#got the cart before the horse or whatever they say

[chemicallyyourss]

Finishing the main series again and realizing that all the main couples (Scarlet/Wolf, Cress/Thorne, Winter/Jacin) got their “I love you”’s (and some more than once) and Cinder and Kai NEVER did. Like yeah Lai kept on lowkey being like, “marry me” “be my empress”, but like… come on guys 🥲 just say it already

If I remember right, they didn’t say it in Stars Above either…. like, HOMIE, Kai… you propose to her but have yet to say these 3 words??? Agh

[tiny-space-platypus]

Another Danny is a Jason look alike thing because it's in my head.

WARNING: mild destruction of vivisection ig

Jason after being told about both Dick's and Tim's interaction with his look alike felt weird. Like both his brothers, 2 bats believed this dude was him for a hot minute. He had to meet this guy at some point.

Jason's thoughts were interrupted by a blood curdling shriek and the power in Crime Alley and at least a 800 foot (12 blocks) perimeter. This wail made the pit within him bubble and scratch with rage. Yeah, he had to go check this out and so did the rest of the bats. Great, a family adventure.

They pinned down the location to an old apartment build recently bought up by a mystery company surrounded by guards with unfamiliar weapons. Whatever those weapons were they hurt like a motherfucker, one of those guns, Lazer? Whatever it was it 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩, it felt like it was pulling something out of him or ripped from him. Whatever the hell those weapons were they didn't seem to affect Tim (lucky motherfucker) but they also found out if the Lazer wasn't focused on them the pain went away almost immediately though it did make them stagger a bit. Good thing there are plenty of them tonight. Though Jason would never say that out loud.

They managed to make it through their security rather quickly. Just as they got through another scream rang through the walls shaking the foundation as well as making the pit in Jason act up. Without warning or a plan Jason sprinted in shooting anyone in the way with rubber bullets, the pit was guiding him. Guiding him to what looked like a shittily put together surgical room. Another scream came through as well as sobbing.

Jason didn't wait for the other bats and opened the door to a horrific scene. Jason shot before he even realized he did. On the table was a girl who looked a little older than Damian, she was sobbing still somehow conscious.

The girl was strapped down to a medical surgical table with her chest cavity cut open and a few technically none vital organs removed and placed on a medical cart. A few of her fingers, kidneys, spleen, stomach, and one of her eyes were all placed on the cart. All of it bleeding an awful mixture of red and green. There were 2 IVs pumping through her, one green and glowing (Lazarus water?) The other, a dark black labeled as some kind of poison. He removed the black one causing the girl to whimper as her unfocused eye looked at him. The girl struggled but there was where to go. She sobbed desperately. Her voice horse and small

"It hurts- p l e a s e it hurts"

Jason tried to speak but couldn't muster the words. Right he must be terrifying and he needed to put this girl together again meaning he needed to take off his helmet to get it done right. Jason took off his helmet and began to put the child together again. He put her organs back into her body as well as reattaching them with some stitches.

The other bats would finally enter the room when he finished up his little impromptu anatomy lesson. They stood there for a second unsure as to what to do. Robin looked the most upset at this scene as RR went to the wall. The restraints on the kid was electronic meaning that one of these controls had to undo it. Nothing was labeled because of course it was never that easy. Nightwing would over and try to speak to the kid though she didn't really respond. The child's head lolled to the side and faced Jason.

"Danny?" The child rasped in her small voice as she tried to focus her one eye at Jason. Just as she said the name RR managed to find the button that would restrain her. The child shot up immediately suddenly staring at Jason with a deep toxic green eye as she grabbed onto him she looked at him with an scared and hurt eye. As well as popping a few of the stitches Jason had just done from the fast movement.

"...Danny you lied. Not safe.."

The child clung to him as someone else entered the party in the surgical room. Someone glowing green and chilling the room. Someone who looked Just like Jason, someone using the same but different pit energy, a protective energy rather than a rage filled one. They both just stared at each other.

They probably would have done something to each other but not of the bats could move. Whatever this guy was he was powerful and walking towards Jason. Jason couldn't move either as this man who looked exactly like him bug some how more regal and wearing a crown took the girl from him who had started to melt in his arms.

A glowing green portal appeared next to the man who glowed a similar green. He began to walk through then stopped. The man snapped his fingers having a card appear in front of Jason with some sort of summoning circle on it. As the man spoke the room boomed.

"Thank you for saving my Daughter. Summon if you need assistance from the dead."

He then stepped through the portal with the melting girl and had it close behind them allowing all of the bats and birds to breathe again. Batman spoke this time as Jason looked over the card that he was now getting a little of the green and red blood on.

"We will need to meet with Zatanna for this."

[missmugiwara]

Insubordination

Summary: fem!reader x Levi Ackerman // Never in a million years would you defy your captain over a gift. From him. Quite the story how you got in the first place.

Warning: 18+, fluff, slightly suggestive, you are soooo down bad but so is he

Note: I love him!

✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦

A hand at your chest, balling into a fist only to grab at something that wasn't there. Only air.

Your eyes stared at your reflection in the window before blinking, readjusting to focus on the contents on the other side of the glass - the inside of the shop. The sun shone at the right angle, causing jewelry to twinkle in the light. Gently, you smiled while admiring the different pieces.

Even so, there was one thing that dazzled you over the others. The one thing that captivated you more than any other sparkly, expensive ring or watch or bauble: a necklace. A silver necklace with a silver pendant - the pendant being a simple feather, wisps carved into it and encrusted with a million little diamonds that imitated the millions of stars in a night sky.

You had wanted that necklace more than anything.

Every time your squad came back from an expedition, the route always passed the jewelry shop last. And every time, you would peek in the window to check and see if that little treasure was still there. Maybe someday you'd get it. These days, jewelry was hard to come by. It didn't help that you felt so selfish for staring all the time and for wanting to purchase such a small vanity. And of course, every time, your friends would mercilessly tease you about this. They would tell you to just buy the damn thing already! You deserved something nice for your hard work. Didn't you know? But when you laughed along with their cooing, it was the same excuse every time.

"Oh, goodness, no! My family needs me! Every cent I earn goes back to my little brothers!"

How many more times would you pass by that stupid shop and dream of that necklace? Surely, you could afford it after all these months of saving.

It was so obvious.

Upon arriving back from an expedition, while carting the injured and parading through town as the people looked upon the scouts, Levi could see. He could clearly see when you drove your horse off to the side. He could see you sneak and take a moment to quietly look into that shop's window. And he could see a friend trotting afterward as you exchanged whispers and maybe even a joke or two. Trying to hide this playful behavior when you should have a modicum of decorum on the way back to base was ignored.

At the sound of your giggling, Levi blinked from his perch atop his horse. His expression was stoic, his gaze unbreakable as he stared into your caped back. There you were with your friends, holding back laughter about that silly necklace again.

He squinted his eyes in annoyance. Tch. You should have just bought it already! Everyone kept saying it.

Levi let out a sigh. He knew better than to think that. Because he knew you.

You were there since the very beginning - one of the first people to ever be assigned to his squad. Being close only revealed your strength and devotedness - a pure and unwavering devotedness to him. A most important member of his squad. Yet important was not enough to describe what you could have possibly meant.

Feeling his relentless gaze burn into your back, you looked up to meet those steel eyes of Levi's. In turn, your mouth dropped open in surprise. By the look in your eyes, it was apparent that you were flustered. For a second more, your gazes stayed locked until you adoringly smiled at the captain.

Levi's eyebrow twitched when you gave a small wave with your hand. Your surrounding friends gasped and looked up to where you were waving, and Levi scowled further. They burst into giggles, whispering whatever teases as your attention was pulled back toward them.

That smile on your face was something he could never get over. It was amazing how you could find such joy in a world where the scouts met danger on a daily, if not hourly, basis.

You deserved joy.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and a steady focus in his gray eyes, Levi looked forward. He knew what to do next.

Later that day, Captain Levi Ackerman walked into that very same jewelry shop. The family that owned the establishment was shocked. Patrons gasped. Levi walked around as if it were the most normal thing in the world, ignoring the gazes of people around him. Stupid that they thought this was so unusual. He was as unbothered as always.

"C - Captain Levi!? W - welcome, sir!"

The Captain Levi?

Buying jewelry? Would it be a ring? Was it for a secret lover? A woman in his life? The unreadable captain was a romantic? Amongst all the stares, low whispers, and comments Levi could give less of a shit what people thought. So after a moment of walking toward the front desk, with the owner quaking in his boots for whatever reason, Levi spoke curtly.

"That feather necklace in the window. I'll take it."

"Excellent choice, sir! P - please accept this discount for all your hard work!"

"Thanks."

It was also later that same day when your beloved squad captain found you in the dining area. A group of scouts were gathered around you, eating and laughing as you regaled them with a funny story from working on your family's farm as a youth.

As usual, Levi's appearance shut everyone up immediately, earning him stares of slight panic. Everyone probably had the same thought: they were being way too rowdy if the captain of all people walked over. However, you had the inkling that this was about something else. A heat blossomed across your cheeks when Levi stopped right in front of you.

"We need to talk. Now."

Of course, Levi didn't scare you in the slightest - but if he needed to talk so urgently, it did make you worry a bit. Instantly, you hopped up and gave an energetic yes, sir! And you followed him, giving one last pout at anyone who dared to snicker at the prospect of you and the captain being alone.

Was it really that obvious? Did everyone know about your feelings?

With a turn of Levi's head toward the crowd behind him, eyes glaring daggers, that was when everyone really shut up.

What really caught you off guard was when you and Levi were finally alone. You, seated in front of his desk, and he opposite of you in a much more lavish chair. Silence and a sort of heated tension filled the air, albeit you could not quite place a finger on what it was that made it feel this way.

Gently, Levi placed a small box onto the desk with a small clatter. You looked at the box, then at Levi. He was expressionless, and his eyes twinkled under the lamplight. As usual, he looked amazingly handsome. A heat dusted over your cheeks. What did he expect you to do? Soon enough, you opened your mouth to ask what in the world this was, but the captain spoke first.

"Open it."

His face did not change nor did his tone urge you to hurriedly act. He let you take your time as you furrowed your brows in confusion. With parted lips, you blinked at him in question again. You really had no idea what was going on.

So you did as you were told.

Carefully, you separated the lid from the box. And your eyes widened once you registered what was inside.

The necklace.

You held your breath. Levi stolidly watched on.

"Captain - " you gawked, holding the necklace delicately in your fingers.

"We're alone."

"Levi." you breathed, "What… why? This can't be for me."

"It is."

"You did not."

"I did."

A losing battle. So your gaze snapped down to the necklace, a calm and gentle smile spreading across your lips. It was breathtaking. And Levi was breathtaking. He bought this just for you? This was the last thing in the world you would have ever expected, but - you knew him. Cold, impassive Captain Levi to the soldiers. Sweet, resolute Levi to you.

"Thank you, Levi. I love it."

When you looked up, he adorned a small smirk. He leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over his knee.

"Now you have to help me put it on!" you clapped your hands as Levi scoffed, smirk still at his lips.

Excitedly, you spun around and situated your hair out of place when he stood up to walk over. The necklace was clasped daintily around your neck, Levi's fingers pausing at your skin for a slight second as if to savor the feeling. The feeling of happiness - one such feeling he did not have the opportunity to experience often enough. He could see your shoulders rise when your breath caught in your chest at the contact. After a pause, his index finger reached out on command, and he froze to think about what he should or shouldn't do.

Thoughts you similarly shared. A closeness, a bond was there. Something was definitely there, and even your fellow scouts could see it. But what did you want to risk? Was it okay to take the risk despite knowing your profession all too well?

Levi's finger curled inward, and he ran a knuckle lightly down your spine. An adoring touch, one you did not experience regularly except for the rare opportunities Levi chose to reveal his inner softness. Foolishly, you hoped he did not feel your heart thundering throughout your body when he touched you so sweetly.

You decided to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as best as you could. With a grin, you turned to meet his calm eyes.

"And how does it look?"

When Levi opened his mouth to answer, you grinned and interrupted.

"Ah, wait! Don't tell me. I already know it looks amazing."

Levi could only tilt his head to the side, eyebrows folded inward as he gave a tiny, closed-mouth smile. The small, energetic bursts and the ability to still be so genuine and pure in this world - that was amazing too. Where did you find the strength?

As you thanked him one more time, Levi brushed it off - refusing to let you thank him and simply stating it was nothing. When you headed for the door, Levi watched your backside. There was one more thing he needed you to know.

"I better not catch you wearing that on the field, soldier. Would be a shame if it got dirty or you lost it."

With your hand on the door handle, you froze at his words. A small hum escaped your lips, and you turned around with a smirk.

"Of course not… captain."

For whatever reason, you two stood there in silence and stared at each other. Neither one of you could bare to look away. Like a magnetic pull linked you two together. The shadows on your faces danced under the low light. That arousing, heavy feeling was in the air again, and your heart raced. Levi got this gift out of the kindness of his heart. Because he cared. A simple word of thanks didn't feel right. Not after all the years of being by his side.

Without thought, your body moved.

Levi's eyes widened when your arms flew around his neck. He stumbled once but regained footing when you buried your face in his shoulder, hugging him tightly. These moments of intimacy weren't often. In fact, you weren't sure if he was fine with a hug. If he wasn't, you'd apologize profusely. Levi stood stunned in place, really taking in the feeling of your body pressed tightly to his. After a moment more of reflection, his eyelids shut slowly when he exhaled. He dipped his chin into your shoulder, lightly placing his hands on your back to return the hug. His perfectly cut hair shading out his eyes when he moved. A few seconds passed as you held each other, and when you pulled away - Levi simply studied your face with that same taciturn expression he always bore.

As you both stood there just gazing into each other's eyes, your hands gripping his biceps and his at your waist, your eyes glittered. He looked so damn good. He always did over the years. So your brain decided to make you move without thought again.

Swiftly, you pecked him on the cheek.

His eyebrows raised slightly into his forehead, and his lips parted but Levi did not say a word. With a small heat rising to your cheeks, you calmly walked off to the door. All you wanted to do was scream and kick your feet because you had just done that, a small but innocent kiss, but you felt being tact was best. At least for now. At the door, you paused, turning to look at him with such desire.

You smiled, "Good night, Levi."

The door closed, leaving the stoic captain to brush his fingertips against the skin where your mouth landed.

The very next day was another expedition. No surprise there. Your hands tightly held the reins to your horse whilst the hundreds of others walked uniformly down the streets. A small neigh caught your attention, and you looked to the right. With this formation, you were always within eyesight of Levi - never to leave his side unless otherwise stated. You were so close - you could have easily reached out to touch his thigh so reassuringly, but you had a duty to be respectable first and foremost.

It was only yesterday night, but scanning his face made you wonder if he had thoughts of the little gifts exchanged - a necklace and a kiss. It was just a small one! You couldn't fathom going overboard, so the cheek was subtle and friendly enough. This was silly though. Of course Levi probably didn't have time to think about that now. Just like yesterday, your hand darted to the space right underneath the neck - only to be greeted by the necklace this time. From underneath your cape, you grabbed the feather pendant between your thumb and forefinger.

"Hey."

You twitched and turned to meet Levi's eyes.

"What did I say about wearing that?"

Embarrassment was written all over your face. So you spent a while studying him, Levi looking more and more pissed with every second you kept him waiting. Before long, a small smirk appeared at your lips.

"Sorry, captain. I just can't do that. You see… someone really special gave me this. It means everything to me."

Levi's eyes widened.

With a call of Erwin's voice in the background, the horses sprang forth in a run out onto the field beyond the walls. A cheeky, closed-mouth grin, and you tucked the necklace back under your shirt. Within a second, your expression changed to a more serious one, and your eyes darted ahead in focus. No time to think about this bold, little remark any longer - no matter how much you wanted to see Levi's face. Hopefully, he wasn't mad. Because most of all, how dare you so openly defy his command.

Insubordination.

Levi smirked.

He'd deal with you later.

Privately, of course.

[rainintheevening]

She expects them to feel different, after three months, but it's a different 'different' from what she was expecting, though if she were honest, she wouldn't be able to say exactly what she was expecting.

She enjoys the train ride through the country, through the bare trees and dark cold earth, and she can relax a little against the carriage window, close her weary eyes and rest. Then the train spits her out into the cold air onto a tiny country platform, and there are her children! Rushing at her, Lucy in the lead as she would have expected, and she drops to her knees to take the full force of Lucy's onslaught in her heart and her arms.

"Mummy!" Lucy cries into her collar, and Helen's vision blurs. She blinks it back, looks up at Susan and Edmund standing over her, both smiling, Susan on the verge of tears.

When she stands, Lucy still clinging to her side like a limpet, there is more hugging and kissing, and she is surprised, but far more grateful, for Ed’s tight squeeze and kiss to her cheek. Susan clutches her tightly, and there are a few tears on her part as well.

"Where’s Peter?" Helen asks at last, turning this way and that to search for her eldest, notes both Edmund and her luggage have also disappeared.

"Oh, he's with Fee and the carriage," Lucy says, pulling out a handkerchief to dry her face, and smiling brightly.

And when they step down to the roadway there is a two-wheeled cart and a grey horse, and Peter holding its head, half-turned to speak with Edmund who stands close beside, and then Peter looks up and meets her gaze, and he smiles so bright it's as if the sun has come out. She doesn't miss how he pushes the reins into Edmund's hands before he steps forward to hug her, and he is... taller? Straighter, she can feel strength and muscle in the arms that wrap tight around her, and she lays her head on his shoulder, just for a moment, closes her eyes.

"Alright, Mother?" Peter says, soft, exactly the way Richard always did, and she smiles into his collar.

"Quite," she says, pulling back to kiss his cold-pinked cheek, and she finds she means it.

"Perhaps we should be off?" Edmund suggests. "Don't need Mum getting off on the wrong foot with the MacCready by letting her tea get cold," he adds as they all look at him.

Peter laughs. "Always thinking with your stomach, Ed," and Helen braces herself for the snap, for the offense and the glares and the barbed exchange.

"Well, someone's got to," Ed grins back, and briefly something glows in the chill air between them, something bright and warm, and Helen does not quite dare to relax, but she thinks she might be able to. "If we left everything to you lot," Edmund goes on, "it would nothing but swords and arrows and..."—a glance at Lucy, who is being swung up into the cart in one smooth motion by Peter—"flowers."

"What about hunting?" Susan says, climbing up quite gracefully with Peter's assistance. "Good shooting can make for a good meal."

"And swords can be useful to cut things up," Lucy pipes up, grinning down at Helen, who... does not quite understand.

"Yes, like the bread and butter," Peter says, laughing a little, as he turns to offer his mother a gloved hand. "Hush now, you lot, and we'll get Mother and Ed home for tea before one freezes and the other gets sulky."

"Hey!" Ed yelps, but again he is grinning, and as Helen settles herself in the back of the cart, Lucy squeezing in tight against her side, Susan smiling across at her, the joy and happiness in the air is thicker than the clouds their breath makes, and she sighs, from somewhere deep, and something done up very, very tightly inside her loosens.

She misses whatever else Peter has been saying as he climbs up onto the seat, blurting out, "Oh, Peter. You're driving?"

He smiles over his shoulder, pleased and soft into the face of her embarrassment over stating the obvious. "I've been doing a lot of it lately."

"He does almost all the shopping in the village now," Susan says proudly.

"Got on the good side of the MacCready, so he wouldn't race those farm boys in Kitchers Lane like I suggested," Ed grumbles.

"This isn't a chariot in Rome," Peter says, shaking his head, all exasperated affection. He clicks his tongue. "Chirrup, Fee."

Peter's comment sparks a lively retelling of Ben-Hur, which the children have apparently been reading with Professor Kirke as part of their lessons, peppered with many other comments about the mansion, the Professor, and its other inhabitants. Edmund settles in beside Susan, who wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Helen's stare lingers on them, on their new-found closeness.

Lucy is talking fast, and Helen strokes a hand over her youngest daughter's bare head, finally noticing— "Oh Lucy, your hair has gotten so long!"

Lucy blushes, reaches up to her half-crown of braids, an intricate thing which Helen has never seen before. "I like it long. Not too long of course, never as long as Susan had–"

"Look, I know it's not the most practical," Susan interrupts, "but it can be very pretty. Perhaps someday I'll grow mine as long as my waist."

"Why are girls always thinking about their hair?" Edmund rolls his eyes.

"Why are boys always thinking about their stomachs?"

"Well, an army marches on its stomach, not its head."

"Stop it you two," Peter says over his shoulder, calm, firm, and they leave off their argument at once. "Mum's here, and we want to give her the nicest Christmas she's ever had."

"Ooh, yes!" Lucy bounces suddenly, face lighting up. "Professor Kirke says we can go out into the woods to pick an enormous Christmas tree, and we'll all decorate it–"

"And Ivy told me the MacCready has been saving on sugar," Edmund chimes in, "so we'll have sugar biscuits and plum pudding and even a chocolate cake, she thinks."

"And the Professor said we'll have goose from the farmer Adams," Peter says over his shoulder.

"It‐ it all sounds absolutely delightful." Helen tries to keep the tremble out of her voice, but doesn't quite succeed, judging by the way Susan's smile goes soft, and Lucy squeezes her hand.

The air is crisp and cold, smelling of damp earth and leaf mould, and her children are all smiling, and the pale grey sky is quiet, there are birds chattering in the trees they pass, horses graze in a field, there are no explosions, no planes, no ground shaking under her as she huddles in the dark, and she has to swallow very hard, she would much rather not cry in front of her children...

In the moment of quiet as she bows her head, and grips Lucy's hand very tight, she hears Peter stop humming, and begin to sing.

Venite adoremus, he sings.

Venite adoremus... Susan joins in at once, and then they are all singing around her, voices rising in the December air, joyful and trumphant.

Venite adoremus

Dominum

Helen closes her eyes as her children sing on into the next verse, keeping time with the horse's trot, and the tears that slide down her cheeks are warm.

Lucy stops singing just long enough to press a handkerchief into her mother's hand, smiling up with a whispered, "You need it more than I do."

Magic, she thinks in a bewildered way, it's like magic, all this. Or perhaps even something holy, whatever it is that hangs in the air with their breath, and brightens the browns and dark greens and greys of the countryside, when she looks up from wiping her eyes.

She joins in at last, a little tremulous, but by the fourth verse, she is adding harmonies over Susan's, and they finish 'Adeste Fideles' wish something akin to a shout, a cry of hope and determination that rings through the woods they're passing, and makes the animals lift their heads.

Peter starts in on another before they've had time to draw breath, 'Hark the Harald Angels Sing', and so they ride singing all the rest of the way to the Professor's house, singing in the light and joy of Christmastide, even as evening shadows fall around them.

They are breathless and laughing as Fee slows to a walk, and they come up to the grand old house, spilling golden light into the night, and Helen Pevensie thinks that perhaps she should have hoped for different, rather than expected it, because different can be good, and this... oh, this is truly good.

[chocoblep]

#6: Market Day

Prompt: Halcyon

“Hinaaaaaan!” The voice that came from within the branches of the tree was almost sing-song in quality, inviting him to answer the call. And answer he did, his little six-year-old limbs scrambling against the tree bark as he climbed up to join his brother.

The two boys grinned at each other as Hinan grappled the base of the branch that Aeluan was perched on.

“You gotta hurry!” Aeluan encouraged, freeing up one hand to wave Hinan over. “Stop huggin’ it and get on your feet, we gotta be ready to jump when I say!”

“O-kay!” Hinan chirped in response, carefully shimmying along the branch until he reached his brother, and then grabbing for the branch above them that Aeluan was holding onto to keep his balance. Hinan almost tumbled from the tree, but he managed to snatch the branch and hauled himself upward, settling on the balls of his feet in a crouch. It was a good thing the two young Au Ra boys didn’t weigh too much–even with the sturdiness of this particular tree, the branch creaked ominously beneath their combined weight. Neither of them paid it any mind. “Oh! Oh! There it is!” Hinan said, thrusting an arm out to point at the covered cart in the distance. 

It was ambling along at a slow pace, the driver a Raen man who probably would have been considered tall if he wasn’t always hunching over the reins. It was pulled by a team of two horses, whose hoof clops sounded loud in the relative peace of the sunny afternoon. When it got close to the tree, the cart seemed to slow down a bit more, and Aeluan quietly counted to three before he cried, “jump!” and they both launched themselves at the cart, landing on its thick wooden roof and shimmying down onto their bellies to look over the edge at the man.

“Hi, boys,” the driver called, twisting to look up at them. “You riding all the way to market today?”

“Yeah!” said Aeluan. “What are you taking there this time?”

“Is it rice?” Hinan asked, resting his chin on his hands with a smile. “I’m hungry. Maybe I’ll get rice balls when we get there if Mama says it’s okay.”

“You’re always hungry, Hinan!” Aeluan jabbed, and then looked down at the driver. “Anyway, I bet it’s cloths!”

“It is neither of those things,” the man said with a chuckle. “It is baskets of wool today.”

“Wool! Is it soft! Does it feel like a cloud?” Hinan asked, and Aeluan giggled.

“Cloud wool sounds like a good place to sleep.”

“Yeah, but the baskets aren’t big enough for that, probably.”

“I bet I could stuff you in one.”

“No way!”

The driver was still smiling as he listened. “The baskets are too small to fit either of you. I will tell you what, though; if either of you can guess how many baskets of wool I have in the cart without looking, I will buy you each a rice ball when we get there.”

The pair of boys gasped, and then started shouting numbers at random.

“Eleven!”

“Twenty-five!”

“Six!”

With each wrong answer, Hinan’s face screwed up more and more with indignance. “Well, do we get a hint?”

“Hmm,” said the man, “It’s more than eleven plus six.”

“Eleven plus six is uhh…” Aeluan trailed off for a moment. “Seventeen! So uhh… eighteen?”

“More than eighteen,” the man said.

“Six thousand million?” Hinan asked, his orange eyes wide.

“Less than six thousand million,” the man said.

“Twenty-three,” crowed Aeluan, who was much more sensible about these things, being eight summers old.

“Twenty-three is exactly correct!” the man replied, and the boys cheered.

“Uncle Nori is gonna buy us rice balls!” Hinan rolled onto his back and pumped his fists into the air. Scooting just a bit with his heels along the roof, he hung his head upside down over the edge, watching the horizon bounce as they clopped along. It was going to be a good day, and as soon as Uncle Nori bought them their treat and dropped them off with Mama at the market, they would run along the stalls and charm the other merchants, and then go home and divvy up whatever treats and trinkets they had managed to get from them. Market day was always a good day for the Akaruta boys. @sword-and-surfboard / @valdiis for mention!

[allzelemonz]

Suitors: Kieran Duffy X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’, ‘lad’ and ‘man’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Language Warnings: Sean is a bully, Bill is gay (cannon, literally just talk to him it’s so obvious), Kieran has game but he doesn’t know it, Reader and Bill are besties, this one is silly and messy but it’s fun Summary: Sean attempts to mess with Kieran by flirting with you, but you put him in his place with help from your best friend Bill.

Kieran has been working hard ever since the Van Der Lindes let him off of the tree. He enjoys working with the horses, but it’s grueling. Whatever free time he has is filled with torment from whatever Van Der Linde happens to be closest. Bill will invite him to drink on occasion, but after that incident with the tongs Kieran would rather keep his distance. It’s Sean that seems to seek him out for mild torture. He’s headbut him, threatened him, generally been cruel. But when the Irishman found out about Kieran’s little crush on you, it got worse.

You aren’t sweet on Sean by any means, you hardly talk to him. Most of your time is spent with Molly, listening to her drone about Dutch, or with Bill on jobs. But now Sean seeks you out, so long as Kieran can see. In an attempt to escape Sean, Kieran accepted Bill’s invitation to sit by the fire. Bill has been trying to be nicer, gesturing for Kieran to sit on the crate next to him and handing him a beer. Kieran takes the bottle and gives Bill a small smile, sitting on the edge of his seat given how he met the man he’s sitting with.

“Come on, lad!” Sean laughs. “Admit it! You’re in love with me!”

Kieran looks up to see you and Sean by Pearson’s cart, getting dinner for the night.

“You’ve been following me all day, Sean, and I only find you more annoying.”

“Come on now.” Sean says, following you towards the fire. “I’m a good, honest son a’ the soil.”

“Shut up, Sean.” You sigh, taking a seat on the log.

“He been followin’ ya all day?” Bill leans over to ask.

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, you’ll fall for me.” Sean laughs, settling in next to you. “Everybody does.”

“Ain’t that what ya said ta Miss Tilly?” Bill asks.

You nod. “And Mary-Beth?”

“Oh, shut it, ya sorry sods.”

“Take your own advice.” You say, eating a spoonful of stew.

Bill laughs at that, miming a cheers to you with his beer bottle. Kieran smiles to himself, taking a sip from his own bottle.

“What’re you smirkin’ at, O’Driscoll?” Sean mocks.

“He’s not an O’Driscoll, Sean.” You sigh, having said it a hundred times.

Sean turns to you. “How’re we ta know he’s not still workin’ for Colom?”

“It’s Colm.” You say, putting your bowl down.

“It’s Colom.”

“He’s right.” Kieran says quietly. “It’s Colm.”

“It’s Irish, it’s Colom. We’ve had this little chat before, O’Driscoll.”

“Half the people here are Irish, Sean. They all say Colm.” You look at Kieran. “Does he say Colm or Colom?”

“Colm.” Kieran says.

“Good. Shut up, Sean.”

Sean groans. “You’re seriously sidin’ with the O’Driscoll over me?”

“I am.” Bill mutters.

“Unbelievable.” Sean says.

“He’s nicer than ya.” Bill argues. “Quiet too.”

“Come to think of it,” You look at Sean, knowing this will hurt him. “You’re Micah, just louder.”

“I am not!”

Bill laughs again, clutching his stomach because it’s more boisterous this time. Kieran smiles to himself again, careful to hide it this time.

“You’re comparin’ me ta that arse?” Sean stands, offended.

“Does that upset you?” You ask.

“You’re damn right it does!”

“Then yes, absolutely.”

“I ain’t nothin’ like him!”

You sigh. “Apologize to Kieran then.”

Kieran looks up at you as you stare Sean down.

“What?” Sean asks, screwing his face in confusion.

“You’ve been nothing but mean to him. Apologize.” You gesture to Kieran. “Micah would never do that.”

Kieran looks up again, avoiding Sean and focusing on you. Next to him, Bill finally has gotten his laughter under control and pats Kieran on the back.

Sean turns to Kieran. “Sorry, O’Driscoll.”

“Try again.” You shake your head.

Bill chuckles. “Like ya mean it!”

Kieran’s cheeks have turned pink from the embarrassment and attention.

Sean groans. “What’s he done to deserve my gratitude?”

“He’s been helpin’ us track Colm.” Bill says, making sure to say the American pronunciation.

“I take care a’ Ennis.” Kieran mutters.

You smile at Kieran. “That’s right. Your horse likes him, Sean. Why not you?”

Sean kicks his foot at the ground like a bored toddler and sighs. “Fine, fine.”

“Go on then.” You gesture to Kieran. “Apologize.”

“If it’ll make ya happy, love.” Sean faces Kieran. “I am truly sorry.”

Bill cheers, clapping Kieran on the back. “Ain’t that nice.”

“Ya in love with me now?” Sean asks, turning back to you.

“Shut up, Sean.”

He grins. “I’m warmin’ up to ya, I can tell these things, love.”

Sean walks off, claiming a victory with his own delusion.

“Okay, okay.” Bill leans forward in his seat, glancing between you and Kieran. “Now when are ya gettin’ together. I don’t wanna miss Sean’s fit.”

“What?” Kieran asks, a bit of a crack in his voice.

“I, uh, I didn’t tell him yet, Bill.”

“Oh, shit.” Bill exclaims. “I’m sorry, boys.”

“Tell me what?” Kieran asks.

“That I’m sweet on ya.” You lean forward to poke the fire with a stick as Kieran’s face flushes again. “Bill is too.”

“No I ain’t!” Bill argues.

“Bullshit, Bill. Look at you.”

Kieran looks between you two as you argue. He knows you’re good friends with Bill. This might be a common occurrence.

“I ain’t the one talkin’ about him like he’s some greek god!” Bill yells.

“That’s Mary-Beth, not me.”

“What?” Kieran asks again.

Bill laughs at that. “Sorry, Kieran, I ain’t so good at secrets.”

You laugh a little too. “You have a lot of people that’re sweet on you, Kieran.”

Kieran grips his beer bottle a little tighter as he takes in the information. “I do?”

Bill blushes a little. “Sure ya do.”

“Aren’t you two cute.” You muse.

“Shut up.” Bill mutters.

“Bill’s easy to fall, not so easy to admit it.” You say. “What was that guy from the saloon in Blackwater? Chris, Clyde?”

“Clark.” Bill sighs.

“Right.” You nod.

“So, you’re both sweet on me?” Kieran asks.

“He is more than me.” Bill says, taking a long drink of beer.

You chuckle, looking at the ground to hide the love-sick look on your face.

“I think I’ll leave ya to it.” Bill says after he finishes his bottle. “Just let me know when ya think Sean’ll throw a fit again.”

Before you can stop him, Bill is off towards the crate of beer to grab another and wander around. You turn to Kieran and give him a small smile. “Sorry about, uh, that.”

Kieran’s face is a solid pink and he can’t look you in the eyes. “It’s, uh, it’s alright, Mister.”

“You don’t have to call me Mister.”

“W-Were you tellin’ the truth?” Kieran asks, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “About all that?”

You nod. “Yeah, all of it.”

Kieran chuckles lightly. “I didn’t take Bill fer the type.”

“It’s obvious once you spend some time with him.”

“Time with him?” Kieran asks.

You shake your head. “Not like that. He’s just my friend, Kieran.”

Kieran nods, looking back at the ground.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Bill yells, stomping over. “You’re sweet on each other! Sit together, stare, kiss, somethin’!”

You laugh as you stand, taking Bill's former seat next to Kieran. “Happy, Bill?”

“You frustrate me.” He grumbles, stomping away.

“Is he, uh, he always like that?” Kieran asks, a small smile on his face.

“Usually.” You laugh. “He’s a sweetheart, I promise.”

“When he’s not torturin’ a feller?” Kieran laughs lightly.

“Exactly.” You smile, holding your hand out. “He’ll come yell at us again if we don’t do something. He’s been waiting for me to tell you for weeks now.”

Kieran grins as he takes your hand. “Ya sweet on me that long?”

“Sure.” You nod. “And I know Sean was flirting with me to mess with you.”

Kieran looks down, hiding his smile. You squeeze his hand a little tighter and look over to Bill. He gives you a thumbs up and takes another swig of beer. It’s not how you intended to tell Kieran, but nothing ever goes according to plan as a Van Der Linde.

[4fter-hours]

Stay.

"What is that you want me to say?" Elizabeth’s voice echoed off the walls in the hall as she stood on the end of it looking at Kobe. There he stood with the few belongings that he had brought with him when she asked him to move in.

Ready to leave her.

"I don’t want you to go, but you obviously made up your mind. I don’t know what you want me to say. So tell me. Tell me what it is that you want to hear from me." It was a stupid plead. She already knew what he wanted. The truth. Not the million lies and dodges she gave him or anyone else about her life before this place.

The hurt was evident on his face and she knew, this was the last time. This was the last straw. This was the last goodbye. She had so many done to her in the past that she knew it in her bones. But as he walked out the front door to put his things in his car, she found her feet following after him.

Stepping out into the rain after him, she felt her heart plunge into her stomach as he shoved the bag into the backseat of his car. It was now or never. " Fine! You want to know me? Want to know everything? " Tears welled up in her eyes, hazel eyes already full of grief of what was ending. But there was still a small piece that hoped. Foolishly it hoped.

" The truth is my own mother didn't want me. Gave me up the moment she even knew I existed. Then my dad died when I was eight. My stepmother, the only person I had left put me in a shitty situation. I was abused and hurt and that's where the scar on my shoulder is from. Not from horse riding or falling out of a tree, like I tell people. It was because she shacked up with some guy who hurt me in ways a kid should never be hurt. When I woke up, I was naked and bleeding and being carted away to the hospital. I never saw her again, never bothered to see if I had lived or died. Then I spent years in the system." She was soaked through to the bone now but it didn't matter. He wanted the truth. He would give him that.

" Bounced around from foster home to foster home, and lived with potential parents and families for months before being told that I wasn't wanted and being thrown back into the system in equally shitty abusive situations. When I was 16 I ran. I was going to age out in two years so it didn't matter. Fell in with the wrong people, got a fake id and put myself in situations that I never should've." Was it rain or tears on her face, was she shivering from the cold or from crying?

"That's how I met Charlie. He got me out of a shitty situation. Two kids in shitty situations helping each other through them. That's what he is, my friend. My brother by choice, not blood. We ran scams together. That's how I got the money to go to school and be a librarian. That's how I was able to afford this house. That's how I had the money to pay off your bills. I know you hate me for it but you didn't deserve that burden placed on you. I did it because I care about you, okay. It's the same reason I asked you to move in with me." She was sobbing now, everything pouring out of her just as the rain was pouring out from the heavens. The dam had sprung a leak but the pressure was too great and soon enough the whole thing had collapsed. " But I hate it. I hate that you could leave me like everyone else has. My own mother didn't fucking want me, Kobe. How can I expect anyone else to? That's why I always push you away when you get too close and I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm always waiting for that other shoe to drop, for you to realize whatever it is everyone else has realized that makes me unlovable and leave me too. Something that scares me because I love you."

And there it was. "Kobe, I love you."

[talesfromaurea]

Tales from Aurea - Session 0 Now Posted!

Hello everyone! I'm happy to say that the first chapter (Session 0 - Visions of Fire and Ice) of Tales from Aurea is now up on Royal Road 🎉

You can read the full chapter at this link here. Under the cut is a preview of the first section. Enjoy!

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @drippingmoon, @kainablue, @splashinkling, @space-writes

Curious what this story is about? Check out the WIP Introduction here

Sakrattars hunched forward, chin in his hands, and watched the sun disappear beneath the rooftops of Barsicum. It was a boring end to a disappointing day. He pulled the string of his purse closed and tucked it into an inner pocket of his robes, noting its lack of weight with a miserable sigh. With the help of a plain walking stick, he hauled himself to his feet with a crack and a groan.

The woman who owned the nearby dye shop had begun her evening sweeping. Sakrattars felt her eyes on him and recognized the increasing vigor with which she swept the dust of the day off her patio. She was itching to say something rude to him. He tried gathering his things faster but it was no use. It would begin in three more sweeps, two sweeps, one—

“Why’re you always outside my shop?” she finally said with a huff. “Go sit outside Joseph’s place for a change. Better yet, why don’t you go to the Temple of Nargo? Help you find an honest job instead of whatever charlatanry you’ve got going on here.”

Sakrattars had heard it all countless times before. “Sorry ma’am,” he said impassively.

“You make my respectable business look bad!” she complained further. “Drives away the customers! Stop folding that rag of yours and look at me when I speak to you. Aegis in Arcadia, lend me your strength . . . Hey, get back here!” But Sakrattars was already turning into the darkness of the nearest alley. He was eager to be home and knew he would be treated to the rest of her grievances in the morning.

Navigating the narrow stone path between the tall plaster and brick buildings, Sakrattars pulled off a gray wig, releasing a cascade of short black hair that betrayed his youth. He rubbed his ears and winced—the wig concealed their long, pointy tips well enough but not without some pinching. Distracted by the pain, he didn’t see the elderly woman pulling laundry off the line in front of him.

“Watch where you’re going, why don’t ya?” she cried out as Sakrattars crashed into her.

“Apologies.” Sakrattars bowed sheepishly, rebundling his blanket and checking to make sure his purse, pitiful as it was, was still secure in his pocket.

The woman eyed him dubiously—a young elf dressed in tatters and smudged with grime, holding a wig and an old man’s cane. “What are you, some kind of actor?” she asked contemptuously.

Sakrattars scoffed and continued on. Were the moons in shadow tonight? The Abyss’s proximity would certainly account for the foul mood everyone seemed to be suffering from. Wiping his face off as he walked, he was careful to avoid slick puddles of dubious origin and the occasional stray dog nosing through refuse. The only thing that could make his evening worse would be taking a tumble into something unsavory.

He was thankful when he reached the end of the alley without further incident. Pausing to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail, he took a quick look around the corner. There was a group of workers heading home, laughing at some shared joke, and a street cleaner scooping horse manure into a cart, but nobody who might recognize him. The way clear, he scurried across the road to his apartment building.

The landlord was in his usual spot: snoring under an open window in the foyer with an empty bottle by his side. Sakrattars wrinkled his nose as he passed by to get to the stairs. The walls were stained and waxy and the sconces burned out. Fortunately, Sakrattars could see quite well in dim light. 

He disarmed the locking spell on the door to his unit, too relieved to finally be home to notice the rat that scampered into a hole in the baseboards. Collapsing back onto the bed with a heavy exhale, he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the familiar patterns of greasy soot. His room was simply furnished: there was a desk and a chair, a shelf of neatly arranged books and spell components, and a small fireplace. It was the beginning of summer so there was no need for a fire. Quite the opposite, in fact. The air was already stuffy and oppressive. 

Sakrattars stripped off his robes in favor of a light shirt and trousers and threw open his only window. He didn’t know why he bothered, the window was nearly flush with the neighbor’s wall, but maybe that day would be the one where the wind blew at just the right angle to make it inside.

It was then that Sakrattars noticed a letter on the floor. His heart clenched as he recognized the thin paper and delicate wax seal. Tearing it open, he was greeted by the flowing, cursive Elvish that his sister was so fond of.

Sakrattars,

Please consider giving up this foolish pursuit of yours. I know Father would welcome you back if you apologized to him and agreed to study a subject more fitting of an elf lord like yourself. Think of how he must feel: his son gifted in magic and choosing to study divination? Divination is utterly devoid of culture, lacking in any foundation, and associated with scammers and thieves—how could you possibly be interested in such a thing? 

If you agree to switch, Father might even be able to get you in at the Academia Arcana in Aurea. I can certainly mention the idea to him (casually of course) if you wish. You know how he tends to listen to me.

It has been years and we haven’t heard from you. I know everyone here shares my sentiment when I say that we want you to come home. 

Sakrattars snorted skeptically. He continued:

Please write me back. Your behavior is an embarrassment to the family.

Your loving sister,

Mira

Sakrattars had barely finished reading when he crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the ashy fireplace. How did she even find out where he lived? The school must have told her. He made a mental note to speak to an administrator the next time he was in.

He opened a cage on the desk and took out a fat toad with bulging yellow eyes. “So how was your day, Bartholomew?” he asked. The toad blinked in response, his eyelids slightly out of sync. “Not too eventful, I suppose.” Sakrattars laid down on the bed, absently stroking Bartholomew’s warty skin as his thoughts took him down the long road south, towards home.

*

*

The next morning, Sakrattars watched the crowds pass by without truly seeing them. Maybe his sister was right, in a way. He had been attending the University for a decade now and didn’t have much to show for it. A majority of his time was spent making enough coin to scrape by and not on his studies. But since when did his hardships ever matter to his family? He let out a frustrated groan and a passerby started, clutching her purse nervously as she hurried along.

“Pardon, old sir.”

Forgetting that he was currently dressed as an old man, Sakrattars ignored the deep voice at first. A throat cleared, then a large hand waved slowly in his line of sight.

“Old sir?”

This time, Sakrattars looked up to the giant form of a natiuhan. He used to see them on a regular basis in his hometown of Arvisian Bay but they were a far less common sight this far into the Empire. “Yes, ma’am?” he croaked in his false voice, mildly irritated at being distracted from his brooding. “Can I interest you in your future?”

The natiuhan fished through the purse on her belt. “Not mine,” she said. Waiting for an elaboration, Sakrattars noticed that other shoppers in the area were beginning to stare. As well as being an unusual visitor in Barsicum, this natiuhan in particular cut quite an impressive figure. She was tall and burly, with dark tiger stripes tattooed across her tawny skin and a wild mass of dark red curls swooped to one side. The gold jewelry adorning her body chimed softly with every movement. She either didn’t notice all the attention she was drawing or didn’t care.

The natiuhan finally threw some coins into Sakrattars’ sack. “Not my future. Hers.” She gestured to a young girl peeking timidly out from behind her back. Sakrattars hadn’t even noticed the girl at first. She was dressed in a long cloak that looked to be little more than a tattered wool blanket, the hood drawn up far over her head. He couldn’t be sure since her features were so well-hidden but, based on her diminutive size, she didn’t appear to be a natiuhan herself. Natiuhans were known for being a secretive bunch and, despite living and working among other peoples, they tended to stick with their own and it was rare to see one alone. But it wasn’t this fact that made Sakrattars think that there must be something odd about the pair before him. No, there was something more intangible to it. Something he might one day describe as “fate”.

[silentmagi]

Rising Star

Main Page

A new friend joins our dear friend Star for the evening. Who is she? All we really know is that the winner of the vote was:

3 Bard with a horse

What she found in the clearing was surprising, in that she didn’t expect anyone to be out in the woods so late. Yet there was a woman with a warm and inviting smile holding a lute across her lap as she tuned it. What really caught her attention was the horse, the wonderful, powerful, strong horse. Oh, if only they could be going the same direction.

“Hello there wanderer, won’t you share my fire for the night?” the woman asked, drawing the attention back to her. In the dim fire light, her hair seemed almost the color of night, and Star couldn’t help but feel rail thin next to the full figure before her. “I know I’m out here seeking knowledge, but I thought I would have to go to it, not it to me.”

That seemed to shake off whatever was causing her brain to short out at the woman before her. “What? Oh, I’m sorry, these books are going with me to the wizard academy in Crownsdale.”

“Crownsdale, huh? I haven’t been there before,” the woman mused as she strummed a few notes on her lute. Despite the darkness, she could almost swear that she could feel the other woman’s eyes scanning over her. “I go by Luna, if you want my name. A bard and teller of stories.”

“Star! I mean, my name is Star. I don’t mean to intrude, but if you don’t mind me sharing the fire, I could… umm…” she trailed off, not knowing what she could offer in trade.

Luna let out a soft check as she waved a hand towards the fire. “Share with me the night and tell me a tale. Any tale bit or small will do, I just want more stories to share.”

Taking up a spot opposite her, she finally saw the other woman, and felt the heat rising in her cheeks, not just from the fire. She was soft and curvy, with deep brown eyes that stared deep into her own as if reading something that Star couldn’t tell was there to read. “I don’t know what you’d like to hear… I think I had a normal childhood, and spent most of my time in the library…”

“How about what you’re doing running through the woods with a load of books?” the bard asked with a small laugh to her voice. “There’s a story there.”

“Not really. It’s just a theory that a mage at a tower near here might have information that could help with the whole loss of magic thing. They wrote on the origins of magic recently, and I got permission from the administration at the school to make this journey. This is what I gathered before the tower collapsed.”

“Tower collapsed? I take it that the tower was magically reinforced then…” Luna mused, leaning forward with her full, plump lips twitching upwards with a smile that she was trying to not show.

“Oh, most likely, but there was also a big storm that brought down most of what was remaining,” Star continued, feeling more confident that she was not boring the woman who probably heard so many stories and tales already. So she began at the beginning and told her about her mission, and what happened at the tower.

By the end of it, she found herself trembling with the memory of the tower coming down around her like it had.

“Oh my dear, you told me you didn’t have a tale to tell, and that just proved it a lie. That was wonderful. Oh, I could just see the darling cabin you stayed in, and the old tower on the verge of collapse,” Luna praised, clapping her hands together. “You know, it is dangerous on these roads alone, and old Chestnut here could make easy work of that cart of yours and I would love to see Crownsdale…”

“What do you say? Would you let me travel with you?” she asked softly, her voice sweet and gentle. “I could share with you the tales bards have on the origins of magic, and any other lore you might find out.

[totkdaily]

Day 53: The All-Clucking Cucco, and Koltin

The researchers at Foothill Stable are grateful to be clothed again. Jora says he still can't find his friend Dillie - they lost track of each other round Rebonae Bridge, near Wetland Stable to the south west. From what Jora says, it sounds like Dillie might have fallen in a cave. I'll keep an eye out, but I'm not headed that way for a while - I hope he's got rations. 

The korok up the hill by the stable is trying to reach a friend who's basically on the way to Akkala, just up the road. I hitch up Peaches to the stable's cart, load up the korok and set off. 

The old monster camp by the Akkala Road is empty - because they're on the bridge now!! Good grief. I charge Peaches through and we race for the stable. 

We reach South Akkala Stable just as a storm blows in. I give Addison a hand. 

Jana in the stable is preoccupied by a drawing of a beast on the wall. It's supposed to be this mystery beast I've heard about once or twice before. I don't know what to make of it.

Jana also mentions that her little sister Gleema is fascinated with a cucco oracle - whatever that is. What is it with this family and creatures - last time I was here, I think it was Gleema who wanted a bunch of dragonflies. 

Dmitri, who runs the stable, wants a picture of the Unity Bell in Tarrey Town. There's a tradition that two people who ring it will be together forever. His four daughters would love it - and I'm headed there.

Kaifa is another of his daughters, caring for the sheep. But she's lost a cucco - not the prophecy one, apparently - and it won't lay eggs unless one of the family is nearby. 

Penn is here! He's got no leads, and he wants to try the cucco prophecy to get some - or at least interview the people who come to see it. 

Kaifa's cucco is in the well - but I can't figure out how to get her out. 

Tenne is taking care of the horses - she wants to go to Tarrey Town one day and order a dream home. But first she wants a partner with kind eyes who knows how to bake - she hopes hanging the Unity Bell picture will help her dating life. Sweet.

After beating Parcy in an ore-smashing contest, I head up the hill to this cucco oracle. 

Gleema says horseys, not bugs, is her new interest. She wants to ask the All-Clucking Cucco if she'll be a horse one day, but the line is too long. 

Fashionista Falmark says he heard Cece was influenced by someone in Tarrey Town - maybe Hudson's wife? He stopped here to see the oracle, and the cucco told him there was treasure on a remote island in the northeast. He hopes this means clothes, but I think clothes being treasure is specifically a Misko thing. Unless this is a lead to one of Misko's chests? It's such a vague clue.

Lonnie is the only person still in the queue, but she needs more time to think and lets me go first. 

The cucco knows my name, and that I'm seeking Zelda, but that's hardly a secret. It says I will face many trials - the first of which is to get to the top of the Stable.

It takes me a second to find a place to ascend, but I do, and reach the top.

The second trial is… bring logs.

And the third is - the Yiga Clan! It's been so long! I'd almost forgotten about them, I can't believe they're still knocking about. I survive the ambush, and agree with Penn's assessment - the All-Clucking Cucco was nothing more than a Yiga scam. I wonder what it was supposed to achieve… 

It's pouring down. I think about heading into the stable for the night - but then I turn to check the skyline and see the familiar glow of Kilton's balloon, just past Ulri Mountain Skyview Tower. Except that he gave it to Koltin, didn't he? If that guy's still looking for bubbulfrog gems, I have plenty for him. I run and glide through the rain, ignoring the tower for the moment in case I miss the window and Koltin picks up for the night. I'm not sure what his schedule's like.

He gives me a moblin mask and tells me he can sense nearby bubbulfrogs now he's eaten some of their gems - strange that he still can't seem to catch any of them himself. He gives me three hinox toenails, the mystic robe, eight fire keese eyeballs, a lizalfos mask and five ice-breath lizalfos tails before I run out of gems for him.

I can see Tarrey Town from here. And it looks as though another town has sprung up on the banks of the lake below? 

I head back to the tower as dawn approaches. It would be silly to be so close and not to activate it.

[triscribe]

Fyrn

(Whipped up another flash fiction piece, also not quite close enough to what I need for the magazine submission but getting closer to the mark. Also, I think I'm going to write more with this character in future)

Fyrn couldn’t say when exactly the child turned up.

Somewhere between the last town and the start of the canyons, certainly. Plenty of small settlements in the region, preyed upon by bandits and kingcloaks alike - wouldn’t be unheard of for some wise parent to send their littles into the hills when such a party arrived.

But for one to turn up on the trade road? Alone? That didn’t sit well with Fyrn.

She’d been hired to guard the caravan from thieves and such, serve as a living warning to any kingcloaks that might turn up. Didn’t mean she couldn’t leave a bit of food behind when they got rolling each morning. Or drop her spare blanket at the edge of camp one night, outside the route walked by the pair of sentries. Her meals came free, after all, and there would be plenty of merchants to buy another blanket from at the end of the journey.

The child did well to keep out of anyone else’s sight, but Fyrn kept on catching glimpses, once or twice a day. A messy head of thick black hair ducking into a cliff crevice. Dirty hands darting to scoop some water from a horse’s bucket. Wide, dark eyes that twice met Fyrn’s own, staring for several seconds before their owner scooted out of view once more.

Several days into the sprawling canyons, Fyrn pretended to misplace her waterskin. The next morning, she awoke on her bedroll to find a tidy pile of small, bright yellow flowers laid on top of her sword. Smiling, she threaded each one into the laces of her jerkin. A few drivers tried to snicker, of course, but leaning close into one’s personal space with her lips pulled just a little too wide to be called a smile shut them all up soon enough.

She liked flowers.

She didn’t like when they almost all fell out during the fight some hours later.

Four and ten kingcloaks came riding down the road, spared one look at the heavy merchant wagons that pulled off to one side to let them pass, and promptly declared they needed to ‘inspect’ the goods for any ‘illegal’ items. The merchants took offense. Fyrn stepped up, planting herself in-between the dismounted party and the wagons.

Four and ten against one, and she still managed to kill half before taking a single wound.

After that, the fight turned uglier, some of the wagon drivers needing to take shots with their crossbows to finish it. Fyrn stabbed, she twisted and lunged, ignored the spreading burn in her shoulders and legs and gut. Her blade flashed as it swung, singing with each strike, until the last kingcloak went down.

Some of the merchants came out from hiding behind their wagons. They praised Fyrn, promised extra payment for her valor, guided her stumbling form to the half-empty supply cart. Two climbed up to help her in, cleaned and dressed her wounds, offered to fetch whatever she needed.

Fyrn only asked for a cloth to clean her sword.

After a time, the attention ceased, as merchants and drivers dispersed to bury the kingcloaks and ‘inspect’ their own belongings. Leaning back with her eyes closed, Fyrn kept her breathing steady as she waited for the pain to ease.

A light thump drew her attention.

Eyes snapping back open, she almost lunged upright, sword still in hand. But a pair of dark eyes made her freeze instead.

The child waited until Fyrn eased back against the sacks of grain and vegetables. Cautious steps eased forward, and little hands unfolded Fyrn’s spare blanket to drape across her legs. She huffed. Then plucked the sole remaining flower from her jerkin, to tuck behind the child’s ear.

When one of the drivers returned to announce they were about to resume travel, he stopped short and stared at the small figure curled up beside Fyrn. A single arched eyebrow made the man stammer out his message; a curt nod sent him on his way.

The child giggled. Fyrn tugged on a strand of curly hair, smirking.

No one else bothered to say a word or spare a glance at the caravan’s new tagalong, who proved to be very helpful in playing step-and-fetch for everything she needed. By the time her wounds healed into some impressive new scars, Fyrn decided she’d look into buying a good quality dagger at the end of their journey for her new student to practice using.

[goodmode]

random hc ask: some ppl think of some of the enemies like pets. ex., hollow getting a pet tiktik (which i happen 2 love). got any sort of bug pet hk headcanon?

my thoughts go to god tamer first! she's like the only example of anyone canonically having a pet that i can think of so i'd springboard off there and say Alright Let's Talk Sapience First

[feel free to skip to the readmore if you already have a solid idea of what's sapient and what's not. i doubt i'm saying anything other people haven't already picked up on]

we know the dream nail picks up thoughts of things like tiktiks and they display as words even if they're not obviously an upright walking talking bug, so i'm voting anything with god tamer's beast's dream nail dialogue set:

is probably petworthy. as in, not Some Guy. animal tier intelligence i guess.

according to the wiki this exact dialogue set applies to:

Tiktiks, Vengeflies, Crawlids, Gruzzers, Goam, all Aspids, Mosscreeps, Mossflies, Moss Chargers, Squits, Obbles, Durandoo/Duranda, Aluba, Ambloom, Fungling, Fungoon, Pilflips, Belflies, certain Flukes, Crystal Crawlers/Hunters, Glimbacks, Dirtcarvers, Dirtcarver Hatchlings, Garpedes, Corpse Creepers, Deeplings, Deephunters, Lesser Mawleks, Mawlurks, Infected Balloons, Booflies, Primal Aspids, [...]

i can't continue this list it's going to take me all day. you get the gist. there are a Lot of enemies that share the "probably not a sapient person" dreamnail pool. will be leaning heavily on that for What Can Safely Be Written As A Pet Without It Getting Too Weird

we probably can't include Flukes even though they also share the dialogue pool, because they're implied to grow into Flukemon which have separate dialogue and an obviously-sapient NPC (Fluke Hermit) so disregard those. there are also likely other exceptions i haven't covered so please use your head and apply a liberal pinch of salt.

we CAN probably include Vengefly King, Gruz Mother, and Brooding Mawlek since while their DN dialogue is different to their children it still doesn't seem to imply any higher-functioning thought than basic instinct, just a Big Parent Of The Same Thing

ok so individual character/pet ideas behind the cut bc i think this is a rly funny and charming thing to look at

zote. sorry he's first he's the funniest

zote is not one of those guys who would get a Big Dog thinking it makes him look cool and intimidating. he is the guy who puts a collar on a fucking coyote and thinks it makes him look cool and intimidating until it bites him in the dick.

it doesn't happen often, but sometimes he drags something back to Dirtmouth that is foaming at the jaws and insists it's his new faithful pet/steed that obeys his every command and will tear his enemies to pieces. it starts with a vengefly that he boasts about while it is actively chewing on his arm. it escalates from there.

the one thing preventing these beasts from tearing him to pieces is hornet coming in to truss up/confiscate the damn things before they can do any damage to the town

myla.

myla is familiar with glimbacks! she's a miner by trade even if she didn't come from hallownest originally, and i think these things are used as pit ponies in a lot of places. they're big sturdy beasts of burden that can be made to drag carts and carry heavy tools and they're described as "docile and slow" - no sudden movements and take well to handling.

she's never owned one but a living post-infection myla could adopt one of the surviving glimbacks from crystal peak and just kind of keep it like one keeps a rescue horse. horsegirl novel starring myla

cornifer & iselda.

they're married and do not currently have any kids for whatever reason - totally valid, this says nothing about them. however i do think it would be cute they get a dog instead and that's their placeholder baby. they get a mossfly and iselda spoils it with treats and it keeps her company while cornifer is gone. cornifer sometimes takes it for LONG WALKS (doesn't come back for 3 days).

sometimes they have that awkward moment where they're walking it in dirtmouth and it pees on something and they just have to smile and wave like "what can you do haha" while elderbug looks in in supreme disapproval because he has never owned a pet in his life and can't they just stop it from peeing there :/

millibelle.

owner of a yappy dog type crawlid, full-on grandma style. it has a solid shell like she does isn't that cute! she babytalks it and calls it sugarplum or whatever and insists it could never do a thing wrong in its life. it will savage your hand if anyone else tries to pet it.

emilitia.

she does not give a shit about anything that she thinks she'll outlast. Which Is Everything. however, millibelle has a crawlid, and boasts about it, and emilitia can't have that. she gets a tiktik in retaliation and it is exactly like a handbag chihuahua. hornet may or may not have to confiscate this one for the tiktik's sake

hornet.

everything still alive in the kingdom is under her protection, even if it bites. she is ambivalent to their responses to her. (they like her. when she comes back from pharloom playing silk music they like her even more)

lemm.

anti-pet person. i'm so fucking sorry. you bring a single thing into his shop that could pee or chew or scratch or leave tracks and he is going to kick up such a fuss. that said: he would have liked to feed maskflies in the park like your typical old man feeds pigeons

[keelywolfe]

The Bird in the Hand Shouldn't Punch the Gift Horse in the Mouth (baon)

Summary: All Sans wanted was lunch and instead he got the one thing he wasn't looking for: effort. Good thing Red is worth it.

Tags: Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Background Spicyhoney, 

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

All things considered, it was a pretty nice day on the surface world and Sans was sitting outside, working on what was likely his most important decision of the day.

Namely, trying to figure out what he was gonna do about lunch.

When they built the Embassy, it was designed with a large courtyard in the center, an overflowing garden space and lots of pathways and benches. Thanks to Asgore there was always something out there blooming, even in the dead of winter, and no one should ever underestimate the gardening skills of a Boss monster who suddenly had access to a decent fertilizer.

This year the new guy running the cafeteria came up with a plan that on nice days, there would be a food cart set up for anyone who wanted to eat out in the sunshine. For a buncha monsters who’d never even seen the rays a few years ago, much less had a chance to work on their tans, it was a popular lunchtime choice.

So popular that the line was entirely too fucking long and that meant Sans’s two favorite pastimes, laziness and food, were at war with each other. Eh, maybe more like a mild skirmish than a war, closer to a slap fight between two prom queens who’d worn the same dress.

Problem was, if a guy, say, a skeleton guy with impeccable fashion sense and a great sense of humor wanted some of the goodies, waiting in line was a requirement. If you missed out on the queue, you were stuck with whatever leftovers were lingering at the bottom of the bag. That was usually where the health food options hung out with vegetables and sadness; celery was no substitute when a guy was looking for deep fat fry.

Waiting in line vs tasty goodness, it was a dilemma and Sans was sitting on his regular bench as he contemplated the equation. Energy out (waiting in line) vs energy in (delish food) and he was so deep in mathsy logic that he didn’t even notice Red making his creeper way over.

Having a grease-stained paper tray shoved into his lap with a terse, “here,” was one way to derail his thought process. Sans grabbed it automatically before it could tumble down to the ground and raise the cholesterol of the local wildlife.

He looked down at the unexpected gift to see a tray of fries, but wait, not just any fries, fries from Louie's, one of the local extra-greasy spoons. The burgers there were pretty good but the fries, now those were a legit orgasmic experience, and these didn’t look like an exception to the rule. Still so fresh the heat was soaking through both the thin carboard and Sans’s shorts, the ketchup so recently applied it hadn't had time to soak in and make 'em soggy.

They looked fucking delicious, but Sans was always a little wary of unexpected gifts, especially ones that appeared from a certain red-eyed, shark-toothed genie.

Thing was, Louie's was halfway across town, further than either of them could easily, or even with fanatical difficulty, shortcut. Which meant Red was either involved in some sort of bribe/blackmailing incident or he’d managed to break several laws of physics, both of which were a lot of effort for him to put out before lunch.

Hm.

Sans picked up a fry with the same caution as he might disable a greasy bomb, studied the layer of ketchup intently, noting the sprinkle of salt. He ate it and it crunched lightly, gloriously, between his teeth, the golden crust bathed in fatty deliciousness the perfect vessel to contain the soft, mealy innards.

All in all, good shit. Well worth being poisoned if that were on the table.

Now that Sans had accepted his fate, he munched his way through the fries agreeably, ignoring Red when he heaved himself up to sit next to him on the bench. Or at least pretending to ignore him since actually doing it was a fast track to getting behind in the game. No tray of his own, interesting; Red wasn’t actually much of a fry fan, he preferred chili dogs. Sans didn’t have an opinion on Louie’s contribution to that genre, but Red always ordered ‘em there without complaint so they couldn’t be too bad.

What he did have in his possession was a coffee cup and instead of drinking from it, he set it next to Sans’s hip in silent, pointed communication.

Message received. Sans picked up the cup between wolfing down his unexpected and dubiously welcome lunch, and took a wary sip. On his tongue was not the burnt undernotes that was always in Louie’s coffee despite it being brewed almost constantly, a taste that lingered in the mouth hours later, even if a guy dispelled his tongue. No, this was pitch-black nitro blend that was only available in-house at the Beanery on Tuesdays.

Today was Friday. Hm. Another confusing clue in his unanticipated afternoon mystery. If any meddling kids showed up with a big-ass dog, Sans was heading back down to his office.

He was mostly done with his fries when another Monster approached them. Mandy worked upstairs in the administration offices doing fuck only knew what. She was a pretty little bird monster with a colorful crest on her head that popped up whenever she got enthusiastic.

Sans knew this because her enthusiasm extended to a reality TV show called ‘Romance Island Retreat’ and he knew that because she’d seen the button on his hoodie last week for Team Veronica and figured he was a fan, too.

Not that he’d ever seen the damn show, the pin was actually from the Archie’s comic books and he’d gotten it free last time he’d stopped to pick up his monthly stash at the local store, pinned it on without thinking much about it. But he’d never been one to piss on anyone else’s Wheaties, unlike other people who seemed to enjoy it, and he’d let her ramble on about it, nodding in all the right places and injecting predictable bullshit in at appropriate times. Wasn’t too hard, because OMG can you BELIEVE he did that? What an asshole move, right, and-and-and-

It'd been funny enough that he’d read up on the wiki about the show and they’d chatted a couple times since about it. Pierce was an asshole, but he really did hope Veronica made the final cut so he didn’t need to get a new pin.

There’d been a new episode last night and Mandy was probably filled to bursting about it, ready to go over it scene by scene over a little falafel and fries. And here was Red in her seat, studiously not looking at her as she hovered uncertainly by the bench with her lunch tray in wing.

Well, now. This was interesting.

Sans wasn’t much for puzzles, that was Paps’s schtick, but he damn well knew how to slide tab A into slot B. And out and in and out and in, but that wasn’t exactly work-safe, now was it.

Her excitement about last night’s totally-not-at-all scripted emotional rollercoaster didn’t seem able to stand up to Red’s menacing aura and she’d already visibly decided to sit somewhere else when Red said, a touch too loudly, "fuck off."

It would take a hardy soul indeed to make any sort of argument around Red’s version of logic and Mandy promptly fucked off, heading over to the benches on the other side of the oversized peonies bobbing in the breeze.

Sans licked the ketchup off a fry before eating it in two quick bites. "that was rude," he said mildly.

Red grunted. "that was barely on th' rude meter, you wanna see rude, i can give you a fuckin' show."

Yeah, from the side glances the other Monsters were giving them, that was exactly what they were hoping for. Not a single one of them made for the doors, all the assholes who worked here must’ve bought their survival instincts at the same store where Stretch shopped. Sans kept his voice low and even. "save it for broadway. what you can do is apologize."

Red looked at him like he'd suggested an all-night threeway with Jabba the Hut, with that shiny gold robot along to narrate.

Sans only serenely sipped his coffee, heh, say that three times fast. "unless you're looking to spend tonight on edge and stretch's sofa? 'cause we can arrange that, don't even need to make a reservation.”

It took years of practice to be able to look without looking at the skill level Sans had. Actual effort had been put into it and it was oh, so worth it for a glimpse of the seething outrage that practically seeped from Red’s expression.

Might as well raise the stakes. Sans licked his fingers clean then deliberately reached up to fondle the buckle of the collar fastened securely around his cervical vertebrae, lightly tracing the shape of the heart.

Outrage cranked up to something very close to murderous, teetering on the precipice of violence. Sans hooked a finger into the narrow band and pulled the collar taut, the scrape of leather against bone just barely audible.

For an endless moment, they hung right over the edge of the cliff, one foot dangling and the other right on top of the banana peel.

Then Red hopped to his feet, muttering under his breath as he stormed over to Mandy’s bench. If he stomped with any more force he'd be leaving shoeprints in the pathway. Mandy looked wisely concerned at his approach and whatever Red said only made it worse, her already large eyes widening. Sans doubted anyone in the courtyard would notice if Asgore put in a sudden appearance, stark naked and riding a unicycle.

Oh, yeah, this was gonna be all over the Embassy in about two minutes. He gave it about five before Edge called his brother to ask what the fuck he’d done, probably to silently confirm no bodies were laying around in need of a little discreet hiding.

Welp, might as well add Mandy to the list of people who probably weren’t gonna to be stopping by for game night. Huh, what would it be like to have Red spit an apology into your lap on a nice, sunny day over your ham and swiss on rye, hocking a ‘sorry’ right into your face? It was pretty chucklicious from this side of the equation and who said math wasn’t fun?

Not that the apology was really for her, anyway. Sans would have to apologize himself later for accidentally dragging her into their kink parade, she sure hadn’t signed on to walk with the clowns. Something to look forward to, maybe he could get her a Team Veronica t-shirt made up. If she let him get close enough to hand it over, might have to just leave it on her desk.

Apology concluded, Red stomped back and Sans swore he saw the branches on the trees quivering in his wake. He flung himself back on the bench and said nothing, only made a fair attempt at withering a patch of daffodils with his glare.

Sans waited, took a sip of his cooling coffee as he counted to ten and then did it again before he said, very softly, "good boy."

Oh, honey, it was worth a hundred apologies and a thousand t-shirts to see Red’s sockets briefly close as that shiver went through him. Worth so very much more.

"hope you got plenty of sleep last night," Red said through gritted teeth, “’cause tonight you’re gonna be pretty busy singing a fuckin' midnight symphony.” Oh, fuck, yes, there were dark promises in those words, caverns-deep, miles below the surface and ready to crawl out of the depths and make Sans grateful for many layers of bedroom soundproofing.

It was a beautiful, sunny day, there was coffee, silent promises, and french fries, and Sans was more than happy to take another grateful bite.

-finis-

[mc-writing-empty]

1902, Kentucky.

The fire’s gone out.

Turn a little deeper into the cotton quilt your mama made in some other lifetime. Blink slow against the dimness, steep deep in the stillness as the night stretches, yawns, gives way to a blessed new morning. You are alive again.

Cold and hungry. Feel the stiffness in your bones. Feel the heavy in your flesh. The tired, the lonely, the longing. But there’s a heart thumping under your ribs—feel it sing, slow and steady, at the sight of sunbeams. Sunbeams, again, like every morning that’s ever been. Sunbeams—new every day to a heart like yours, a heart that says: sunbeams, they’re a goddamn wonder.

Lead with it—that steady little drum of joy. Grab hold and let it pull your feet to the old floorboards. Little heart, pattering out a plea to see the sky—what shade of blue today? The question is as good a reason as any to commit to another day.

Dress in the gray light. Pull on the flannels and linen and denim that will keep the cold at bay. Keep your body safe. You know what’s at stake, kid. You know what it takes—to keep your body safe.

Breathe deep, cough against the rush of the cold—your breath hangs in the air. Little ghosts. Water from the bucket by the window, splashed against your face—close to frozen, stings against your skin. You’re awake. You’re alive.

Pull on leather boots, hope the laces got another day in them. Walk out into the wide world—see the slope of the clearing you made, the way the high grass meets a wall of trees—trees bigger than god, and maybe older, too. They hug in tight around your slice of paradise, your hard-hewn home. They form a cathedral of green—and brown and gold and flashes of deep, dark red. Like old blood, dried in a smear under your heavy, swollen lip after your Pa had finally had enough of you.

There’s a quiet here so deep you can feel it in your bones. Quiet like the moment after the preacher asks for bowed heads, but before he starts praying for hell to swallow all the sinners like you. Quiet like the first girl you ever loved, in that moment after you spilled that soft, silly confession to her—but before that foreign hardness took her face, before the slow panic and repulsion made her a stranger you’d never met. Quiet like that moment when you learned your first lesson in self-preservation: love is for other people. Better people.

It’s a real shame, kid—the way the world kicks around beautiful things.

But you’re alright here, ain’t you? You’re alright. You feed the bleating sheep in their little pasture, and the chickens, too, and you love that there’s life in every inch of this place. The sheep, the sun, the seeds in the ground—they don’t give a shit who you are or what you’ve done. What you look like, what you own. You give to them, they give back. You’re alright here.

You go down to the crick for water, just as the sun starts pouring proper down into your little dip between the hills. You can feel it, warm and easy against the back of your neck. The cold can’t hold you forever. Nothing can hold you forever.

The afternoon brings a visitor—a boy, a horse, an empty cart, trundling up the holler path. You split one more log, let the pieces fall, lean the ax against the same post where you’ve hung your shed coat. The boy hops down from his saddle, raises a hand in greeting.

Brought your saw back.

He lifts the tool in question for you to see.

Pa sends his thanks.

You take the saw, and he dives into his bag to bring out a small parcel wrapped in a bit of an old flour sack.

Cornbread from Mama.

You thank him for returning the saw, and for the cornbread. He’s tall and lean—maybe a little underfed. His shoes are two sizes too small. His coat’s missing a few buttons. A boy still, pushing at the seams of what will come next. His parents can’t keep up.

You ask if they need any firewood. He refuses, says his Pa won’t accept charity. You eye the empty cart his Pa sent along with him.

You tell him he can take whatever he can split—ain’t charity if you’ve sweat for it. By the evening, he has a full cart, and you split the cornbread with him on the porch.

And maybe it’ll all count for something someday. Maybe it’ll all count when hell finally swallows you up.

Before he leaves, he stops there on the creaky old steps, looks back up at you.

Pa says you’re a good, Christian man, sir. He thinks mighty high of ye. Just thought you oughta know.

Maybe it’ll all count, when his Pa has to help put you in the ground someday.

When the evening comes, you retreat inside. Feed the fire, warm the place up. Cold dinner, ‘cause your body’s awful tired, kid. Your mind, too. You dig up a box of tobacco, take a pinch and pack it into a pipe you won in a game of cards—maybe one of the finest items you own. You sit on the porch and watch the last of the burnt bronze evening melt back into the trees. You’re alright here.

Just as the darkness of the night swells up, you see the flicker of a lantern up yonder on the hill—a soft, yellow star moving through the trees.

Could be anyone. Could be the boy, come back for more wood. Or this could be the moment everything unravels. Could be the night they drag you behind a horse, put you in a tree, bury you as someone you’re not.

You aren’t scared, but you’re ready—you fold your fingers around the rifle leaned next to the door and wait for hell to open up and swallow the sinners like you.

A quiet knock.

You open the door.

It’s her. The widow from over the next holler. She stands silent in the doorway, and her dark, tired eyes meet yours. She’s dry as a bone, but in the empty pools of shadow cast by her lantern, you could swear she was a drowning woman.

You let her step inside and you exchange pleasantries, as you always do on these visits. She asks after the book she loaned you—have you been enjoying it? You confess you haven’t had much time for reading. She offers to read a chapter or two aloud for you.

That’d be real nice, ma’am.

But neither of you moves to retrieve the book. Her hands cling to the black linen skirts of her dress, knuckles gone white with it. You can feel the empty, howling grief that came in with her, followed her like a roving spirit. You wish you knew how to help.

She cuts the space between you in half a step and touches her lips to yours. She tastes like tears and uncertainty and so many sleepless, heartsick nights.

It’s not proper. It’s not the way things ought to be. It’s not what either of you imagined, back when you were small and the world told you what your hearts should want. But no one prepares you, do they? For the weight of it all. For the sadness that creeps in between the boards, settles into your chest like a cough you can’t shake. For the way the haints and hurts hollow you out, slow and steady, until you wake up one day feeling like maybe you ain’t even a real person anymore.

You know she’s just lonely. You know she misses her husband and that you ain’t him. Don’t wanna be him. But when she pulls off your clothes, all those layers of the day—when she sinks in against you, meets your skin to hers—you remember, for a moment, that you’re wonderfully, terribly, brilliantly human. And that’s enough.

Later, in the deepest part of the night, she does read to you. Her voice dips and lulls through the bare little room, until you can’t really distinguish the words themselves—all you can hear is low, lush birdsong, and the content thumping of your own heart.

You sleep the sleep of the safe and relieved—heavy, deep sleep—and by the morning—

—the fire’s gone out.

You watch as she dresses silently in the first sunbeams of the day. As she leans in toward your dusty little mirror and pins her hair back into place. Hasty, but careful. She gathers her things, prepares to leave.

She hesitates, turns back to you in your bed. Maybe you could pretend to be asleep, but—you’ve been seen now. There’s no going back.

There’s a long, soundless moment that stretches out in the space between you. She says:

You aren’t a man.

Statement or question or accusation—you can’t be sure what she means. Can’t be sure that it matters. You give no response.

But underneath your mother’s quilt, your hands begin to tremble with fear.

She leans down, kisses your forehead with reverence, the way folks kiss the statues of saints. Or maybe it’s with pity, the way folks woulda kissed the corpses of those saints before they put them in the ground.

She leaves you there with your trembling hands.

And the fire’s gone out.

[blazehedgehog]

Interested in that new Suicide Squad game?

Not even a little, no. It's got the stink of a live service game all over it, it's been delayed to hell and back, none of the previews I saw sounded even a little bit positive...

It's as bad or possibly even worse than that Marvel's Avengers game, where it's the world's most bland game jam packed full of free-to-play mobile game junk. Except now they're asking $70 for it.

I'm getting really tired of every game having a loot system, or RPG mechanics where they don't belong, or whatever. All these little things to puff up play time, to fake the appearance of depth, and make it easier for them to sell you gacha packs.

It's like every game is Pokemon now: gotta collect everything, gotta raise everything up to max level, gotta grind against a million different numbers, because oh man, you think Harley Quinn's Mythic Clown Warhammer is good now? Wait until it's level 99.

And then next year, when they raise the level cap? Holy crap, dude.

Think of all the time you spent doing that stuff. Chasing stats. Pretending that grinding is automatically a substitute for depth. People love number go up. And I'm not even immune to that! In a good game I like to play, having an excuse to keep playing it is nice!

But more and more and more games are putting the cart before the horse. It's like they build a shopping mall and then fill it full of vendors that only sell old onions and manure. "It'll pay for itself," they say. "A lot of people need onions and manure." Not taking into account they're right next door to more useful stores people already go to.

And every game is a job now. I play Fortnite for about 90 minutes every night, something I've been doing for the last four or five years. The thought of playing any other live service game on top of Fortnite makes my bones creak like an old man.

Like, a specific friend is the one who enabled me to play Fortnite. He bought me a Founder's Pass for Save the World back in 2019, which means I get free v-bucks currency as long as I complete at least one mission per day. Depending on how luck falls, there have been days where I get upwards of 200vb per day, for free. Over the course of a month, that adds up pretty significantly.

We've both joked that the only reason we're still playing Fortnite after all this time is we always have currency for the shop because we get it for free. A Fortnite estimator website once said my account is worth multiple thousands of dollars, but I've actually spent maybe $100 total in real money over the last five years on it (about $20 per year).

Anyway, that same friend recently tried to drag me into playing Disney Speedstorm, because he loves that game. In the three or four months since he's been trying to lure me over, I have booted the game up maybe five times total. It is fun, but it's also a "this game is your job now" live service product. And my bones creak.

The stench of that coming off of Suicide Squad is too pungent to ignore.

[braveclementine]

Are We a Family?

Warnings: None (maybe some slight angst)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

The AI really did not want to give me what I wanted for Frozaline. This is sort've the colour I imagine for the outfit, but I also thought it would look more like Frozones outfit with a mix of this ice blue and then gold. But they didn't put any gold in this outfit. And Idk wth she's holding either. Or what's around her neck. Or why her outfit is so much more provocative than the others. 

😬🫠 şŤ𝕆尺𝓎 ⛵🌸

"Hush little baby don't say a word

mommas gonna buy you a mockingbird."

Elizabeth sang softly, rocking back and forth on her feet, Kisa in her arms. Rue was already fast asleep in her crib and Mateo was curled up in his crib, sucking on his thumb with a stuffy in his arms. But Kisa was fretting, not wanting to go to sleep.

"And if that mockingbird doesn't sing, papas gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass, mommas gonna buy you a looking glass."

Elizabeth wanted to go down to the beach and join the others in the orgy. She had missed interacting with them like that, especially as she hadn't been feeling well the first day on the island.

"And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat and if that billy goat doesn't pull, Mommas gonna buy you a cart and bull. And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover."

Elizabeth started to smile as Kisa's large black eyes started to flutter closed and then Elizabeth suddenly froze a little, sensing something in the water, surrounding the island.

Her voice started to trail off, "And if that dog named Rover doesn't bark, Mommas' gonna. . . buy you. . . a horse. . . and cart."

She pressed her lips softly to Kisa's forehead, before putting her down in the crib, hurrying from the room.

She had felt. . . well whatever this was. . . around the island for some time now. It had seemed faint in the beginning and she hadn't been worried, though if it came within a mile radius of the island shore, she got a strange pit in her stomach like she had gone down a roller coaster.

But now, it was less than a mile in from shore and whatever it was, was giving her goose bumps. She had thought at first, that perhaps it was some sort of machine, like a submarine or a submersible, something like that.

But no, it was definitely animal like. But it felt. . . wrong.

She headed through the beach house, feeling that the presence was coming from the opposite end of where the others were on the beach. As she exited through the glass doors onto the patio, she held out her hand, her trident flying into it in seconds.

She pressed a button on her bracelet on her wrist. Her golden armored shirt came out over her chest. Holding out her other hand and concentrating on using the water current, she collected her shurikens as well, letting them fall into place on her belt.

The beach house stood ontop of a hill, so that when the water came in, it wouldn't flood the basement. She stood at the top now, and watched the creatures that were crawling up onto the beach.

It looked like something from a dinosaur book. It was turquoise green with brown and black mixed into the scale pattern. It had huge yellow eyes and a arched back with the sort of fan shape that was associated with monsters such as these. It had a long tail as well, which was thick, swishing back and forth.

It walked on four legs, each one having six claws at the end of its feet. When it opened its mouth, there was a black tongue inside its mouth and its fangs were each eight inches long and sharp at the ends.

They moved gracefully however, moving almost like some sort of big cat.

At the moment, there were six on the beach, but she could still feel the presence of more further out into the depths.

'What are they?' She asked, almost to herself, but naturally Viden answered.

'It seems your mother has created them in order to track you down. They will always be able to find you.' Viden replied. 'They also seem engineered to track down Rue.'

Elizabeth gritted her teeth, before summoning water to set a shield around the entire house. Keeping the water in place and freezing it, she turned back to the monsters. 'What's the easiest way to kill them?'

'They're still part machine. In their brains, there is a circuit box. Break it and they're down. Each one will have to go down individually though. None of them are connected to each other or any sort of mainframe.' Viden informed her.

"Okay then." She murmured out loud. She reached into her pocket and pulled out earbuds, putting them in her ear and then hit the randomized playlist.

I hardly think I'm qualified to come across all sanctified I just don't cut it with the cherubim

She ran down the hill, letting the music blast in her ear, before leaping, landing on a wave of water, before letting the water loosen under her, turning into droplets, splashing into the creatures eyes, before landing on the creatures head. She slammed the trident straight down through the head of the first creature.

It let out a roar of an actual creature dying in pain, before it fell to its side. But she paid it no mind, leaping to the next creature. It tossed its head back and she slid it under him, stabbing it up through the chin.

It's tough to be a god Tread where mortals have not trod Be defied when really you're a sham

She threw her trident through the head of the next monster and grinned, barring her teeth almost annalistically, pulling her shurikens from her belt. She let them fly from her hands, into the eyes of the creatures and they all fell dead.

And more started to emerge from the waters.

🔆🏌️‍♂️ ℙㄖ𝕍 ᑕ𝔥α𝓷𝓰乇 🌼🤏

"What the hell was that?" Clint asked as everyone became more alert, sitting up. Elijah froze where he was, sitting next to Ghaida. Penny got to her feet, wishing she had brought something to wrap herself in afterwards. Like a robe.

"Elizabeth." Elijah yelped, jumping to his feet, running, turning into fire and taking off towards the sky, flying over the island.

Bucky and Steve tore off after him by foot.

"Um." Katya's voice quavered and she pointed, "That's not. . . that's not real, right?"

Penny turned and was horrified to see what looked like a dinosaur slowly coming out of the water. It's fangs were bared.

It didn't even have time to approach them, before something came down, slamming a golden weapon through its head.

Penny blinked, seeing Elizabeth there, pulling her trident from its head. She looked amazing, wearing golden armor over her chest, a gold mask across her eyes to show they were glowing blue. Golden gauntlets climbed up her arms and she looked powerful and strong as she let the water rise up out of the ocean, settling above her.

Penny watched, stunned as the water droplets formed and twisted, turning into sharp spears of water, plunging down into the beasts heads.

Elizabeth let the water rise her and she looked at them over her shoulder, "Get to the house. Stephen, open a portal."

And then she was gone, using the water to almost run back to the other side of the island where they could see flames had started to rise.

"Go." Tony ordered Stephen, "Get them to safety."

Tony ran across the sand, before his Iron Man suit came out around him and he took off as well to the sky. Pietro was gone in an instant.

Wanda moved to go with them and Clint grabbed her arm, "No, you can't. You're pregnant."

Wanda hesitated, and then nodded.

"I'll go." Vision said calmly and he floated into the air to follow.

"Let's go." Stephen said, having opened a portal. Penny quickly hurried through the portal and found that she was in the babies bedroom. There was already a dead dinosaur thing in the room and the babies were missing.

"RUE?" Sam shouted, "KISA? MATEO?"

Penny found herself throwing herself out the bedroom to rush to where she knew she had laid Chamber down for a nap. She burst through the door and was nearly shot by Bucky as she did so.

"Penny." Bucky gasped. He was holding Rue in his arms, who was bleeding in the arm. Bucky himself was bleeding, looking like the dinosaur thing had bitten him as well. Kisa, Mateo, and Chamber all looked fine.

"LOKI!" Penny screamed and Sam and Loki came running. Both of them dropped by Bucky's side.

"Buck?" Sam asked in concern as Bucky nearly shoved Rue into Loki's arms.

"Her first." Bucky near snarled in pain.

Loki did as commanded, healing Rue quickly. They could hear the fighting outside. Roars of the creatures, Tony and Rhodey's blasters, Steve yelling something along with the sounds of guns.

"What are these things?" Penny asked, wondering if any of them knew the answer.

"No idea." Bucky panted, a slight sheen of sweat on his face as Loki put his hands on him, healing him up. "But their bite hurts like a bitch."

Elizabeth came in through the door a few moments later after Bucky was healed and things had quieted down. She lifted her mask from her face, putting the blood covered trident down and collapsed by her knees by Bucky's side.

Bucky pulled her into a hug, with Rue between the two of them. Loki stood, quietly exiting the room and Penny went with him- or at least followed him- to see what had happened everywhere else.

She found that everyone was in the common room. Elijah had a nasty cut from his hairline down his face. Ghaida was tending to it at the moment with ointment and bandages.

Steve's arm was bleeding while Clint helped him fix it up. Tony and Rhodey's suits looked nearly destroyed like scrap metal, but they were unharmed. Pietro was wincing as Wanda tended to his leg, which looked like raw meat after the claws were done with it.

Loki immediately headed to each person to start healing them and when Elizabeth came out with Bucky, Sam, and the four children, she healed up Pietro and Steve easily as Loki finished with Elijah and then collapsed in a chair.

"What the hell was that?" Tony finally asked after everyone seemed to be able to catch their breath.

"I must leave." Elizabeth said softly. "The creatures were something my mother designed to hunt down me and Rue. I'll take Rue and the two of us will run. The rest of you will be safe."

"Not happening." Bucky, Steve, Elijah, and several of the others responded.

Elizabeth just shook her head, "There is no reason to continuing putting the rest of you in danger. What if she sends them again? Look how hurt you all are- what if someone dies the next time? What if next time we're in New York and innocent people are hurt? I refuse."

After a moment of silence, Elizabeth stood up and moved like she was going to leave then.

"Sit your ass back down." Steve growled.

Elizabeth sat.

Steve moved from where he had been standing, coming to stand in front of her. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "There will be no universe, no situation, no scenario where you will be leaving to 'protect us', especially when you'll be taking our daughter with you. We-" Steve moved his finger to circle around everyone in the room, "-are a family. And you're a part of that. So unless you don't want to be with us anymore, unless you are going to say we're not your family, then you stay here. You stay with your family."

Elijah shot Steve an angry look at that, but he didn't say anything.

"So," Steve finished, looking down at the ground, "I'll ask you this once. Are we a family, or not?"

Penny found that it seemed everyone was holding their breath, looking at her. As though her answer was the deciding factor in a cosmos of occurrences. As though if she said no, everything would fall apart by the seams.

Elizabeth stood up, walking until she had buried her face in Steve's chest, wrapping her arms around him, "We're a family Steve."

And Steve wrapped his arms around her and Penny heard herself give a relieved sigh, before she got up and went to bed.