#poor idiot lizards

[wishuroses]

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 𓇼 oh say it ditto, aonung.

✶ pairings: aonung x sully!reader

✶ warnings: fluff, fighting, reader is awkward, flirty and touchy aonung, spicy tension if u squint hard enough maybe idk fuck around and find out, reader the ultimate brozoner, reader and lo’ak evil twin agenda, not proofread whatsoever, uppercase intended!

✶ word count: 2k

✶ na’vi glossary: kenten – fan lizard, paskalin – honey, skxawng – idiot.

✶ a/n: me vs stealing kpop song lyrics to use as titles LOL i literally had to rewind some scenes like a thousand times to get everything down right hehe.. happy reading! >:-)

After nearly weeks of traveling on your ikrans, your family had finally arrived in Awa’atlu, desperately seeking Uturu to get away from war. You were standing beside your brother, Neteyam, your lanky arms hanging awkwardly in front of you, tense hands clasped together in a poor attempt to ground yourself.

You felt even more awkward when an–admittedly attractive– boy and his friend entered the crowd. Once the two of you made eye contact–his being a thousand times more intense than yours, burning into you like a hundred suns– you immediately brought your hand to your forehead, a sign of respect.

Instead of him doing the same like you thought he would, he flared his nostrils and looked you up and down with a narrowed glare. His stare made a feeling flutter deep in your stomach, like someone alerted a field of colorful kenten.

Oh. He was sizing you up.

With an inaudible inhale, you shuffled closer to Neteyam, his heavy arm immediately coming to wrap around your tense shoulders, thumbing at scarred skin, effectively grounding you. Your big amber eyes never broke away from Aonung’s baby blue ones, furrowing your eyebrows and flicking your ears upward in embarrassment from being blatantly ignored. He would definitely be a problem later.

It was when your dad whispered an “it’s alright, be cool” that you finally broke his gaze, opting to look at the ground beneath you. Your thick braids curtained the sides of your face, beads clicking together harmoniously–the feeling of being watched intensely from a crowd of na’vi made you feel nauseous, dizzy, and even more alienated; your nose twitching as the the saltiness of the air nearly intoxicates you.

The sand felt weird, foreign, incredibly unfamiliar to the dark soil you already missed digging your feet into. The waves crashing against the shore, however, sounded lovely. The wind blows, it passes over, beneath, and between the mangroves, one after another, never to return. Though, it wasn’t enough to fill the void. You hoped that after all this blew over, you and your family would be able to go back home–but the gnawing voice at the back of your head knew that would never happen.

“These children are not even true Na’vi.”

You harshly blinked away the tears that threatened to spill when you felt the Tsahìk rip one of your clasped hands away, only to hold your four-fingered hand up for the scrutinizing crowd to see. Her voice boomed with authority.

“They have demon blood!”

The only thing you could hear were ringing in your ears, your own pulsing heartbeat, and the scared gasps of the na’vi surrounding you.

Welp. This is your life now. Your home.

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 ✿̅

“Hey!” Lo’ak yelled, striding up to Aonung and his crew with you following closely behind, “Back off, fishlips.” Kiri took a few small steps back, looking between the both of you in a slight panic; you nodded towards her and she nodded back with a small, yet obviously forced smile on her face, the look in her eyes gave you just enough to know she was fine.

Aonung’s face quickly morphed into a smirk, his tone criminally sardonic. By Eywa, this boy is evil. “Oooh, more four-fingered freaks!” He cackled wickedly, lightly shoving Lo’ak–almost playful– like he wasn’t tormenting Kiri a few moments ago. Him and his gang started to crowd around your twin, pulling and touching the thin tail that flicked with annoyance.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri chorused, the plea sitting desperately on her tongue.

With an exaggerated sigh, you ran up beside Lo’ak and shoved Aonung with as much strength as your lithe body could muster at the moment, running off of pure adrenaline. The push wasn’t that strong, but strong enough that it made Aonung take a few steps back, admittedly flustering him a little. “Dude, don’t touch him!” You emphasized, your frantic, honeyed eyes as wide as can be, staring back into his.

Time seemed to stop for Aonung as he took in your appearance like he did the first time you two saw each other, yet you were even beautiful up close. His eyes looked between your left eye, your right, and then to your lips. Before his own mind could even register, he wrapped his big hand around your wrist, indulging in how it nearly engulfed your entire hand. Once his thumb caressed your skin, you felt your heart jump.

“Beautiful..” Aonung whispered– his voice low and deep– so that just the two of you would be able to hear it. His tongue swiped at his bottom lip, effectively distracting you from what was really important at the moment.

It seems that he was too caught up in taking you in, narrowly missing the way Neteyam was currently striding up to him with vigor, shoving him with way more force than you ever had, resulting in everyone going quiet and shifting their attention towards him.

“You heard what they said.” Neteyam started, pointing an accusing finger at Aonung. “Leave them alone.”

“Back off, now.”

Aonung raised his hands up in mock surrender, looking off to the side as Neteyam continued to stare holes into his head.

“Smart choice. And from now on I need you to respect my sisters.”

“Let’s go.” Neteyam gathered you, Kiri, and Lo’ak like sheep, ready to walk away and get whatever the hell was happening over with.

“Look at them. They’re all freaks, the whole family.”

Lo’ak sighs deeply at this and makes his way back over to Aonung and his friends.

Watching him with wide eyes, your heart panged as you figured out what would happen as soon as he steps into their vicinity again. “Lo’ak..” You chided, hurriedly looking back towards your twin and the snickering guys behind him.

“I got this, sis.”

Lo’ak, in fact, did not have it. A huge fight broke out between everyone, excluding Kiri of course. What kind of twin would you be if you didn’t jump in?

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 ✿̅

You all were definitely about to get the lecturing of a lifetime–or, you and Lo’ak, at least. Lo’ak had his hand wrapped around his arm, Neteyam rubbing at his bloodied nose, while you had your arms crossed, nails digging into your elbows. All with Jake trailing behind, practically seething with anger.

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?”

“Stay out of trouble–” You and Lo’ak chorused, Neteyam looking off to the side.

“Stay out of trouble, right.”

“And you,” Jake started incredulously, turning his stern gaze towards you. He knew you and Lo’ak were alike, down to a T, so maybe he really shouldn’t be surprised, yet he still couldn’t help but feel a semblance of disappointment pang in his chest as he watched the pinkish hue of Aonung’s blood stain the tips of your teeth and the cracks of your bruised lips. “You bit Aonung!”

“I did not–” “Yes, you did! Oh, so now you’re starting to lie to me?” Immediately, your ears cast downward, the loudness of his voice making tears brim your eyes and your bottom lip tremble. He was right, you actually did lie, the taste of iron fresh on your tongue to further prove his point. But how you hated when your father spoke to you like this–the weight of shame and disappointment dripping down your shoulders like hot syrup.

You felt Lo’ak and Neteyam’s stare burn into the side of your head like hot coals, their hearts heavy as they both watched their little sister get scolded for something she didn’t start.

Neteyam pursed his lips before stepping in front of you and Lo’ak, ready to defend. “Sir, it is all my fault–”

“I don’t think so. You gotta stop taking the heat for these two knuckleheads.” Your shoulders were pinched as a tear ran down the slope of your rounded cheek, hand coming up to quickly swipe it away. Neteyam stepped over to place a hand on your back.

“Dad, Aonung was picking on Kiri.. called her a freak.” Lo’ak said softly, as to not make your father raise his voice any more than he already was. Jake’s stern gaze softened at this, looking off to the side. He sighed audibly before looking back to the both of you.

“Go apologize to Aonung.”

“What?” You and Lo’ak said in unison, both of your eyebrows furrowing.

“He is the chief’s son, do you understand? I don’t care how you do it, just make peace. Just go.”

And with that, Lo’ak sighed and shook his head, stray braids swinging with the movement, walking off to go find Aonung with you scurrying behind like a lost, pitiful puppy. You didn’t dare look back when Jake called for Neteyam, only focusing on controlling your own harsh breathing. This had to have been the worst day of your life.

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 ✿̅

“Run that by me again.”

“..Whatever that means.”

“Repeat what you said.”

“I said, if you allow me to court your sister, you will be pardoned.”

“Dude, I am not prostituting my sister. Are you nuts or something?”

“Not prostituting, I just happen to like her.”

Well, you thought, so much for trying to apologize.

You were currently hiding behind a nearby tree, ears alert as you listened in on their conversation. Lo’ak told you to stay put, that he’d go apologize to the dude himself since you didn’t have anything to do with it; technically you did bite him, and his friend.. and two more of his friends. But that was because you had teeth, so why not use them for what they’re made for?

By the time Aonung blinked, you were already at your twin’s side, amber eyes glancing into amber eyes before peeking into his blue ones. “I am very sorry, Aonung, but I don’t think Kiri is interested in you. Like, at all.” You said with a tilt of your head, beads thudding almost mockingly.

After an awkward beat of silence, Aonung cleared his throat. “No, I’m not talking about Kiri..? I’m talking about you, (Y/N).”

Lo’ak gawked at him as if he had grown fifteen heads, eyebrows raised incredulously. “Bro–” “I accept your offer.” Now Lo’ak was staring at you as if you were crazier for even accepting, mouth open cartoonishly wide. Aonung, however, looked extremely pleased at your response, glancing at Lo’ak in a way that screamed ‘she said it, not me’.

“Whatever. Let me know if you need me to beat him up, okay? And you, bring my baby sister back before eclipse.” Lo’ak huffed before turning to set off along the shore, shaking his head in the procress.

“Not a baby, Lo’ak, we were born five minutes apart!” You complained in English, making Aonung’s ears perk up at the foreign language that spilled from your mouth.

Lo’ak turned to you, flipping you off with both hands raised in the air–even with his thumbs out. Disrespectful. “Girl, bye!”

You watched your brother walk further and further, his silhouette getting smaller and smaller. Blinking, you turned to Aonung, only to find out he’s already staring you down intensely. Acknowledging him with a nod of your head, you felt your cheeks flush at his attention, a fluttering feeling took over the pit of your stomach.

Aonung crowded you, tucking his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him. “Just so you know, I would have courted you even without your brother’s permission, sweet girl.” His eyes were even prettier up close, a striking narrowed blue boring into your honey ones. You felt your heart violently palpate at the name, and with a nervous exhale, you shied away from his hand.

“Come.” You quipped sweetly, skipping ahead with Aonung following close behind, his eyes trailing down your form, stopping at the pretty woven bow that sat right at the base of your tail. His gaze snapped back to your face when he saw you face him in his peripheral, heart thudding against his ribcage. “Do you call everyone ‘sweet girl’?”

“No, only you. You are very pretty, by the way.”

“Thanks bro.” He internally cringed at the choice of label, it was a habit, obviously, but Aonung didn’t seem to mind it very much; he knew it would change over the course of time. “You think the same about Lo’ak?”

“By Eywa, no, he doesn’t look half as good as you, paskalin.”

“He is my twin, skxawng. We look the same.”

Aonung went silent for a few moments, scanning your features before responding. “.. Not necessarily. The shape of the hair over your eyes are both the same, though. I will give you that much.”

Your laugh fluctuated throughout the air, singing harmoniously with the crashing waves. You desperately trying to ignore the way your entire body felt like it was lit up in flames when he placed his hand on the small of your waist, thumbing at the skin, you were sure he could hear your heartbeat threatening to jump out of your chest.

Looking up at him, you noticed the small multitude of bite marks along his shoulders and arms, your ears lowering in guilt when the phantom taste of iron filled your mouth, remembering what your dad told you.

“Also–uhm– sorry for biting you.. so many times.”

“It’s okay, I liked it, sorry for calling you a freak.”

“No hard feelings. I’ve said worse about you with Lo’ak.” Aonung decided he would ignore that last part, while you decided to ignore the first part of his statement, feeling your face flush for the thousandth time today.

“I really did like it, by the way, you biting me. Do it again next time.”

“.. Jesus christ.”

“Who?”

You didn’t really like it here at first, but since the Olo’eyktan’s son currently had his hand digging into the skin of your waist with full intent on courting you, you guess you could make it work.

[spopsalt]

Going into detail about EVERYTHING I hate about spop

This was the winner of the poll! Keep in mind these are in no particular order! I hope you enjoy it! This VERY long post so be warned!

The representation it's so bad, a lot of it is just stereotypes. Bow being the black best friend, Mermista being the sassy black woman, Catra being the angry Hispanic woman, and the only autistic character being put ON A LEASH!? The only non-binary character being a fucking LIZARD!?

Catradora. It is awful. It is so bad. It's so romantized despite being in a KID'S SHOW! That's what I hate most about it. Little kids will see this and believe this is how they should treat the person they love, or this is how someone who loves them treats them. It's just bad. Really bad.

How they ignore everyone's trauma. Some characters have some really interesting trauma that could be explored, but they just get ignored for abusive catgirl! Seriously, some of the trauma could be legitimentally interest, like Micah, how did he feel about not being able to say goodbye to his wife? About being in beast island for years? Haha no you idiots, he has no trauma! He's just a goofy dad haha! How about Glimmer who also didn't get to say goodbye to her mom, who sacrificed herself so everyone else can live? Who was crushing under the pressure of being queen! Who had everyone around her ignore her mom's death? Who got manipulated by Shadow Weaver when she was vulnerable? Haha! No, she has no trauma! Angella, always feels a lingering guilt about her husband, who believes her husband is dead. Haha! Nope! No trauma! (I used three examples but there is so much more)

Seahawk. That's it.

The way they treat war, they've treated it as a joke, a game, and a backdrop, they don't show how it affects people, we couldn't of gotten to see citizens stories of how their lives were affected? Nope!

The amount of filler. White Out and Mermesteries, have no point other than being annoying filler, they don't have any meaning to the plot, and to make it worse they just drag on and on.

The wasted potential. This is so annoying. It has so much potential, if it was given to competent writers, it could've been so good, maybe even a masterpiece, but it's just so...bad.

The "jokes" I'm being nice by calling them jokes. They are more like awkward moments that beg you to laugh. Haha Kyle, a poor innocent kid gets bullied for the 35455467568th time please laugh! Haha! Bow's voice cracks for the 967986786897th time! Laugh again!

Seamista, Mermista looks like a teenager, and Seahawk looks like he's an adult. Mermista clearly doesn't like Seahawk, Seahawk just kept invading her boundaries and eventually, they got together. Seriously what the fuck?

Worldbuilding, it is so bad at it. We never see any citizens or get a feel for how the world looks, the only difference is cosmetic

Catra's redemption arc. Just in general. it was so rushed.

The needless ships in season 5, they are so rushed and have no purpose to the plot.

The princesses are so boring and one note, for them being the title, they don't do much.

The character arcs, or lack thereof, the ones we do get are boring and one note.

The pacing is just so bad, it's either too slow or too fast.

Season 5. It's self explanatory.

That's about all I could think of at the moment! Let me know what you think!

[thelongestway]

B5 first watch on the rewatch, "The Parliament of Dreams"

This was a fun episode! My B5 friend cackled that this was up my alley, and indeed a showcasing of cultures is that. I actually liked both storylines. Now I get what you all meant about the aides - poor Ko'dath! I guessed it was a makeup issue (the bane of all modern sci-fi!), but Na'toth won me over very quickly. G'Kar is such a drama king, it's hilarious; but I mean, look at all of the Narn! Ok, lol, the Centauri aren't far from that and neither are the Minbari. Londo's inner nature is a feast table; sounds about right!

We finally get to meet Lennier, about whom I know only a meme that goes "If you want to kill me, please do it quickly, I've got tons of work"? Seems to check out? Lennier quickly goes into Delenn's steel grip ("Look up. I don't need an aide who will be forever walking into things." - not an exact quote, but man, is this a good Delenn line!) and goes quiet. FOR NOW. Me to my friend: "of the ambassadors, is it only Delenn that does not sleep with literally everyone on the station?" Him: "Well, Strazhinsky is a big Tolkien fan. And specifically Delenn is Luthien." Me: wat. I guess we'll have to wait and see? There's another name I vaguely remember out of context: John Sheridan or something? Sinclair's story line is just "no ex-wives are contained within it: the TV show." It gave me Disco Elysium vibes, which explains the dialogue. :P The assassin with his bookkeeper glasses! Comedy gold! And so is Na'toth just beating the crap out of the idiot she's been trying to protect, and enjoying it more than a little. Also, I hear you folks (B5 team) also got an Emmy for the makeup in this episode? "Also" as in "the Emmy team sure does like their lizards, huh? Narn, are you the grown-up salamander babies from VOY?" The two giddy Narn as they ferry the assassin out are glorious. Those two look like kids who got their hands on A PILE of ice cream. :P "Have a pleasant flight!" Minbari "jokes" about accidentally marrying people are indeed very elvish. :P I was honestly thinking Sinclair was going to do a showcasing of space exploration as humanity's dream. But no, we go into theology instead (starting with atheism, ha). There are a lot of things wrong with the line - for some reason it assumes the religions are the same as in contemporaneity, etc - but it legit surprised me.

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (19)

*How Dr. Gaul gave up on grooming Coryo to be her successor*

Felix: As your beloved Class President because of nepotism, we, the people must address the hottest issue of the day!

Iphigenia: And what is the issue,

Class Pres? Is it about our class fund? If it is, I’m innocent.

Felix: What was that?

Iphigenia: Nothing~.😗 I had nothing to do with that. *quickly hides her new lipstick*

Felix: Unfortunately, no. It’s not about our poor class fund.

Iphigenia: That’s great-

Felix: Which we will eventually address. So if anyone of you-

Gaius: Spit it out already, Class Pres! Me and Vipsania have yoga lessons today.

Felix: Fine! It’s about Snow!

Coryo: What about me?

Felix: Sejanus told me that Dr. Gaul is kinda (obviously) grooming you to accept her insane opinions or whatever.

Coryo: I don’t even like her! And to be honest, I really don’t care what she thinks!

Felix: We know. However, your super clingy boyfriend won’t stop nagging about it all week!

Sejanus: I wasn’t nagging! I was just-

Androcles: Yes, you were, Plinth.

Sejanus: I disagree.

Androcles: Yesterday, you even called Felix in the middle of the night and cried until dawn.

Sejanus: How did you even know about my secret phone calls?!

Androcles: I was there for a super secret sleepover.

Felix: Sleepover?! I didn’t- Andie, where exactly were you?!

Androcles: Under your bed.😌

Felix: What the heck, Andie! I told you not to sneak inside the Presidential Palace without my permission again!

Androcles: The President gave me permission.

Felix: My granduncle was asleep!

Androcles: He gave me permission in his dreams.😀

Felix: Anderson!

Coryo: I thought we were talking about Dr. Gaul?

Felix: Oh, yeah. Clemmie, please take the stage.

Clemensia: Thank you, Class Pres.

Urban: Hey! I thought it was my turn to-

Clemensia: Coryo, that woman is crazy, insane, unhinged, and inhumane! Have you seen her lab with the little colorful snakeys?!

Coryo: Ugh! Fine! I get it! But what do you want me to do?!

Gaius: Ignore her?

Coryo: I’m freaking scared of that woman! I might even be punished if I accidentally offend her!😭

Androcles: Oh c’mon, bro! We have ✨Ravinstill Nepotism✨ on our side!

Coryo: True. But we are talking about crazy Dr. Gaul here-

Androcles: Besides, the school won’t let her experiment or kill us, right?

Livia: I’m pretty sure she won’t do it to me. However, as for the rest of you-

Apollo: To be fair, She doesn’t even like us.

Androcles: She won’t turn us into some poor helpless Avox or lizard creature, right?!

Juno: Oh, you sweet summer child.

Lysistrata: Well, maybe we can all play stupid? You know, act dumb when she questions us.

Felix: Yeah. Maybe that could work. She did say that she hates idiots like Festus and Sejanus.

Festus: Oh, thank Panem! I don’t need to act. I’m already dumb as a door nail!

Coryo: Me act dumb? How do I even do that?!

Io: Me too! I’m too smart to act like a dumb fool!

Urban: And She knows I’m a genius!

Coryo: Urban, to be fair, everyone in school knows you’re a genius.

Livia: Oh, please! You guys are already stupid in my book!💅

Dennis: We can always ask Festus and Sejanus.😌😉

Sejanus: I heard that!😠

Felix: Alright! Settle down! We can just agree to disagree. But as your beloved Class President, I command that all of us, especially Coryo and Urban to do their very best to rationally act dumb and intentional play stupid whenever Dr. Gaul is in our vicinity.

Everyone: *sighs* Yes, Mr. President Ravinstill.

*The next day, in Dr. Gaul’s class*

Dr.Gaul: So tell me, my extra tribu- I mean, Mentors. What does Panem need in order to survive?

Everyone: *Is silent AF*

Dr.Gaul: Don’t be shy now. I know you guys are usually loud and annoying.

Everyone: *sweats profusely*

Dr.Gaul: *sighs* Do I have to give a hint for you to answer? Very well, I’ll be merciful today. It starts with letter “C”~.😌💅

Juno: *raises hand* Children! Panem needs more children to survive!

Dr.Gaul: No, Ms. Phipps. That is incorrect.

Juno: But-

Dr.Gaul: Pet, put your hand down. Anyone else would like to guess?

Florus: Kindness? Is it kindness?! That starts with letter “C”, right?

Dr.Gaul: Mr. Friend, did you accidentally hit your head multiple times before entering my class?

Florus: No-

Dr.Gaul: Then shut up.

Felix: Is it Courage?!

Lysistrata: Charity!

Diana: Connection!

Apollo: Communication?!

Urban: Care?!

Io: Charisma!

Livia: ✨Cats✨💅!

Vipsania: Community!

Iphigenia: Cuteness!

Dr.Gaul: One at a time, children! ONE AT A TIME!

Festus: Ah-ha! I get it now! Panem needs more color and creativity!

Dr.Gaul: Mr. Creed, are you a clown?! And Ms. Moss, how could f*ckin’ “cuteness” be your answer?!

Iphigenia: *nervously smiles* It technically starts with a-

Dr.Gaul: Get out, Ms. Moss.

Sejanus: *raises hand*

Dr.Gaul: No. Not you, Mr. Plinth.

Sejanus: Why?!😫

Festus: Can I-

Dr.Gaul: Anyone not named Plinth or Creed would like to answer?

Coryo: *nervously raises hand*

Dr.Gaul: Finally! Someone with a brain! Give us the true answer, Mr. Snow!

Coryo: ✨Cuddles✨! Panem needs more cuddles in order to survive.

Dr.Gaul: That’s right- NO! That’s f*ckin’ wrong, you fool!

Coryo: But cuddles-

Dr.Gaul: I’m giving everyone a f*ckin’ demerit! This mentorship is a waste of my time!

Coryo: Is my answer correct though?

Dr.Gaul: Why did I even consider you?! You’re just a stupid orphan!

Vipsania: Wow. She really went there. Poor Snowy.

Dr.Gaul: And you’re also useless like your dead father!

Coryo: But-

Felix: Ah-ha! Is the correct answer chicken? Everybody loves chicken!

Dr.Gaul: Ugh!😩 Why am I even trying?! These kids are dumb as a door nail!

Felix: So it’s chicken, right?

Dr.Gaul: Just f*ckin’ get out of my classroom!

Festus: But the bell-

Dr.Gaul: Who wants to become an Avox today?👿🔪

Everyone: *quickly runs away*

Dr.Gaul: That’s what I thought, you stupid cowards!

[whispers-of-masser]

Just Tonight (Part I)

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz ✧ Pining idiots, angst, spicy ending; 6k+ words ✧ Mature content (17+), mentions of blood/injury, alcohol consumption & trauma coping via intoxication pls don't do this folks Nebarra's got issues ♫ "Just Tonight" - The Pretty Reckless ✒ Yall get the long version cause saints I am too tired to edit this any more (also the dwelling mentioned in this fic is based off the one from the Nexus mod "Environs - Kolskeggr" by Siberpunk.)

Nebarra was used to keeping watch. It was a habit, a skill, something he'd picked up during his time as a soldier. The reason? Anyone who didn't, died. Simple as that.

But these days, he found himself barely having to pay any attention at all. Travelling with you, his only enemies were bandits and undead, maybe the occasional creature of the wild with a poor sense of self-preservation. And all of them were as loud as they could possibly be, announcing their presence long before he could even see them.

It was boring.

On the one hand, he was certainly grateful that he no longer had the... concern... of an inglorious death by a knife in the dark, or poison in his soup, or a scorpion in his boot. But on the other, having the enemy constantly giving themselves away with their own idiocy and carelessness... it was almost demeaning to fight them. A true waste of his skills.

What he needed was a challenge. Something just the slightest bit interesting, an enemy worthy of him –

"What are you muttering about, now?" a familiar voice asked, and Nebarra spared a glance in its direction – of course, it was the lizard.

"That this wine is horrible." He gave the bottle in hand a lazy swirl, then set it down on the bar counter, leaning as far back on the stool as he could without falling. "As rich as the Silver-Bloods are supposed to be, they clearly skimp on their inn's liquor. Even Riften was better than this!"

Xelzaz gave him a flat stare. "Nebarra, you haven't had a single sip in the entire time you've been sitting here."

Nebarra pulled away, dramatically looking the Argonian over. "Xelzaz, have you been... watching me?"

"What a horrifying thought." He pointed one clawed finger at the bottle. "No – I just happen to have eyes, and can still see the unbroken seal around the cork."

"Ah. That." Nebarra fumbled for an excuse. "I had some of their wine last night."

"I'm sure you did," Xelzaz deadpanned. "So, what is it this time? What's bothering you?"

Nebarra scowled from behind his helmet. "Who says anything is bothering me?"

"...You really have a problem with being in denial, you know that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about."

The lizard quirked a scaly brow. "Ironic, much?"

From behind his helmet, Nebarra gave him a pointless scowl. "Why are you bothering me? Where's the little scale-skin?"

"Khash," Xelzaz corrected him. "I would appreciate it if you started using her name – and so would she. At this moment, however, she is taking a nap in our room."

"How quaint. You didn't answer my question, though."

"Nor did you agree to use her name."

"Fine, fine, Khash. Now, why are you here again?"

Xelzaz's jaws parted, but before he could answer, your voice suddenly drifted over to the pair.

"What are you two arguing about this time?"

Nebarra turned to see you walking towards them, the inn doors swinging slowly shut behind you. In the moments before they closed, however, the brilliant light of dawn was at your back, wreathing you in in an aura of gold so brilliant, Auri-El himself would envy it.

...Since when was he so poetic?

"I can assure you," Xelzaz said as you approached, "that we are merely having a discussion."

"Uh-huh." Your gaze swept between the two, and as it landed on him, Nebarra could have sworn something flashed in it. Something... lingering...

Then it was gone, and he knew, just knew, he'd been seeing things.

"Right, well, I have something else for us all to discuss." You slid onto a barstool beside Nebarra, dropping your pack to the floor; it hit the stone with an impossibly loud crashing and banging, and even Xelzaz cringed at the sound.

Gods, just what did you have in there?

"Do try and mind the potions," Xelzaz cautioned, motioning to the pack. "My ingredients for those aren't limitless, you know."

"Ah, sorry Xel – I forget half the stuff I have in there, honestly." You reached out, grabbed a wine bottle – Nebarra's wine bottle – and popped the cork, taking a swig straight from the glass.

"Hey! That was mine!"

"Tough." Yet, despite your snark, you reached for one of the coin pouches hanging from your belt, fishing something out and tossing it at him. "Here's your money back, at least."

Nebarra caught it easily, something metallic hitting his gauntlet with a dull clang. When he looked down, though... "This is a ring." A simple silver band, fine etchings engraved on it – Redguard etchings. "Take it back. I don't want it."

"Hm?" You glanced aside at him, and for just a moment, your expression seemed to freeze at the sight of the ring. Quickly, you snatched it back up, stuffing it into a different pouch. "Ah. That – that's from Margaret. As thanks for saving her when we arrived last night. Must've... put it in with the coins by accident. Here–"

"Keep your gold," Nebarra sighed, turning away – and locked eyes with Xelzaz, a knowing look in the lizard's eye.

From the shadows of his helmet, Nebarra made a rude face at him.

"Suit yourself," you shrugged, and when Nebarra looked back at you, he could see a flush against your cheeks.

...Probably just the wine.

"So, my friend," Xelzaz said, "now that you have sated your thirst, what is it you wanted to discuss?"

"Ah." You took one more swig before setting the bottle down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I found some work for us." You jerked your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing back towards the inn door. "There's some miners just outside the city – a couple of them weren't originally stationed here, but someplace called... Kolseg, or something. Kolskyr? Can't remember. Anyway, some Forsworn ransacked the place and drove them here, and they're willing to pay good money to reclaim the mine – and a bonus if we clear out the nearby cave they came from."

"Ah," Xelzaz nodded. "I believe that would be Kolskeggr mine, and possibly Blind Cliff Cave – I recall seeing them on my map."

"Right – that's them. The miners made it out to be a large group of Forsworn that invaded, but..." The words trailed off, and you shrugged, doubt painted across your face. "I get the feeling it may not be. Not to us, at least. I asked around, and the mine isn't especially large – no deep tunnels or twisting passages. I doubt it could fit enough Forsworn to give us any real trouble. As for the cave, we can just scout it out to start off with and take things from there."

Nebarra heaved a sigh. "Another boring job... Well, it's better than sitting around here all day. I'm in."

You nodded at him, and again, he could swear your gaze seemed to linger for a moment.

...His armour probably needed polishing. That must've been why you kept staring, surely. It couldn't possibly be for anything other reason. No matter how much... he may have wanted it to be...

"Hm." Xelzaz shifted his weight from one clawed foot to another, seeming to consider something. Glanced between you and Nebarra, a look in his eyes the Altmer wasn't sure he liked. Then, "If it's that straightforward, I think I might as well stay behind. Three people in such a small mine, not to mention the Forsworn occupiers... things might be a bit cramped. Also, Khash is still sleeping, and while I'd rather not wake her, neither do I want to simply leave her alone while we're off doing the Jarl's work for him."

You snickered at that, reaching for another sip of wine. "No kidding. I'm... amazed at how ineffectual so many of these Jarls are. Also, wait – Khash is still sleeping?" At Xelzaz's nod, you winced, glancing over toward the rooms with brows furrowed in concern. "I guess she was more tired than I realised... I should have been paying better attention, damnit."

"She is quite hardy," Xelzaz assured you, moving his hands in a soothing motion, "and as healthy as ever. It is easy to forget sometimes that, though she is strong for her age, she is not yet an adult and does not possess our endurance. But with a little more rest, she will be fine – we'll simply have to keep a closer eye on her in the future."

"Wait, so, does all of that mean you lizards won't be coming with us?" Nebarra demanded. Normally, he'd be perfectly happy about that, but... there was something in Xelzaz's expression that set off alarm bells in his head. But why?

"That is correct. You two will be... on you own. Alone. Together."

...Oh. Oh, that sneaky, scheming lizard.

Nebarra risked a glance at you, and to his relief, you hadn't seemed to notice; you were too invested in finding the bottom of the bottle. That, or you were simply ignoring it. The thought of it being the latter... prickled, for some reason.

"Well then," you said, setting down the now-empty bottle, grabbing your pack off the floor, and walking determinedly towards the doors, "shall we go? I wanna get my hands on some gold."

Under his breath, Xelzaz muttered, just loud enough for Nebarra to hear, "Nebarra's gold."

It took all of the Altmer's restraint not to smack him upside the head right then and there.

~~~

You had been right – Kolskeggr mine was cramped, the tunnels narrow to the point that Nebarra was relegated to walking behind you. Not that he minded, particularly. It gave him the opportunity to... appreciate the view. Not that he'd ever admit it.

...Not even to himself.

And then there was the fighting. Brief and boring, despite the infamous Briar-Heart among the Forsworn's ranks. It was, admittedly, the last one standing, so obviously it had something going for it compared to the rest – but not enough.

Nebarra watched with perverse satisfaction as you ripped the briar heart itself from the enemy's open chest; they were dead before they even hit the floor.

He sniffed in disdain. Honestly, how stupid could one be, leaving their heart open and exposed, not even a single piece of armour to protect it?

"I think we're done here." Your voice resonated in the cavern, low and rich, and as your head turned towards Nebarra – he froze.

...Captivating.

It was all he could think as he stared at you, a smile on your face, savage and wild, teeth flashing in the dark. Blood stained your armour, coated your sword, dripped from your fist and the briar heart still clutched in it. As firelight and shadows danced across your form, it was as though your presence alone was enough to breathe life into them. And your eyes... oh, your eyes.

They blazed with ferocity, the fervour of battle not yet faded, boring into him as though you could see his very soul. Under the intensity of your stare, he felt exposed, stripped bare before you; he could barely breathe, barely think.

Was this what your enemies saw in their last moments, before you sliced open their throats? In their last breaths, did they feel what he did, right now?

...What did he feel?

He didn't have words for it. Refused to have words for it. To put his feelings into words was to acknowledge them, make things real.

No, it was better to leave things as they were – threads of gossamer, intangible, unknown. It was better that way for you both. Not that he cared about... making things easier for you... Not at all. But... maybe he wanted to –

"Nebarra?"

He flinched, your voice drawing him back to the present, grounding him once more to reality. "What?" he managed, his voice a rasp.

Your gaze flickered, and you took a small step towards him.

He forced himself not to pull away, not to give away his weakness – you. You, you, you.

Was this what Xelzaz had had in mind when he sent the two of you off alone together? Damn meddling lizard...

As you took another step, your arm began to raise, reaching out towards him – then stopped, and fell limp at your side.

Your lips parted, and something gripped Nebarra's chest – something he didn't know, didn't know, didn't know.

"I–"

A sudden creaking and groaning swallowed the rest of your words, the support beams of the mine agonizing over the weight of the mountain. Nebarra wasn't sure whether to curse, or be relieved.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"...Nothing. Nevermind." You glanced away, down at your sword, at the blood still dripping from it. "Ah... messy." Kneeling down, you yanked a rabbit pelt from one of the fallen Forsworn, wiping your blade with it. "Well," you said, clearing your throat, "I think we should be alright to head to that Forsworn cave, now. After this–" You motioned vaguely at the carnage the two of you had caused "–I don't think we'll have much trouble, except maybe in a difference in numbers."

"So just snipe them," Nebarra suggested with a shrug, pointing at your bow and trying not to give away... anything he'd just been thinking, feeling. "By the time the rest catch on, it'll be too late, and they'll be dead."

You flashed him another grin, his heart constricting at the sight – gods, what were you doing to him? – and laughed, "But where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is in the knowledge that you survived and the enemy did not, regardless of the method. Although... maybe not poison."

Again, you laughed, the sound bright and clear as a river. "I'll be sure to tell Xelzaz you said that."

"Well then, If I wake up dead tomorrow morning, I'll know just who to haunt."

Rising to your feet and sheathing your blade, a curious expression on your face, you asked, "Who, then? The snitch, or the killer?"

"You. Just... just you." The words escaped before Nebarra could stop them, and he suddenly found himself wishing he couldn't talk at all.

"Didn't get enough of me, yet?"

No.

That, at least, he managed to keep to himself. "...Can we get going?"

And so the two of you did, confident in the ease of the next few battles.

But neither you, nor Nebarra, had counted on hagravens.

And Nebarra most definitely hadn't counted on the Reachmen he'd just killed – the one he thought he'd killed, could have sworn he'd killed – suddenly getting up, barrelling past him, and sending a spear of ice straight towards you.

You never saw it coming, too intent on one of the hagravens.

And Nebarra... he wasn't fast enough.

He was never fast enough.

You dropped to one knee with a cry, shield clattering to the floor, and memories blurred with reality as Nebarra charged forward, desperate to stop the past from recurring.

He couldn't write another letter for the dead. Never even finished the first.

But you weren't Camia. You had the favour of the gods, and ancient dragon souls within your own, or however that nonsense worked. You... you wouldn't die so easily. You couldn't.

And you didn't.

Even as he ran towards you, he saw your mouth open, your throat constrict, your chest rise –

"Fus Ro Dah!" The words ripped through the air, louder and deeper than ever in the stone cavern, tinged with a draconic roar – and the faintest trace of panic, a remnant of the human within the Dragonborn. The Forsworn was sent flying, and with your free hand, you sent a firebolt searing towards them as well – overkill, maybe, but you clearly weren't taking any chances.

And as the furs on their body burned away, Nebarra could see it – the gaping hole in their chest, the briar heart within shriveling away in flames. Suddenly, his words from earlier rang through his ears, loud and mocking: "How stupid could one be, leaving their heart open and exposed, not even a single piece of armour to protect it?"

Damn you, Cor...

The body crashed against the wall, dropping like a rock to the floor, and the hagraven behind you staggered away in shock – Nebarra could see the fear painted on its face plain as day.

And when you suddenly pitched forward, face-down on the stone, that same fear seized him as well.

The next few moments were a blur; he was between you and the enemy hagraven, a ward raised with one hand, his sword flaming in the other. The second hagraven – their tenuous ally, and guide through the damned place, all for the sake of reclaiming it for herself – clawed and scratched the other between blasts of magic. And, at last, she fell with a screech, until she moved no more.

As Nebarra let the ward fall, he gripped his blade with two hands and brought it sailing down on her neck – he wasn't taking any chances. Not again. Not ever again.

As the hideous, black-feathered head rolled away, the remaining hagraven cackled in delight. "Yes, yes, Petra gone...! What good meat, good nibbles you are..." She cocked her head to where you lay, gasping on the floor, red staining the surrounding stone. "Your friend, shiny one... maybe leave your friend, yes, yes? I make... pretty, pretty eyeballs from–"

Nebarra's arm shot out and the monster's words ended in a croak, her head falling one way, her body, another.

And in the newfound silence, he turned towards you, dropping to his knees at your side. "Here," he said, fumbling with his satchel, pulling out a healing potion and shoving it to your lips. "Drink. Now."

Your eyes were glazed, swimming with pain, but somehow you still managed to smile at him, teeth painted red. "Wow, Nebs... 's almost... like you care."

"Shut up and drink," he growled, and though his hands didn't shake, something else in him felt unsteady, off-balance. The fight had been... too close. Too close to his memories, his past. Something in him had been scraped raw by it, salt on an old wound, sending cracks though his defences, a bitter sense of helplessness churning in his gut.

Even when you choked down the potion, some of the precious liquid spilling down your chin, a sense of urgency, anxiety, still gnawed at him. The potion would dull some of the pain, begin the clotting process, but you still needed more – real medical attention, the kind he couldn't give.

But first... first, he had to get you out of here. "Can you stand? Walk?"

In response, you braced your arms, pushed yourself off the floor – and promptly collapsed, your own legs betraying you; Nebarra lunged forward to catch you just before you hit the floor. "That's a no," he grumbled.

"Just – just give me a minute," you gasped, staring up at him from his arms. Your eyes weren't focusing; Nebarra wondered if you could even see him at all. "Stamina... stamina potion... in my bag. And some... other stuff. Should help."

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Nebarra reached for your pack, catching it by one of the straps and dragging in over; the whole bottom and side were soaked with crimson. He found the potions, though, blessedly intact.

Why hadn't he just searched through your bag in the first place? Why had he given you one of his own?

Not the issue, he thought. Very much not the issue. Your eyes were closing – you needed to keep them open, to stay awake, to drink.

"Hey. Hey," he snapped, giving your cheek as hard a pinch as he dared; your eyelids fluttered in response, but he couldn't see your irises – only white. Not good.

Unable – unwilling – to let you go, he grabbed a bottle with his free hand and fumbled to pop the cork with his thumb. It took him a few seconds – a few seconds too long, a few seconds neither of you could spare – but at last, he got it, and emptied it down your throat. You coughed and spluttered, but managed to down most of it – Nebarra wasn't even sure what kind of potion it was, the surrounding torch lights too dim to tell the colour of the bottle.

As your breath steadied, though, he guessed it had been a healing elixir – thank goodness it wasn't magicka. He groped for another bottle, hoping his potion-picking luck would last.

For the next few minutes, Nebarra did his best to coax potion after potion down your throat, until finally you gagged and would take no more. "I'm fine," you choked out, blearily shaking your head.

"You look like a skeever's nest," he snapped back. "But I filled you up on these damn things, so tell me you can at least walk now."

"I can walk."

"Good. Let's go." And as he helped you to your feet, he allowed himself a single, quiet sigh of relief. You were okay... for now.

~~~

The Mother's weeping. It was all Nebarra could think as he stumbled up the road, rain drumming on his armour, your limp body in his arms. Despite your insistence that you were fine, the trek back down the tower in pouring rain and navigating the cave had been too much for you. He had nearly had a heart attack when you collapsed mere steps away from the road, head hitting the stones with an audible crack.

There hadn't been any blood, at least. He just hoped that didn't mean the injury was internal, and that instead, it would be nothing more than a concussion and a bump on the head.

"You have a thick skull," Nebarra muttered to himself, glancing down at you. "You'll be alright."

As if to mock him, an ominous roll of thunder chose right then to shake the crying skies.

The gods were laughing at him, weren't they? There he was, a former Altmer soldier, a veteran of the Great War, trying to save the life of the gods' latest pet project: the Dragonborn.

Did they even care about you, the real you, the human behind the title? Was this all just some game to them, uprooting the life of any old mortal and making them a pawn, a scapegoat, a vessel for powers beyond belief? And if so, where did he fit into all of it?

...He didn't. No matter how many times he thought about it, how many different ways he tried to reason it out, there was no real place for him at your side. Although... he supposed he was saving your life, right now. Maybe. Hopefully.

Such an act was worth at least one line in the annals of history, right?

"During the Dragonborn's many early adventures, one in the Reach proved particularly dangerous, and they had to be rescued by one of their companions, a former Altmer soldier..." Something like that, perhaps. Or maybe even less. Not that he cared one way or another, really. Because, again, he had no place in history. Not in your story, not at your side, not on your mind... and not in your heart.

Nebarra stumbled, slipping on the wet stones and falling to one knee. He felt no pain, though, too shocked at his own thoughts.

Your heart? Your heart? Was that... truly what he wanted?

No. Impossible. He wasn't thinking straight. He was tired, emotions raw, mind jumbled. He... he didn't want you. He didn't.

He couldn't.

With a grunt, Nebarra forced himself to his feet once more, glancing at your face. Rivulets of water poured from it, streaking down your cheeks like tears, following the curve toward your nose, coursing down your lips... your... lips...

He nearly stumbled again; he wrenched his eyes away from you and glared at the road instead.

Damn this endless road.

He couldn't keep going like this. He was out of stamina potions, so were you, and Markarth was still so far away, the rain still pouring. But there was nowhere to stop, take shelter, and you needed proper medical attention.

And as a streak of lightning illuminated the world, revealing a building at the crest of the road, Nebarra just knew the gods were toying with him.

With the last of his strength, limbs aching, lungs burning, he brought you to the structure. Upon a closer look, it was familiar – the abandoned houses of the miners from Kolskeggr, the mine itself just behind. The bodies of the Forsworn you and he had killed earlier in the day still lay scattered about, the rain mingling with their blood and painting the road red.

Stomping past the dead, Nebarra went for the larger of the two structures and rammed the door with his shoulder; it burst open with a scream of its hinges. Arms shaking, he made his way towards the bed and set you down as carefully as he could; the last thing he needed was your wound opening up again.

As soon as you were free of his embrace, his legs gave way, and he crumpled at your bedside, armour clattering and banging around him. He groaned; by morning, the soreness would arrive with a vengeance. He had no idea how he'd make it to Markarth, then; his Restoration skills weren't that good.

He'd just have to manage, somehow. He always did.

But for now, he needed to rest. He'd done all he could for you, saving your damn life, carrying you this far, and finding a safe place to stay for a while. He could... rest now... just for a bit... just... a...

~~~

It was the cold that woke Nebarra – the cold, and the searing, aching, burning of his whole gods-damned body. He groaned, the sound cracking and painful in his dry throat. Forcing his eyes open, he stared at his surroundings, trying to take it all in, recall where he was, why he was on the floor, what was happening... and his eyes landed on you.

...Ah. Right.

Rising slowly, grimacing at the pain, he fumbled with his satchel, pulling out a scroll of Candlelight, its runes glowing faintly in the dark. Ripping the paper in two, an orb of cold blue light blazed to life overhead – he winced as the light burned his eyes, squinting through his helm. At last though, his sight adjusted, and he bent over to check on you.

You lay still, silent, almost... peaceful, bathed in the pale blue light. It was as though you were merely sleeping, not unconscious from injury and exhaustion.

Nebarra hesitated for a moment, then tugged off a gauntlet, resting his hand against your forehead.

Good – no fever. You were warm, yes – certainly warmer than he felt at the moment – but not to the point of concern.

A sigh of relief escaped him, even as something sour churned in his stomach.

Why did he care so much, anyway?

"This is just... so we're equal now," he mumbled to you, even as he brushed his thumb across your furrowed brow, smoothing it gently. "You saved my life, so now I'm saving yours. That's – that's all there is to it."

He definitely wasn't being influenced by something like personal feelings. Not in the slightest. Not for you, and not for what happened to Ca–

He cut the thought short. He really, really needed to stop drawing comparisons between the two of you.

But today, just like that day... it had been his fault. He hadn't been prepared, hadn't seen the enemy coming, and his negligence had nearly cost your life.

Just like Camia.

Only... she had died.

Nebarra couldn't go through that again. He couldn't bear to watch another fall because of his own shortcomings, and those moments when you collapsed – inside the tower, alongside the road – something had gripped him, a primal, visceral fear that he couldn't explain. Because even when Camia fell, crumpling before his eyes, this feeling hadn't been there – only the numbness of shock, giving way slowly to anger, anger at her killer, and anger at himself. But with you... something was different, so very different.

What were you doing to him?

...No, he already knew the answer to that. Gods, even Xelzaz knew – a truly horrifying thought. But Nebarra... he'd been turning away from the truth, just as a madman tries to hide from the desert sun.

And he wasn't sure how much longer he could do it.

A soft puff sounded overhead, the Candlelight spell's time run out, and the Altmer was plunged back into darkness. Quietly, he turned his back towards you and sank to the floor once more, legs stretching out before him, gauntlet resting on his lap. He wasn't as tired as he had been earlier, when he first brought you in from the rain, nor did his body ache to the same degree, but something else in him felt... raw, wounded.

He wished it would just go away. That he would see you as he first had, that day by the burning caravan: just another slek who'd happened to be at the right place at the right time and willing to spare him a healing potion. If he'd still felt that way, then maybe things wouldn't be so difficult for him now.

And yet... and yet...

Nebarra shook the thoughts away – they were giving him a headache, and if he was being honest, maybe his heart hurt a little, too. But... especially a headache. And his helmet wasn't helping.

He glanced at you, still unconscious, unmoving. Then, slowly, reached up – and removed his helm.

And promptly winced, his bangs snagging on the eyeslit. He really needed a haircut. Maybe he should just... borrow a dagger from you or Xelzaz, chop it off himself – his sword was too big, too unwieldy for such delicate work, and he might slice a finger instead of his hair.

With a faint huff, he ran his hand through the tangled locks, letting his head tilt back until nothing but the ceiling filled his view. It was... strange, feeling the air on his face again, but refreshing.

At least, as refreshing as it could be, covered as he was in dried sweat and blood and rainwater. Forget a haircut, he needed a bath.

Hadn't he seen a handpump outside? It was likely to be cold – everything in Skyrim was cold – but the water was probably drawn from the river nearby, and its had seemed clean enough. It would have to do, he supposed.

Glancing once more at you, ensuring you were still asleep, Nebarra rose quietly to his feet and made his way outside, careful not to let the door slam behind him.

The night air was brisk and cold, nipping at his exposed face and hand like a dozen tiny ice wraiths. He paid it no mind as he began shedding his armour, resting it against the porch railing piece by piece, until he was left in nothing but a shirt and trousers. After a moment's pause, he pulled them off as well, then made his way to the water pump.

As expected, the water was freezing. Just splashing his palm seemed to turn his veins to ice, goosebumps forming all across his skin. But it was either that, or stay coated in muck for another eight, twelve, maybe even twenty hours.

...Frigid water, it was.

By the time he finished, he felt more like an icicle than an Altmer, but at least he was clean. Retreating back to the porch, he dried himself off with his shirt, laid it out over the railing to dry, and finally tugged his trousers back on – his nether regions had not appreciated the cold.

Nebarra glanced through the window, towards where he knew you lay.

Were you cold, too? He'd thought your temperature was fine, but... he should have at least thrown a blanket over you, just in case. What if you got sick?

Before he knew it, he found himself by your bedside once more, shaking out a blanket and draping it carefully over you.

He tried to tell himself it meant nothing – that he was just doing a decent thing, being a decent person, trying to keep you healthy and safe.

But... he wasn't a decent person. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done something decent for anyone.

So why you?

I don't know, he lied, turning away. I don't know. I don't–

A soft clatter – his foot had knocked against something. Nebarra paused, thoughts of denial interrupted as he looked down. He found himself staring at a wine bottle, still full of the dark liquid, half-hidden under the bed.

...Oho.

Nebarra dropped into a crouch, intending to snag the bottle out from under the bedframe – but there, pushed further in, his eyes caught on an an even greater treasure: an entire crate-full of wine bottles.

The gods had a sense of humour.

Fishing the crate and stray bottle out, Nebarra carted them outside to the porch, popped the cork on one, and set to work.

No more thinking for him, tonight. No more confusing feeling for him, tonight. Just wine, and the gods that surely were watching from above.

He fingertips tingled by the third bottle; he was tipsy by the fourth. Drunk by the sixth. And on the eight –

"...Nebarra?"

Your voice, behind him. Soft, disbelieving, rasping. Filling him with a warmth so very different, distinct from the heat of the wine. His head snapped around – and in the moonlight, your eyes widened. Lips parted, teeth flashing. A breathy laugh escaped.

"Oh. I'm... dreaming."

"What makes you say that?" he mumbled, and you pointed at his face.

"Your helmet. It's gone."

He froze. Glanced across the porch. His helmet hung on the edge of the railing, shining, mocking.

As a dozen expletives ran through his mind, you said softly, "Funny. Even dreaming... I still can't see your face."

Nebarra frowned, wondering why, how – ah. Turned as he was, the moon was behind him, the clouds further shrouding its light. You... probably couldn't see much more than his silhouette.

Relief. Disappointment. He wasn't sure which he felt more of.

You motioned vaguely at the wine. "Mind if I join you?"

"...Why not."

Wait. No, that wasn't right. He was supposed to have said no – he should have said no –

Unaware of his inner turmoil, you sat quietly down before him, tugging the crate nearer to you. As you did, he noticed most of your armour was gone – only your shirt and trousers remained. Had you removed it inside? How had he not heard the sound of the metal and leather? How drunk was he?

"How many have you had?" you asked, as though you could read his mind, eyeing the near-empty crate.

"...Not enough."

You let out a soft snort, reaching for a bottle and popping the cork. Nebarra watched as you brought it up to your lips... your... lips...

He jolted. "Wait – you shouldn't. You're – you're hurt."

In the darkness, he could just make out the gleam of your eyes as you stared at him. Then, a laugh bubbled free, slipping past your lips like a song. "Oh, oh – that's too funny." You rubbed your face with a free hand, wiping tears from your eyes. "Now I know I'm dreaming."

"What's so funny?" Nebarra demanded, and just as suddenly as it had come, your laughter ceased.

"You're worrying. About me."

Oh. You... had him there.

"Anyway," you continued, "even if this wasn't a dream, I doubt a few drinks will do more harm than Xelzaz can heal. Although he might yell at me for being stupid." You pointed towards him with the bottle, teasing, "I'll just tell him it's your fault."

"Go ahead." It was the truth, anyway. At least one of you could say it.

You didn't answer, but he saw your teeth flash a smile in the darkness.

And so, the two of you sat together in silence for some time, slowly draining bottle after bottle. By the time they all were emptied, you were wasted – and so was he.

It was the only way he could explain how the two of you had moved so much closer together, how you reached out and began playing with his fingers, how he didn't pull away from your touch.

How, slowly, you looked up, locked eyes with him, and brought your hand up to his face, gently tracing its curves. How he stupidly, greedily, leaned into your touch.

"Nebarra."

He'd never thought an insult could be said so gently, so tenderly. He... wanted you to say his name like that. His real name. He could almost hear it on your tongue, your lips –

Your... slowly approaching lips.

His breath caught. Something screamed warnings in his mind. But he wanted, wanted–

He put his hand to your shoulder, pushed you gently away. "...Don't." His voice cracked. He couldn't meet your gaze, couldn't bear to see the hurt he knew he'd just caused.

Coward.

For a moment, you were silent. Then, "I... I'm sorry. I'm not... I thought..." The porch creaked as you leaned back, away. "I think I should... wake up now. Maybe if I go back to bed..." A soft laugh escaped; there was no humour in it. "Funny. Going to sleep, in order to wake..."

As you rose, turning away, walking back into the house, Nebarra tried to tell himself it was for the best. Best for you, for him. In fact, it probably would have been better if you'd never met at all, if you'd never asked him to follow you, if he'd never agreed to. Although... he'd never have seen your smile, then. Never heard your laugh. Never heard you call his name – the insult he'd chosen for himself. Never... seen your eyes, full of passion and ferocity, or compassion and tenderness...

"Wait." The word slipped out before he could stop it; he found himself getting to his feet, stumbling into the house after you, catching your wrist. "I... Stay."

Just for one night. Just one. He could... he could have that much, couldn't he?

In the gloom, your eyes met his, shadowed with emotions that he couldn't even begin to describe. "This isn't really a dream, is it?"

"No," he confessed.

Wordlessly you reached up, stroked his cheek. "...Alright. I'll stay."

Nebarra worked his jaw; he wanted to say more, knew he shouldn't say more. But as his eyes roved across your face, settling on your lips, his thoughts muddled.

Gods damnit.

And so, before he could change his mind, think himself out of it, he reached out and cradled your face in his hand, fingers lacing through your hair. He could hear the soft hitch of your breath, but you didn't pull away.

Maybe you should have.

Even as he drew you closer, tilting your head towards his, you didn't resist. And when he paused, lips hoovering a hairsbreadth from yours –

– you closed the distance first.

Your lips burned; he tasted wine as he brushed his tongue across them. He tried to tell himself that was the only reason he deepened the kiss, greedy, hungering.

And even if it wasn't... it was just one kiss. Alcohol in both your systems. Bodies and minds exhausted from the long day... It would be fine, something to forget by morning.

So... just for tonight.

He rocked a step back, pulling you with him until his back hit the wall. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands tangling in his unkempt hair – and as you gave a gentle tug, a rush of pleasure surged through him, and he was never so glad he hadn't cut it.

Mind hazy, his hands moving almost on their own, they slid down and beneath your shirt; he could feel you quiver at the touch. He rubbed slow, gentle circles on your skin, moving gradually upward, inward, until his hands cupped your chest.

You gasped into the kiss, though it quickly became a moan as he brushed his thumbs across.

He'd never thought a sound could be so beautiful. Never thought he'd be the reason you'd make it. Never thought he'd want to hear it again so, so desperately.

Breaking away from the kiss, lips slick, panting heavily, he spun the two of you around so that it was your back was up against the wall. When he met your gaze, checking for permission, your eyes were dark, needy.

Divines, you were stunning.

"Go on," you mumbled, resting your forehead against his, your breaths mingling with his. "Don't... don't stop."

That was all he needed to hear.

...Just tonight.

The words echoed in his mind as clothes were shed, a silent mantra, a reminder to himself.

Just tonight, he thought, as your gasps and moans had him pulling you to the bed, pushing you down on it.

Just... tonight, he lied, as your body welcomed his, sheets tangling, bed creaking.

Just tonight.

And as white light bloomed behind his eyes, your body quivering with pleasure beneath him, his name on your lips, Nebarra knew – it was too late.

He was doomed.

[river-muse]

Wall-of-text comment, coming right up!

Okay I think I forgot to mention this before, but I love the Mundus powerscaling you've settled on, and the story of Vergil running away after dmc3!

I think the dmc3 novel or smth gave fans the impression that a 'rested' dmc3 single twin could have defeated Mundus, which, while truly tragic as so much trouble could have been avoided, I think it's also very underwhelming. I guess you upscaled Mundus even higher than dmc1 Dante (30-smth yo) + DS Sparda? Anyway, I really love this. Mundus is a very dangerous and tangible threat, and it's a great pressure point on the twins to figure out their bullshit faster.

And the story you've come up with for post-dmc3 Vergil is very true to him, or at least, I think it is very true for him. Vergil's been on the run from his issues for the last decade, and the ending of the last twin fight just showed him that...all that growth was still enough. His newly awakened little brother was able to defeat him, then what chance does he stand against Mundus? As painful as it looks, that defeat was be a significant blow to him, and Dante's attempts to help would not be able to remedy that, if anything they would only aggravate Vergil's wounds. So yeah, it makes total sense Vergil ran into the night one after that.

Birthday chapters commentary:

(regarding the notes at the beginning of the chapter - I Am Looking Forward To Seeing Your Older Nero)

My best guess is that Vergil was thinking of his 'hiding' habits and how they affected Nero, so, berating himself in front of his mom, before the beginning of the chapter. Then, Dante mentioning that Eva would be proud of Vergil's parenting (which she would) triggered him and he bolted.

Lemme just quickly say here that the frustration Dante feels when Vergil runs? So. Goddamn. Relatable. To. The. Reader.

Love the twins' strategy of constantly picking Nero up, adorable))) Also love that Nero came up to his uncle for the support there (I am weak for Uncle Dante), be clearly needed some support there to tell his dad. That entire scene is great and I love it. The moment Nero interprets Vergil leaving wrong is small but heartbreaking all the same.

The description of the uncle-nephew nap had me crackling in tears xDDD So accurate too!

The scene of Dante waking up automatically looking for a gun is another sneaky, yet powerful heartbreak. I guess he anticipated something like this before and started keeping his girls away when family visits occur? Also wonder why didn't Nero run and jump full speed on his newly-awakened uncle. Missed opportunity, birthday boy!

Twins almost starting another fight, but wrapping it and tossing it away just as quickly in front of Nero is definitely progress, and another prime example of 'forcing the dogs to lie'. Perfectly in sync, even if their actual opinion on the topic are opposites, and the question before them is in dire need of discussing.

Car space for legs being too short is just. Pure torture. All-too relatable, sadly. Poor bois, they did nothing to deserve this(

Nero&Dante teaming up in 'zebra is a horse' arguement is everything to me. Vergil was laughing at his favourite idiots, no doubt xD

My live reaction at little Nero trying to get Dante involved in zoo activities (follow your own advice for your brother, loser): 😭😭😭

Surprisingly accurate common zoo layout description! Very well done there.

"Lizards are not crying aside- [topic switch]" demons? Was that a Devil May Cry reference? What next, a fic Featuring Dante???

I love every single one animal interaction. Like, you could have easily glassed over those, they don't affect the plot or character interactions between each other. Yet, they are all so detailed and lively, I adore those. It's clear you've had a lot of experience with animals, OR your research is obsessively-crazy good. I bet both.

My live reaction at Nero holding hands with twins: 😭😭😭

"I can't Birthday Boy out of this one" - snorted out loud at this one xDDD I feel like the zebra debate is based on personal experience xD

UNCLE DANTE SHOULDER RIDE UNCLE DANTE SHOULDER RIDE UNCLE DANTE SHOULDER RIDE (Vergil absolutely got jealous, and it was his own fault)

Kyrie is a certified otter lover. Love Vergil's little queue to not bring her up and how quickly Dante adapts to his advice.

The plushie naming scene is precious.

Dante seeing that the gift for Nero is hand-wrapped by a clearly inexperienced Vergil is another sneaky little, but very powerful heartbreak. While Dante would make a truly awesome uncle, I also feel very strongly that he would be jealous of Nero. Dante was never enough for Vergil, but Nero had to just..appear and boom! almost-domesticated Vergil. (this is absolutely Dante's issues speaking and not what actually happened, I can also absolutely see the reverse of this happening - Nero being jealous of Dante's twin-telepathy with his father.

Vergil's little cake admission. OUCH. Bad Dante, you shouldn't deflect your closed-off brother's rare emotional moment, you should encourage those to happen more, Bad Dante, Bad.

Twins pool scene can solve all of reader's mental health problems, guaranteed. Precious. Soul-healing. Very touching.

(why was Vergil shaken after that shoulder pat?...my best guess is touch-starvation, but Nero should have been able to keep that one at bay I think...)

I'm enjoying this reread and note-taking very much)))

I GET TWO IN ONE DAY????? 👀

Ohhh you were CHEWING on this one I can see! For your guess on my knowledge of zoo layouts/animals- I grew up obsessively watching Animal Planet and have been to zoos and aquariums quite a lot before! I LOVE animals even if I don't have the skills/certifications/heart to work closely with them in a professional setting. When I was super little I'd been thinking about pursuing that as a career but set it down because I get way too attached to things. Besides my beloved massive american wirehair cat that roams my house like an overgrown baby I also keep a corn snake I've raised since he was younger than a month old.

Mundus! Yes! I wanted him to be an actual threat that's looming in the background of the narrative because let's be real that guy can create other demons wholesale on a whim and can- well- wait that's spoilers hold on I can't say that 💀 either way I wanted his presence to have actual weight to it rather than just seem like a little speedbump that the twins can take down without issue and have just been avoiding for no reason. He's got his own plans in motion that get hinted at in the narrative but not said outright. He's acting like a persistence predator in that respect. Strategically hunting at random points, cutting off escape routes, and keeping his quarry on edge so their capabilities diminish little by little until they get desperate and tired. :)

I'm not gonna lie I think you even picked up stuff in the narrative I HADN'T PLANNED but it all works so good!!! The case of the writer subconsciously pulling off genius narrative strikes again.

I'm in love with all of this I'm dipping you lowly(platonically) because while I'm going to keep being self-indulgent in this series until it's over it's so exciting to get interactions with it!! I spent a while worried that my method of situational characterization with this divergent AU would be off-putting to anyone else but you're proving me so wrong.

Also yes Older Nero in this AU is going to be fun! I have quite a lot of that content already written or planned. He grows up to have a very similar to canon personality with- a different flavor that you'll see as we progress in the series.

I have a fun question that doesn't need an answer, but is a little extra tidbit to think on because you've made my day:

If the official DMC team said once that Nero wouldn't be who he was without Kyrie- then what do you think Kyrie would be without Nero?

EDIT: No you know what I am NOT DONE TALKING!! I keep dwelling on how you noticed every single moment of action that reveal scars that haven't healed!! The one that still kills me is the description of how Vergil wrapped the gift because if it had been from his perspective we would have just seen him berating himself for not being able to do better but through Dante's eyes we see the MEANING behind the gesture and how significant it is.

Also the zebra argument was by far one of my best things and if I've had that hyper-specific argument before I don't remember but I have FEELINGS about it!

The pool scene. Oh, how soft it makes me feel. Writing it was such a nice breath of fresh air it makes my heart melt and was a sign that with time Vergil can heal and open back up to his family.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

@lirabuswavi and i had a lovely convo for the mystic misunderstanding au and I'm gonna post it in segments because they said it was okay!! I LOVE talking aus. Thank you bestie!! it'll take a moment to edit and post it all but yee.

in which hiccup being a runt would have made him revered in the hunter tribe and when they find out they start giving him offerings.

this post focuses on toothless!

L stands for them and H stands for me.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

L: Also, Entirely off topic, but the goddess Freya is the goddess of magic, and famously has a chariot pulled by giant cats. In your Mistaken Magic AU, if Hiccup compared Toothless to a giant cat, trying to get the hunters to be more chill, they could conclude that it's an emulation of the goddess Freya, and as such Toothless is an extension of his soothesaying. Entirely random thought, but I had it and wanted to share.

H: Love it. Cannon to the au now

Toothless now gets his own offerings

L: Unlike Hiccup, Toothless accepts the offerings easily. People start to use him as an intermediary for their offerings because A) Toothless pretty much always knows where Hiccup is, B) wouldn't let anything happen to his rider's stuff, C) is a very effective delivery dragon given how quickly he can fly, and D) Toothless will take the stuff and Hiccup won't have a chance to argue. On one hand, Hiccup is happy that people are getting more comfortable around Toothless and even interacting with him of their own free will. On the other, Hiccup has no clue what to do with this stuff, Toothless take it back! What do you mean you don't know who gave you what, you could sniff them out, you big, dumb lizard!

H: Yee. And along with the stuff he gets so many fishes. Toothless is happy to do the work and hiccup sets up an addition to his hut to store the items more nicely. He also asks viggo if he can set up a hut/shrine thing on Viggo's island.

L: Which would only give people a more accessible place to offer stuff, thereby giving him even more stuff that he doesn't know what to do with. Poor Hiccup.

H: Hiccup tries to figure out a polite way to make use of the stuff. He asks around if melting weapons to try and make other gear would be rude or if feeding the food to others would be improper. He turns to Viggo more often who only will answer during Maces and Talons games.

L: I can imagine Viggo kind of uses the Maces and Talons games to figure Hiccup out, in a, 'we've tried to kill you and your loved ones, and being polite is your concern? You've sunk our ships and blown up our ground based operations, and this is your problem?' way.

H: He concludes that whole hiccup is clever and smart, the kid is a little star-touched and needs someone watching his back. (Star touched politely means idiot/crazy)

L: Viggo's not afraid to make an ally out of an enemy if he can (and a brother out of him too, because it seems the only person watching out for him is the dragon. And while Viggo has been convinced of said dragon's personhood, and ability to protect Hiccup, Viggo has something Toothless doesn't have: opposable thumbs.)

H: He decides that he needs to win Toothless over and proceeds to work on that

L: They're a package deal. And while Hiccup can be persuaded by the plight of the common people and the opportunity to turn the Acumens away from dragon hunting, Toothless has a far narrower focus. Viggo can respect one's priority being 'him and his'.

H: Toothless likes Viggo feeding him and feeding hiccup. He even starts dragging hiccup to Viggo if he feels like hiccup is getting too lost in inventing and is losing weight again.

L: Hiccup is confused on why his dragon and former enemy are tag-teaming him to make sure he eats and sleeps, but if they're getting along it can't be a bad thing right? Viggo is pleased to know that the way to Toothless is through Hiccup. Before, he would have exploited it maliciously. Now, well... He knows what he wants.

H: Hehehehehehe

The village is thrilled to have hiccup here

L: Ah, but the other riders... not so much, muahaha.

[mask-of-prime]

VG: Speed Run

It was early in the morning. A certain rhino paced as he thought up his speech. He took a deep breath as he contemplated returning to the Pridelands. He was onto the next part of his plan... "Hey." The rhino in question sighed in annoyance before turning to the voice. He saw that it had been Mrembo, the monotone, hairy lion. "Any idea when our next mission will be? Dying to get something to eat." "No missions today!" the rhino then grimaced, "And you know how uncomfortable it makes me when you talk about the types of things you eat! Now, please! I've got a very important speech to make to a few friends." "Oooh! Can we come?!" Jeuri suddenly piped. "NO! Absolutely not!" the rhino roared, "I-I mean... why don't you try Flat Ridge Rock, I thought I spotted some nice big lizards there..." "Lizards? Again?" Mrembo sighed in annoyance, "Better than nothing, I guess." Jeuri rushed to the cave he and his made a home in. "Hey, Kiume, no missions today!" "Good," the older lion glared from the shadows, "I don't want anybody to see me like this..."

____ Later that morning... The cacophony of several impatient, angered, and hyped calls made by various ungulates and birds rang across Mizimu Grove. There, they awaited the return of a certain pachyderm they placed all of their trust in, especially as of late. The crowed turned to the sound of stomping. It had been their glorious leader, Ngurumo, surrounded by an intimidating, austere crash of elite rhinos guarding him. The crowd cheered in delight. The cheering, however, gradually ceased as Ngurumo gracefully held up a hoof, preparing his rallying speech. "My fellow prey... It seems every day I hear more and more about the violent nature of our oppressive leaders after my undeserved banishment! I understand that some of you, my dear, faithful bretheren, have been caught in some of these fights these barbaric creatures keep starting amongst themselves?" "YEAH!" a few notable supporters shouted. "Ngurumo? Sir? How are you receiving this news?" asked an inquisitive Oryx doe. "I'm glad you asked." the rhino smiled. "While I stood in the outskirts of the Pridelands, where I had been mercilessly ejected to by the very perpetrators of these attacks, I was only able to hear of the goings-on of the Pridelands from my trusted, loyal tickbird, Uongo!" The bird in question smirked cunningly as he flew into the scene, as if on cue. "Now Uongo, what was it you heard these lions say about us poor herbivores?" The tickbird, who possessed a drongo-like ability to mimic voices to an uncanny level, formed shapes with his mouth to recreate voices of a few lions: "Kupatana?! -- nobody cares about that holiday!" the bird cherrypicked in Vitani's voice. "We could've had them now, then it'd be over with!" he said in Shabaha's voice, completely out of context. "Just beat 'em black and blue like the usual deal." he then said in Vitani's voice once more, and once again devoid of the true context. The ruminants gasped, as did Ngurumo. "Such violence!" he said, "The King orders bloodthirsty huntresses -- not even from here -- to form his new Guard. Not only was it such a foolish thing to get rid of his old Guard -- one that had a hippo, by the way --, but he allowed his own enemies to keep us in check, and now they want to eat us all! Siding with anything so long as they're predators, and specifically lions at that!" The crowd of herd animals yelled in disgust. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't hire my own killers. What an idiot, that Simba is!" he cleared his throat, "But anywho, I hear a few brave animals, here, fought back at the Lion Guard, is that right?" Karani screamed loud for Ngurumo to hear, and the vicious hippo that hogged the watering hole -- who was currently concussed -- bellowed proudly. "Yes, heh." Ngurumo's chuckling face became a sympathetic frown, "I, too, am saddened by the senseless attacks made on some of you by these monsters for leaders. Especially around Kupatana! A day of supposed unity! These lions have morphed the very meaning of Kupatana. To them, it's their one day of the year where they gaslight us back into trusting them, in 'the spirit of the holiday'! Bah! I say we take inspiration from the bird and hippo, and fight back! I say we take back the true meaning of Kupatana -- what it meant to all of us since before these predators came about! The real origin of the holiday..." The animals listened intently. They supposed they didn't know the old meaning of the day due to being younger generations raised under the rule of carnivores. They trusted in Ngurumo, who seemed to have knowledge of the past. "In the Spirit of Kupatana, I shall hereby declare all the herds as one! Together, with my lead, we shall overthrow this so-called 'King of the Jungle.' For your loyalty, I promise tickbirds for everyone!" The united herd screamed joyously as the tickbirds made their way to them. A few members of the crowd -- especially Kutoba, the scrappy, short-tempered Oryx -- enthusiastically rooted for the war that would rage on the coming holiday. As the tickbirds became aqcuainted with their new partners, Ngurumo chuckled to himself, speaking in a low voice that most couldn't hear: "Such easy animals to please. Anything works on them -- OW!! Not so hard, Uongo..." The yellow-billed oxpecker glared slightly as he continued burrowing his beak into the rhino's hide. ____ Afternoon... "Oh, man... it's too quiet!" Shabaha lamented, "Where's the excitement? I'm LOSING it!" "Why are you wishing for something bad to happen?" Tazama squinted. Vitani ignored her Guard as she looked and listened still. Today's patrol, so far, had been rather uneventful. No herbivores screeching derogatory remarks, no rogues hunting and marking things that didn't belong to them, all was quiet for now. Peaceful as it was, for once, the Guard was still on-edge anyhow. Though it was only natural for the former members of Zira's pride to never trust a day going too well, silence was strange at a time like this. Vitani had identified this phantom sensation as something called an 'anxiety attack', courtesy of Kiara's education on healthy ways to deal with trauma. She, and all the members of the Lion Guard suffered these, especially after this recent series of intense, violent events. She'd pondered if maybe her anxiety was unwarranted today. Still feeling like she couldn't be too sure, she proposed an idea: "Kasi, why don't you make your usual rounds and scan the area? I'm still too achey to go too far." "You wanna bet I can cover more land within the same time as last time?" "I guess we have a little time for fun." Vitani smirked, "You got until sunset." "I'll be back before the sun touches the top of Mekundu Cliffs!" Kasi was off, "Time me!" The Guard smiled warmly and confidently as they watched the Fastest dash. After moments of silence and staring, Shabaha plopped down in the grass. "Soo... now what?" ____ Though Kasi was on a timed mission, she quickly took in her surroundings as she brushed by them. She had many parts of the Pridelands memorized, showing the remarkable amount of work and traveling the Lion Guard has done for about a year, now. Feeling adventurous, and ambitious, she let her paws take her to parts unknown. Before she knew it, she'd been far on a border if the Pridelands she hadn't seen before. Feeling the grass vanish and be replaced by dry, cracked land was a sign she'd essentially left the kingdom. She was exhilarated as she felt downhill gravity make her sprinting go even faster. A huge cloud of dust gathered beneath her paws, making her feel powerful. Bordering this dry wasteland was a forest that Kasi didn't know what territory it belonged to, be it the last bit of the Pridelands, or the beginning of the Backlands. Something caught her attention, she almost could've sworn a pair of eyes and a pointed face poked from the bushes of the forest. She came to a screeching halt. "Good, I was beginning to think you were never gonna slow down." "Kelele..." "In the flesh." grinned the wolf, "Pleasure seeing you again --" Kasi turned the other way. Growling, Kelele quickly stopped her. "Don't run." the wolf relaxed her pose, "I'm not your enemy..." Kasi backed away slowly. She saw that Kelele's tail had been singed slightly from Vitani's first ever use of the Fire Roar. "You have to believe me..." Kelele urged. "I dunno, I mean you literally kidnapped a puppy because you thought he had powers..." "And it's because of that, I cannot return to the Pridelands. I've got something I've been wanting to tell the Roar-wielder for a long time." "Alright. You can tell me, and I'll see if I want to deliver it to her." "Fair enough..." the wolf grinned again as she bowed her head, "While I have come to challenge the Roar, I don't plan to exterminate it. That's not what this is about. I wish to learn more about it, and bring that information back North, where I come from. There aren't very many of us left. I want to make my small pack proud by making history that will live on in paintings and legend." Kasi listened intently. She still had her doubts, given the fact that Kelele's story sounded a tad self-centered, and it didn't at all explain why she threatened Sauti's life over it. But, then... what would the real story be if she turned out to be lying about it all? The slender lioness continued to hear Kelele out, allowing her mind to open more. If it was all a lie, she could just warn Vitani. If it wasn't, maybe it was life-saving information for all parties. ____ Over a course of hours, Kasi settled beside Kelele. Their initial rocky start blossomed into similar things they bonded over, such as a shared competitiveness and snarky, dry humor. Though, speaking of competitiveness... The Fastest's eyes suddenly caught the change in color of the sky, she glanced back to see an orange sun about to set. It looked like it was much further below the top of Mekundu Cliffs, she feared. Maybe there was still just a bit of time left. "Oh, no... I really gotta go..." "That's too bad." Kelele perked up, "Hey!" "Yeah?" "If you don't tell Vitani the things I wanted to share with her, I understand." Kasi nodded. She was unsure if Kelele's self-awareness was out of modesty, or possibly manipulation. "Fastest way back is through the woods. Less steep this way. Safe travels." The slender lioness took the wolf's word for it, eventually finding her word to be true. She wondered, if Kelele was being genuine about the way back, were her intentions genuine, too? ____ Kasi watched as the sky fell into twilight. She cringed. She knew it was long past the time she'd promised everyone. Her sprint turned into a gradually-slowing scamper as she panted heavily. She saw the Guard all bonding. Shabaha was telling outrageous hypotheticals, resulting in some of the liveliest banter they've had in years. The leader of the Guard stood up as she saw Kasi on her way. "You're way late, Kasi!" Vitani balked, "Very uncharacteristic of you. What kept you, you make new friends along the way?" Kasi's panting slowed. A piercing question that happened to be. "Maybe..." She was still unsure of her judgment in Kelele. But she could save it for now, either way... ____ ((Author's Note: This is one of those episodes where I just started drawing and THEN worked a story around it. Kasi's a hard character to really figure out so I blanked out pretty bad on her story for a good while. After all these years of trying to figure her out, I finally reached a rather meta final idea: She's supposed to be an enigma. She's blunt and comes off mysterious, but is passionate and experimental, trying all sort of crafts and adventures. Her adventurous, risk-taking side is explored here as she daringly explores niche parts of the Pridelands. I also really projected my struggle of constantly not being on time, especially times I promise/estimate to people. Fun Fact: I actually worked Kelele into this story because I'd originally planned an episode where she would find Vitani alone and try to learn more about her, but then I started getting that idea to explore the other Guard members, so I revived most of the concept and made Kasi the one who ends up stuck with Kelele. Another Fun Fact: Ngurumo's campaign scene (which would totally be a musical number) was originally set to take place in the original concept of Moral Eyes, which was originally gonna fully revolve around Kupatana since Tazama and Jeuri's bond symbolized unity and peace. Kupatana will be even more significant later Yet another Fun Fact: It's believed that tickbirds and herd animals actually do not have a mutual relationship in which the birds feed on parasites off the backs of the mammals, but rather that the tickbird is a parasite, itself, as it feeds on more than just ticks; it apparently deliberately cuts the skin of the mammals they're eating off of in order to suck their blood. We'll see how well that relationship between Ngurumo and Uongo/the herbivores and other tickbirds goes lol Lastly, to make things relevant to Pride Month despite it not being too obvious in the story, my headcanon for Kasi is that she's Panromantic/Asexual. She may or may not find a love, but that doesn't take away her attraction to others. People with romantic attraction but no actual romance going on: Y'all valid [insert "Well, of course I know him, he's me" meme here]))

[aonoou]

Orter Madl HC part 9

parts 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 here

Ryoh suddenly arrived at the scene and was looking for his fellow visionary. Wirth wants to encase everyone in his mud and murder his stupid brother, 008 wants some tea of what was happening inside the room. While Orter and the lady were just being themselves.

Chapter 9 - Goodbye, Ursla

The head of the Magic Security Force and the Light Cane, Ryoh Grantz, arrived at the scene.

"GET LOST!!!" Wirth screamed at the Light Cane in his head.

Ryoh felt that there were people on the second floor so he immediately headed up and saw both Wirth and 008 standing in front of the door.

One look at Wirth's worried face made the Light Cane think something bad had occurred. And it was very unusual that the Desert Cane was nowhere to be seen.

He thought the worst and walked briskly toward Wirth. He felt his fellow Divine Visionary's aura behind the door, but Wirth is currently blocking it. He also felt another aura inside.

He tried to confirm with the younger Madl whether Orter was inside the room. 008 was the one who spoke up and confirmed, stating, "According to Wirth-sama, Orter-sama is tending to someone's wound at the moment." with a little emphasis on the "According to Wirth-sama" phrase.

Ryoh stared at poor Wirth who was not only looking worried but was also as red as a tomato. Ryoh thought it was very suspicious.

Wirth was AGAIN mentally berating his big stupid brother and hoped they'd shut their mouth and be done with whatever they were doing.

However, even the UNIVERSE abandoned him.

There were sounds of fabric (probably bed sheets) ruffling followed by the sound of a woman groaning (in pain) and a man's short, low one after.

++++++++

"Ngh. If you grip that hard, you'll leave bruises on my shoulders." (Orter)

"Sorry. I-it hurts, you know. And I already told you not to press it that way!" (The lady whose voice sounded like she was shrieking in pain.)

"Apologies. But can you grab something else instead of my shoulders? The pain in my shoulder is distracting. I would like to do this correctly."

"You insensitive idiot! It's easier for me this way."

"Also, can you lift your right leg a little? I can't see it this way."

"Mhmkay. Just be gentle. That one hurts like mad."

++++++++

With that, the men behind the door were all red in the face. They were all mentally asking each other WTF was happening inside.

Wirth, who was sure before that Orter wasn't doing anything "suspicious", was currently questioning his brother's innocence.

008 wants to believe that his superior was not doing anything dubious with the lady and was trying to convince himself that the conversation was very innocent, but his mind was telling him otherwise and was now calling Orter his SUSperior.

On the other hand, Ryoh, who has just arrived at the crime scene, seems to be enjoying the scenario and has placed himself glued to the door like a lizard on the wall, listening intently to the noises inside the room. He was pretty sure that conversation was that of a couple enjoying themselves.

He was proud of Orter and was mentally telling him to make sure she enjoyed it (spoiler: she didn't) and to not be so rough. But he would also like to give his fellow visionary a lecture about choosing the right time and place to do THE DEED.

Another soldier came to the house, but this time, he was looking for Ryoh. He grabbed both Wirth and 008 by their collar and told them to give the two inside the room some privacy and to wait on the first floor. So he dragged the two men with him to the lower floor.

The soldier reported the progress of the fire situation and the number of detainees they had captured to the Light Cane. Unfortunately, one of the culprits who was also one of the ex-officials managed to escape during the chaos and they are actively searching for him.

Wirth wasn't happy to hear that and suggested he'd look for guy himself since for sure the guy hadn't escaped that far. But Ryoh told him to leave it to the magic security personnel.

The soldier also told Ryoh that they hadn't seen the Desert Cane yet, which made Wirth and 008 go back to their tomato-like state.

Ryoh assured the officer that he would personally inform Orter about it and that the Desert Cane was in the middle of helping "increase the population." The soldier looked confused but had accepted that answer and dismissed himself.

After around ten minutes, the door on the second floor opened. Orter went straight to the first floor with the basin and an empty glass in hand. He still looked as stoic as he had always been.

He saw the three men on the first floor. Wirth immediately asked about the lady.

Orter answered in a very "Orter" way that she was fine and was currently CHANGING. (Bless this man's stupid butt)

That did not help his case. The three dudes went Pikachu face after that. Wirth was ready to pounce on his brother and commit murder. 008 was in disbelief. Ryoh, however, with his right hand on his chin, looked at the Desert Cane with pride.

There was a long pause after that. Wirth decided to break the silence by asking Orter in a loud voice to confirm that his big brother was definitely just tending to the lady so the others can hear it. He tried to telepathically (he doesn't have that power) to say "Yes" or else.

And Orter confirmed it. He noticed his younger brother sighed in relief. At least, the other two hopefully would scratch whatever they had in mind about Orter's previous activity and thrown it out of the window.

Wirth started berating his brother for being too stupid. He wanted to ask his brother about the state of the lady (her clothes, mostly) and was hoping that the older Madl let her cover herself with something while he was tending to her wounds. But he couldn't find the courage to ask it because of the presence of the other two in the room and their "already" funny ideas might get even funnier once they know Orter was left doing things with an almost-naked lady in a closed room.

Wirth ended up asking it in a not-so-clear, inaudible way (so the others would not hear, fat chance though) that even Orter was confused. "Hey! Did you....you know...covered her at least... after I left?" His face was red as a tomato.

Unfortunately, Orter went "huh?" on him.

"You! You know... she was... you know... in that state (half-naked state)..."

Ryoh's interest was piqued.

Orter thought for a moment before answering, "No, it would just slow me down. I don't mind at all. She doesn't mind either."

"You ass!" He couldn't believe how nonchalant his brother and the lady was. Both of them were not normal. Then Wirth suddenly thought that perhaps, his brother and the lady knew each other before this.

He would have berated his brother even more if not for the presence of the lady (fully-clothed, of course) walking down the stairs.

When Ryoh saw the lady, he nodded approvingly, "Orter knows how to choose his lady." He thought.

The five of them talked at the dinning table and 008 told the lady that she shouldn't stay in Ursla because the of the state the village was in at that moment. Also, with the report of an ex-official still on the run, there was a big chance he'll come to take her life. And that there may also be other people who wants to kill her.

She told 008 that she understood his point and to give her some time to think.

That morning, the entire magic police and security personnel in Ursla departed to the capital with the detainees.

Wirth, 008, and Ryoh were waiting for the other two at the entrance of the village.

008 recalled the conversation they had last night with the lady, hoping she would come with them.

Orter announced that she would be coming with them to the capital to discuss some things including what happened last night, the events in Ursla a few years back, and also the black dragon she defeated.

Orter showed up to the entrance together with the lady. She decided to leave Ursla.

Wirth said it would make him feel more at ease knowing she would be coming with them and assured her that they would keep her safe.

He then asked his brother about her accommodation while staying in the capital. 008 suggested that she could stay in one of the spare dorm room in the Bureau of Magic building. Wirth didn't like that and suggested they could let her stay in a villa near the building.

Orter nonchalantly told them that both him and the lady have talked about it that morning and decided she would stay in his place.

008 and Wirth nodded at first, but went "HUH!!!?" right after realizing what Orter was saying. They still have not forgotten the embarrassing event that occurred the other night even though the misunderstanding should have been cleared by now.

Wirth asked the lady if she was truly fine living in the same roof as "that guy" (his brother, lol). She told Wirth that it was perfectly fine and that she used to live with just her father after her mom died so she doesn't mind living with a man in a house.

Wirth screamed, "NO! THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" in his head. How on earth was she so calm about the arrangement.

And then he had an epiphany all of a sudden. He concluded that his brother and the lady may have been lovers before but something happened and they split. That, for him, explains their nonchalant behavior during those two events (last night and the living together decision-morning talk, lol).

Ryoh was AGAIN looking so proud of Orter. He put his arm around Wirth's and told the young man that he should be proud of his brother for taking responsibility. A very manly guy, indeed.

++++++++++

Last night, while Wirth was trying to protect his brother's image from prying people, Orter was busy placing a magic handkerchief on the lady's wounds, mostly on parts of her body that she couldn't see or reach. He tends to press the handkerchief way too hard on the wounds, so the lady is mostly groaning in pain. She was instructing him on how to do it properly, and sometimes flat out told him that she would just do it herself but he didn't listen to her. There were big bruises on her thighs and legs especially at the back. Orter made sure he had every single bruise healed by the magic handkerchief.

"Hmm... You're not good with your hands, aren't you?" implying his lack of control with his strength. (Unfortunately, Ryoh heard that part when he was super glued to the door and thought that Orter was doing whatever the "God's work" he was doing with his hand. But then the soldier came and the men went to the first floor afterward.)

Orter said that he was not used to tending people's wounds and that he was never injured (badly, just some scapes) before so he was not sure if the pressure he was putting into the wounds was okay. The lady just "hmmm.." at his answer.

She then told him that he looked very much like himself (stoic/nonchalant) even though he was in front of an almost-naked woman, touching her all over the place and that most men, just like his younger brother, would feel uncomfortable in this situation.

"I could say the same to you." Orter retorted. He added that women in this situation would normally try to cover themselves in embarrassment or would probably hit the man in front of them. But she seemed rather relaxed and comfortable.

She thought for a moment and told Orter that she actually saw him few years ago. Before she went away to find the source of the disease. This piqued Orter's interest.

He doesn't remember coming to the village before, not even the places near Ursla. It was his first time coming to the province. He remembered the lady mentioned during the Nihara a few nights ago that she had not been out of the village before that.

This time, he was the one thinking. Then he realized something. He stared at the lady and asked if she saw him in that "thing."

The lady looked back at him confused but realized what he meant by "that thing" and confirmed that she indeed saw him the first time in "that thing" and that she remembered it quite well because of his unusual eyes.

She then asked him how he knew about it. He admitted to having remembered seeing her in "that thing" while he was watching her dance at the square during the Nihara. He added that it was when he was in his first year in high school together with a friend.

She murmured that she hoped he had not seen anything weird in "that thing." However, Orter answered that his stupid friend did something stupid at that time and he ended up seeing something he was not supposed to see. Orter then apologized to her. She told him not to worry about it and that the same case happened to her at that time she first saw him.

Both of them became quiet after and thought, "No wonder he's/she's fine with this."

That morning, she went out to visit the graveyard one last time. The lady saw Orter at the site so she approached him. They talked about her decision and Orter just nodded like he was already expecting it. He then proposed that she should live with him since it would be pointless and a waste of money if they would make her live in an apartment nearby. Also, since both of them have seen "it", then there shouldn't be a problem, and it was bound to happen anyway. The lady agreed and told him she would still pay him back, in which he just shrugged and said to do as she pleases.

While she was praying to the graves, Orter saw the old lady from a few days back. She was a bit far from their spot. The old lady smiled and him and bowed, as if thanking him for fulfilling her wish. And just like that, she disappeared into thin air.

Orter had a feeling that there was something with the old lady on that day they met. But since he did not feel any negative aura from her, Orter let it slide. But he still wondered who she was and her relationship with the lady.

After saying goodbye, both the lady and Orter walked to the entrance of the village to meet with everyone.

+++++++++++

Extra:

Last night, when the lady went down after changing, he saw the men on the first floor.

Wirth asked her how she was doing, and she said she was fine and that thanks to Orter, most of her wounds were healed and no longer hurt.

Ryoh then stood up and bowed. He introduced himself and told her his purpose in coming to the village. She bowed curtly and thanked him for coming all the way from the capital.

The Light Cane asked her politely for her name. Realizing that she should have told him after introducing himself, she apologize profusely and told him that she was not used to introducing herself to others.

Orter and Wirth realized something at that moment. They have yet to learn her name because the stupid brothers forgot to ask her even after spending time with her. They just call her "You," "Her," "That lady," and "Hey" all the time. They looked dumbfounded because they forgot to ask the most basic of all questions.

008 looked at them judgingly. He got the chance to ask for her name during their cooking hangout. At that time, the lady asked him not to tell the others her name because she would like to wait till they asked for it, just like how 008 found out her name. He was under the impression that the other two already knew by now.

"My name is Nadiya. Nice to meet you, Mr. Grantz."

-end-

Previous

---------------------------------------

That ends the Ursla Arc. It took me quite some time to write this into the tumble draft, but I'm happy with the outcome. I haven't finished writing the second arc (it'll probably have 9 chapters, too). I want to finish writing the first draft before typing it into the Tumblr draft, so it may take quite some time. That arc will have the answer to "that thing" but I guess you will have an idea about it if you have read the manga.

Also, her name means "hope" in both Arabic, Ukrainian, and Russian origin. I would like her name's meaning to have something to do with her main purpose/goal. Just like with Orter's "Order" and Wirth's "Worth". I would have wanted the name to sound similar to the words hope or change, but decided to stick with Nadiya.

The lady will also meet the rest of the cast and she will make tons of friends. She will also be a bit protective of a certain someone, much to Orter's displeasure. And Renatus + Kaldo + Ryoh trolling will start with poor Rayne being the victim.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

loosing your mind when they tilt your chin to look you in the eye + Perc’ahlia

loosing your mind when they tilt your chin to look you in the eye set in tlovm!

Vex is deep her cups, the kind of dangerous inebriation that entails reviewing every poor decision one has ever made ad nauseum. Tonight, in this dingy bar filled with loud goliaths and Scanlan's god-awful call-and-response, it's her dismal display in the Feywild, how easily she let that bastard of an archfey get to her. Fuck, to be so quickly taken in, so quickly read and dissected and spat out by a loser of a tree—it's like he saw her coming a mile off and just knew what delicious misery she'd deliver him.

Keyleth's passed out on the table and Pike has fucked off to some arm-wrestling competition with a tattooed orc four times her size, so Vex drinks alone, a battalion of empty tankards surrounding her. She has no idea where her brother is, and she can only imagine how plastered Grog, even with his hearty constitution, has gotten at this point. She know it's not good, to drink so much and let her thoughts swirl around, biting and caustic, but after the day, week, month they've had? She's earned a bit of wallowing.

Her reflexes are dulled to the point where she doesn't even flinch when a familiar posh voice to her side drawls, "Well you look miserable."

"Fuck off." She downs half of the tankard in her hands.

Percy slides onto the barstool beside her. "You really need to drink like this to steel yourself for a dragon fight?"

Gods above, she'd forgotten about the dragon. "No." She slams the tankard down. "At this point, I welcome the chance to skin one of those lizards alive."

She's still not looking at him, but his hand comes into view as it waves toward the evidence of her evening. "Then why the sudden onset alcoholism?"

Her head hangs low, eyes fixed on the table. What the hell does she say to that? What the hell does she say to him? What a fool she must have looked, Saundor's twiggy finger caressing her chin, his saccharine voice in her ear telling her all the things she's longed to hear, like a child clinging onto an imaginary friend. She must seem like such a little girl, so desperate for her father's love, which any idiot with a few brain cells to rub together could have seen in Syngorn that she's never going to get. She's embarrassed to even look at him, much less confess the maelstrom she's been caught up in ever since they left her father's house.

"Vex'ahlia." There's another finger beneath her chin now, this one warm, soft. It pulls her face toward his, and oh. There he is, not nearly as intoxicated as the rest of this tavern, looking at her as if all of the Herd and Vox Machina and Westruun had disappeared into thin air, and only they two were left in this ransacked town. The swirling, drunken thoughts come to a violent halt as her eyes meet his, and even through the din of the revelry around them, his low voice cuts through, an arrow through the air. "You were a force of nature back in the Feywild. I hope you know how proud we are of you. How proud I am."

It ignites instantaneously, a fire so crackling and hot in her belly she cannot believe she hasn't burst into flames before his very eyes. It is only by the grace of her drunken limbs that she does not snatch him by the collar and yank his mouth to hers, sloppy and hungry and so very, very needy. If she manages a response, she has no idea what it is. But he smiles at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and then gently pries the nearly empty tankard from her hand. "I think it's time you had enough."

Except oh, no, she has not had nearly enough, she thinks as he walks away. Not yet.

[damienthepious]

lalalalala oh we’re still here with the poor lizard

The Beast In On His Chain (chapter 13)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ch 12] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Absolon

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, prisoner/guard dynamic, Dehumanization, (which feels like a weird word to use for a nonhuman person bUT. it’s what i got.), Despair, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (EVENTUALLY!!!! it’ll take a while), Captivity, Suicidal Thoughts, (that will be a theme throughout. inescapable in this particular fic. alas.), Eventual Romance, (Yes the dynamics in this one are fucked. honestly i’m kinda Stretching my limits these days.), (having fun with it. fucking around. it’s fine.), Recovery, (eventually), Self-Reclamation

Chapter Summary: Rilla rages, and Arum dreams.

Chapter Notes: This one got... kinda abstract on the back half and MIGHT have made me cry at least once. Warnings for references to violence and blood, references to the treatment of dislocated fingers, continuing malnutrition and dehydration, and Arum continuing to be passively suicidal. oofa doofa.

~

"I want to see him," Rilla half-growls the next morning, pacing the floor like a cat, clenching and unclenching her hands in front of her stomach. "I want to- after something like that? I just- I can't even imagine what he must be thinking, I just-" she spins quick, throwing her body in another direction with a grimace. "But I can't, because it would be stupid to draw attention to myself after that happened, worst possible idea and it could come back down on you, too, because they're not complete idiots actually and if your fiance goes and hovers around the monster captive the so soon after he tries to escape, if Absolon is there and he recognizes me-" she huffs. "Only make things worse. I'd only make things worse and it might block off possibilities later, I'm already next to useless here anyway-"

"You are not useless," Damien interjects, feelingly, and Rilla pauses long enough to throw him a grimacing sort of smile, vaguely grateful, before she spins on her heel again and continues.

"I just... I want to see him. I know I can't see him. I'm worried. And it makes me want to break things! Which is a dumb, unhelpful urge. But it's there, and I'm not even the one who got hurt! I hate this, I just-"

"I think... I believe that patience is a tool we must employ," Damien says quietly, looking towards the window. "Time is the resource we have in the most abundance. It is very likely, my love, that without our influence, nothing at all will change. He will remain static, trapped, yes, but- neither better nor worse off. We must be..." he pauses, winces awkwardly, and then continues. "We must be careful. We mustn't move too quickly, or we risk..."

Speaking in terms of subterfuge makes Damien feel... twitchy. Dirty. Uncomfortable. He tries to bury the feelings, tries to refocus on the way Arum trembled as he released Damien from his grasp. The way Arum collapsed into his arms after Damien set his fingers.

His eyes.

Damien shakes his head. "I want to do this right," he settles on, after a long moment.

Rilla slows, slightly, and sighs. "Me too," she says, and then she pushes her hair out of her face again. "Me too. I just- it doesn't feel right."

Damien's lips tighten, his brow furrowing. "I don't expect that it will," he says, slowly. "Not until..."

"Not until he's free," Rilla says grimly. "Which won't happen unless we're careful, and clever. Which- I can be careful," she says. "Contextually," she adds when Damien flicks his eyes to her with gentle amusement. "When I need to be. It's like medicine. It demands precision and care, or the prognosis..."

He nods. "And we are both of us, I think, rather clever." He smiles. "Contextually."

She scowls at him, but her eyes are dancing. "I think he might be, too," she says after a beat. "He... his eyes-"

Damien's hands flex, oddly, and he twists them together in front of himself for a moment, the memory of Arum's eyes burning at the back of his mind.

"He looks... he looks like he's always thinking three steps ahead," she says. "I'm not actually all that surprised he tried to escape. I'm more surprised that he doesn't try more often."

"He used to," Damien says, almost without thinking, remembering the stories he used to hear, newer context making them seem... darker. More grim. If the result of this most recent escape attempt on Arum's physical form is any indication. "He... he used to."

Rilla meets his eye for a moment, expression hard, and then she swallows. "Well," she says, tone firm. "Good thing, then, that he's only going to need one more try."

Damien thinks-

The towering spire of the Citadel, the layer after layer of guards, the chains, the stone collar, the wide countryside full of knights-

He exhales, and then he nods.

"One more try," he agrees.

~

Arum's dreams are changing.

(His waking hours are changing, for the first time in however long. Perhaps this should not surprise him.)

They are changing; some sharper and darker, bloodier. Some of cutting and burning, like when he first came here and his worry for his Keep overwhelmed everything besides his rage and defiance. Some of Sir Absolon's gauntleted knuckles. The taste of blood.

Some of-

Other things.

Water, now.

Waterfalls, rivers. The collapsing ocean at the edge of the world. Water on Sir Damien's cheek, a handful of droplets, rivuleting together like condensation on a cool morning, running down his skin, trickling from the curls of his hair. The brightness of tears in his eyes.

(He does not think that one is real. He cannot remember, exactly. Wetness on Damien's cheek from pouring water unsatisfyingly over his head, but- not tears. Not real. Does that matter?)

Water on Arum's tongue, flowing down his throat as if to drown him, but he breathes it in and breathes it in and it fills him with soothing coolness as if he is himself a goblet, as if he is himself a lake. As if he could be filled. As if he could, perhaps, be satisfied.

(Damien sits with him every day, now. Brings a canteen full to the mouth every day, pours him cupful after tin cupful every day, allows Arum to drink it all the way to empty. Every day.)

(His throat hurts less. He feels- slowly, slowly, so slowly it is hard to be certain, but- he feels the difference. Drop by drop may still fill a bucket, and Arum...)

(Every day, Arum feels a little less empty.)

Some dreams are stranger. Some dreams, his vision comes in charcoal lines on pale parchment. Sketch-lines that move, landscapes shifting in soundless wind. Playful watercolors breathing in the plumage of a heron, in the dancing leaves of an aspen, in the light-scattering surface of a lake.

(Memories, or wishful thinking, spilling to mix with his only recent window into the outside world.)

Flowers. Flowers and flowers and flowers, bold dark lines contrasting with sweet yellow or vibrant orange. In the dreams they lay out in front of him, deep and endless and lovely, but- nothing he can touch, through the paper.

(Amaryllis hasn't come back since the attempt at escape.)

(They are not bringing tour groups through, just at the moment. He would feel satisfied, about that, if not for...)

He dreams of paper, charcoal. He dreams of water, yes.

He dreams adjacent to fire, as well. Adjacent, only, because it is not about fire, truly, in the dreams, it is only-

Heat.

(No sunlight, down here. No touch. Torches on the walls, far outside of his reach, and only cold steel and stone at his fingertips, he is so cold, here. Always. Except-)

Heat, against his scales. The suggestion of fire. Or-

(Damien hasn't touched him again since the day he set Arum's fingers. Has only touched him twice, in truth, and only once of his own will. Though- he still caught Arum, the first time, after Arum let him go. But that second time- the pain, yes, of fixing what had broken, but- afterwards, as well. A hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling, his snout almost pressed against the human's shoulder, Damien's other hand a suggestion of blazing heat, hovering just barely, just barely aside from Arum's cheek.)

Dreams of false fire. His scales hot with heart-heat, the heat of the blood in someone else's veins. Skin, soft dark skin against his scales. Hands on his shoulders, hands on his arms to help him fall into that blaze. Hands on his face. Heartbeat in his wrists, pulsing where Arum can feel it. A second rhythm, to accompany the lonely useless thing in his own chest.

(Arum wakes gasping. Wakes gasping. Wakes gasping, and finds himself surprised when Damien isn't there.)

He dreams-

He dreams of Sir Damien's bow. Dreams of his hands, raised. Dreams of pity transmuted to action. Dreams of his eyes, bright and bright and bright, blazing with heart-heat.

Arum still dreams the old dream, rekindled new. An arrow in his heart, and freedom.

(And from this revivified dream, Arum finds that he wakes in tears.)

[randomnameless]

Who's your favorite pairing/couple with a Nabatean?

Manu and Seteth !

I'm on copium trying to deal with Nopes sinking that ship lol

(Nopes AU : Manu is actually a spy using theater troupes and spectacles to smuggle intel about the Imperial army ?)

But more seriously, Manu is the idiot who charged headfirst against the Death Knight to save Flayn, she started to sing after hearing Rhea (even if she thinks it was the goddess) and she treats her after the nukes in SS and VW, obviously not put off by the fact that, uh, Rhea turned into a giant lizard to protect them all.

Also I love her supports with Seteth, she's her living disaster self and yet from all of his support partners (Billy excluded bcs avatar status - even if he doesn't tell her about his daughter in the supports, it's only in a paralogue!), she's the only one Seteth feels comfortable/trusts enough to reveal he has a daugher and could envisage settling with someone else after the death of his wife.

And I'm a sucker for "grumpy/flirty" duos

Also, the possibilities for nabatean nonsense is endless with Manu, poor Seteth will have to deal with his daughter "Brother did I tell you how awesome King Dimitri is? BTW, I have to pose for Ignatz today, he's going to make an awesome and fierce and cute painting, see you later!", his sister "Cyril grows up so fast, I used your shirt and trimmed it to craft him a new shirt! Why should I care if you don't have any shirts left? Go and buy some, oh, and btw, I took your purse to buy sweets" and Manu "instead of grading papers we could maybe drink a little, and then a bit more, and then we could talk about a possible partner for you? Like the woman standing in front of you? Who cares about paperwork, let's fu-"

[gardenofshadcws]

Dracula Daily Day 7

Jonathan Harker’s Journal

· Love that Jonathan has picked up on how suspicious Dracula’s interrogations are. This is no genre-blind idiot protagonist, he knows where he is.

· Now if only he would stop actually answering him truthfully, he’s just giving him ammo to enact his evil plans

· Jonathan honey under no circumstances should you stay there for a whole month

· At least include in the letter that you’re being held captive

· Oh my god this sweet boy only cares about his employer, it’s such a mood but this poor thing. I can totally understand being so scared of unemployment that I’ll do anything to get a job done but staying imprisoned with a murderer is probably pushing it

· “not discourse of things other than business in your letters” well that’s not threatening at all

· This whole sleep thing, is he warning Jonathan that he might get drugged so he’s easy prey or do I have 20000 Leagues on the brain?

· LIZARD MAN LIZARD MAN

· Gross lizard man is somehow both absurd and terrifying

· Maybe if Jonathan tosses him a piece of fruit or perhaps a cricket maybe he’ll calm down. That’ what you do with lizards right?

[ohsoulymoons]

Confession 0.0

I can't make my characters straight especially Duncan, Brody, Scott, Noah, Brick, Heather, Lindsay, Courtney, Izzy, and Gwen

I can't help it.

I don't why but every time I write them I I black out and make them go insane and hella horny fuckwits.

Basically I can fix them but that's no longer option because they don't want to be fixed. They want be alive, fun, vibing so bad with their bullshit, and look at that hehe chaos and fire!!

I need my feral biting the walls Duncan because everyone told him to behave for five minutes but then making a manifesto about women rights mostly drunken draws with Geoff and Bridgette as Dj with Noah sighing at the drunken spelling, his dyslexia, and 10 pages of the same lines of fuck you dad I loved ma better anyways! Then accidentally mentioned something about Courtney being a bitch then crying about him being a bad ally

Courtney sobbing into vodka bottle with 4 them empty around her with Brick trying shush her also drunk sinking the United States American national anthem as a lullaby to try to cheer her up in the corner of the room as Gwen drunkenly dancing near them reciting her own unique way of Romeo and Juliet between an alien princess and a lizard man from Canada named Kant as Courtney sobbing it's so good Gwen write it down! I'm

Scott passed out on top of Brody already in the middle of the chaos as Heather drunkenly yelling at them to be fun! Then sobbing thinking they're died for some reason as Izzy passed out sleeping in chandelier above them somehow

Tyler struggling to get his lovely girlfriend Lindsay to stop scaring the poor fucked up Alejandro thinking she's a ghost running around crying in Spanish as the others try calm down the other drunken toddler idiots

[silentmoth345]

Poor reptile with baraka?! He ate there children, lizard babies the fuck if wrong with you?!!

Durr il put them together for no reason cause I'm an idiot

Are you done?

[midnight193]

More lethal company moments with Midnight pt. 2

~First Lobby~

So after a bit of hearing this guy complain about this poor person not having a mic he kicks them, well me and the other person have decided to just go in. We go to walk out to drop stuff out then I was going to go fire exit

We walk out and all of the sudden, I'm dead. So I'm staring at my screen like WTF and I see the owner, and I realized he killed me with the ladder

Owner: Hold still, I'm testing something

Person: You killed him!

Owner: I was testing something now hold still

Now I'm a petty bitch so I vote for the ship to leave so they got to go, this doesn't stop him from trying to still kill us

Later when the two of us are getting stuff again we go to the ship to see what the plan is. Now the owner is telling us to go back cause we left a ton of stuff inside. I'm suspicious of him so I said if he knows where everything is he should go with us. He says he shouldn't. We get into an argument and I just decided to take off. Then as he's trying to yell at me about that I just leave the lobby

~Just loads into new lobby~

Random Guy: I'm actually gonna shoot myself

Me: uh, Hi? (I just loaded in man T^T)

~Later~

Guy: so you have any rizz?

Me: No? Why?

Guy: So you don't know any pick up lines?

Me: No, no I don't

~Even Later~

I went to turn around to look at the Owner to ask a question, the third person in our party is right next to me so when I turned around his face was right next to me

Guy: Were you trying to give me a kiss?

Me: No? *Awkward laughs*

Guy: Oh, so you like the owner?

Me: No? Why? (What is his problem)

This dude kept saying he loved me and told me a story bout when he said guys to the party he was playing with someone yelled at him cause they identify as a lizard.

~New Lobby~

Me: Hello

Person #1: do you think the pj's are a waste of money?

Me: Absolutely not

Person #2: Nah, it's worth it

Me: So worth it

Person #1: idiots, I'm with idiots

Owner: laughing the whole time

~A few moments later~

I'm climbing up the stairs on Titan to grab some last things when I hear a dog. I crouch and move up looking down. Then this bitch grabs me from above!

Me: OMFG THAT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME

Person #2: *laughing* man that sucked

Me: my heart man

The other two are on the ship and me and person #2 are yelling at them to leave

Now I don't remember which one opened the door but 1 opened the door, the second got eaten and the last one alive runs to leaves

Me: Damn dude, that sucks

Person #2: Why did they do that?

Person: I don't know but that scared me