#she can use a dagger fairly well... just saying

[quietresistance]

not me over here thinking about how in basically all of katherine's medieval/renaissance verses or ones from settings inspired by those times, she's out there carving a place in the same ways that the women then did. she's often working alongside her father: she keeps the books, helps run a business, travels even. she's educated and excellent at her job... it isn't a journalist position, but she does write letters fairly often to family and friends about what is happening in the world around her, as many did when possible. she's an enterprising young woman connected to the world around her, and it brings me such joy.

[inexplicifics]

If you're still open for the heart prompts, here's a lil curveball- 💚 or 🖤 for milena/aiden(/lambert). Or 💘, if those are too tricky.

I want you to know that this was quite a challenge!

Aiden flings himself between Milena and the sorcerer without a second thought. Witchers are sturdier than humans - and Lambert would never forgive him if she died while under Aiden’s protection. Hell, Aiden would never forgive himself.

The spell hits like a charging bullvore, and Aiden goes arse-over-teakettle, landing heavily at Milena’s feet. It feels like his bones have been filled with hot lead and his muscles turned to stinging nettles. He wants to scream and can’t quite find the breath.

“Well, that takes care of that,” the mage sneers, and comes mincing towards them. “Now then, your family misses you very badly, girl. Or at least they’re willing to spend quite a lot of money to get you back.”

“I will not be returning to them,” Milena says firmly. “What have you done to him?”

The sorcerer snickers. “Nothing that can be undone,” he gloats. “He’ll die slowly unless his true love kisses him, and everyone knows witchers can’t love. Now come along, girl.”

He reaches over Aiden to grab Milena’s arm, and two things happen at once:

Aiden finds the strength, somewhere, to lift his arm just enough to drive his sword into the bastard’s leg, high up where the blood runs near the surface -

And Milena produces a dainty little silver dagger from somewhere and puts it neatly and precisely through the sorcerer’s throat.

The sorcerer topples backwards, thank fuck, instead of onto Aiden; he’s probably dead before he hits the ground.

Milena drops to her knees at Aiden’s side, dark eyes wide and frantic. “Aiden - my gods -”

“Worth it,” Aiden rasps. Fuck, he hadn’t realized the pain could get worse. It’s not as bad as the Grasses, not quite, but if it keeps increasing at this pace it will probably outstrip even that particular high-water mark of agony fairly soon. Fucking mages.

But better him than Milena.

“No,” Milena says, shaking her head desperately. “No, you can’t - you can’t die -”

But Lambert’s not close enough; he’s a good three days’ travel away at best, and Aiden is fairly sure he won’t survive that long. Especially given that he doesn’t think he can stand. That blow to the sorcerer’s leg used up most of his strength.

“‘S alright,” he says, finding a crooked smile somewhere. “‘S worth it.”

“No, it isn’t,” Milena says fiercely. “And - and what I feel for you is no less than what I feel for Lambert, and you are willing to give your life for me, so this ought to work -”

And she cups her slender hands around his face and leans down and kisses him fervently.

The shock of the pain ending is enough to startle a gasp out of Aiden, and Milena pulls back, wide-eyed, to stare down at him in desperate hope.

Aiden gapes up at her for a long, stunned moment. Finally he finds his wits enough to croak, “No less than what you feel for Lambert?”

Milena blushes, which is answer enough.

“Marvelous great-hearted girl,” Aiden murmurs, and reaches up to cup her head ever so gently in his hands and guide her down into a second, softer kiss. “I would die for you,” he adds quietly, as their lips part. “Even as I would for Lambert.”

Four days and quite a few miles later, Lambert looks from Aiden to Milena and back again with an expression of incredulous delight and says, “I am the luckiest fucking bastard in the world, holy shit.”

Milena blushes and giggles. Aiden grins. “Nah, I think that’s me,” he says cheerfully. “We can be joint-luckiest, though, if you like.”

“Sounds good,” Lambert agrees, and wraps his arms around them both, clinging tightly. Milena nestles against his chest, tucked safely between them, and Aiden kisses his lover - one of his lovers, because he is the luckiest bastard in the world - with all the joyful gratitude in his heart, because he’s alive to do it.

And then he kisses Milena again, just because he can.

(It's also here on AO3!)

[fandomxpreferences]

Drink Up Chapter Three: Jealous

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

TW: pining, none really

Summary: After weeks of playing cat and mouse, Jake finally makes some progress.

Word Count: 1.3k

It's another two weeks before Jake can elicit another reaction from you. Playing nice wasn't working, so he figured he’d try playing dirty. You try not to shoot daggers at the back of his head as he talks to the woman, but you’re fairly certain he can feel your eyes burning into him.

You are not jealous of the woman with perfectly smooth hair and model good looks and legs that go on for days. You just feel the urge to smash her pristine face into the bartop more and more with every passing second. Nope, not jealous at all.

Despite your best efforts to resist the man, he’s worn down your defenses over the past couple of months. You’ve found yourself looking for him when you see his group walk in and your ears perk when you hear his laugh through all the commotion. 

It's not that you dislike Jake or that you don’t find him attractive, because holy hell he is. You’ve just been scorned by men in uniform one too many times and you don’t want to put yourself through that again. 

But every night, Jake does his best to get your attention. And even though every night you shoot him down, he always returns more persistent than the day before.

You’re starting to believe that he might actually be serious. Regardless, you’re having fun with this little game of cat and mouse and if he wants your number, he’s going to have to work for it.

You watch as she slips a piece of paper into his hand with a smirk before slinking back off into the crowd. You look away quickly when he starts to turn around and try to make yourself look busy. Unfortunately for you, you’re not paying attention to what you're doing and the cup overruns onto the counter. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim to yourself while jerking your hand away from the cold liquid and grabbing a rag. 

Jake laughs at you and your eyes shoot up to send him a glare. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re flustered.” He pokes and you scoff. 

“Well, good thing you know better then.” You bite back and his eyes twinkle. 

“You jealous I got her number, Red?” He asks in a teasing tone and you roll your eyes. Despite you telling him your name he still insists on using your "call sign", as he refers to it.

“Why would I be jealous? I’ve had plenty of opportunity to do the same, but in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t want to.” You quip.

You momentarily wish you could take it back when hurt flashes across his face, but as quick as it came it's gone and Jake is back to his usual composed self. 

“Well, some women love an American hero.” He smiles and your eyebrow shoots up. 

“If you’re the hero, that must make me the villain.” You taunt and he nods his head. 

“Mhmm, and a very pretty one at that.” He says while looking you over. “By the way, pull your skirt down. You’re practically flashing the whole bar.” 

You lean on the bartop and make sure to press your boobs together in your low-cut v-neck t-shirt. “The skirt is short on purpose.” You whisper and his eyes darken slightly. 

“You trying to push my buttons, Red?” He asks and you chuckle. 

“Every last one, G.I Joe. Is it working?” You use his nickname that you finally settled on and see his jaw tick.

“Better than I care to admit. Pull it down.” He says firmly and you stand back up straight, suddenly aware of the heat rushing between your legs at the command. 

You try to cover up the fact he got you flustered but he’s tuned into your body language and catches it quicker than you can react. “I get better tips like this.” You brush off his demand and he shakes his head. 

“I don’t care.” He says while pulling out his wallet. He lies down a hundred and stares into your eyes. “That’s more than you’d make in tips. Now pull it down.”

You stare back defiantly for a second and debate standing your ground. But part of you wants to see what happens when you listen for once and you slowly reach down and pull the hem of the skirt to your mid-thigh. 

Within a second, the normal light-hearted Jake is back and he flashes you a bright smile with a tip of his imaginary hat. “Thank you.” 

Your eyes narrow slightly, and you decide to push a little further. “Why do you care anyway? You got that bitch’s number, so why are you bothering me?”

The smirk that comes over his features makes you want to slap him and you immediately regret asking the question. 

“So you are jealous.” He jokes and before you can respond he drops the paper into a nearby glass of water. “There, nothing to worry about. I was just being polite.” He shrugs and your mouth drops open slightly. 

“You know you’re not getting me into bed, right?” You remind him and he gives you a shit-eating grin. 

“Who said it has to be a bed?”

You groan loudly and throw your head back. “Please be quiet. I can’t hear myself losing the will to live.” 

He laughs loudly and you drop your head to look at him again when he speaks. “You know you love it.” 

You cross your arms over your chest and stick your hip out for emphasis. “I will kick your ass.” You try to keep a serious tone but your lips curl up ever so slightly at the banter.

“I don't doubt it. You know you could put us both out of our misery if you would just give me your number.” He suggests and you cackle. 

“If I did that I would just be subjecting myself to this all the time.” You retort and he shakes his head. 

“If you would just go on a date with me, you’d find I'm really much more likable than you think.” He sighs dramatically. 

“Jake,” You utter and he frowns at the use of his actual name. “Jokes aside, at the end of the day you don’t actually want me. You just like the chase.”

“I really wish you would stop telling me what I want.” He says seriously and you notice the air around the two of you become heavier. 

“I’ve been completely entranced by you since I laid eyes on you. I love the playfulness but underneath it, I'm serious about this. I want all of you. You just have to give me the chance to show you that.” He tells you and you feel your heart racing in your chest. 

“You work almost every night. Have you seen me leave with a single woman since you met me?” He asks and you think back. It's actually a valid point. He hasn’t gone home with anyone. In fact aside from tonight, he hasn’t even entertained a woman. 

He studies your face as you ponder his statement and right when he’s about to give up you speak. 

“Fine. I’ll go on a date with you. If you manage to show me you're serious, then you can have my number.” You relent. 

Jake's face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning and you’re pretty sure he’s resisting the urge to jump up and cheer. 

“Really?” He asks skeptically and you nod. 

“Don’t make me regret this, G.I Joe.” You say while pointing a finger at him. 

He smiles when you use his nickname again and nods. “Trust me, I won’t.” He says and you purse your lips. 

“We’ll see.” You grumble and he walks back over to his friends with an extra pep in his step. 

You lay your head on your arm and close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. What have you gotten yourself into?

@drakelover78 @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @chair-things @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @turningtoclown @phantomxoxo @rosiahills @gspenc @benhardysdrumstick

[klausysworld]

hello !! i was wondering if you could do a friends to lovers angst with a happy ending fic with klaus and gender neutral reader??

Always and Forever.

Being Klaus Mikaelson’s best friend has its issues lets say. You know with the permanent target on my back and his siblings always needing me to sort him out. It gets a little ridiculous. But i kinda signed up for it so eh what you gonna do?

Im a werewolf, Klaus and i met through Hayley when she wanted me to help look after Hope. Once Hope was born the Mikaelsons began taking out their enemies one by one so that when Hope grows up she can be safe. I’m an emotional support animal for them most of the time and i got used to that role. They all tell interesting stories anyway as they’re like a million. Klaus has just always been my favourite though, like have you seen him?? yea he’s fucking hot. Accent? to die for. He paints his feelings and is a great dad, if i didn’t know he was a psychotic serial killing original hybrid id be screaming husband material…sooo

So i have like a teensy crush on him. It’s not like im gonna get with him though, its just a you’re cute and i see you all the time and you make me blush and make me feel butterflies in my stomach and i think about you all the time kind of thing you know?

doesn’t matter. Anyway… right now im sat with hope in the play room. We’re both sat on a big beanbag reading kids books, she’s learning how to read and spell so it’s fairly amusing listening to her pronounce it.

Halfway through the book there was a loud slamming and a mix of all the siblings yelling, Klaus’s being the most heard as usual

“hope honey? you keep reading okay? im gonna be right back yea?” i told her and hiss her temple

“bye bye y/n, don’t get mad at dada he gets sad when your mad” i smiled at her and waved as i closed the door so she couldn’t hear the argument

i made my way down the stairs and to the main room where Klaus was pointing a dagger at Rebekah while Elijah was cautiously making his way closer to Niklaus

“ah shit” i whispered but they all heard me and heads turned to me. Klaus visibly gulped and hesitated when on his grip of the dagger, he didn’t like me to see his violent side knowing that i was someone who actually liked him it scared him that i would leave too

“love, you need to go back with Hope for a bit please.” i kept my eyes trained on his as i neared the situation, Elijah took a step towards Rebekah so they could make a run for it when Nik was in a less aggressive position

“can we talk about what you want to do before you do it? Hopes waiting for you, she wants to read you a story, she’s getting really good at her big words now” i could see his face softening, he glanced at the floor for a second before nodded stiffly, i put my hand out and he dropped the dagger into it, the other siblings sped out of the room immediately.

i took his hand and lead him up the stairs i stopped outside the play room and looked at him for a moment

“you can’t go in mad you know that…” he kept his eyes down as he nodded, it was then that he sniffed and i noticed the tears in his eyes

“hey, it’s okay, come on, come here” i brought to his room instead and sat him down on his bed, i put the dagger somewhere on his shelf and moved to lay down on his bed, i tugged his arm making him lay with his head on my shoulder and his arm across my body while he curled into my side. i pet his hair and rubbed his back

“don’t be sad honey, you’re too pretty to pout” i felt his tears hit my skin and held him tighter

“i can’t keep either of you safe, not…you and not Hope, i c..i can’t” i kissed his head softly and squeezed his arm

“you are doing such a great job nik, Hope and i both know how hard you’re working, everyone is gonna keep her safe, you are doing so well, i promise you that” he made a little noise, somewhat like a whimper that i don’t think he meant to let out

“but you’re not safe, you’re never safe anymore. It’s because of me and we both know that” i shook my head and sat us both up, i cupped his face between my hands and stroked his stubble

“im here by my choice, i want to be here. You don’t need to worry about me okay?” tears seemed to never stop falling from his pastel blue eyes

“i can’t lose you” he whispered making my heart break, i brought his face closer to mine and kissed his forehead

“you won’t, im staying”

“you promise?”

“you want me to give you my word all Elijah style?”

he laughed at that and nodded resting his head against mine

“i, as an honorary Mikaelson, give you, Niklaus Mikaelson, my very special, ultra powerful word that i will never, ever leave you. I love you.” he was smiling wide and laughing

“mmm that was very ultra specially powerful i must say, and i love you too” i laughed with him and wrapped my armed around his neck

“mm yes Mr Mikaelson only the uttermost best for you, my lord” i spoke in a mocking accent and threw my head back dramatically

“you are amazing you know that?” he spoke in a hushed tone and i nodded with a warm smile

“I love you.” his face was serious as he said it making me giggle

“uhuh i love you too we say it all the time” he shook his head and pulled me closer

“you don’t understand, i love you, not like you’re my friend and i love you like, i want to be with you and marry you love you!” he didn’t give me a chance to respond before his lips were on mine, i kissed back as fast as possible as we melted against each other

“i love love you too Nik, remember if you marry me its gotta be always and forever though and i expect a ring” he chuckled to that and nodded hastily

“ the best ring, the best dress, the best everything for you my love, always and forever”

i was smiling ear to ear as i nodded

“We need to go see Hope”

“I think she’s listening at the door..”

little giggles sounded through the room as she launched herself at us both

“i wanna be a flower girl!!”

we all stayed up late reading stories with hope and looking at engagement rings, supernatural war or not, we would stay together. Always and forever.

[howtofightwrite]

Could you recommend a weaoon for a medieval fantasy setting, which would be easy to conceal in the clothes of a woman? The country of it's origin does not matter. Obviously I'm thinking of something like a knife or a dagger at most, but all pictures I could find still look like rather large weapons. She'll not be fighting with it against other weapons, I just had the loose idea that there must be something that would be really inconspicuous to hide. Also, were a hair pin weapons a thing?

Have you considered summoning a blade from the aether? What about a liquid metal sword which is carried concealed on her person, possibly even blending into her skin, but can then form into the full weapon in her hand, when she manipulates a ring? How about a blade of raw magical energy that she carries disguised as a hairpin, only for it to effectively turn into a fantasy lightsaber when she activates the conspicuous gem on the tip.

Have you considered the full Witchblade route? Where she has an artifact (in the case of the Witchblade, it was a bracelet), which carries its own distinct symbiotic being, which forms into weapons (and armor) for her to wield. With the bonus point that you can't simply take it away from her, because it is, biologically, a part of her.

It's probably, still worth saying, if you're planning to take a dagger to a sword fight, also plan to be disappointed by the outcome. One of the biggest factors in these kinds of weapon match-ups is the overall length of the weapon. A character armed with a dagger simply won't be able to reach an opponent armed with a sword, while their foe will be free to fillet them at their leisure.

The dagger works very well as an ambush weapon. When shanking an unaware foe, the length of their sword won't matter, and the overall compact nature of the dagger makes it very easy to conceal and use without warning.

The country of origin, and exact era, are fairly important to assess what you could hide on your person, but even then, if the point is to have something concealed, then the dagger is probably the best option. Though, you could get away with hiding a lot under a traveling cloak. Probably up to and including swords.

As for the specific size of daggers, it's worth remembering that there was a clean size continuity between knives and swords. In the modern era, it's become popular to try to break these down into specific categories like the long sword, short sword, dagger, and knife, but historically, those blended together. There weren't clean lines delineating which weapon fit into different categories. You need a blade roughly 3” long to kill someone, after that, it's all gravy. Yes, a larger blade makes it easier, but if your character is prioritizing on eliminating people quietly, a smaller blade would be easier to hide.

Or, you know, it's fantasy, embrace that and go wild. There's a lot of really cool stuff you can whip out in a high fantasy setting, especially when you start trying to create magical items and artifacts that are designed with more specialized purposes in mind, and step beyond, “a sword that sets people on fire when you hit them with it.”

-Starke

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[blackjackkent]

Hm - ok, out of curiosity, I triggered a second long rest to see if something about the shapeshifters would proc once Wyll's business with Mizora was out of the way, and... well...

"Kainyank! Your deception ends now! I shall cleave the truth from you like flesh from a dhour!"

Oh boy.

"Help me!" the girl squeals in terror, looking up at Hector as he approaches. "She's gone mad!"

OK so. A couple things.

First of all - I speculated in my last post, off the cuff, that Yenna and/or her cat was in fact the shapeshifter interloper. It's entirely possible (even likely, I dare say) that Lae'zel is being rash here, but if she is not, I reserve the right to call myself a freaking genius at the end of this scene.

Second, it's tragically out of character for Hector to say, but this fourth dialogue option is absolutely what's going on in his head:

However - this is Hector, so his primary priority is immediately trying to defuse the situation, ideally before Lae'zel puts a blade in a potentially innocent child's neck.

"What in the hells is going on here?"

"This is not the whelp who's been following us," Lae'zel snaps. "I saw her. She slipped into camp in the form of a woman and shifted into this... abomination. She tried to silence me and hide her deception!"

"I didn't do anything!" the girl cries out with very credible terror, struggling to release herself from Lae'zel's iron grip.

Fairly interesting, this - I literally just, this afternoon, finished writing a fic (coming soon!) about how Hector and Lae'zel have bonded a lot more recently (mostly about their similarly unhealthy coping mechanisms for dealing with all the Strong Emotions in their lives right now, but still). So Hector's instinct is very much to believe Lae'zel.

Certainly, if this is Lae'zel, he doesn't believe she would be lying to him about this. She's made no secret of finding Yenna annoying, but she would not lie about it like this. Not to him.

It might not be Yenna. But it might just as easily not be Lae'zel.

Gods, he hates this. He hates that after he has grown so much in learning to trust those he travels with, that trust is being torn from under him by something outside their control. He hates that Orin's very existence is enough to upset the order of things, that she need not even act in order to cause them to start to tear themselves apart from within.

Moonmaiden, grant me wisdom... please...

"Do you have any proof?" he asks carefully.

"Is my word not enough?" Lae'zel snarls.

With a quick, sharp motion, she pulls a dagger from her belt, lifts it to Yenna's neck.

"Say your farewells, ne'voocrim!"

Hector puts out a hand sharply before she can strike, his eyes fixed on hers. [PERSUASION] "There's something we're not seeing here!" he snaps out.

Look at me, Lae'zel - if you truly are the woman I have come to know, who has come to trust me... you will stay your blade until I can speak.

(A/N: 25 DC, almost impossible even with Voice of the Circle AND Favorable Beginnings, but crit success on an inspiration re-roll, holy shiiiiit.)

Lae'zel's face twists at the interruption; abruptly she shoves the girl aside and takes a step towards Hector. Her eyes narrow and her lips curl in a sudden mad smirk - and Hector feels a chill roll through his whole body.

"Perhaps if I remove your eyes," she sneers, "you'll see things as they are."

Hector takes a rapid step back, his hands lifting, ready to strike. This is not Lae'zel - that much is suddenly obvious, and his neck prickles with fear. How long? How long has she been here lurking among them? Where has Lae'zel been taken? What has Orin done to her?

As if in answer, the false githyanki's head twists in a spasmodic jerking movement that is, by now, all too familiar.

The sense of utter violation is surprising. He feels his whole body go tense, a muscle working in his jaw. To be surprised by Orin in the city is one thing, but to have her here in their camp, their place of safety and respite and refuge - to have her take the form of one of his closest allies, and threaten to murder an innocent child in front of him...

His expression remains utterly still, showing no sign of the turmoil in his mind, but his fists clench at his sides.

There's soft footsteps behind him. The others have started to wake at the commotion, to realize what is happening. He can hear the slide of metal on metal as blades are drawn, the sound of hoarse, nervous breath. But no one strikes; perhaps all of them are as overwhelmed as he feels at this invasion of their home.

That unsettling smile has not moved from Orin's lips throughout her transformation. "Look at it," she murmurs, her eyes tracing over Hector from head to foot with disdainful amusement. "Crawling and sniffing and rooting around in the filth. Is it my Netherstone you seek, little piggy?"

She reaches out a hand, draws her fingertips tauntingly along his jaw. Her skin is ice-cold, like the touch of a corpse. He doesn't move, resists the urge to flinch. "Hush... hush..." she croons, her eyes alight with madness. "Orin will take care of you. And your little pet."

At Hector's side he sees the flash of a blade. Karlach has moved next to him, and her sword is up, the point aimed directly at Orin's throat.*

Hector's voice is tight and hoarse, trying not to show the depth of his fear in this moment. "What have you done with Lae'zel?"

Orin draws back with a soft, maniacal giggle. "Nothing!" she says brightly. "No, not a thing! Still gasping and gagging on the foul airs of Bhaal's temple." She smiles slowly, full of gleeful malice. "I will not slice. Her kind die too easily."

She begins to stroll casually between their bedrolls, seemingly unconcerned by the weapons drawn in her direction, or the anger in her audience's eyes. "The Murder Lord demands a better offering. Something new... sticky sweet and delicious." She pauses, turns to meet Hector's gaze again, pokes a finger towards his chest.

"He wants *you.*"

"Fuck that," Karlach mutters at his side.

Hector shakes his head slightly. His skin is crawling at the nearness of the shapeshifter, at what she is describing, and his adrenaline is starting to pump with urgency - the need to find Lae'zel, to get away from this creature, to escape whatever the God of Murder has in mind for them all. But they need information before they can hope to retaliate...

"The Murder Lord wants me?" He is surprised to hear how steady his voice sounds all of a sudden. "Why?"

"Ketheric's killer..." she murmurs. There's a strange sort of eager hunger in her tone now at the mention of the violence Hector has wrought in the past. "Turned the corpse-lover to carrion when you took his stone. But he was a dull kill. No blood to spill, no guts to rip - a desiccated husk, all dust and hollow." Her breath catches with an eager whine, those pale blank eyes widening. "You must be sharpened before you set your edge against my skin."

Hector shudders. "Enough of these riddles," he snaps. "Speak plainly."

Orin tilts her head. "You'd prefer my whispers in the tyrant's tongue?" she says.

Another sudden twist, a flash of red - and Gortash stands before him instead.

"You've heard Gortash's whispers. I see how your skull swarms with his promises..." The words are Orin's, but now uttered in Gortash's low, sardonic growl. "He whinges and wails over the Crown of Karsus, wanting to command it without me... Oh, how I long to slit his poxy smile from ear to ear. But I can't touch him. He bound my blade when we first conspired."

"Gortash didn't want me at first. Didn't trust me. Got me to wag my tongue, swear an oath never to hang him from the hooks, drip-drain him into Father's open jaws... You must kill the tyrant, take the Netherstone from his corpse, and bring it to my temple. There we slice and shred each other. The survivor claims the stones. What's left of the other is Bhaal's."

It is incredibly unsettling to hear Orin's insane ramblings coming from Gortash's throat. Hector listens in silence, watches as the creature shifts again, back to Orin's pale skin and eyes.

"Agree, and I will bring my assassins to heel. They watch you always, longing to spray the crimson from your veins. Refuse me, and you'll learn what happens to those who defy Bhaal's doctrine. So will your friend."

Narrator: Orin demands a fight to the death. The prize for the victor - the Netherstones, and the chance to control the crown alone. Accept, and you must kill Gortash. Refuse, and your companion's life may be forfeit. As might your own - Orin's assassins will hunt you like prey for slaughter.

Hector's mind whirls, wheels turning rapidly as he tries to parse the situation and the best way out of it.

The worst thing about this situation is that agreeing to Orin's demands feels like the right answer.

He was already going to kill Gortash; that has been a given for quite some time. Even were he not one of the Chosen, Hector would help Karlach destroy him regardless; as it is, he cannot be allowed to live. And Orin is, by far, the scarier of the two remaining leaders of the Dead Three's plot. Allying with her long enough to keep her shapeshifting assassins off of him and his friends is more than a little appealing.

Then, of course, there is Lae'zel. He intends to rescue her regardless of the agreement here; she cannot be allowed to languish in a Bhaalist prison. Not after how important she has become to him, to the whole group. She is one of their family now. But to agree to Orin's demands for now would perhaps help to ensure her safety long enough for him to find her.

Normally at this point in his thought process, he would consider that he abhors the thought of lying, of placing his word of bond on a deal that he means to betray. But the extraordinary thing about what Orin is offering is that her endgame is only the final showdown between them that was coming anyway; he does not want control of the Netherstones, but he was never going to let her live. She expects his betrayal, it is even written into the deal - what she offers is only a brief cessation of hostilities long enough for it to come to blows between them in another place.

She is, in short, offering him a deal for what he was going to do anyway - kill Gortash, and then kill her. The only variable is Lae'zel's safety, which is better ensured by playing the game Orin's way, at least for now.

"So be it," he says harshly. "I will kill Gortash. Lae'zel lives. Then we fight for the final Netherstone."

Her eyes widen with insane joy. "The promise of slaughter! Of pain and humiliation and the sound of blood drip-dropping into the gutter. Do not underestimate his Steel Watch. Seek their cradle in the Lower City and skewer their skull meat. Make them rust and blood. Then you can gore the lordling again and again and again--"

She squirms with excitement, her voice rising in pitch to an eager squeal, those pale eyes fixed on Hector's face. "But listen. Listen close, Bone-killer... Step in my domain while the tyrant still sucks air, and I will carve your failure into your pretty plaything's skull. Bring me his stone and I will set the bait free. Only then can you and I make exquisite butchery. The victor will set the world to slaughter."

She twists the ring on her finger, disappearing into a burst of red light with her last words hanging in the chill night air. "This is Bhaal's offer. He will not make another."

-----

"Holy shit. Fuck. Soldier, what the fuck was that?" Karlach's sword falls to her side and her other hand grabs Hector's arm urgently. "We're not seriously going along with this?"

"Why not?" Hector says bitterly. "All she has asked us to do is kill Gortash and then come to fight her. I don't believe we ever had another plan anyway."

"And Lae'zel? You believe she'll just let her go?" Shadowheart asks, her eyebrows knitted with concern. Even now, she bears no particular love for their githyanki comrade - but she has come far enough at Hector's side that she doesn't want Lae'zel lost either. "She's a trickster - a creature of shadow beyond any that ever served Shar. Who is to say she will keep her promise?"

"I believe she'll keep her safe until I come to face her," Hector says wearily. "Because she knows we would not leave Lae'zel behind. Alive, she's bait. Dead, she's useless."

Jaheira smiles, without humor. "I believe you are correct," she agrees quietly. "So it seems we have only one path forward."

Hector nods. "And the first step is killing Gortash - ideally with as little delay as possible."

Karlach's lips curl in a savage smile and her hand tightens on Hector's arm. "Well - you won't hear any argument from me."

-----

* Artistic license, obviously. I just liked the mental image. XD

[cookinguptales]

so my dad and I went to a concert in san francisco last night and the thing is... the thing is...

I tend to be a nonconfrontational person. I try to be friendly, polite, and fairly accommodating, especially when interacting with people that I don't know well. But... admittedly... I kind of have a hair trigger about accessibility these days...

The venue was a fucking nightmare, tbh. We contacted them repeatedly (phone and email) about accessibility because we knew it was largely standing-room only. (Reaching out to the performers wasn't an option for various reasons.) They finally got back to us and said that if I showed up early, I'd be able to get a seat.

Okay.

We weren't sure how early was "early" and they wouldn't clarify, so we show up at 7 for the 8 pm show, assuming that was about when doors would open. Doors opened at EIGHT THIRTY and they would not let me sit down at all in this time. That's right. They made me stand for an hour and a half so I could sit down. 🙃

At this point, I am visibly fucked to all hell. Just in SO much pain, dizzy, unable to stand upright without help. Dad kept asking me if I just wanted to leave but I didn't want him to miss out, y'know?

They finally let us in. We ask where I can sit. There is... a language barrier, which is frustrating but I suppose understandable given the neighborhood. (Note: neither the employees of the venue nor the musical group (and their employees) spoke English well. And both groups spoke different languages lmao.) Finally we find someone who can help out and they say that all the tables that actually have a view of the stage are reserved, but there are some seats where I'll be able to see if I go

UP A FLIGHT OF STAIRS

so I guess even the people there who spoke English as a first language did not fucking understand what "disabled" meant!

I literally cannot stand anymore at this point, so we just find a bench as close to the stage as we can find and I collapse into it. It becomes immediately apparent that I will be seated behind a wall of standing people about 5-8 people deep and all I will be seeing during this show is asses. I try repeatedly to talk to someone about all this, but like. idk if it was just the language barrier or they didn't care, but I sure as hell was not helped.

The show didn't start for another hour and the whole time I am just. Staring. At this accessible table next to the stage that I'd be able to see from. It is roped off. No one is sitting there. It says reserved, but apparently this table was not sold because no one showed up.

I am staring daggers at this accessible table that they will not let disabled people sit at and I am tired and cranky and in massive amounts of pain and I think... something in me snapped...

anyway once the show started, I quietly walked over, undid the rope, and sat down. AND MY DAD STOOD BEHIND ME SO SECURITY WOULDN'T SEE WHAT I WAS DOING... s/o to a real one...

Near the end of the show this woman walks up with her drink, shakes the rope at me, and glares. But honestly, it is now 3 hours after the show was even supposed to begin, so if this was your table I don't feel bad about taking it. So I just. Look her dead in the eyes and I do not move.

I was kind of expecting to be thrown out of the venue at this point, I have "disability lawyer" open on google translate on my phone, and I am... honestly ready to just be a total bitch about this. Just. Make an enormous scene. I am at the end of my fucking rope.

(internally I was kind of like... what are they gonna do to me, ban me from the venue? oh no, what will I do without your shit-ass accessibility solutions?)

But I guess she figured it wasn't worth it to fight over the last 15-20 minutes of the show (or she had even less claim over the table than I did) so she just stood in front of me at first (wow, classy, stand directly in front of a visibly disabled woman) and then gave me the dirtiest look I have ever received when I just slid over to another seat at the table and had a better view than I already did. I was feeling brazen and angry at this point, who cares if they saw where I was sitting.

SO I GOT TO SEE THE SHOW. :')

Kind of an odd view of it, admittedly, but they were all over the stage so I still got to see them pretty well. They sang the songs I liked and covered some I wasn't expecting, so it was a fun show!! High energy. I enjoyed that part of it.

Today I'm in a shit-ton of pain (so much so that I woke up early, which is why I have time to write this before we pick up our friend at the airport and hit Nihonmachi for lunch) and kind of like ??? did I really just calmly walk into a reserved area, undo the ropes, and sit down???

but also no regrets, that venue fuckin sucked and I was this close to throwing hands with someone I'd never met so I guess this is the better option lmao

[l3viat8an]

I'm sorry in advance for making you work, and you can turn this into a 2 parts bit to make all the characters react if you want to ;^;

Thanks! Love you, Ro~ 😘

---

A sparing session with a loved one is always exhilarating. You get your blood pumping, the adrenaline rushing, a good workout, and if done with a partner, might lead into something more with all the sexual tension developing throughout.

That how they found themselves on a training ground, or to be more accurate, their girlfriend, May, dragged them their for that purpose. The brunette looks giddy as she skips to the wide array of weapons laid on a table before them, varying from daggers and swords to things more futuristic looking guns they never even saw before outside of media forums.

The nephilim lets her fingers glide amongst the wide variety of lethal artillery, humming to herself as she carefully analyzes and examines each piece finely crafted. Only to settle for a simple short sword. It's plain but has a strong leathery grip, and the blade seemed strong enough to cut skin, yet not sharp enough to pierce it. Perfect for her since she wanted to avoid hurting them at all cost.

Walking to the middle of the area, May gives the sword a few experimental swings and jab to get used to the weight and feel of her weapon. When she feels satisfied with her research, she turns to face the opponent and lover.

"Now," she starts, tying her hair up in a ponytail before pointing the tip of her blade in their direction, sending them a flirtatious wink, yet the smirk gracing her lips and the tone of her voice sounds taunting, "give me your best shot, Lover boy~"

Part one is hereeee!!! Ahhhhh you wouldn’t believe how excited I was for this!!! Hopefully I did May justice <333

“Lover boy?” Lucifer raises one eyebrows, echoing her words -and pretending the blush creeping up his cheeks wasn’t there- as he gives his own sword a few experimental swings, getting used to the weight and length.

Before moving, standing before May, “I hope you don’t think, I’ll go any easier on you just because of a simple term of endearment.” but being closer and seeing the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Lucifer knows she doesn’t. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She says

And he can see it’s quite the contrary in fact, she wants to get worked up, she wants to feel the rush~ well fine. Two really must play that game~ “Then begin!” Lucifer barks before moving again, going at May with a cut from above. Which she parries and counters easily enough, “Not bad.” Lucifer moves to strike again, this time ducking lower hoping to catch May off guard, but she simply steps back, “Wish I could say the same.” her tone is still lighter as she teases Lucifer.

This goes on for awhile the two are fairly well matched in their little ‘game’ and by a pure fluke (or a bit of planning~) May catches Lucifer off guard, moving in closer and faking a stab at his side, Lucifer moves to side step and ends up turning so his back is to her for a split second and May takes the opening moving forward and hold the tip of her sword against his spin. Lucifer freezes at the contact and holds his own sword down at his side “It seems you win this round, lover~” the last word is said softer then the rest as Lucifer turns to face May, seeing Lucifer’s hands still low at his sides, she lowers her sword, questioning “This round?” and raises one eyebrow, “Are we going again?-“ her question is cut off and quicker then she can blink, Lucifer’s sword arm moves and the very tip of his blade is resting just above her heart, “You could say that, lover~”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ me to let my guard down that easy!” Mammon swings first and it’s haphazard, a bit clumsy even, going wide and making him stumble forward a bit.

May simply takes a step back and grins, “Oh great Mammon, your form needs work.” May says throwing a few more jabs and swings of her sword in Mammon’s direction.

Nothing he can’t easily dodge or parry just yet- “Oi! That’s what we’re doing this for ain’t it? ‘sides I ain’t the one throwing the word lover around tryin’ to win!” he blushes even more, saying the word out loud and makes his first proper strike, almost catching May off guard. She raise her sword and blocks his blow almost at the last minute, “Keep your guard up darlin’ wouldn’t want ya gettin’ hurt now.” Mammon teases letting the fact he got in a one good swing go to his head. But he can back it up for a few minutes parrying and match May’s moves with his own, blocking almost all of her attempts to touch him with her sword only attack when he sees a clear opening, unfortunately for Mammon, May guards any openings as soon as he moves to strike blocking him in kind.

The match goes on like this until May doubles over and grabs her side as if she was hit, Mammon drops his weapon and makes his way to her side dropping to his knees and trying to see where she was hit, “Ya alright what hap- HUH?!” May moves now quickly, and holds her blade so the tip rests just in front of Mammon’s throat “I win~” she grins as Mammon’s faces goes bright red as he splutters out “O-only by cheatin’!! That’s dirty darlin’“ “Not at all! My side really did hurt for a moment.” May lowers her blade and reaches out her hand to help Mammon stand, he takes her hand and gives her arm a tug. She drops her weapon hands moving to brace her fall, -landing on Mammon chest- and the demon lets out a low chuckle, leaning forward so their noses almost touch, “Are ya sure about that~?”

Levi didn’t spar often, it simply wasn’t necessary anymore and he thought it was a waste of time.

But when, May had asked him….well how could he say no? So here he is red in the face yelling “What!?” And almost dropping his sword, having to grab it with both hands and take a few deep breaths.

“Hmm? Something wrong Leviachan~” May teased her voice light as she takes another step closer, as Levi takes a counter step back.

“Come on, Levi! Think of it as a game, you just have to beat me for a reward.” That seemed to help Levi, and his breathing evened out a bit as he grips his sword properly and taking a few steps forward, facing May, “Yea…..Fine, let’s spar and be done already.” Then he can go back his room- May swings first, it’s not as sharp a movement as it could be and Levi blocks it easily enough, moving to strike back immediately after her blow lands going for a cut from below and hoping to catch May off guard. But she sees his plan and blocks, taking a step towards Levi as she does so causing him to stumble back a few steps again. Sword hanging by his side, “Why are you?-“ Levi’s cut off as May swings again, going for his sword arm and he barely moves fast enough, taking a few steps to the side to avoid her blade before lifting his sword again and sticking back, causing May to take a few steps back and placing them back in the middle of the ring. “That’s better Leviachan! Show me what you can do!” May strikes again, but this time Levi’s ready completely dodging her attack and moving so he’s almost behind her as her swing goes just a little too wide, the cold metal of his blade on her back as he takes a few steps closer.

“I win.” Levi says like it’s the simplest thing ever and let’s his blade drop from her back.

May turns and locks eyes with the still blushing demon, “Not bad Levi, guess I owe you a reward. What do you want?” “What will you give me?” Levi counters a small smile tugging at his lips.

[notmaplemable]

Of Birds and Knights

Back in September I made a short joke about Ruby being a bird faunus and doing a mating dance to get Jaune's attention. In that time I've wrote out a little longer version of the story.

I'd like to thank @thatorigamiguy and @howlingday for adding some pretty great reblogs which really expanded the story of that original post. And of course inspiring me to make this.

So enjoy 3170 unedited words worth of me trying to be funny. It didn't work.

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

Ruby Rose was a bird faunus. Well, a hooded crow faunus if one wanted to be specific. Which wasn’t too bad. She got some cool wings and a tail with black and red tipped feathers. Which, yes, she could use to fly sometimes. She could whistle like a champ, and she could sing pretty well too. If one were so fortunate to catch her doing so. She’ll even coo if someone ran their hand through her hair, but she’ll take that secret to her grave.

Sure, there were some people who were a bit mean to her. Washing her wings could be a pain, sometimes literally. And having people come up to her asking for her to shake her tail feathers was a bit weird.

But overall, it wasn’t too bad to be a bird faunus. So, why was Ruby pacing on one of Beacon’s rooftops one morning?

Well, you see, she was having these dreams. No, no, no! Not those kind of dreams. Nothing filthy or anything like that. So, if they weren’t filthy then why were they such a concern to the girl? Well, the best way to explain would be to recount one of these dreams.

They would usually start with Ruby building a nest. Running around looking for cool sticks. Finding nice bits of, usually red, fabric to add. Putting in a few shiny things to bring it all together. Adding some pillows and blankets for some extra comfort. Completely normal things that she was sure every girl dreamed of!

Then he would show up and make it all weird.

The “he” being Beacon’s resident blond knight to be, and Ruby’s best boy friend, Jaune Arc.

At first, he would just lay down beside her. Then they would start touching each other. Cuddling, He would even pat Ruby’s head. Then they would start kissing and holding hands. Okay so maybe her dreams were filthy, but only a little bit.

As you can imagine, Ruby was a mess after she had this dream. She couldn’t even look at Jaune for most of that day without becoming a blushing mess. Much to Jaune’s confusion. Which didn’t go unnoticed by a certain sunny dragon.

The teasing. Oh gods, the teasing. It was merciless.

But eventually Ruby did get over her embarrassment. That was until she had the exact same dream that night, and for every night over the last few weeks.

Which brings us back to Ruby’s current crisis. Why was she having these dreams? For the first week the answer alluded her, but now it was clear as day. Even to someone as usually uninterested in the topic as Ruby.

Ruby Rose had a crush on Jaune Arc, and she had no idea what to do about it. She couldn’t ask Yang, for reasons that should be fairly obvious. Weiss… well she would just insult Jaune instead of helping. Blake would probably say to do something lewd. Nora had her own boy problems to overcome. And Pyrrha… well she wasn’t an option.

Ruby sat on the edge of the roof wondering what she was going to do. This wasn’t exactly her area of expertise. Why couldn’t this be simple, like making a weapon? Actually, maybe she could forge Jaune a sword? A dagger, maybe? Or maybe a sword that turned into a sniper and a rocket launcher! See that was simple. Love, not so much.

She stared down at the park her metaphorical perch overlooked.

Maybe she could bake him some cookies? Yeah, that was a good idea. Special “Will you pretty please go on a date with me” cookies. It just might work. But what kind of cookie did Jaune like? She couldn’t just make any type of cookie for him. It would have to be a type he loved. Nothing less would be acceptable.

But she couldn’t just go up to him and ask. “Hey Jaune, what kind of cookie do you love so much that you would fall in love with the girl who made them for you?” No, she would have to do some reconnaissance. Be all sneaky like. Maybe Blake could help her with that? She can be pretty sneaky when she wanted to be.

It was then that Ruby noticed something. The object of her current crisis, and affections, sitting on a bench below her. Feeding the birds. Spreading out bit of corn for the pigeons when he should be feeding Ruby corn!

Getting over her momentary corn-based jealousy, which is a normal feeling that normal people have, she came to a realization. Now would be the perfect time for some spying. She would just need to use a little trick that her father had taught her.

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

Jaune had just sit down in his favorite spot. It was in a quiet corner of Beacon’s courtyard. A few trees providing some nice shade. Though surprisingly few people came to this section. Which Jaune was more than happy to take advantage of. It was nice to have a quiet corner all to himself.

Sometimes it was hard to find some peace and quiet in his dorm. Nora would usually make sure of that. Jaune had come to see the energetic young girl as a true friend, but man, could she be a handful sometimes. He had no idea how Ren handled her. That man had the patience of several saints.

Even Pyrrha could be a bit distracting at times. Jaune understood that she liked to sleep naked. It can get pretty hot in those rooms sometimes. Really it wouldn’t be a problem if she didn’t toss and turn so much in her sleep, which would mean that her blanket usually ended up in the floor instead of covering her.

Which made it pretty hard for Jaune to get things done while she was taking a nap. Which she started taking a lot more of lately. How strange.

Jaune stared up at the sky for a few moments after taking a seat. It had been an interesting few months since he arrived at Beacon. He’d made some good friends. Killed a few grimm. Nobody knew about his transcripts besides his partner and Cardin. And he managed to not die yet. It was going great.

But it was stressful as hell.

Which is why he’d made a habit of coming out here to feed the birds, speaking of. Jaune pulled out a brown paper bag containing bits of dried corn and scattered them on the ground. And soon his feathered friends appeared. Well, most of them at least.

Ruby was probably off doing something with her team. He wouldn’t have minded her company. She always had a way of making things make sense for Jaune. Even if half of what she talked about involved pointy things or things exploding.

It was then that a bird perched itself on the bench next to Jaune. To say it wasn’t like the others was a bit of an understatement. Well for one, it was a crow. Second being its coloration. With black feathers that became red at the tips. Almost like Ruby’s actually. Well, isn’t that neat. Lastly it was staring at him. Not at the food, but at him. With little silver eyes.

Jaune did what he usually did with the birds. Offered some food. “Want some food, buddy.” He said to the crow before throwing another handful of corn onto the ground. Which the crow responded to with a quick caw and walking closer to Jaune. Eventually crawling up onto his lap.

“Do you want to be hand fed?” Jaune asked the crow, holding out another handful of corn. To which the crow responded with another caw before staring to peck at the corn kernels in his hand. He sat and watched the crow for a minute. It was strangely familiar.

“You know little guy, you kind of remind me of my friend Ruby.” He said, because normal people talk to strange birds, “Or well, I guess your coloration does. Black feathers with red tips. At least that’s what she has on her tail feathers. I’ve never actually seen her wings, but I would guess they have the same pattern.”

The crow stopped eating and returned to staring at Jaune as he carried on his rambling.

“Which I get. I mean with people like Cardin around it’s not she can go around just displaying them, but I guess it’s a bit weird not to have seen them. I don’t know. I bet they would be pretty, though. Well, she’s already pretty so I guess that would just make her prettier. Does that make sense?” He asked the crow.

The crow didn’t respond this time. Simply continuing to stare at Jaune.

“Guess it doesn’t really make-“ Jaune was interrupted by his scroll buzzing. “What is it this time. ‘Nora found the sap. All over the dorm.’ Welp, better go sort that out. See you later Red? Can I call you that?”

The crow again responded with a caw as Jaune sat up to leave. The crow standing on the back of the bench watching him go.

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

Ruby, still perched on the bench, watched Jaune walk away before flying back to her previous spot on the roof. She transformed back into her regular form and started pacing on the roof again.

“He said I was pretty,” She said still pacing back and forth, “Not cute. Not adorable. Pretty.”

Oh, Ruby was in trouble. Her plan had pretty much failed. She learned nothing about the kind of cookies he liked and just ended up all flustered.

“What am I going to do,” She said laying down on the rough surface of the roof, “Why can’t this just be easy. Why can’t I just say that I like him!” She screamed towards the heavens. No, it can’t just be that simple. She had to do something to make him notice her. To make him want to ask her out. That would be so much easier, but what?

She laid there thinking. “It has to be something that’ll work fast. Something awesome. Something that’ll make me irresistible.” She needed something. Anything! If only she had someone, she could ask that would actually be helpful. “If only…”

She paused. Maybe she did have someone that could help her. Someone that always gave her good advice. But asking her would be a drastic measure, but Ruby couldn’t risk Jaune falling for Pyrrha while Ruby was indecisive.

No, now was the time for drastic measures. So, Ruby would bring out the big guns.

She’d call her mom and ask for her advice. “Sorry Pyrrha,” Ruby said bringing up her mom’s number on her contact list “But that Arc booty is mine!”

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

Summer was enjoying the cool morning air while tending to her garden. She was still getting use to Yang and Ruby being gone, but she was getting through the days just fine.

Maybe she should start taking on missions again? Ozpin would probably be happy to have her back in the field. Though Qrow would probably have a much less positive reaction. Considering how close her last mission came to being the end of Summer Rose.

Summer’s scroll started to buzz. “It’s Ruby,” She said looking at the caller ID. “Hopefully RWBY isn’t in trouble again.” She said to herself before answering the call. “Hello Ruby.”

“Hi Mom,” Ruby said, “Do you have a minute to talk? I kind of need your help with something.”

“I’m just doing a little gardening, so I’ve got time to chat. What do you need help with?”

Ruby started fidgeting and rubbing her fingers against her cloak. A little nervous habit she picked up from her father. “Well, you see I… Well, I umm… I kind of…” She trailed off.

Oh, she was definitely nervous about something, but not the same kind of nervous she was when her team got up to something dangerous. She usually only acted like this when Yang would tease her about getting a boyfriend.

Wait, Summer’s mother senses were tingling and more importantly her grandmother senses! It was finally happening. Ruby likes a boy!

“You need help with a boy, don’t you?” Summer said, holding back her excitement for the moment.

“…Yes.” Ruby said sporting a healthy blush.

“Who is it, honey? That nice boy you met on your first day?” Summer said.

“Yeah, it’s Jaune.”

Jaune, from what Summer had heard about Ruby’s fellow team leader he was a perfect gentleman, if not that great of a fighter. Helping Ruby out on her first day like that. Almost like Qrow did with Summer all those years ago. And the fact that Summer was good friends with Jaune’s mother helped. Though it was a shame that they never had the opportunity to meet before they both went off to Beacon.

“Well, why don’t you tell me why you like him, rosebud.” Summer said, more than happy to do a little motherly snooping.

“Well, he’s really kind, and brave. He fought an ursa by himself once.” Ruby said in what was the beginning of what Summer sensed would be a long ramble. “He likes all the same comics I do. We play games together and stuff. He always helps me with my work for our leadership class. He doesn’t zone out when I talk about weapons, and he actually asks questions. He pays attention! And, well umm…” Ruby paused with her blush deepening.

“Go on.” Summer said. Trying to encourage her daughter.

“Well… he has a nice butt.”

That earned a rather hardy snort laugh out of Summer, and a rather disgruntled “Mom,” out of Ruby.

“Sorry dear,” Summer said wiping a tear from her eye, “Like mother like daughter, I guess. So, I’m guessing you called to ask for some advice?”

“Yeah, what am I supposed to do. Ask him out? I’d probably just end up running away if I tried.” Ruby said with a defeated look on her face.

“Honestly Ruby, I don’t know if I can really help you there. I spend three years following your father around before he noticed me. I wasn’t the one to ask him out.”

“Well, he definitely isn’t going to notice me. Pyrrha’s had a huge crush on him all year and if he doesn’t notice her… I don’t like my chances.”

“You’ll just have to do something to make him notice. That’s what I did.”

Ruby quirked an eyebrow “What did you do to make dad notice?”

“Well, you see, I did a mating dance.”

“A mating dance?”

“Yeah, since your father is a bird faunus I figured it would make him do, something. Either he would ask me out or he would turn me down, both were better options than me just pining after, and eventually losing, him.”

“That… That might work.” Ruby muttered to herself.

“What was that, dear. I couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh, I said thanks mom. I think I have an idea of what I should do now.”

“Well, that’s great. I hope it goes well, rosebud!”

“Thanks mom, I’ll talk to you later.”

And with that Ruby had a plan. To do a mating dance for Jaune. If she could work up the courage to try it that is.

If only love could be simple.

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

Today was the day. Either Ruby and Jaune would be dating after this, or they would just be best friends, but Ruby wouldn’t just let nothing happen. Or take the chance that Pyrrha wouldn’t make a move eventually. Nope. Today was the day.

So today Ruby was sitting on the bench that Jaune usually did when he fed the birds. Waiting for him to come. It wasn’t quite as private of a place as Ruby would have liked it to be, but it was about as private as she was going to get. So, there she waited until eventually her knight made an appearance.

“Ruby?” Jaune said surprised that anyone knew about his spot, “What are you doing out here? Don’t you usually spar with Weiss this time of day?”

“Yeah, usually.” She said, standing from the bench taking one last deep breath. “But I have something I want to show you. Something special.”

“Really? What is it?” He said.

It was now or never.

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Jaune was surprised when he found Ruby out here by herself. He was more surprised when she said she had something to show him. And even more so when she unfolded her wings in front of him. He’d admittedly never seen her wings, but he had to say they were quite beautiful.

When Ruby started dancing well Jaune was figuratively, and almost literally, knocked off his feet. First by the fact that it was Ruby of all people dancing. She rarely put herself front and center.

Second being the fluidity of her dance. Her movements fine and controlled as she spun and weaved her way around him. Her wings hiding and revealing parts of her as she moved. Her tailfeathers and hips moving side to side rhythmically. It was really quite something. And Jaune was mesmerized by it.

And lastly, a fact that became more and more apparent as she danced closer, was that she was dancing for him. Jaune couldn’t do or say anything. He was simply overwhelmed by that fact. A pretty girl was dancing for him. His best friend, or perhaps they were more than that?

Finally, Ruby’s dance came to an end as she wrapped Jaune in her wings and looked into his eyes. Her face was as red as her cloak, she was breathing hard, but there was determination in her beautiful silver eyes. “So, did you like my mating dance.” She asked.

“Mating dance?” He said quirking his head to the side. Mating dance. So did that mean she wanted to… “Wait, does that mean you want me to be your mate?”

“Yeah! Though you can say we’re boyfriend and girlfriend if you prefer that.” She said still staring into his eyes.

She wanted to be his girlfriend. She wanted him to be his boyfriend. Or mates, or whatever.

“…Yes, I’ll be your mate.”

“Really!” She said with a squeak.

“Yeah,” he said wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Great.” She said laying her head against his chest. “Well, as my boyfriend do you think you could do a little favor for me?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Can you carry me back to my room,” She said her face turning several shades redder, “That was actually really, really, really, embarrassing.”

So, with that Jaune picked up his new “mate” and they headed off to her room.

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

Jaune and Ruby laid in their “nest”, the nest being Ruby’s bed with a ring of blankets and pillows around them. Ruby was fast asleep cuddled up next to Jaune. Softly cooing as he ran his fingers through her feather soft hair.

This wasn’t exactly how Jaune thought he would get his first girlfriend, but he couldn’t say that he would have it any other way.

[acourtofthought]

I know I shouldn't let anyone sway my opinion about characters but I think you're one of the few people that make me like elain. I was fairly indifferent when I first read the series for the first time and just waiting for her book before making any real judgements, but she's been so thoroughly butchered by e/riels that I haven't liked her for a good long while. Your meta and genuine love of her character is so refreshing and one of the few things that keep me sane in this wacky fandom for real.

I love messages like this ❤️

And I agree, Elain's character is probably the most twisted of any character across the board. Some turn her into a completely unrecognizable version of herself where she's basically a carbon copy of Feyre / Nesta even though we're continually told she's different. They call her Kingslayer and have her wearing tattoos strapped to her thigh in Illyrian leathers though she herself did not want credit for killing the King, did not want to wear the leathers and gave the dagger back (without looking back). To me that all means that through SJM, we're told Elain is choosing a different life for herself. Some claim "well Nesta didn't want to train either" but they miss how despite Nesta's words, everything hinted that being the direction she was going. "Why do I need to train at all?" yet she turns around and wears the leathers. She turns around and takes a dagger with no fuss. Rhys tells us that Elain is Elain but Nesta is Illyrian at heart. Nesta walked over and cut off the kings head BEFORE her book (violent, right?) while as of SF, cruelty still bothers Elain. Elain stabbed the king to stop him from hurting her sister but she didn't have that loathing in her heart the way Nesta did, the way that made Nesta want to make him suffer and cause it to be as bloody and violent as possible. Some think that just because Rhys tells us Elain is ready to get her hands dirty that equals violence but they are two completely different things. There's a way to be involved without having to torture and wield weapons, without having to hurt others.

Then there's those that have turned her into a villain who deserves to be killed off even though SJM has confirmed numerous times on numerous occasions that Elain will have her own book (and she doesn't give villains books). That Elain has a similar energy to SJM herself. Others still think she's the exact same as SJM wrote her in book 1 when she initially thought the sisters would be the stereotypical antagonistic (step)sisters from a fairytale though she's done a complete 180 since ACOTAR when Feyre once said that it probably never occurred to Elain that she could get her hands dirty. But here we are as of SF having Elain offer to search for the Trove when even Nesta was too scared to do it. Where we have Elain putting Nesta in her place for thinking she gets to tell Elain what she's allowed to do with her own body. Where even after that, we see her laughing hysterically when Nesta tells her to fuck off. She's now got FMC energy without coming off as being too much a part of the IC (if SJM wrote it where she was so valuable and involved, we wouldn't be picking up on the clues that she's meant to end up elsewhere).

She learns from her past mistakes, accepts blame for her part in things, and she doesn't hold grudges but is now someone who can call someone out when they're they're wrong, then moves on.

"Moves on". That's another thing that bothers me about E/riels. Az told her she was a mistake and she returned his necklace (a strong message) yet they think she's still secretly harboring feelings for him and pining for him. The guy called her a mistake with no explanation (he said this BEFORE he spoke to Rhys, not after), yet they think Elain is sneaking around having some sort of forbidden romance with him? After Solstice and after Rhys and Feyre almost died?! Az has not done right by Elain. He was unwilling to tell Rhys that he was over Mor for Elain. He was unwilling to say anything he liked about her to Rhys. He had no plans for how he might actually be with Elain considering his thoughts of her hadn't gone further than his sexual fantasies. He couldn't convince Rhys he didn't just want her for sex. He said that if he returned to the River House and did something with her it would be something he'd regret (yes, because a girl always feels awesome when a guy regrets being with her). That's the kind of guy they think Elain should be with? To me, they don't like Elain all that much if that's the case.

In general, I think a lot of who Elain is goes unnoticed because she's got such a quiet way of dealing with things but it takes an incredible amount of maturity to not blame others for the bad things that happen to you and I love that about Elain.

She probably lost the most when she was made because she really loved her life in the human lands and was in love while neither Feyre or Nesta cared all that much about the people there yet not once did she blame Feyre the way Nesta did. Not once did she blame Nesta for not protecting her though Nesta beat herself up over not being able to do anything. And while she once told Lucien, "you betrayed us", to which he replies that it was a mistake, she turned around and invited him to come live in Velaris after the war. Also, she loved her father more than Feyre or Nesta ever did yet again, she never blamed anyone but the King for what happened. Maybe we'll come to find she harbors her own guilt over it when she gets her POV but she's not taking it out on anyone.

She's quietly but steadily been growing since book 1 but it's consistent and really noticeable if you pay her character attention. She hasn't even had her book yet she's evolved so much, I really look forward to her "final" transformation and I think she's ready. Amren said she's ready, Rhys said she's ready. Feyre, difficult as it was to ask Elain to put herself in danger, did so in SF and also said they'd be helping her after helping Nesta. Now we just have to see it happen in her own book, something that finally gets her out of the NC so she can finally find where she's meant to be and with the people who will help push her the rest of the way.

[shivunin]

*chinhands* for the codex prompts - how about #4 for both Wen and Maria?

Hi, Lilou! Thank you for the prompts <3 I am going to do the second one on its own for organizational reasons, but I will tag you c:

Here is 4. a letter from your OC to their love interest for Wen

(Codex Prompt List)

A thoroughly creased letter tucked into an inner vest pocket. Its envelope has been lost. 

Zev,

Wonderful news: Princess has had hatchlings! I’ve not named them all yet, as I feel their nature should show first. Also, they are difficult to tell apart. Sigrun informs me that there is a sort of paint that one might use to mark each of them, so I’ve sent people to Orzammar to look into the compounds she mentioned. I like the idea of painting Princess, too. I have included the design I’m thinking of and welcome your thoughts. 

The season is gloomy on the coast. I don’t remember it raining this much in Denerim, and it’s made my temper short. Yes, shorter, I can all but hear you saying it. Don’t laugh. My bedroom feels awfully empty when I can’t go outside. There. I’ve said it. 

I found a cave the last time I walked up the coast. It seems as if it’s been empty for a long time and the two I asked said they’d never heard of it. I want to go there together when you come back. I miss exploring with you, and I’m due a week or more away. The rest of this lot can manage well enough for a while without me. We could camp in the cave, swim in the bay…and if we get bored I understand that there is a fairly well-known bandit encampment nearby. 

I miss you. Maybe I’ve said that already. I trust you not to repeat it, though I will allow for any teasing you mean to do about it. 

About the blade I sent along with this—it was forged of some dragon things. I don’t remember the particulars. That odd smith made it for me and I don’t like the weight, but I recall you prefer forward-heavy daggers and I thought of you. It’s supposed to be nearly unbreakable, he said. Also I asked him to remake the pin. It was wrong before, but it’s stronger now, I think. 

I think that’s enough for one letter. I wonder if you miss me as I miss you. If so, I think if you close your eyes somewhere quiet and think very hard about me, it will be almost like I am there, too. Not that this is something I would try. I’ve just heard it might help.

Goodbye.

Love, 

Arianwen 

P.S. If you want to name one of the spiders, you will need to send me a name soon or they will all be taken. Nate says that one of them ought to be named Oghren and I’d rather tell him you named them already than talk about it more. The two of them drive me mad.

[cryinginsidebecauseofbrutasha]

Day 12: Natasha gets bad news

Natasha and Bruce were having a good time in the lab, redesigning her suit.

Suddenly, the glass doors rattled and Tony came barrelling through, making a mess everywhere. “Pep called in sick!” he shrieked. “I have no one to bring to the charity thing tonight!”

Natasha looked at Tony’s display amusedly. “And why does that concern us, Stark?”

“I’m here to collect on your debt!” the billionaire declared. “You owe me, Romanoff. You're also still my employee.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “This wasn’t in the job description. Are you sure you need a plus-one?” she asked. “I’m sure you can—”

“— I need you!” Tony wailed.

“What happened to ‘I don’t give a shit about the media’, Tones?” Bruce asked from beside her.

Tony sighed. “Please, Natty?” he asked. “I’ll give you a house.”

Natasha shook her head, smiling. “Depends on the kind of house, Stark,” she mused. “Beachside? Not so much. Somewhere remote on a big forested island though…” she trailed off, glancing at the scientist beside her. “Lots of running ground.”

“Done!” Tony snapped his fingers. “One remote, big forested, island-ed, lots-of-running-ground house coming right up.” He paused and looked between the two. “I assume you want high, presumably 12-foot ceilings?”

Natasha nodded. “Where’s this party?” she sighed, grabbing a pen and paper. “And dress code?”

-

Nat turned in a circle, frowning at herself in the mirror. “This doesn’t feel right,” she complained.

Maria sat on her bed, sipping a glass of wine. “You look fine,” her friend said. “And I made sure you can still kick ass without flashing anyone. Now put on the necklace.”

Natasha sighed as she slipped the delicate gold chain around her neck. It was a gift from Bruce, a necklace with a green pendant hanging. It brought out her eyes, the scientist had said.

“Phone?” Maria called as Nat went into the bathroom.

“Got it.”

“Purse?”

“Check.”

“Gun?”

Natasha poked her head out of the bathroom. “No firearms,” she sighed. She perked up. “I’m bringing knives. Five throwing ones and a dagger.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Is that why you wanted the–”

“Yeah.” Nat walked out of the bathroom via the walk-in closet holding two pairs of shoes. “Stilettos or platform?”

Her friend glanced between the two. “Stilettos for extra weapons, platforms for better balance.”

“Stilettos it is.” Natasha pulled on her shoes, grabbed her purse, her jacket, her phone, her keys, and turned to Maria. “Call if anything happens. God knows I need a reason to skip out on this stupid party,” she muttered.

Natasha met Tony at the elevator.

“You look nice,” he said.

“Thanks,” she sighed. “You clean up well. You don’t look like you were wasted this morning at all.”

“Brucie helped.”

The scientist in question came rushing down the hall and stopped in front of Nat. “Hey,” he panted. “Good. I caught you.”

“Are you okay, doc?” Natasha asked amusedly. “You need to breathe? I’m happy to be late to this party.”

Bruce waved her off. “I’m fine.” He straightened. “Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Nat put a hand on her chest in jest. “Will I ever see you again?” she said.

The scientist chuckled. “Hopefully.” He glanced at his watch. “If you stall any longer, you will actually be late. So you two should get going. But hey, text if you need anything,” Bruce said. He smiled and let them get into the elevator and waved as the doors closed.

Natasha and Tony got into the car.

“Is it okay if we got cheeseburgers on the way?” the billionaire asked Happy. “Please?”

“There’s food at the party,” the man said.

“But I want cheeseburgers!”

They got cheeseburgers.

Natasha slipped her phone out of her purse and sent a text to Bruce.

Tasha: It’s been seven and a half minutes since we left and we are getting cheeseburgers.

Bruce answered fairly quickly.

Bruce: That sounds fun

Bruce: Wait for it. Tony’s going to spill ketchup on himself

“Aw, geez!”

Nat glanced to her right and sighed.

Tasha: You were right

Tasha: Not five seconds later

Bruce: I don’t know how to feel about my knowing Tony this well

Natasha smiled.

Tasha: Call it long-term babysitting

Bruce: That’s funny

Bruce: I’ll tell Pepper later she’ll appreciate this

Tasha: Have you seen her?

Bruce: She stopped in after you left

Nat rolled her eyes.

Tasha: Of course

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth texting, Natasha looked up when Happy knocked on the divider.

“We’re here,” the man called. “Prepare to get off in a minute.”

Natasha sighed and typed out her last message.

Tasha: Banner, get me out of here

Bruce: Have fun

Tasha: I’m serious

Bruce: Good luck

Tasha: When I get back, I’m going to kill you

Bruce: Get in line

Nat scoffed.

Tasha: Fine

Tasha: I look forward to my vengeance

Bruce: I look forward to feeling your vengeance

Natasha huffed an annoyed laugh and got out of the car into what she later called the worst party of her life.

[knighteclipsed]

♡ dont feel obligated to answer this ajlks

this was put in my askbox last may. anyways.

send me a ♡ and i'll make up a fankid (informal reopening of the box)

long as fuck post oops

Profile

Name: Aphina

Gender: F (cis, she/her)

Class: Assassin -> Unique Class

A pleasant individual to be around, save the occasional dark gleam in her eye. Whenever it's pointed out, however, she tends to brush it off. A girl with short hair in a family of long-haired men.

Appearance and Personality

Middling in height with naturally long hair, she cuts those locks to mid-length as a way of distinguishing herself from her family. Definitely has some of the curliest hair of her folks though, and Kano had to fight her hair color to keep it from making her look like a morph with those golden eyes.

Her brand, like her older brother's is located on her neck, but it's actually high enough that her collar doesn't hide it. She doesn't really care though since it's on the back specifically—if someone catches a glimpse of it, what are they going to do about it? This is precisely what's she been trained for; Aphina isn't afraid of anyone.

Generally tries to appear unassuming at first glance, but she's inherited the act of keeping a bit of distance from her peers. Doesn't share Valter's aversion to vulnerability at least. Far from an open book (especially when it comes to the topic of her past), but she has faith in other people. (What a dangerous thing to have.)

But next: she's a charming gal! Warm smiles and always seems to say the right things, easily getting what she wants from other people. Aphina learned the art of manipulation when she was rather young, though it never quite worked on her fathers. (Sephiran would play along, at least; Valter was not so kind in that regard.) Quickly became dangerously good though—in less questionable circumstances, perhaps this would've been hindered rather than fostered.

Despite her friendly disposition, she spends a lot of her time in solitude, citing that it helps her focus when she trains. In actuality, she's just a massive introvert, but such an admission feels to her like it would break her well-crafted facade.

History

Much like her older brother, she learned to be wary and cautious of others. Unlike him, however, she never quite internalized them; Aphina was always a fairly observant child, and she sought to question them and their validity before thinking to take them to heart. Fatally, a stranger once showed her an act of kindness while she was young, and while she does not remember exactly what it was, she does remember the feeling—and with that recollection, she resolved that her parents were wrong.

Kept that thought much to herself though, of course, instead fighting those ideas quietly. This is what led to her routinely cutting her hair, and though she still spent much time with her family, she also spent a great deal of time alone.

Combat

In her silent rebellion, she refused to take up her fathers' weapons, instead taking up daggers and anima magic. Though she'll primarily use blades in combat, she won't squander a victory simply to preserve the wild card that is her magical abilities.

Adding on: those who recall her cheerful and positive demeanor would notice an immediate shift once combat begins: this is because she realized once when she was younger that she liked to hurt others, and to avoid the consequences of such an indulgence, Aphina instead chooses to shut off her emotions when fighting. Though it mostly works, some can note an odd gleam in her eye as she fights, as though dealing with an ancient curse.

Aside from fighting on the front lines, she also functions as a bit of a tactician. By getting to know her allies so intimately, she can better judge their aptitudes and relations to others, and thus use that to secure a victory.

Summary

Though she recognizes that there are people with bad intentions, she also wants to believe that there are some who can be good as well. As such, she begins encounters with strangers by determining as quickly as she can what their values are—what it is they believe and how far they will take those ideas.

Following that train of thought: the map where Aphina is recruited would have her posing as a helpless civilian in the midst of a battle between the lord's army and an enemy force (could be people, could be monsters). While she would be completely willing to take injuries herself, if any harm befalls any of the actual villagers, she'll reveal her capabilities and take care of it herself, locking off the ability to recruit her.

Following a successful recruitment: she feels no remorse about having to fight her fathers. While Aphina isn't confident that she could beat both of them (or even just one) alone, if she had to face them in combat, she would still give it her absolute all. Unique quotes against both, but no consequences for her dealing the final blow save for some unique death dialogue. Only has platonic paired endings. Completely content to go it alone.

[peppermintquartz]

Today while I was in the middle of wrapping books in clear plastic (I'm a school librarian), I thought, I'm a failure.

What achievements have I to show for forty years on this planet? I have friends and a family that I love and love me. I have three fairly well-behaved cats. I have an apartment with my partner.

But I'm nothing much more than a dreamer, hoping to make it big as a writer. Yet all I have written is a novel and several assessment books (basically, students will use the exercises and drills within to assess themselves, or more likely, home tutors will use the books to give students more homework) and a lot of fanfic.

Nothing that shouts "AK is a runaway success!!"

And I was thinking, how good and easy life would be if I could be satisfied with a life without an imagination. I would keep doing the full-time job I previously had, and by now I'd probably be middle management if I'd stayed the course. I would be tired but I wouldn't have anything else to do but my work anyway. No dreams of anything other than taking holidays during the school holidays.

Just a simple life, doing simple tasks, going through a routine week in week out.

An imagination is a burden in a world that doesn't value it. I mean, look around. What future does a storyteller have? I have nothing to look forward to. Better to go back to my old job and just. Give up on creating.

Just be a dutiful contributor to the machine.

Just.

Exist.

And then I put on my music. Songs of mourning the past came up first. Songs of missing someone.

I imagined I was saying goodbye to the Me that wants to be a professional writer. The Me who has always known that she is meant to tell stories. I imagined letting that version of Me go, away towards a distant horizon.

Goodbye. It was nice knowing you and loving you for a while.

When I was wallowing in the worst of my feels, Beyond came up in my playlist. I sang along, because of course you sing along to Beyond when they come up on your playlist, and one of the lines in the chorus suddenly hit me like a sack of hammers.

"Turning back on your dreams/is something anyone can do"

I cracked. I broke. I shattered.

Who was I trying to fool?

There is no way. There is no way I can let go of the Me that creates entire worlds out of nothing but thought. I can as soon remove my own brain in its entirety. I can as soon distill my soul into a beaker and weigh it.

I am fortunate. I know my purpose. I'm here to share stories, in whatever way and form I can. And even if my purpose won't give me fame or fortune, I am not searching for a reason to live; I have one.

I have the second part of Rilt's story to tell. Liria's schemes have yet to unfold fully. Dessa has yet to find her power. Galena hasn't got married.

Saki will have to start the hunt for her twin's daughter. Ma'irei needs to meet the love of his life. Arrow has yet to repay his life debt. The Marat have yet to make their presence known.

Leng Xiang has not avenged her son. Du Kuang has not found forgiveness. Situ Mengjian needs to see the truth about the man he loves.

Li Xiuying has yet to come up with her harebrained scheme to swap places with her best friend at a crucial juncture. The Changs need to reconcile. Su Yuming and Qiu Yannan have a standing appointment. Mei and Song have to find their new loves.

Who else but me knows about the soul-deep bond between Zerrul and Deel? The fate of Evvas Alwyth? Why Kirzan is determined to plow ahead with his stupid plan? Why is Dagger loyal? Why does Wolvam choose to take on such a burden?

I hold all these worlds and all these people within me. I have a duty.

[coelii]

The Rope

This is a creative writing short story I wrote back in college. My professor and the class enjoyed the character Drew and praised the dialogue while critiquing the exposition as a bit more stilted and reading a bit like [stage directions]. Either way I thought it might be neat to share because even if it’s not great I’m still proud of writing it.

(cw: suicide and depression)

___________

The rope feels scratchy around my neck. Like a sweater hand knitted by the grandmother you never see and rarely think about, but is still altogether there and real and cares enough to make sure you don't get too damn cold this winter. Or maybe it's more like a shirt collar one size too small because you can't stop shoveling garbage in your mouth for one second long enough to keep your neck from bulging out and your eyelids from getting fat and now the thought of having to wear a tie is worse than the noose that's presently around my neck.

I suppose soon enough I'll no longer need to worry about these tiny daggers of frayed yarn violently scoring the surface of my skin with invisible marks. I’m fairly certain that I’ve measured it out perfectly, and the pipe fixture above has already been tested to hold my weight so I shouldn't be failing this time. As the wooden chair I’m standing on starts to wobble, I’m reminded that the damn fourth leg was always just a little shorter than the rest. Just one of many things I never got to fix before I’ll be gone. And yet, despite the uneven terrain, the added height does give me a good vantage point to assess my shitty studio apartment for the last time. With its tan walls and hardwood floors with no carpet. A white ceiling with enough rain spots from leaks to leave it speckled brown like shit stains in a pair of briefs. Aside from this unsteady chair I’m realizing there’s no other furniture save the futon that doubles as my bed. Empty space gone to waste. Empty air of no use to anyone save me for the next few minutes. I can hear the sink dripping, and there’s a fly somewhere in the room, but I can’t pinpoint where. I won’t be missing any of this at all.

I’m aware that I’ve been absentmindedly playing with the box in my hand for the last few minutes. A small velvet jewelry box. It was my grandmother's. Not the one who knitted me a sweater, she died a long time ago, but the one on my father's side of the family. As her only male grandchild I inherited the ring that brought her “all the happiness she could ever have wished for in this world.” Stealing one last look at the ring inside, I toss it into the corner of the room. Yet another forgotten corner of the room.

Well, now’s as good a time as any. I ready my foot to kick out the chair when...

“Hey Eric, door was open hope you don’t mind...”

An infestation of light from the hallway pours in through the open front door and a familiar

silhouette steps past the frame. He looks me up and down, sighs, and closes the door. It’s Drew. Fuck.

“Mind if I grab a beer?” he asks, wandering into my kitchen anyway without removing his shoes.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Just popping in, wondered if you wanted to go out,” he yells accompanied by the sound of clinking bottles. “Clearly we’re gonna stay in though.”

“Get out!” I yell, “fuck off and leave me alone.”

“Nah, I’m probably not going anywhere.” Drew declares, reappearing from the kitchen. He gives me one last look up and down and shakes his head.

“Fuck off!” I say again.

Drew opens one of my beers and throws the cap into the trash. The way he’s swaggering

over to the couch pisses me off. As he plops himself down he reminds me of a king lazily sitting atop his throne.

“So what’s up?” Drew asks.

I quickly decide that i’m not going to answer that. As the minutes pass without either of us saying a word Drew continues sipping down his beer in a steady rhythm and is soon dry and back to my fridge for another.

“So why hanging?” He asks, arriving back to his throne. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Drew asks in between sips.

“IstThat not good enough?” I spit back.

“Well, I dunno, I mean there’s lots of ways to do this; I was wondering why you chose this one,” he pauses and plays with the bottle, swirling the beer around. “I know you never do something without a reason.”

I think for a moment. “I dunno, it seems the most reliable. I thought about pills first, but the more I read the more I found that they rarely work and if you fail it ruins your intestines and that’s a horrible way to keep living.”

“What about a gun?” Drew asks, pantomiming a pistol with his hands and firing it at my head.

“No, if you fail that then you might end up a vegetable or lose a large portion of your brain and you have to wear a piss bag the rest of your life because you can’t control your bladder.”

“Wrists?” Again Drew mimics the act.

I shake my head and again scratch my neck with the rope. “Least reliable so far, that’s a cry for help. You have to cut really deep and not pussy out. I want to die; I don’t want to be saved.”

“Well damn, you have this all figured out then I see.” Drew takes another sip of his beer. It must be warm by now. Warm beer is shit, he should know this by now, I’ve told him enough times.

“So why haven’t you done it yet?” he asks.

“I would if you would just fucking leave,” I reply.

“Nah, I feel pretty comfortable right now,” he says from his throne, looking around the room

as if he’s assessing his kingdom of shit. “So why are you offing yourself?” “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“You’ve never loved.”

“I have,” Drew says nodding. “I own a cat.”

“That’s not love.”

“Fuck you, I love my cat.”

He doesn’t get it. No one gets it. Drew fucks teenagers who can’t buy beer yet. I just want

him to leave so I can do this. I need to do this to end this pain in my chest. I don’t want this anymore. “Emily isn’t worth this,” Drew says.

“Emily is worth everything,” I respond, glaring at him.

“Nah, she’s a bitch.”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! I loved her, you don’t love anyone.”

“Yeah, maybe” he replies. “I do fuck barely legals cause they don’t know any better, but I can tell you right now no bitch is worth this.”

“She is not a bitch.”

“You mean you’re gonna argue that shit with me? Look at you,” he points to the rope. “Look what you’ve degenerated to. You’re the smartest idiot that I know. You’re cold and calculating and rational, and yet you’re doing the most emotional, random, impulsive act right now.”

“This isn’t her fault,” I say looking away.

“Then why are you doing this?”

I don’t say anything for several minutes. Drew doesn’t complain. His beer is empty, but he

remains on the futon.

“Emily was my world.” I mumble, afraid my words might escape the room and betray me. “She was the girl I wanted to spend my entire pathetic human existence with.”

Drew says nothing. I expected him to laugh. He knew I was overly romantic. I still remember how hard he laughed when I wrote her that poem one word at a time on little squares of paper and asked him if he would. Sappy bullshit he called it.

“Remember that time we broke her coffee table?” Drew says.

“Yeah,” I say, a little shocked he remembers.

“Man she was pissed,” he says not really looking at me, not really looking at anything in

particular.

I remember it clearly. It was soon after Emily and I met in college. Drew and I were fucking

around and should have been more careful. I fell into it and shattered the glass, cutting my head pretty deep in the process. She drove me right to the emergency room. She was never mad about the broken table, never asked me to replace it. Emily was so worried about me, nothing else even mattered.

Suddenly a flood of memories started to come back now that Drew brought up that damn coffee table. I thought about the time I locked my keys in the car and she ran three miles to me with the spare just so I wouldn’t miss my interview, or how when my parents died in that car wreck she was there for me; that one girl who was always there for me, when I dropped out of college because it wasn’t for me, when I lost my job and she let me move in. I thought about the first time we kissed and how she told me it felt like planets colliding in space and how years later she told me we should grow old together. I thought about how my mother’s engagement ring was upside down in a little velvet jewelry box in the corner of the goddamn room.

“She cheated on you, man.” Again Drew speaks up.

“Maybe,” I reply. “I never caught her.”

“Sarah told you so,” Drew sighs. “When a girl betrays her best friend like that it has to be

true.”

He says it like I don’t fucking remember. Sarah was a mutual friend who three months ago

told me Emily was spending a lot of time with another guy. I’m not the jealous type, but this was her ex. When I confronted her she told me nothing was happening. The friend disagreed, she knew what was happening, the friend always knows. We had a fight, she didn’t come home, spent that night with the ex I assume. The next day, we tried to work it all out, but she said I was smothering and controlling. I told her I didn’t know who she was anymore. A week later, a fight later, she told me to move out. She hated Drew, she hated me. She wished she had never dated me, never met me. I showed her the ring, she started to cry, told me to take off my rose-colored glasses and look around. Then I broke something, I don’t remember what, called her a bitch no doubt. So I moved out, found a grimy studio and tried to forget.

By now my feet are getting tired. I want to sit down. I still want to hang myself. The pit in my stomach is growing deeper. I hear the fly again, but I can’t tell from where. The knot in my stomach is almost as tight as the rope on my neck. Drew still wants an answer on why the hell I’m up here.

“I think about suicide a lot.” I finally say.

“You and the rest of the world,” Drew responds.

“No, you don’t understand. I think about it all the time,” I sigh. “Every single time something

bad happens. Every time I got a bad grade in school. Every time a girl broke up with me. That time I got the speeding ticket for going 50 in a residential. Every time something even remotely bad happens, I want to kill myself.”

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” Drew asks. “Because that’s not logical right?”

“It’s not logical,” I repeat. “Why is it other people can have bad shit happen and brush it off, and when it happens to me I just want to fucking die.”

Drew doesn’t say anything this time.

“Why can other people lose the love of their life and brush it off and deal with it, and I can’t? Why can’t I accept failure in any degree without wanting to commit hara-kiri like some dishonored Japanese fucking samurai?”

Drew still says nothing. He’s letting me go on.

“I want it to stop. It is so fucking hard to do this every single day.” My voice cracks. “To fight this every single day of my life. I am so sick, I am so sick and fucking tired of this.” I grab the rope and shake it. “This right fucking here, I am so goddamn sick of this shit!”

A few tears drop to the floor. I stare at Drew, but he remains silent for another minute or two. “If you wanted to die,” he says finally. “You’d have done it already.”

“I am,” I say. “Right now.”

“Then do it.”

“I won’t do it while you’re here.”

“Why not,” he shrugs. “I won’t stop you. I’m too good of a friend to cut you down.” “But you won’t do it,” he goes on. “You don’t really want to. You didn’t choose the best

method like you thought, you chose the most dramatic. You left the door unlocked, hoping she might come in and see you, not me. Your mind works against you though. You know I know you’re depressed, that I always come over Tuesdays to drag you out of your dungeon and make you play pool with me. Yet you chose Tuesday night? You’re either a fucking retard, or you wanted to be stopped.”

“But here’s the kicker,” he finally stands up from his throne. “I’m not here to talk you out of it. I’m going to put this bottle in the sink and walk out of this apartment and go down the street to play pool. I’m going to buy a pitcher and grab two cups and if you don’t show you know I’ll drink it all. If you want to fucking die, you go right ahead, but you’ve made it twenty five years already just fine. Life only gets harder, so keep that in mind. If you want to stop worrying about killing yourself there’s a magical thing called antidepressants. If you want to get over Emily, there’s a magical thing called young naïve girls. If you want to be happy, well tell me how to do it because my life sucks too. And if you want to feel better then take that stupid rope off your neck and get the fuck down because you look goddamn ridiculous.”

Drew then walks to the sink and drops off the bottle. Just as he opens the door to leave he turns around and looks back at me.

“You know, I only see you a few days a week anymore and I’m already sick of your bullshit. Emily saw it every day. It must have been hell living with that.”

And with that, Drew was gone.

I stand, thinking for what feels like forever.

I think about Emily. I think about her reddish-brown hair and the way she used to smell. She

was a terrific fuck, her ex must have thought so too. She cheated on me and Drew was right, that made her a bitch, but I must have been tough to live with; a guy who lets every little failure rule his entire life. I know that welfare runs out, my parents are dead and I have no one else to rely on right now. I think about how fucking tan my surroundings are. I think about how my faucet is still leaking, how this chair could fall apart any second and how I still don’t know where that fly is. Then I think about Drew.

I reach up and grab the rope.

I slip it off my neck.

I get down from the chair, grab my jacket, and head down the street to play pool.

[ironeaterfinya]

Final Fantasy XIV: Penniless Peril

or: Can you beat FFXIV without spending any Currency? Part 3 - Putting my Name in the Goblet of Fire

Happy new year everyone and sorry for the delay. I am running this challenge as a side thing whenever I have time or I am not distracted by my main or other games. Nontheless here is our New Year Fortune for Ninisa this year:

“Small Fortune” I count that as a good Omen

However we have a lot to do and a lot of it is honestly just straight up wwalking back and fourth a lot.

Leaving the Inn after a few weeks led me to this image

I accidentally stumbled upon an RP event. From what I could gather it was an Auction for... something. I didn’t stick around. Mostly because I couldn’t spend any money anyway but it’s fun to see that there are RP Events on Zodiark to begin with. Even if it is a rare thing.

After doing the quest the Shining Gentlemen to my left was asking me to do, we beat up some merchant trying to pin a crime on a refugee. We beat up his people and Thancred comes around, officially inviting us to be part of his gang.

You see the Tickets? Those are Vesper Bay Teleport Tickets and I will be using them quite often. Mostly to shorten Travel time because god forbid I run back and forth that much. It’s honestly kind of weird seeing the peeps like this, whith half of the later core group still missing.

Also this bloke was making himself even taller, trying to intimidate the only to Lalas in here.

Nontheless I am making my way to Vesper Bay, on foot, for the first and propably last time. When I arrive there I am greeted by the best Scion:

Is this an Intervention?

Everyone introduces themself and I am taken aback by the fact that Urianger had a different VA at the time. (I am playing with German voices and the VA here are a bit more consistent)

We also get to see all the other Scions chilling out in the meeting hall.

Here is a funfact: Most named NPCs here that are not part of the Core Group (excluding Brendt) all appeared in 1.X of FFXIV. 

Also our quest is sending us to Camp Drybone where we are supposed to investigate missing people and also corpses. We also meet a familiar face:

Sure thing “Marquez”, we help you bury a body.

After that, the quests are literally just “Investigate this person by talking to them and go back to Vesper Bay.”

I also got to dress up as a homeless person.

After you arrived there, there is usually some more talk and you get send of again to Camp Drybone or you put Materia into Minphilias Dagger. However that step is actually free as well so thankfully I don’t have to do that myself.

If you only knew how useless you are to me.

Mind you a trip to Camp Drybone takes about 7 minutes on foot. I can’t teleport afterall, nor can I use Chocobo Porters.

Here is a video where I walk all the way over. https://youtu.be/GEr9vILtquY After we get our butt kicked by the Ifrit Gang, we get thrown into a small sub area which is honestly kind of funny. With the help of my boyfriends alt we can show that this area is located in Southern Thanalan, it just happens to be underground.

Wild.

Ifrit was also pretty wild.

It’s cool that I get to run it with trusts.

After heading back to Vesper Bay we are promptly assaulted by the Grand Companies because I should join them. After going to all their speeches of course. The speeches are nothing really to impressive in my opinion. Drawn out a lot and Alphinaud is here who at this point in time is still green behind the ears and also a massive prick with a superiority complex.

Alisaie is also here and she is not saying a word because the both of them have some beef with each other.

After coming back I decided to join the Immortal Flames. Mostly because Raubahns speech is great and also my Job Questline is here. You know. Convenience. Before I can join tho disaster strikes and I gotta get Biggs and Wench out of trouble which is done fairly quickly.

The Gang is here.

After going back to the Flames to officially become a member I got a message I dis not wish to see:

This quest has to be finished in order to complete the Main Scenario Quest “A Realm Reborn”

The quest in question is the Chocobo Quest. In case you don’t know, in order to get a chocobo you need to buy a chocobo voucher. The voucher itself costs Company Seals and Company Seals are a currency. This does not bode well.

I will try to postpone this quest as much as possible. We will see if it holds true.

In the meanwhile our next quest leads us to the Shroud. Because I have reached level 30 tho, I decided to become a Blackmage first and a Blackmage I became. (Even tho I had to again walk to East Thanalan... twice!)

After all of this tho I do have to take a break. It doesn’t look like much but these few things do take up a few hours of real estate.

See you around next time!

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