#the sky’s the limit and imagine the shenanigans

[arcxnumvitae]

Sùil Airgid— Silver Eye. It is an incredibly deadly poison derived from the nectar of a nameless silver flower that grows in the wilds of Seelie. Only one drop ingested or in the bloodstream is enough to cause death. Its notable feature is that, as something of a scar, silver flecks of coloration are left in the irises of those who have come into contact with it— hence the pretty self-explanatory name. It is by those eyes that the cause of death is usually determined to be Sùil Airgid in the corpses found.

The flower it comes from is notorious for its rarity— it only blooms for but a few moments under a blue moon, and even then only if the proper factors in temperature, soil quality, and other things are present. It’s a fickle thing which makes it incredibly difficult to find and even more difficult to find in the exact right moment. Near impossible, frankly.

Because of those reasons, and because it cannot be domesticated and grown intentionally, the poison is a rare one. It’s only “saving grace” in the eyes of those who would use it is that the poison is simple to make (simply collect the nectar of the plant), and, once collected, it does not diminish in potency or lethality no matter how many years have passed or what conditions it is stored in.

It is still difficult to find on any black markets and because of its rarity, the price tag usually attached makes it something of a “nobles’ poison”. Who wouldn’t be willing to pay something extra for the near guaranteed death of their target?

Especially if said targets were the royal family of Seelie.

[factual-fantasy]

Greetings Factual! Sorry it's been a bit since I last got to say hi, it's been a crazy week for me- but I still managed to check in every once in a while, and as is always the case, really enjoyed your recent posts- both the fun and the angsty! In particular, I really liked the Fnaf anniversary image you did, it was really cool seeing the classic crew in your style- and thanks for remembering Golden Freddy!

That actually brought up an Ask I had, too, which is: is Golden Freddy cannon to your main Fnaf AU? You made the Fredbear and Spring Bonnie side au, but did a version ever exist before the core crew in the original timeline? If so, he probably wouldn't be haunted, like the others arent, but, as an older model would he even be sentient? Maybe it's too spoilery, but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask!

As a sidenote, I also come bearing a gift today! Last time, you'll recall, I asked if you wanted to see some of the old Mario OC's I came up with, and you said yes! So here's what I got now that I've redrawn and refurbished them- forgive my poor art and camerawork- i had to work with what limited time and supplies I had- anyway, without further adu, here's the dynamic desert dwelling duo, Rick and Rusty!

My idea for their story is that, as you can see, Rusty is an old, outdated model of Sherm, like the ones from Odyssey, and his partner is an almost equally as old, rough and tough Monty Mole named Rick who's lost most of his vision with age. I'm still figuring out the way they met- but at some point they both got stranded in the deserts of the Sand Kingdom , and ended up deciding to team up, becoming a wandering duo of tradesmen, transporting goods from one settlement to another- after all, Ricks gotta eat, and Rusty's always in need of spare parts due to his advanced age.

Sometimes times are tough for the two of them, but they soldier on though even the toughest sandstorms- and have formed a very important symbiotic bond, as Rusty gives Rick some much appreciated protection(he is a tank after all) as well as verbal direction when necessary, and in turn, Rick uses his impressive skills as a mechanic to repair and replace Rusty's parts, both on the outside and inside! I also imagine that Rusty would double as a living, mobile home for Rick, with some of those good ol' bigger in the inside shenanigans going on! I also had an idea for two additional characters who would eventually join the traveling band- those being Dott the Flopter and Brock the Bandit!

Still working on their stories too, but I envisioned Dott as a happy go lucky explorer who came up from the Sprixie kingdom to explore the surface world- only to surface in the sand kingdom and get caught in a sandstorm! Thankfully Rick and Rusty were passing by and provided shelter, after which she volunteered to join them on their adventures for the foreseeable future- Rick finds her outgoing personality a bit obnoxious at times- but Rusty's taken a real liking to her- plus, it never hurts to have eyes in the sky!

As for Brock, I imagined his arc would be similar to Diego's from Ice Age, funnily enough- he started as a double agent who sought to lure the crew into a trap so his gang mates could rob them, but he ended up liking them so much he switched sides, beat his old team at their own game, and joined the traveling Merchants officially as their muscle! His mask lets him weather even the most severe sandstorms, and he can use his hockey stick to wack projectiles at foes even faster than Rusty can fire a- uh- whatever those things Sherms shoot are called!

Anyway that's all I got for now, sorry as always for the wall of text- I was just eager to see what you think! With you being a professional AU and OC crafter, (especially compared to me) I would greatly appreciate any thoughts or criticisms you can offer! Thank you so much as always- and I hope this day is treating you well!

Hi! Its good to see you in my ask box again! :D I'm sorry to hear about your week though, I hope this next one treats you better <:(

As for the FNAF 10th anniversary post, I'm really glad you liked it! :D And how could I forget Golden Freddy?? He's been one of my top favorite animatronics for a very long time XD Speaking of him, he does exist in my main FNAF AU technically :0 although "Golden Freddy" in my AU is actually just the old Fredbear suit after it was decommissioned- though obviously I cant talk much about if it was haunted or sentient at all <XD spoiler stuff-

And lastly, your OCS! AND MY GOODNESS DO I LOVE THEM!!! :DD And as a ✨professional AU/OC crafter✨(XDD thank you!! :}} ) I tried to give you some criticism like you asked. But I'm having a hard time coming up with anything solid! <:0 I love their stories and I think their designs are great!

Originally some criticism I thought of was that Rusty looked a liiittle overly detailed.. there was an awful lot of bolts on the guy. But upon googling Sherms, they look like that in the game! Absolutely flooded with bolts! :0 So your design is actually accurate and very well done! Same thing with his color, thought maybe he could use a little more color but nope! In game the Sherms are just a block of green XD You actually gave him MORE color with the two different shades of brown! A very good choice in my opinion! :))

The only lasting criticism I could think of was more of a question; how can Rick repair Rusty if he's lost most of his eye sight..? Sure Rusty might be able to verbally guide him from the outside somewhat.. but what about internal repair? Thinking about it though, he could just be near sighted- or maybe his eye sight isn't as bad as I'm imaging it is? Either way- loved the critters! Loved the stories, the art is fantastic and I hope the rest of our day/night is a good one! :))

[kittysamzkewlz19]

‪Medusa Ex Makina‬

‪Chapter 4: Not an Instructor‬

‪Rated: M for Mature ‬

‪Warnings: None‬

‪Author’s Note: Ohoho, now we’re getting into some crazy shenanigans! The first arc is slowly coming to a close but the curtains rise on something bigger going on in the background.‬

From the morning she woke up on her new high end mattress, to eating the most extravagant breakfast, and to even getting ready in her very own private luxury bathroom, Makina felt like a fairytale princess. A very brutal, fairytale princess. She still couldn’t believe that she went from the world’s shittiest apartment, to living in a ginormous castle that was also home to the world’s most famous metal band in the universe! It was a dream come true for the rookie metal singer, and she didn’t want to wake up. It had been a whole week since she began living in Mordhaus and the first thing she wanted to do today was to check out that state of the art music room she was shown on the house tour. Makina remembered that the music room was close to one of the recording studios. The room itself had a satin red velvet carpet with the signature medieval theming on one of the walls, there was another vampiric looking sofa and sawblade coffee table near the back end of the room. There were various different instruments placed around, from hanging on display to larger instruments that took up more space. This room oozed with creativity that got the gears in her brain turning as inspiration struck. The one thing that caught Makina’s eye was the bright sunburst orange, limited edition, Gibson “Les Paul” piano. A beautiful Baldwin 243, aka a classically shaped upright piano. Pressing a G note, it showed that the piano was perfectly tuned and maintained. Makina giddily sat down and began to play a favorite song of hers. As she played, she began to sing along with her own accompaniment.

She hummed along to the instrumentals and lost herself to the melody and rhythm of the song. She was completely engulfed in her own fantasy of being on a large stage, the thousands of imaginary people watching and raising their phones’ flashlights to the sky like a sea of twinkling stars. A set of tiptoeing footsteps came way towards Makina as she began to sing the next part of the song. Makina’s eyes still shut, imagining the crowd cheering for her. Her piano playing became more intricate and elaborate as the mystery viewer gingerly opened the music room door wider. The onlooker watched on as she played with frantic precision and grace, slowly coming back down to the simple melody she was playing at the start. The figure walked closer to her, ever so slightly leaning against the piano’s body. Gently coming back down, playing the last few notes until she accidentally missed. Makina opened her eyes at the sour note and then was taken aback by the reveal of her secret spectator. “Nots bads fors a pianos players.” Skwisgaar smirked, “It ams nots the sames as playings guitars, but it ams stills verys talenteds-ka.” Makina’s face began to burn up. She didn’t know what to say to the suave swede, it was as if words of gratitude had completely been erased from her vocabulary and instead replaced with stuttering nonsense.

Deep down in the pits of her soul, Makina would have screamed like the rabid fangirl she was. To her this was cloud 9, the highest praise she was ever going to get for a long time. Skwisgaar was always her favorite member of Dethklok; not for his looks, his foreign european charm, or his supposed “raw sex appeal” that made everyone drool over him. No, she admired him for his passionate love for music. The way he talked about building custom guitars, his avid knowledge about song composition in interviews. Makina had always admired him for the skills that he possessed. And now he was complimenting her piano playing! Makina’s expression became dopey as she was completely deaf to the criticism coming from the slim man’s lips; she was far too distracted by his fervor to even care. “Ams yous listenings or watchings fairies dancings?” Makina was shaken back to reality by Skwisgaar’s annoyance. “S-sorry, I didn’t catch that last bit. Can you please repeat that?” Makina asked dumbfoundedly. Skwisgaar exasperatedly sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Oks, Ams goings to puts its in babies termkanologists. Yous gots a vibratos problems whens you do thems melotics singings. Thats ams whens yous makes yours voices sounds like you ams in an earths shakers. You ams puts too much ofs its ams in the last notes ins everys verses. You ams gots a goods voices buts stills lots of needings improverments.” And there it was, Makina finally got her wake up call.

She had a vibrato problem?! She supposed a death growling vocal set could only take her so far. ‘Wait, how come no one told me about my vibrato!?’ “Oh… damn…” those were the only words she managed to say before slouching further into her seat. Makina closed the piano, ashamed to even play anymore and leaned onto her elbows on the hard wooden cover. She was forever grateful that a musical genius like Skwisgaar would catch such an obvious problem. But boy, he placed a real shiner on her ego. “How do you suppose I fix it?” Makina questioned with dullness in her voice. “Simples fix, practice lots. Haves yous evers taken proper vocals lessons?” Makina tried to recall a time in her life where she had any form of formal training, then it dawned on her. “Well, I was in a children’s choir from pre-k to eighth grade. But that’s ‘cause I went to an all girls church school.”

“And there ams the trunks ofs thems problem. Choirs does nots shows your fullest range ofs singings, you ams playing matchings with others harmonies. Plus thems operatics mess with yous as a solo singers. So, you ams gots to retrains yous voices.” Makina’s eyes filled with a sudden burst of pluck, “If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it!” she exclaimed with a fiery passion. Skwisgaar was taken aback by Makina’s sudden enthusiasm, he had never seen anyone determined after being harshly reprimanded. Makina was truly something else. “Skwisgaar, you should give me more pointers!”

”What, nos! That jobs shoulds bes for someones like maybes Pickle or more importantlys Nathans. Am’st he not yours mentors?” Skwisgaar questioned. “Yeah, but it’s good to get other people’s perspectives. Besides, Nathan keeps pushing back my apprenticeship.” Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow of concern at Makina’s nonchalant attitude. Back when he was mentoring Toki, there was a sense of urgency to advance his training. But since Makina wasn’t a part of Dethklok, he supposed that the circumstances were entirely different. Even still, the guitarist couldn’t stand to see Makina flounder without a sense of direction.

XxxX

Meanwhile in Nathan’s bedroom, the hulking vocalist was hunched over at his desk scribbling away in a notebook. He was discussing with Pickles more ideas for a new record. “What if you added that idea you had when we were in Costa Rica. You know, the one about underbites hooking onto flesh.” Pickles suggested as he laid on the singer’s bed. “Uh… oh the anglerfish thing! We did that already.”

”Oh fuck. Guess you’re really losing your touch.” Nathan placed his pen down and put his hand on his forehead. “Don’t say that, it’s just been a bit more… I don’t know. Is stressed the right word?” He said with frustration. Pickles sat up from the bed and crossed his legs, “Stressed? About what, the record?” Nathan shook his head, he didn’t have the right words to describe what was bothering him. Before he could give his drummer a response, Skwisgaar opened his door with Makina tucked away behind him. The slender musician roughly tugged Makina’s arm, dragging her into Nathan’s room and leading her towards the singer’s desk. Pickles turned to see the younger vocalist with an apprehensive look on their face. “Medusas, tells Nathan’s whats yous needs.” Skwisgaar pulled Makina’s arm a bit more. He gestured her to speak, she sighed. “Mr. Explosion, I… I need you to… I need you to give me proper vocal lessons during my apprenticeship. Um… now would be nice.” Makina sheepishly stated, she looked away with embarrassment. The bruise on her ego made itself known as she fiddled with the zipper on her hoodie, hiding her hands in the sleeves. Nathan looked up at Pickles and pointed at Makina. “This, this is my answer.” Nathan said with a drop of frustration in his tone. Pickles scratched his beard with a wide eyed expression, he somewhat comprehended Nathan’s emotions. The ginger dreaded man hopped off of Nathan’s bed and walked closer towards Makina and Skwisgaar. “You know what kiddo, how about I take over for Nathan as your mentor for today. Is that fine?” Pickles asked warmly, Makina hummed in agreement and Pickles led the raven haired lady out of the room with Skwisgaar following suit. She took a quick glance to see Nathan with a disappointed look on his face.

XxxX

“Alright so let me get this straight, you have a vibrato problem?” Makina silently nodded, “How is that possible? When you covered ‘Hatredcopter’ at Doom-opolis, I couldn’t hear any issues.”

”That’s because the song had more growling and it wasn’t as melotic. I want to be able to sing properly without having to overuse my voice with only death screams.” Pickles leaned into the music room’s couch arm and placed his hand over his mouth. “Whys don’ts yous shows Pickle.” Skwisgaar said as he leaned a bit into the piano, Makina gulped nervously and looked down at the ebony and ivory shine of the keys. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began playing the same song as before. Taking into consideration that Pickles and Skwisgaar were watching, her concentration began to falter a bit. Missing a few notes here and there and then finally before the end of the second verse, her voice cracked. Makina stopped playing and began to cough up the saliva that was caught in her windpipe. “Geez, You got more than a vibrato issue there.”

”Ja, you soundeds worsers that times.” Skwisgaar cringed. “I don’t know about that I mean, it was more… pitchy.” Pickles said as he walked towards the piano. “Sorry, just nerves. I can try again.” Makina began playing from the second verse onward, her heart felt as if it was twisting in knots as every beat made her chest tighter. Her hands shook as Makina attempted to calm down, and once more she missed another note. “I’m sorry… I just don’t think I can do this.”

”Oh come on Makina, you got this. Here, maybe just try another song?” Makina put her hands back in the sleeves of her hoodie, Skwisgaar noticed this and realized something. “Medusas, take offs yours jackets and toss it overs theres.” Skwisgaar commanded, he pointed back to the sofa. Without hesitation, Makina did as she was told and threw her hoodie to the side. The air in the music room was much colder than she had expected, shivers went down her spine as the crisp air conditioned room touched her skin. “Skwisgaar, how the hell is that going to help?”

“Justs watchs. Ok now, sings.” Makina closed her eyes, and began to play a different song.

As she sang, something strange began to happen. The lighting in the room began to darken, with her concentration deepened Makina’s voice began to echo. Her vocals became louder and louder, the melody of the piano began to swell. But somehow, they could hear more than just a piano playing. It was as if there was a whole orchestra accompanying Makina’s song. And it was here Pickles and Skwisgaar had seen something unreal, a greenish glow began to surround Makina. They could see a faint string of lights begin to form some sort of image, but it was far too blurry for them to comprehend. Skwisgaar’s eyes widened at the display he so inevitably caused. Meanwhile Pickles was far too stunned to utter a word. He just knew something about this felt so wrong and yet, this sight felt so oddly comforting to him. As if right on cue, Nathan walked in to see the familiar display of lights. Makina began to softly sing and the green aura began to die down a bit. But then with a burst of fortissimo, the aura became clear to them. Green floating metal chains began surrounding Makina as if she was in a tangled bird cage.

The music began to die down as she was playing the last few notes of the song. She didn’t even miss one and her singing was once again, in perfect pitch. “What the actual hell was that?!” Pickles shouted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Makina replied. “Oks so it ams nots a fluke, yous cans sings nots likes shits!”

”Forget about that Skwisgaar, did you hear the background music or those chains?! Makina what was that?!” Pickles exasperated, Nathan walked closer and placed a hand on the shorter man’s shoulders to calm him down. He then quietly looked at Makina, who was confused by the whole ordeal. “Makina, care to explain yourself?” Nathan questioned, Makina shook her head. “I honestly have no clue what you're all on about. I’m sorry.” Pickles and Nathan’s faces were painted with disappointment, leaving them with more questions than answers. “Medusas, I thinks yous needs more praticings stills. Don’ts overdos its.” Skwisgaar commented calmly. Nathan looked to the side in shame, he didn’t know how or what to say to his protege. He was just as completely lost as Makina was, she gave him a look of dread.

XxxX

That night, Nathan restlessly stared at the ceiling. He was the one to vouch for Makina to be her mentor, he was the one who took interest in her singing abilities, so why was it that now he couldn’t speak with her about starting her training? ‘Mentor’, a word he was sort of familiar with. While the concept was easy to grasp, the idea of what a mentor was supposed to do was incomprehensible to the death metal vocalist. Nathan remembered the look on Makina’s face earlier that day; an expression of confusion and anxiety. He felt as frozen as the day he first saw her perform. Nathan desperately tried to wrap his head around how to fill that mentor role. Only problem was that he really didn’t have a mentor when he was starting out, Nathan had no one to go off of. The long haired singer shifted his weight, laying down on the side of his left arm. His mind began to wander off as he finally drifted to sleep.

XxxX

Within the dream, Nathan was partially nude with only his underpants deep underwater. He was all too familiar with this setting, but something about it felt off. The whale prophet was nowhere to be seen and the oceanic waters seemed shallower than usual. The only logical explanation would be to swim upward to see what he could find. Upon swimming further up, he could clearly see a shoreline. It was unusual for him to be near the surface of the water, but then he saw her. The whale prophet breached the water and was floating next to him. Nathan swam closer to the whale and gently petted her, she clicked with affection. “It is good to see you daughter, I see you have found the egg.” The prophet whispered. “What do I do?” Nathan asked. The whale whistled and nudged the singer to the shore. “Find her before he does.” She said as a large wave washed Nathan closer to the shore. Landing on the hot warm sand, he could see in the distance Makina walking closer and closer to a cave. He wanted to get up and run to her, but was paralyzed on the beach like a fish flopping about. Nathan tried to call out to her, but his voice was suffocated by hoarse coughing. It was as if Nathan couldn’t breathe and desperately tried to reach out to her. But then…

XxxX

BANG! Nathan awoke to something very loud, large beads of sweat came pouring out of him like a waterfall. He hadn’t had a dream that visceral since the eve of the Metalocalypse. Nathan rolled out of bed to see what disturbed him from his slumber, he opened the door. “Who the fuck did that!?” Nathan shouted down the hall. No answer, then a few seconds later the sound of whimpers. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed a pair of slippers, and a flashlight. ‘Probably just Toki.’ Nathan thought to himself as he followed the sound to a few doors down the hallway. Instead of Toki’s room, the sound came from Makina’s. Nathan sighed and opened her room door to find her life sized coffin shelf toppled on top of her. Makina looked up with tears in her eyes, pouting as to not make it look like she was in pain. “S-sorry for waking you. I… I fell. Clumsy me.” Makina did her best to try and make herself smile but Nathan could see right through her pained expression. The vocalist quickly stood the shelf back up and offered a hand to his raven haired student. Makina grabbed it and pulled herself up, seeing the mess around her. Nathan quickly scanned Makina to see if she was bleeding, thankfully it was only one small thin cut under the bottom of her left jaw. Nathan put his hand on her face to inspect it further, “I’m fine, really.” Makina protested, she sniffled a little bit to hide her obvious crying. “We can get a klokateer to help clean this up.” Nathan suggested, “No no, I got it. Besides, most of this stuff is very valuable.” Makina replied as she wiped away some of her tears, she knelt down and began picking up some of her belongings.

Upon moving some books around, Nathan spotted a very familiar snow globe. He knelt down to examine it further. It was a miniature Mordhaus snowglobe; the same kind of snow globe they sold at concerts, the same kind of snow globe he had given to Toki when he left for Rock-a-Rooni Fantasy Camp, and now it was shattered on the ground with the glass and water scattered on the floor. “When did you get this?” Nathan asked as Makina grabbed some tissues from her personal bathroom. “Ah, uh… well, my friend Gerard got it for me. He wasn’t able to go to the concert that year but he did buy it from the online shop. It’s too bad that I gotta toss it.” Makina said wistfully. She knelt down and began wiping the water off of the brick tile floor. Gingerly she began sweeping the glass into hand and placing it into the wastebasket by her computer desk. Nathan watched on as Makina sniffled again, tears began to flow out from her eyes. “Why were you up?” Nathan attempted to ask softly, he did his best to not push too many questions on the poor vocalist. Makina stopped dead in her tracks. “I… uh, it’s stupid and embarrassing.” The singer looked to the side sheepishly, her tears kept drizzling out from her face. “I was, I was…” Makina looked back up at Nathan and saw how concerned he looked, Makina took a breath and then spoke. “I was trying to open the coffin cabinet but it got stuck. Then everything was about to fall so I went under to try and stop it but, I got noodles for arms, and I just ended up becoming a pillow for the shelf’s fall.”

‘She was right, it was stupid.’ Nathan thought to himself as he tried to keep his composure. “Why did you want to open the coffin?” Makina looked to her right and saw the thing she was looking for. She pointed to it and Nathan picked it up, it was a crimson stained leather bound journal. Curiously, Nathan opened it up. Makina’s face flushed bright pink. Inside there were scribbles about song ideas and little doodles too. He flipped through the pages and saw a note written in red ink.

“If only Dad, Rats, and that rockstar guy could see me now. I’m sure they’d be proud.

Note to self: fix vibrato. Do it for Nathan, make him not regret choosing me!”

Nathan’s heart sank, he realized Makina was pushing herself to the max in order to impress him. But when he read over the first part again, the word ‘Dad’ echoed in his mind. Maybe Makina was homesick. “You know, you could alway call your dad.” Nathan offered, gently handing back the journal to her. Makina limply grabbed it and let it fall to the floor, “My dad’s dead Mr. Explosion, he’s been dead since I was 10.”

”You could drop the formalities Medusa.” Nathan said bluntly, “No offense, I get that you’re wanting to give me respect and all, but it’s kind of fucking weird.” Makina couldn’t hold back anymore, she couldn’t compose herself any longer and began to sob. “I’m sorry I’m not as good or as brutal as you are. I’m trying really hard to live up to your standard and I fucked up again. Please don’t kick me out!” Nathan couldn’t believe what he was hearing, her anxieties were being poured out in front of him just like back at Doom-opolis. This time he knew what he needed to do. Nathan swiftly wrapped his arms around the crying singer, her muffled screams into his shoulder now wet with her salty tears. He rubbed her back, in an attempt to finally give the singer some form of comfort. Makina’s sobs were now nothing but hushed whimpers as Nathan kept holding her. Out of instinct, Makina hugged her mentor back gripping his pajama shirt by the waist. “Makina,” Nathan said in a fatherly tone, “You’re doing a good job. Stop beating yourself up over the small shit. And you will do better, I know it. I will start your training properly tomorrow, I promise. Ok?” Makina gave a small ‘Mmm-hmm.’ And with that Nathan released Makina from the hug. He ruffled her hair a bit before helping her clean a bit of the remaining mess. Makina crawled back into her bed, “Good night Mr- I mean, Nathan.” The singer gave a small smile back and bidded his pupil good night.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

we interrupt this meal prep for interdimensional shenanigans

i can't even say this one is prompt-based, because the original prompt was like, "shadow and vio eat food!" which isn't WRONG, but i'm 99.9999% sure this fic was not the desired outcome.

we interrupt this meal prep for interdimensional shenanigans

(2559 words, general audiences, crackfic/shitpost/whatever, implied shadow x vio)

Link scrutinizes everything—every memory, every regret, every challenge laid before him by the goddess Hylia herself. He has journals full of notes and recollections, quests he has no reason to accept other than a genuine desire to connect with the world around him. He’s endlessly curious. He leaves no stone unturned. 

Until tonight, that is… because Link has just reached his fucking limit. 

read the full thing on ao3 or under the cut:

It’s nearly dusk when Link arrives at Riverside Stable. 

He’s spent a long, grueling day fighting Guardians on Hyrule Field, hoping to net as many Giant Ancient Cores as possible before the next Blood Moon. If his mental math is correct, tonight Calamity Ganon will yet again revive every single monster on the map, undoing all the hard work he’s done to rid Hyrule of evil. That, Link can accept—just as well as he can accept anything that’s happened to the world in the past century, anyway—but the heightened nighttime spawn rate of those cursed Stal enemies is simply intolerable. 

On nights like this, Link always tries his best to find shelter, or at least a campfire to help him pass the time. The upside of a stable or town is that Link can cook during the Blood Moon, which he’s discovered can sometimes give his meals random status buffs. He treasures the opportunity to learn how freshly foraged ingredients interact, resulting in unique dishes and the occasional dubious food. Cooking is one of the first things Link re-learned to do after his restorative slumber, and still remains his very favorite.

Earlier on in his travels, it would have been difficult for Link to tell each of Hyrule’s stables apart. From a distance they all look the same, offering identical services and ready-to-use cooking pots, never too far from a shrine for fast-traveling convenience. At this point, however, Link has taken detailed physical and mental notes on each location. It’s impossible not to get to know these places when you’re scouring the map for 900 Korok seeds and random townspeople with names using the suffix “-son.”

Riverside Stable is one of the least distinguishable of the bunch, located by Hylia River between Hyrule Field and West Necluda. Link’s first encounter with the place was during his search for Hestu, who was en route at the time to his home in the Korok forest. Beside the stable is the Wahgo Katta Shrine, obviously already completed, and a docked raft just asking to be used. 

As the sun sets over the river, Link takes a picture of two ducks with his Sheikah Slate. He’s not sure why he does this—his Compendium is complete—but these days he’s just trying to let himself exist, however he pleases. 

There are only a few more things he needs to do before he can return to Hyrule Castle and destroy Calamity Ganon for good. His current objective is to acquire the complete Ancient Armor set from Cherry at the Akkala Tech Lab, hence the Guardian farming. In retrospect, he really wishes he hadn’t wasted his stockpile of ancient screws and gears trying to enhance his seafood paella.

“Link! Hey!” 

Beedle waves at the approaching hero from the front of the stable, sitting criss-cross on the ground with his merchant’s table unfolded. For some reason, this strange man always seems to be exactly where he’s needed.

“Wow!” Beedle exclaims as Link stands at attention, hands on his hips. “We meet again! It seems that sharing space is our destiny.”

Link nods, because that’s really the only way he can imagine responding to the statement. 

“What are you looking for? Or are you selling?” 

Link looks up at the sky and then down at the stable, bathed in the warm orange color of the setting sun. He could always just call it a night now, but it doesn’t look like there will be rain, and he’s been holding onto some hearty durians from his recent travels to Faron… 

Link buys three tireless frogs and Beedle’s meager stock of arrows, and then sells him a few opals to make up for rupees spent. He does this—like most things—without a word, pointing to his desired purchases on the sheet Beetle provides. 

“Thank you very much! Hope to see you again soon!” 

He probably will, and they both know this. 

Link walks past Ember in the stable window to the small outdoor area Riverside has to offer. Nothing special here—a pre-lit cooking pot, wooden benches, supply crates and a spare pot lid. Three horses enjoy their hay in the outdoor stables and Link tries not to think about the last time and place he saw his own. They’re not dead, he promises, but just… maybe on a cliff, somewhere. He’ll find them. It’s fine. 

It’s turning dark now, and Link gets the easiest recipes out of the way first. Five hearty durians, five hearty durians, five hearty durians. Boring but extremely effective. Sneaky fried wild greens for his next trip to the Yiga hideout, stamina elixir with the frogs purchased from Beedle. Spicy peppers, the scent so strong that Link’s sinuses sting. He considers cooking a few raw whole birds, but then remembers to hold onto them for the strange wolf who occasionally accompanies him on his travels. Monster cake, just for fun, purple fumes rising from the pot as it sets.

He’ll probably end up preparing more than a dozen dishes tonight. Maybe it’s not the case for an average Hylian, but for Link, meal prep is essential. He realized pretty early on in his adventures that he could keep his meals fresh by programming the Sheikah Slate to automatically Stasis them until needed. That probably wasn’t Zelda or the Sheikah’s intention with the rune, but it has kept him alive in more lynel fights than he can count. 

He’d love more stamina-boosting dishes but is low on the necessary supplies. But there, in the river, a few staminoka bass catch his eye. He draws his bow, shock-arrows the water, and watches his quarry rise to the surface. He then uses Magnesis on the Master Sword to spear the fish like a kebab and slide them into the pot, listening to their satisfying sizzle against the cast iron surface. 

Link can see the Blood Moon rising in the sky, as well as the purple-red particles of malice rising from the ground. Yet again he’s reminded of how deeply Calamity Ganon has marred this world—and how, despite this, the world persists. 

He’s heard of many unexplained things happening during the Blood Moon, far beyond the regeneration of monsters and forageable materials. A woman in Hateno told him she once saw herself, with red eyes that pierced through the darkness, watching her from the field outside her home. Riju said that her bedroom mirror sometimes acts strangely during the Blood Moon, her reflection lost to a pitch-black void. Even Link himself has witnessed strange disappearances and reappearances, entire monsters and buildings fading in and out of existence, especially when he’s windbombing in a rush to find shelter.

“Hey, you!” Link turns his head to face Gotter, a stablehand he’s helped at least once, probably, with something or other. “You’re the guy who got me the recipes from Hyrule Castle! And you drew me a map! Are you cooking now?” 

Link looks from Gotter, to the lit cooking pot full of simmering seafood, and back to Gotter. 

“Neat,” Gotter says, taking a deep whiff. “You know, it’s funny…” 

He rambles on as Link considers his next ingredients. He has a lot of Goron spice at the moment, that might work. On the other hand, he’s pretty sure there’s someone near Rito Village who’s waiting on a delivery of the stuff. He’d have to consult his notes to be sure. 

“I said, it’s funny,” Gotter clears his throat and Link shrugs in apology. “I thought I just saw you, over by the water, but it looks like you’ve been cooking here for quite a while.”

This intrigues Link. Gotter looks him up and down, which isn’t an irregular occurrence with Hyrule’s denizens but makes him uncomfortable all the same. 

“Did you change your clothes?” Gotter asks, eyebrows knitted. “I could have sworn you were wearing purple.” 

Link steps away from the cooking pot and juts his chin towards the water behind the stables. Gotter nods. “Yeah, over there. By the dock.” 

Link scarfs down his recently-prepared stealthy greens and leaves the rest of the night’s meals and ingredients by the fire, shushing Gotter as he sneaks towards the horse stables. From his kneeling position, he can indeed see the form of a Hylian seated on the dock, about his height and build. The shape of the stranger’s hair is similar to Link’s, as well, long and choppy and flowing in the breeze. Link watches as the stranger ties up his hair and opens a book, jotting something down as he watches the river rush by. The blood moon is certainly bright enough to illuminate the pages. 

Slowly as he can, Link crouch-hops behind the stable. He presses himself up against the canvas tent as he tries to get a better look, hiding behind a wooden mop taller than he is standing.

“—can’t believe the ritual worked, especially given what that mirror has been already through—”

The man speaks, quietly but discernibly, despite his lack of company. This is the greatest surprise yet; not only does this ‘Link’ speak at all, but his voice is also unfamiliar. Link knows what his voice sounds like, even if he doesn’t often use it. He still says “hyah” probably at least thirty times a day. 

This person speaks in full sentences, his voice more controlled than Link’s own. He has this academic affect, reminding Link of Zelda when she gushes about her scientific fascinations. 

“—don’t see why we can’t pet the dogs—” 

Link’s expression sours. A… second voice? A second person? His eyes strain to see in the dark, and sure enough, there is another person seated on the dock. His form is less distinguishable, but the impression of his mangled-looking hat is lined with red moonlight. Glancing downwards, he can now also see that the two people are holding hands. 

Link can’t even remember the last time he was touched, outside of battle and armor upgrades. 

“How long do we have?” the shadowy figure asks the young man with the book. 

“I think until morning. When the moon goes, so do we.” 

“No one’s going to believe that we did this. I can’t believe we did this. Look at this world, Vio, it’s insane!” 

Vio, Link thinks with relief. See? Completely different person. 

“I’m curious about Calamity Ganon,” the man named Vio says. Link’s blood goes cold. “Is he the same as ours?”

“Not our problem. You hungry? I’m super hungry.” 

“Actually, yes. The book did mention the ritual having that effect.” 

Link brings his hand to his head, which immediately proves to be a mistake. The mop clatters loudly onto the ground and draws the attention of both young men. While one appears to have a normal face, the other’s features are eclipsed by piercing red eyes. 

“So that’s why we were sent here,” says the cursed creature, elbowing the man beside him. With the moonlight on their faces, they admittedly both bear some resemblance to Hylia’s chosen champion. “I thought he’d just look like Green, but he’s got a whole turquoise thing going on with the tunic.” 

Link’s mouth hangs open. He makes some kind of ugly “guh” sound and jumps to his feet, holding the mop in an offensive position. After a second’s consideration he swaps it out for the Master Sword, which still vaguely smells of fish. 

“Hey, calm down,” Vio says, raising both his hands. “You… you’re probably tired, aren’t you? Long day?”

Link is still as a statue and just as silent. 

“You’re imagining this,” Vio continues, locking eyes with the shadow and turning back to Link. “That’s… that’s what happens during the Blood Moon, right? And—hey!—something smells good, you’ve been cooking!”

“Seriously, that does smell good,” the shadow mutters, more to Vio than to Link. 

“I wonder if you’ve used any questionable ingredients, lately? Like monster extract? I’ve read that the cooking fumes from that stuff can cause some intense hallucinations.” 

“I’ve, uh, read that too.”

Link looks from one person to another, still deeply uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“Go get some rest,” says Vio with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll have a clearer head in the morning. Cool sword, by the way.” 

Link holds it tight to his chest and the shadow bursts out laughing. Vio elbows him and he stops at once.

Maybe they’re right about the monster extract, Link tries to convince himself. Who knows where Kilton got it? 

He’s been through a lot since awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection. He’s seen ghosts of kings, monsters rising from the dead, giant divine beasts and flying elemental dragons. He’s done tactical drag and liked it. He’s become a homeowner. He’s built a town from the ground up.

Link scrutinizes everything—every memory, every regret, every challenge laid before him by the goddess Hylia herself. He has journals full of notes and recollections, quests he has no reason to accept other than a genuine desire to connect with the world around him. He’s endlessly curious. He leaves no stone unturned. 

Until tonight, that is… because Link has just reached his fucking limit. 

He turns on his heel and retreats inside the stable, praying to the Champions, Zelda, and Hylia herself for sanity when he wakes.

━━

The sun has risen and the imposters are gone. 

Link stretches his arms above his head and waves to Beetle as he exits the tent. Before he can depart from the stable entirely, however, he’s intercepted by a familiar face.

“Hey,” Gotter says, wringing his hands. “I just want to apologize for anything I might have told you last night. I was… well, I had found some barrels in the Hyrule Castle cellars last week, using that map you gave me. Brought ‘em back here, decided to give it a shot to celebrate the Blood Moon. It tasted kind of like root beer, but I don’t think it was just root beer, if you know what I mean. Do you know what I mean?”

Link gestures a tentative so-so. Gotter rubs the back of his neck. 

“But, uh, point is, I don’t think I was in my right mind last night. So sorry, if I said anything weird.” 

Link is beyond relieved as he nods his understanding. Last night was fine. He arrived at the stable, did some cooking, and then went to sleep. 

His inventory is light, though, for the day after meal prep. Oh, right—he left his food by the cooking pot when he got distracted by the… whatever it was. Link could get distracted by a mushroom, or a cricket, or a stick, so it wasn’t too hard to believe. 

But he should definitely collect his food before heading back to Hyrule Field. He’s pretty good at shield-parrying lasers, but there’s always that one time in a dozen where he fumbles the timing. 

Outside Riverside Stable, the fire is still lit. The horses still eat hay, the ducks still swim, the pot lid still rests against a storage crate. The river still runs in the correct direction and the sun still shines in the sky. 

But Link’s food—meals, ingredients, all of it—is completely gone.

The only thing left is a handwritten note, secured beneath an impromptu paperweight on one of the wooden stools. Link snatches the note and narrows his eyes, trying to interpret the overly elaborate cursive script:

Thanks for breakfast! Good luck with Ganon!

- V&S 

[morbidmeatbun]

The Twins' Life

Fandom: Sky - Children of the Light

Character(s): Rhythm Guide, Performance Guide

Additional Tags: Slice of life, familial love

Warnings: None

Language: English

Headcanon

Clearly we can see my favoritism showing up XD.

I love these two so much—they have great angst happy story fuel 😘

The headcanon will mostly cover their daily lives shenanigans, and maybe some little backstory for them I thought for a while now.

(Art by めめ on Twitter)

First of all; both of them love art and music.

C'mon, even their season names said so—

Anyway, it's clear that Rhythm and Performance had different preferences.

Rhythm is in a musical troupe, occasionally touring the kingdom with his group to perform.

While Performance took interest in theatrical productions. The village was more than happy to build a theatre for his own troupe to perform.

Of course, the two of them would watch each others shows. Though Performance couldn't often watch it because Rhythm's troupe continuously had to go to various places in a short time span. Likewise.

Both of them had considered of doing a collaboration.

It may took a long time to plan though, easier said than done.

But if it ever happens, it must be the best performance in the whole valley.

Let's all hope together—

Oh! I tend to think that Performance is the messy type, while Rhythm is the organized one.

Did I just assumed that based on their hairstyles?

Yes. Yes I did.

Besides, Performance do look like he just woke up from bed.

Nah, more like from his work desk.

Imagine this: Rhythm who's brushing his hair in a peaceful morning looked at Performance from the mirror who's stumbling down the stairs.

Rhythm thought he saw a ghost for a second.

In Performance's hands held a bunch of scribbled papers, that he called his masterpieces.

"Rhythm! Look! I finally found what's lacking in our previous show—it was a simple issue all along, people want more suspense!"

"Erm ... good for you, I guess? To be frank, what I think you are lacking is sleep."

Rhythm knew his brother will push his limits when perfecting his craft, especially when Performance isn't satisfied. He already warned him to look out his own health, unfortunately it didn't quite do well.

Even a bad review last year still haunts Performance till this day. Just. One. Bad. Review.

Rhythm just wants Performance to loosen up.

So he usually took his younger brother to the village's hotspring when their schedules are free.

Best bonding moment ever.

OH. They're orphans by the way. Their hometown is in The Wind Paths, then after coming of age they set off to other places—decided to reside in Village of Dreams.

They are finally happy here :D

[astralstudiosza-blog]

Unveiling the Magic Behind Video Production Companies

Welcome to the enchanting world of video production companies, where dreams take flight and imagination knows no bounds. These dynamic entities are the beating heart of the entertainment industry, weaving captivating narratives that transport audiences to new realms of wonder and excitement. But behind the glitz and glamour lies a world of meticulous planning, creative genius, and a healthy dose of camaraderie.

Setting the Stage: The Creative Hub

Within the bustling walls of video production companies, creativity reigns supreme. It's a place where ideas flow freely, and every brainstorming session feels like a cross between a TED talk and a strategy meeting. Picture a room filled with passionate minds, each armed with a notepad and a sharp wit, ready to unleash their creativity upon the world.

As ideas bounce off the walls like rubber balls in a pinball machine, laughter fills the air, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the hum of creativity. No idea is too outlandish, no concept too absurd. It's a safe space where imagination runs wild, and the only limit is the sky.

Scriptwriting Shenanigans and Storyboard Silliness

Once the dust settles and the laughter subsides, it's time to get down to business. Scriptwriters huddle around their keyboards, typing furiously as they bring the wildest dreams to life. Meanwhile, storyboard artists channel their inner Picasso, sketching out scenes with the finesse of a seasoned illustrator.

But amidst the chaos, there's always room for a bit of light-hearted banter. Inside jokes find their way into the script, hidden Easter eggs waiting to be discovered by eagle-eyed viewers. Storyboards become battlegrounds for doodle wars, with stick-figure armies clashing in epic battles for creative supremacy.

Lights, Camera, Laughter: Calling the Shots

As the cameras start rolling and the director shouts "Action!", the real fun begins. Directors morph into conductors, orchestrating a symphony of chaos with the finesse of a seasoned maestro. Behind the scenes, crew members bustle about like ants in a sugar factory, each playing their part in the grand production.

But amidst the hustle and bustle, there's always time for a bit of camaraderie. Actors share jokes between takes, easing the tension and fostering a sense of camaraderie on set. Crew members pull pranks on each other, turning serious scenes into light-hearted moments of levity. It's all part of the magic of filmmaking, where laughter and creativity go hand in hand.

Post-Production Playtime: Editing Room Escapades

As the final cut is locked and polished, it's time to retreat to the editing room for some post-production playtime. Editors huddle around their monitors, weaving together scenes with the precision of a surgeon and the creativity of a master painter. Visual effects artists work their magic, transforming raw footage into cinematic gold with a wave of their digital wands.

But amidst the pixel-perfect precision, there's always room for a bit of camaraderie. Editors sneak Easter eggs into the final cut, hidden gems waiting to be discovered by eagle-eyed viewers. Visual effects artists slip in cheeky references to pop culture icons, turning serious scenes into playful nods to the classics. It's all part of the joy of post-production, where creativity knows no bounds.

From Screen to Stream: Distribution and Marketing Mayhem

With the final cut locked and loaded, it's time to share the fruits of labour with the world. Video production companies dive headfirst into the labyrinth of distribution channels and marketing strategies, armed with nothing but their wit and a healthy dose of caffeine.

But amidst the chaos of marketing meetings and strategy sessions, there's always time for a bit of camaraderie. Marketers dream up outrageous publicity stunts, from skydiving billboards to flash mob dance numbers. Social media managers unleash their inner meme lords, flooding timelines with hilarious content that goes viral faster than you can say "lights, camera, action."

Conclusion: Lights, Camera, Camaraderie

As we bid farewell to the enchanting world of video production companies, one thing is clear: camaraderie is the secret ingredient that fuels creativity and brings dreams to life. From brainstorming sessions filled with witty banter to post-production playtime that feels more like a team-building exercise than an editing room, friendship is woven into the fabric of filmmaking.

So the next time you find yourself lost in the magic of your favourite film or television show, take a moment to appreciate the camaraderie behind the scenes. Behind every captivating narrative and awe-inspiring visual effect lies a team of creative geniuses who aren't afraid to laugh at themselves and support each other along the way. After all, in the world of video production, friendship is the ultimate special effect.

[theminecraftbee]

for writing prompts: some kind of “moon’s big” grian and mumbo shenanigans?

They're lying on the ground, staring at the sky. Neither of them have slept, although they could now; they've both stopped with the cult by now. Isn't much of a point, is there? So they could sleep. They'd be fine.

They don't.

It's so big, and so close, and Mumbo thinks that if he reached high enough, he could touch it, now. They've tied themselves to the ground so they don't, if they fall asleep, touch the moon, he means, but. He could. He could reach out, and his hands would brush the craters, and he'd get to feel what death feels like, when you touch it.

Next to him, Grian's quiet, but his breathing isn't steady enough to be asleep. Grian has wings. Mumbo, technically, has flying machines and elytra and if he thinks too hard he might remember that, right, Grian has wings, and if Mumbo has Grian's soul Mumbo ought to have wings too, because Grian's soul is the sort of thing that almost certainly has wings, but he doesn't want to think too hard, and -

"How high's the highest you've ever flown?" he asks.

"Hm?" Grian says.

"How high," Mumbo asks again. "I mean, gosh, I've used flying machines, and rockets, but you get totally different lift with those sorts of things than your wings. How high can you go?"

Grian yawns. "Um, not as high as a flying machine, that's for certain. Honestly, height limit's about my limit too - much higher and the air's too thin for my wings to be able to get lift."

"Oh. I guess that's true of elytra, too, except it's less work."

"That's why I use the rockets too, Mumbo."

"I guess that makes sense."

He looks back up at the moon. He imagines painting it, or building something to reach it, or both, or neither. He imagines a lot of things, because he's not very good at not imagining things. That's how that whole cult and not sleeping business had started, really. Now, though, the not sleeping business, it's more...

"That's high enough that it's very hard to breathe, though. That's why it's the limit. You can really fly that high?"

"Well, sort of," Grian amends. "I'm hardly the first bird to fly very high, though, especially on mountains."

"True, but that's not something parrots normally do, right?"

"Mumbo, don't tell me you think I'm actually a parrot."

"Well, no," Mumbo says, before falling quiet again. He breathes in. He breathes out. Dirt rises around them. Buildings are groaning. "To be honest, I never was quite certain what you were. You're definitely a bird, though, and you do dance whenever I play a music disc."

"Not always! Besides, who doesn't?" protests Grian.

"I guess that's fair."

They're quiet for a while longer. Nearby, a building makes a particularly concerning groan, and Mumbo reaches his fingers out for Grian's hand. Grian takes it. Mumbo breathes a bit heavily for a moment. The moon is so close, Mumbo thinks, that if they weren't tied down, they'd go with all of the blocks to touch it. They'd go all the way up, and they'd never come back.

Higher, Mumbo thinks, than Grian has flown before.

"Why do you ask?" Grian finally says. He is squeezing Mumbo's hand nearly as tightly as Mumbo is squeezing his. Neither of them comment.

"I wanted to know if you could touch the end of the world," Mumbo says, and feels awfully silly after he says it.

"I guess," Grian says. He squeezes Mumbo's hand tighter. "I don't think any of us have to fly for that, though."

Mumbo thinks his hand might bruise, if they both hold on any tighter, just like the rope is probably going to burn the places around his waist where it's tied.

"No, I suppose not," Mumbo says, quietly, and they go back to pretending they'll sleep. (They won't.)

[musings-on-aching-flowers]

Hi.....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from SVSSS? And your top 5 favorite moments from the novel? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

Hi again!

SVSSS huh… as the first danmei I ever completed, and one that I completed in one sitting, my experience of the novel was limited by my understanding of xianxia terms. On top of that, I didn’t realise that immortality also meant eternal youth, so for a majority of the novel I imagined SQQ as an old man, and SQQ’s internal monologue of unreliable narration confused me beyond belief, to the point where I walked away disliking the novel upon my first read-through - not even bothering to read the extras.

But over time (and with the help of fandom content), SVSSS as a story slowly grew on me, along with its characters and their dynamics. So with that being said, here are my top 5 favourite characters (warning, there be spoilers!):

5. Honestly? I’d have to say Shen Jiu - as in, the hypothetical, fully-fleshed-out, in-depth character that Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had originally planned for his novel. He’s honestly like a bit of negative space in SVSSS - there is a shape of his silhouette left behind after his death and we’re left to fill in the gaps alongside Shen Yuan. I think his character is incredibly compelling, even if not very likeable, and I like reading stories where people have attempted to fill in the mould created by the negative space and create an acerbic, hurt, spiteful person, who has built iron walls around himself after he was hurt so many times before - especially by Yue Qingyuan (an idiot) who (idiotically) refused to explain why he never came back for Xiao Jiu. His backstory is tragic and his reactions to situations become understandable to an extent, even if they’re still not acceptable. He has been very hurt in the past, and I’d like to imagine what might have transpired if he had the chance and ability to grow past the hurt, shame and envy.

4. Next up, we have our favourite weaselly author Shang Qinghua, otherwise known as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky! Honestly, I love how he is portrayed in the fandom as a completely nervous wreck, but in Shen Qingqiu’s narration we see him as more of a snivelling, thigh-hugging coward, so for that he is going here. I really enjoyed reading the extras from his perspective too (when I eventually got around to it) and how he seems to be in as much denial about his general situation, if not more so than Shen Qingqiu was. I also think that his faltering in the face of killing his favourite character is so painfully human and relatable, and just made me like him so much more. His dynamic with Mobei-jun is one relationship I keep coming back to in the fandom, since it has so much potential for humorous miscommunication and general shenanigans - because what is a King to a God, and yet what is a God to a non-believer?

3. Of course, how could we have Shang Qinghua in this list without including Mobei-jun? Mobei-jun is another character I really like, simply because of how much potential he has from what little we see of him in the story. I love how he mellows out in order to keep Shang Qinghua around, even learning to make him noodles to keep him happy. A dynamic like that honestly has so much potential, and it’s a bit of a shame we only saw a glimpse of it. Honestly, I would rank them higher, but I’m trying to go off what we see in canon, so I’ll stick him here for now.

2. And we’re at number 2! This one goes to our good old, BDE, stallion protagonist Luo Binghe. He is one of the most well-developed characters in the novel, and for good reason, considering he is one of the main characters (and the original protagonist!). I like how he develops in the novel. We see how the trauma of someone beloved to him betraying him impacts his self-worth and self-esteem, to the point where instead of looking for revenge from his Shizun, he just wants an answer, an explanation of his Shizun’s confusing hot-and-cold, or at the very least acknowledgement that he was done wrong by. We are first introduced to him as a novel character, but as we go through the story with Shen Qingqiu, we are made to realise that Luo Binghe is a fully realised individual of his own. His motivations aren’t predetermined by Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, they can’t be predicted by the original course of the novel and he has his own separate goals and desires, which may or may not have been shaped by the difference in his upbringing, or just the fact that he is an actual person in the world with Shen Qingqiu now, as opposed to a fictional character. And although he did a lot of growing up in the Endless Abyss, at the end of the day he is still young, and still seeks guidance from the only person he’s ever held as a teacher in his heart. I love this complexity about him. Also, as someone who has also experienced that hot-and-cold treatment from a loved one, I understand a lot about where he is coming from, because it is really painful to be treated that way, and you begin to wonder if the problem was you all along.

1. Alright, I definitely struggled with ranking a character in first place, but after much consideration I’d have to give it to our wonderful dumbass protagonist Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu is hands down one of the funniest characters in the novel. His narration is hilarious, and I remember thoroughly enjoying all the comedy of his ridiculous antics and how they are misconstrued by the people around him. He’s completely making it up as he goes, constantly lying to himself and spoiling his beloved disciple and protagonist Luo Binghe not unlike a baby, or - as someone else hilariously put it - a pampered concubine. As the main character and narrator of the story, we also see him undergo a lot of growth and development. We see him change from treating his peers as characters of a story he has to engineer to people with their own agency and autonomy. We see him initially affecting a lofty persona of a peerless immortal, to in time relishing this aloofness, and enjoying his station as Shen Qingqiu more than the original goods ever was implied to. Some things do remain the same though, like his near-constant use of memes and slang, and the thinness of his face, or how easily embarrassed he is, but that is what makes him endearing.

Now for my top 5 favourite moments! Forgive me, my memory of the events of the book is largely fuzzy and has been blurred somewhat by my copious fan fiction consumption, but these are the best and most memorable moments that stick out to me:

1. For sure my favourite moment has to be during the Holy Mausoleum arc, where Shen Qingqiu covers Luo Binghe’s huadian on his forehead with his lips. The tension! The confusion! The utter humorous ridiculousness of the entire situation! It’s such a good scene.

2. I also really love the other scenes during the Holy Mausoleum arc where a fading Shen Qingqiu is lugging around and staunchly defending the enormous comatose body of one Luo Binghe. The amount of hurt/comfort (my all-time favourite trope) in that arc is immaculate.

3. In the Airplane extras, where Mobei-jun lets Shang Qinghua hit him, but he pinches his cheeks instead and gets him to promise to make him noodles - they’re testing the waters more with each other! The relationship has moved away from master and servant! Yay for progress!

4. In the Airplane extras, where Shang Qinghua traps Linguang-jun in the circle of fire - I just like this display of Shang Qinghua’s loyalty to his favourite Mobei-jun, and how his cowardice, whether that be a cultivated facade or not, evaporates when Mobei-jun is in danger.

5. Finally, in the Airplane extras, when Shang Qinghua calls out for Mobei-jun, who steps in just in time to save him. (What? I really like these two characters, okay!)

Thanks for the ask! I hope this answer is satisfactory to you, and that you have a good day!

[cqlfeels]

Oh, oh! Can I ask for Jin Guangyao (and Jiang Cheng, if you feel like it?)

Are you A-Ling, anon?

JGY

one aspect about them i love: Does it have to be only one? Ugh, fine. I guess how much he sucks at being a villain? He is capable of being heartless when the situation calls for it, but he routinely fails to think the situation does call for it and that's veeeery interesting

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: I mean. Bad takes about JGY outnumber the stars in the sky. One thing I wish we talked more about is his complicated relationship with his family, which I feel often gets oversimplified. He does want to be a Jin, he'd never want to remain MY. At the same time, his mother drives his actions even more than his father. He's always walking a fine line between honoring his mother's memory and wanting to move up and away from his past.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: He does things like choose the provenance of the tea he serves at conferences to make political statements. It's very sophisticated and clever. His target audience is not smart enough to get any of the messages. He still agonizes over the choices. (LXC, of course, finds A-Yao's choice so delicately intelligent, but he's the one person JGY doesn't need to impress anyway, so it's still pointless.)

one character i love seeing them interact with: I mean, my whole blog says LXC and NMJ, but I have to say I also go feral over his interactions with NHS. (And babies. Audiodrama my beloved)

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: QS, of course. But also. I wish they'd thrown us a bone and let us see him with A-Song at least once??

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: MS used to love poetry, as much as she could get her hands on. She didn't necessarily have the background to understand very scholarly pieces, but she had an ear for the sounds and a heart for the meanings. To this day, JGY cannot read poetry without instinctively categorizing them into pieces his mother would or wouldn't like. He has a bound volume of all those who she loved best, and another of some he thinks she would've liked if she'd ever read them.

JC

one aspect about them i love: Congratulations, he loves people and it's incurable. This is much clearer in CQL than in MDZS but JC is deeply shaped by loyalty and attachments (LWJ foil, anyone? No?) and that for me makes him so much more relatable than he'd have been if he had other motivations that would fit in with his backstory, such as envy

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: He's not nearly as rude as people portray him as being. He's perfectly capable of noticing when he can or can't get away with being aggressive, and the moments when he can get away with it are fairly recent and far from universal. He's not nice like, say, LXC, but he's as polite as it's expected from someone in his position (which, again, depends on what his position in society is)

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: From a very young age, he's adopted the coping mechanism of actively trying to commit to memory special moments even as they're happening. This is not a bad thing, until it suddenly very much is

one character i love seeing them interact with: JYL!! Actually I even thought of putting her down as "wish they'd interact more." Their relationship is supremely underrated!

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: JGY. I've been into knowing more about their co-parenting shenanigans since I can remember. I wouldn't say I necessarily ship them, though, which also limits my options 😔

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: I just love to imagine Sunshot era NMJ and JC. I feel like JC would have borderline a case of hero worship.

[alfredolover119]

zukka fic rec list (modern au)

howdy! i’ve been collecting zukka fics i like since uhhh june and now i am sharing my lists with the world. i’m splitting it into three posts so it hopefully wont be too long. this is the third and final one: modern au fics! the other two are canon era and post-canon. [side note!! if youd like a specific type of rec list,, i.e. soulmate au, fake dating, ambassador sokka,, hmu and i’ll post a list !!]

within this post, the fics are in word count order! also, if you’d like a soundtrack for your reading, i might recommend my zukka playlist :^) happy reading!

it’s the lack of creativity for me by @theboilingrock

-1912 words, teen

-soulmate au, humor

The point is, the concept of soulmates was simple on the surface, but the people in Sokka’s life all had special and unique stories surrounding soulmates. So of course Sokka would be the one stuck with only the word “Hi” tattooed on his arm. [In which Sokka overcompensates for his soulmate’s limited imagination in the greetings department (seriously? “Hi”?).]

We’ll play hide and seek (to turn this around) by @engagedzukka

-5502 words, general

-bakoda-centric with background zukka, fluff, meet-cute (note: i had to include this one its just too good not to!! plus the ed sheeran title spoke to me)

Sokka has a plan to ask out the cute boy at the bookstore. Hakoda is a begrudging participant until he meets the boy's beautiful older coworker.

if the shoe fits by @bisexuallsokka 

-5742, teen

-college au, director!zuko and set designer!sokka, tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining

The stranger is still there, and he doesn’t seem in a hurry to leave. Zuko, on the other hand, is anxious to wrap up his work for the night so he can meet his uncle for dinner. “Can I help you with something?” // The man laughs. “I’m actually here for you. Short-tempered, badass scar, soft looking hair? You must be the director. I’m Sokka.” // Zuko sputters. “What? I-I don't...who described me like that?” // “Well, Jet just said short-tempered, I added the rest on my own,” Sokka shrugs. “He said you were looking for some help designing your set.”

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka 

-7167 words, general 

-college au, hurt/comfort, semi-deaf zuko, fluff and angst, mutual pining

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9470 words, teen

-college roommates, summer vacation, humor

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

always a plus one (never a groom) by @hotdamnitszuko

-13133 words, teen

-friends to lovers, humor, sharing a bed, hurt/comfort

Zuko and Sokka decide that the best way to get through the late-twenties wedding rush is to do them all together. As it turns out, being surrounded by people in love all the time will make you want to kiss your single and hot high school best friend.

swords of fate, pride of heart by @zukkababey

-13531 words, teen

-college au, online romance, zoom meet-cute, fluff, bg piandao/jeong jeong

Yeah, attending university via Zoom sucks. But it sucks a little bit less when Sokka gets to stare endlessly at the pretty boy with the cool swords and the cute cats without him ever even knowing. [Or, Sokka and Zuko "meet" in Zoom class. Flirtatious shenanigans ensue.]

earth system history by @pianjeong

-14084 words, teen

-college au, coming out, first kiss, sparring

Sometimes, you just need to sneak into the earth science lab at three in the morning with your best friend whom you are in love with. This is far more of a formative experience for Zuko and Sokka than they originally intended.

Kiss-Proof Lipstick: Fact or Fiction? by @flammable-grimm-pitch

-14171 words, teen

-sephora employee!zuko, mutual pining, idiots to lovers

Sokka gets dragged along to Sephora by his sister and Toph; Zuko provides him with a makeup education.

The Road Between Action and Inaction by @donvex​

-17548 words, teen

-road trip, slowburn, comfort, mutual pining, first kiss

Sokka does a shitty k turn in the parking lot across from the bus station, pulls up to the curb where the boy is looking determinedly at his phone, and rolls down the passenger window. “Hey! Which way were you going?” He may die, but at least his conscience will be clear. // The guy blinks at him. “Don’t.” // Oh, he’s prickly.

There Is COVID in Ba Sing Se by @koala-otter

-17783 words, teen

-quarantine au, roommates, friends to lovers, domesticity

The whole world is under lockdown, and Sokka and Zuko move in together.

Mass Times Acceleration by Haicrescendo

-19417 words, teen

-roadtrip, bed sharing, idiots to lovers, pining, underage drinking

[Zuko calls at three in the morning and says, tears in his voice and rage through his teeth, “I want to run away.” // It’s Sokka’s turn to carry the brain cell in his household but he doesn’t waste a second before he’s saying, “Tell me when and where—I’m coming too.”]

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23616, explicit

-fake dating, breaking up/making up, fluff, angst with a happy ending, humor

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. Things don't go as planned.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103016 words, teen

-college au, fake dating, strangers to lovers, slowburn, mutual pining, fluff and angst, miscommunication

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

[nikkxb]

Im kinda ticked we never got to see koga turn into a giant wolf (a la sesshoumaru) I just think that would have been cool, what do you think?

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AMAZING.

I would have LOVED to see Kouga's wolf form. Does his fur match his hair or his tail? Is his fur multicolored? How would he have cuddled up to Kagome? How big would he be?? What do the rest of the wolf pack do when he shifts? How does he interact with the wild wolves when in his wolf form? We could have had so much!!

On one hand -- when it comes to Kouga, we were fucking robbed. Didn't show his wolf form, didn't let him get revenge on his dead pack members, didn't show him using his Goraishi after gaining it, didn't see him travel with the gang for a bit of shenanigans. He deserved so much more than he got.

On the other hand -- I don't want to imagine what could have been ruined if the studio ever had those decision-making powers. So maybe it's better that we get to use our imagination. The sky's the limit and we, the lovely fandom, get to imagine all the ways Kagome could curl up in his fur to keep warm.

(I've seen a thought floating around on tumblr that Kouga doesn't have a wolf form because it wasn't shown and I 1000000% reject that notion, that you very much.)

[chiclet-go-boom]

nanowrimowut?

Well, I didn’t get very far, about 10k all told but honestly, it’s 10k more than I had at the start of the month and I did a whole bunch of daydreaming about it so I’m calling it a win. 

Here’s the first “chapter” of my indulgent foray into Emet-Selch shenanigans, with Endwalker mere days away that will no doubt turn all my closely held and personally satisfying head canons into so much confetti.

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

It’s the little things, really.

The heat of the stone through the folds of his robes in this case, just the right side of too warm so he doesn’t have to shift around to find a comfortable spot. He’s in the mood to be grateful for it when so little else has gone to expectation this day. The discomforts that irritate him so have finally had the time to fade into the background of his existence, but nothing reminds him of his temporary mortality more than scorching something delicate because he’s once again forgotten to check before touching. 

Omnipresent light has its downsides after all.

Emet-Selch dangles his feet over the ragged drop of the cracked wall, an easy hundred fulms to the ground if it’s an ilm and watches his current problem get farther and farther away. Sighing is fairly superfluous at this point but he does it anyway because lack of audience doesn’t mean he can’t indulge himself. After all, who will appreciate his sense of the ironic if he himself doesn’t bother to take the time? His booted heels tap against the stone, a rhythmic pattern.

The view is not improving no matter how long he stares at it so eventually he leans back on his hands and stares at the sky instead. Light, light and yet more light. A constant susurrus of it over everything like a particularly bad glazing. The hardest part, he’s long ago decided, is the constant, incessant ringing as the aether talks to itself over and over again, winding around itself in agitated helixes because it can do nothing else; unable to disperse, unable to dissipate, completely unable to find a way to escape.  

It’ll only get worse, of course, as this world edges closer and closer to its inevitable fall. A constant, singing reminder of how close they came and is now just the persistent backdrop of a chorus to their failure.

When he bothers to look again, all that’s left of his erstwhile quarry is tiny specks of disappearing shadow just now working their way up into the treeline. He leans forward once more, lightly gripping the edge of the crumbling stonework as the remnants of the so-called Scions of the Seventh Dawn are reduced to waver and smudge at the limits of sight. If they keep going in that direction they’re going to tip over into the bedlam of the ever so quaintly named Il Mheg and who knows when they’ll wander their way back out again. Or in what condition for that matter.

It’s probably a deliberate plan. He can’t imagine anyone, even this particular set of bullheaded heroes, stumbling into dreamland by mistake. He’d wonder what they expect to find in there but he has more urgent things to consider. If he’s lucky the flowers will eat them and he’ll be saved from needing to do anything at all. 

Tedious, boring annoyances mucking around out of nowhere, churning the tangle he’s dealing with into even more froth and foam. The insertion of Vauthry’s favorite attack dog during this latest contretemps between the rising forces of Pesky Interference and the dogged armies of the Status Quo had been both unwelcome and unexpected, even if it had provided some entertainment of whatever dubious value. 

He would have thought it a calculated move if he didn’t know better. So much more likely the Eulmorian general had simply slipped his leash to hare off into the light blasted countryside after his wayward little Oracle like a particularly rabid bloodhound. Vauthry is, of course, not one to think beyond the doors of his receiving room and problems out of direct sight were most assuredly out of his tiny mind. Ran’jit himself hadn’t seemed particularly burdened by idiocy but everyone has a blind spot or twelve, as well he knows. Chivvying your enemy into running from you was a lovely way to have them drop right into the pit you’d just dug for them, as Emet-Selch himself had used before to great effect and would no doubt use again. 

But truly, the General was starting to show signs that he might be more trouble than bargain, daring to show up here when he hadn’t been explicitly invited to do so and in the process frightening off the quarry before he’d had a chance to do much of anything at all with them. He truly hoped this wasn’t a harbinger of things to come. Insubordination as a concept was near and dear to his heart but with all else in flux he had rather hoped to find a place to observe a little closer and discover more about this ambulatory new plan of the Exarch’s, only to find said plan already haring off into the countryside without so much as a by-your-leave.

Still, Emet-Selch couldn’t bring himself to care overmuch. A minor setback, if that. The motivations of those around him were to be known only insomuch as they could be understood and manipulated and it’s not as if this also couldn’t be made to serve, with or without his direct involvement at this stage. With all his delicate adjustments to this teetering world, yet more chaos could only work in his favor. 

He’d at least been able to take some measure of Lahabrea’s last vessel during the little scuffle which was a small consolation. Certainly a pretty enough puppet if you liked them fair and decently skilled as well with that blade of his. No doubt his brother had enjoyed that part, what with his recent penchant for unthinking, frustrated violence.

As if the thought alone was all that was needed, the aether around him twists with discordant vertigo, a crawling, unwilling desertion as if the star itself flinches at being forced to make way. It takes but a moment for Convocation robes to blink into existence, close enough then to brush his cheek with a sudden press of bone chilling metal against his shoulder. The grit of reality remains unmoved beneath a booted heel that hadn’t been there bare moments before and is not really here even now.

It appears his brother has left his borrowed flesh behind for this excursion. A possibly foolish choice, but who is he to offer advice in this matter? One more dead body laying on a bed somewhere will frighten only a passing chambermaid and spread yet more delicious rumors. It’s not as if he hasn’t done as much himself from time to time.

Together they stare down the road.

“They appear to be getting away,” Elidibus says after a time.

“It does appear that way, doesn’t it?” Emet-Selch narrows his eyes against the glare and once more sighs, this time for his audience of one who, of course, isn’t going to be the least impressed but truly, it is and always will be the spirit of the thing. “Alas. Whatever shall I do.”

“As you always do I should think.”

“And you would be so, so right.” 

“May I assume this to be a part of some plan?” 

His lips quirk in amusement at the not-quite note of dry exasperation. “Would it please you to hear me say not particularly?”

“You know it would not.”

Emet-Selch rolls his eyes. “All this time and you still have nothing in the way of a sense of humor. I despair of you, I truly do.”

“I wasn’t aware that humor was a requirement.” Silky soft, his brother’s deep voice falls like ash. He’s heard it before pronouncing judgement at the end of entire worlds. He is the only one left who can hear the fondness threaded through it like ribbon.

He taps a forefinger against his lips, the supple stretch of leather protesting gently. “Well, it certainly helps pass the time, don’t you think?” This form has had this pair of gloves for over a decade by any reckoning and still, not a crack in them. Say what you will about Garlean savagery, their artisans knew their worth. And charged their weight in gold for it but what was an imperial treasury for if not to spend as one wished? “Still, as much as it displeases me to say and you to have to hear, let us not fall prey to the terrible habit of making more of what is and less of what isn’t. Although I admit I have yet to see anything that is immediately helpful in the disruption scampering after the Exarch’s latest pets, that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. And it’s not as if the old plan is suddenly and irredeemably broken. Bent, perhaps, I will concede. No more than that.”

“And you are Emet-Selch.”

“And I am Emet-Selch. And what am I, after all, if not the corrector of patterns?”

The heated breeze picks that moment to skirl up, bringing the taste of dust and stone. The metal filigree in the Emissary’s robes chimes to itself, an old brush of wayward music that recalls days forgotten. On a whim he presses his temple against his brother’s hip through the lingering chill of the fabric that is the gift of the void they move through and breathes out a sound to harmonize, making the air dance in reluctant delight. 

Elidibus rumbles in answer with the faintest exhale and that, too, is music. For that aching heartbeat it overwhelms the constant crying of the light and he closes his eyes against the ephemeral pain of it. So little remains now that all of it slices to the heart.

“Ah, well,” he says as the echoes fall and die. He shifts away, slouching forward on his perch to break the contact that has in the last instant become unbearable, hunching as if mere ilms will help. “Our Exarch has finally deigned to move beyond his crystal walls with these bright new pieces he has been collecting, so eager suddenly to play them upon this board which begs the question of why now in particular. If I have been caught sleeping the sleep of the righteous who do, I remind you, need to rest every now and again, then it is upon me to fix my lack of oversight. Even if I am not yet sure which thread will untangle this mess.”

“Why do you not slay the man outright? He is not beyond us.”   

“Do not tempt me. I have thought it, more so than ever as of late, but you must agree that his absence would be a hole not easily patched. The Tower alone, the blasted thing, would cry out for him and with all things in this new and annoying flux I would not risk losing more of what ground we already have. Unless you tell me to, of course.”

Elidibus is silent and Emet-Selch takes it for the acknowledgement that it is; that for all his sensitivity to the warp and weft of the turning worlds, he has no advice to give in this matter. 

It is true that he is as often against his brother as he is with him, both of their charges occasionally at odds but ever towards the same goal. It is true that should the Emissary tell him that the crystal irritation is to be shattered, he would do it without hesitation. But the resonating instability it would leave behind here in the First as the Tower lost its anchor might be irrecoverable. And if Lahabrea’s loss has reminded him of anything, it is not to trust that he sees all consequences to all actions.  

He is Emet-Selch but he is certainly not infallible. Witness the Thirteenth.

He looks again, only to discover his quarry is truly gone now beyond the line of trees leading into the rising hills, not even a drifting dust of leaves to show where they had been. “Ah, well,” he says, picking up the thread again, “fear not. I will find our new way as I always do and I do have some thoughts on the matter. I may very well decide to go with all of them actually, if only for the sheer confusion of the thing.” 

Between the singing light of the sky and the mask hiding within the shifting darkness of the hood it’s not as if he could see Elidibus’ face if he looked up, so he doesn’t lift his gaze. This is not a moment for reaching for anything more than he has already been granted, especially something as fraught as eye contact. Even should such a breach of manners be permitted while his brother’s soul is bare.

“Do as you do, then,” the Emissary answers finally. “The Source proceeds apace. Your Empire continues to crack along its fault lines and there is yet time to correct any imbalance there that arises. Yours is the timing now.”

Emet-Selch waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Yes, yes. Do take care of my little war in my absence, there’s a good little Paragon. You may leave the First to me once more. That is why you woke me up, is it not?”

An unexpected weight falls upon his head then, feather soft, the surprising cup of his brother’s hand. Claw tips made of nothing more than aether and will rest for a moment against his hair, long enough for his stupidly mortal heart to stutter with surprise before they slip through the sleek strands, scratching the lightest of lines across his scalp. He finds himself leaning once more against his brother’s side in unthinking response.

He closes his long eyes at the unexpected, piercing pleasure of it. Trust the fulcrum to know how to weight itself and others for balance.

“All paths.”

Emet-Selch sighs for the heartbreaking knowledge of it. “All paths, as always,” he murmurs. “Do go away now, you’re infecting me with your worry.” 

A flicker of air is his answer as Elidibus withdraws the comfort of his hand, stepping back off the broken wall into nothingness and Emet-Selch is left to brood at the heat and the empty road.

[jabberwockprince]

hold on hold on hOLD THE FUCK ON ON I SAY 

the raw potential of ???? Servant MC x Fitzie ???? ESPECIALLY if you ruined their matchmaking tests in Tally Ho by letting Mopsie and Figs get married and break off Frankincense and Rory’s engagement, the enemies to lovers drama, the tension and the emotional turmoil 

the two just slowly becoming friends who just argue most of the time, trying to bully or one-up each other like “MY employer won the boat race at Ritornello” “well MY employer just fell down a chimney and won the most dramatic entrance for the noble gases” but who will go OFF if they hear someone else talking shit about the other - the fact that THE epitome of perfection in the cardbury club AND its antithesis are just glued by the hip in their own weird way. SIT right fucking there and picture Fitzie’s emotional turmoil right now, they’ve done worse than falling in love with their employer, they’ve fallen in love with their (maybe one-sided, up to you) archnemesis. THE INITIAL STAGE OF DENIAL, THE SLOW DESCENT INTO LOVE, WHEN THEY CATCH THEMSELF SMILING AT THE SERVANT AND THEN THEY JUST BERATE AND SCOLD THEMSELF BC “NO !! BAD !! THATS SOMEONE I GOTTA BEAT IN THIS ARBITRARY IMAGINARY CONTEST IN MY BRAIN !!”  

Fitzie and the servant sharing quiet moments of understanding, ALSO sharing their respective pasts and finding a common ground they never thought they’d see (since the servant can also have the most unusual backgrounds like, a fucking lion tamer or whatever at CIRCUS ???? the servant FUCKS and thats final), and when they fall in love instead they keep trying to out-do each other just to catch the other off guard and fitzie fucking loves to get risky and just Go Out There Throwing Caution To The Wind sometimes. AND IF THE RELATIONSHIP IS PUBLIC ???? IMAGINE FITZIE BRAGGING TO EVERYONE WHO JUDGED THEM WRONGLY ABOUT DATING THE HOTTEST FUCKING SERVANT THIS SIDE OF ENGLAND. BUT ALSO the moments of insecurity when they’re kept apart by work and formalities and Fitzie WANTS to leave, pretend it didnt happen, assume the worst and so on but the servant keeps bringing them back bc what they have just needs a lot of work but its worth it. the possible over the top fights of “FUCK IT WE’RE DONE” but an hour later theyre already seeking one another unconsciously, looking for ways to make up or subtly and silently come to an agreement. THE MOMENT OF “YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE (your job and prestige if youre still working as a servant or something equivalent to that) OR ME” SIGHS

and then ??? the absolute dumbassery of Jolly Good MC x Rory Wintermint ????? rich kids in big scandals with intimidating aunts/quirky cousins who keep getting them in shenanigans ??? they become THE duo of the noble gases, the way they clearly shouldnt be mingling with each other THIS intimately, the fuss and conflict over whats proper vs what they want to do as young adults with big shoes to fill. all the failures that haunt them meaning absolutely fucking NOTHING because theyre having fun together in the present just playing billiards and breaking another window, sharing stories about their quirky servants and family outings and brunches

and then sharing feelings about not knowing what to do with their lives, feeling bad for depending on their aunts now that their respective parents/guardians are gone because according to aunt matilda and aunt primrose,  that theyre just not mature enough to manage their own finances or manage their own lives since they’re in urgent need of a servant to keep them in check. LIKE THEIR LOVE IS BASED ENTIRELY ON A CHILL FRIENDSHIP UNLIKE WHATEVER THE FUCK SERVANT MC & FITZIE HAVE - and honestly i have no idea how their families would even do upon learning about their relationship bc i got no clue about who supposedly has more “prestige” cause fuckin aunt matilda knows aunt primrose but theyre like the typical ladies who arent friends and just like to brag to each other but anyway 

dont even get me started on the fuckiNG POSSIBILITY OF ALL FOUR OF THEM DATING, THE SKY IS THE LIMIT, A RELATIONSHIP CAN BE 2 RICH FELLAS AND THEIR SERVANTS, THIS IS THEIR IDIOT POLYCULE, THERE IS ONE BRAINCELL AND THEY HAVE TO PASS IT AROUND aLL THE TIME

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

I'm fine with Lena leaving Luthorcorp because it was always her family's company anyway, but I loved that she had a legacy in the future. She's such an amazing tech genius, an expert engineer and who knows what more titles, so if not another company I hope in these 17 epsiodess left she creates something that can be her legacy. Something completely of her own, something for good and with no strings attached to anyone else but herself and her hard work.

See that’s along the lines of what I have in mind for Lena this season. It wouldn’t have been interesting for her to reclaim her family’s company again, she’s already done it in the previous reality. But now she can make something new of herself, something that is entirely hers, from scratch. 

But also, imagine what kind of shenanigans Lena “Workaholic” Luthor might get into without having a job. Like... just hoards and hoards of gadgets for the superfriends, she takes up watercolors, comes to the tower in sweats and headband like whaddup I got nowhere to be today... The sky’s the limit!

[a-libra-writes]

🌸⛅🥊💋💖🏥 for Ramsay boy 😏 (sorry if it's too much, lol, I don't know if I can send several at the same time, you can just choose one, I just really liked these 😅😅)

(oh my, this is a lot! tho tbf I didn’t give a limit! 😂 okay, putting this under a cut bc its a long boi)

🌸 Kissing

Ramsay kisses you like he wants to steal your breath. It’s always so sudden, so rough, and he brings you close to him like you might run away. It’s crushing, really, so you have to push him back and breathlessly tell him to slow down.

... Does he listen? Not really. 

You usually end up pressed against his firm chest and the cold wall, holding onto him as he bites at your lips and eagerly takes your lips. He’s just as breathless as you as he bites and kisses down your neck, and you wonder what’s gotten into him this time.

In bed, it’s just as desperate, but he’ll leave hickeys and rough kisses across your neck, breasts and thighs. He’ll bite where he pleases, even drawing blood if that makes you cry out and gasp louder. 

If you sleepily give him a chaste kiss in the morning, or a sudden one on his cheek in the day, he isn’t sure what to make of it. He’ll try to initiate something deeper sometimes, but other days, he looks at you with those intense eyes, trying to puzzle you out.

⛅ Sunset

Dreary as the Dreadfort was, it was still a proper castle, and you could climb to the top of the ramparts to watch the sunset, like you used to do at your old home. When you first married Ramsay, it was one of your many escapes. You hid in one of the older parts that was crumbling and wasn’t guarded well. You could disappear for hours up here.

Ramsay ended up finding your little hiding spot, though by that point, you had learned to handle him and live with him. He didn’t understand the appeal of just sitting still and watching a sunset. He was more interested in watching you.

He used to say and do things just to upset you, to annoy you, to make you cry or scream, but you never rewarded his behavior with a response. He hated when you would ignore him, and when your attention was taken away by a sunset, he became agitated and impatient.

“Just go back to the hall, Ramsay. I’ll be there shortly for dinner.” Gods, he was so stubborn, but you wouldn’t let him take this from you.

Finally, you lost your patience and took his hand. You command him to sit and put his head in your lap. He was confused, but finally obeyed. Like a spoiled child - maybe dog was a more accurate word - he was content to sit there while you pet his hair and freely watched the sky again. You can’t believe it worked.

Sometimes that didn’t work, and he brought his bow up to shoot targets he set up below. You weren’t sure when he did that. It was hard not to be impressed with his skill, especially considering how far away they were, and he was always pleased when you paid attention to his abilities. 

🥊 Exercise/Workout

You already know the sort of things he gets up to in the forest, and you’ll have no part of it. As a result of his wild upbringing and those “hunting trips”, he’s very fit and athletic. Ramsay has a lot of energy, you learned. Not even the rain and snow will keep him cooped up.

He would be so insistent on teaching you how to use a bow. If you already knew, he’d be delighted, demanding you show him and hunt with him. But if you didn’t ... You’d find yourself in the middle of several private lessons that were almost impossible to squirrel away from. Ramsay would stand behind you, giving you surprisingly clear instructions as you learned to notch arrows and aim just right. He’d even have a bow made for your size and strength.

A good way to keep Ramsay in good spirits was to endure the lessons and shoot with him. He preferred you to kill something, like a rabbit, but shooting targets was fine enough, especially as you began to improve. 

Roose didn’t think a lady should learn such things, but you were keeping his bastard out of his hair, so he didn’t complain.

💋 Intimacy 

He is rough and there’s rarely a reprieve from that. He always holds you a little too tight, kisses a little too hard, leaves one too many marks along your neck and collarbone. It doesn’t help that he has the energy level of a terrier, so he wants to keep going well after your legs are jelly. 

It surprised you how close he wanted you, how he wanted your hands on him - he’d put them there himself if he had to. He’d want you to kiss him back, to bite him, drag your nails down his back until he bleeds. Almost like with the kissing, it was like he worried you’d just disappear into the air if he let you go for a moment.

His favorite is when you’re facing him or in his lap, so he can trap you and keep you from squirming away. He doesn’t care about children or heirs, so if you don’t want him finishing inside you, he’ll listen and do it elsewhere which is fine because he likes to lick it off you.

When you try to slow him down, try to be a little more tender, it confuses him. He gets an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, and he wonders what to do. When you hold his face gently, or brush his hair away from his sweaty brow, or gently apologize for the bright red scratches you left on him... He doesn’t know what to do. It isn’t familiar... It isn’t bad, but ... 

The nights you’re most in control is when he’s utterly exhausted, totally physically spent, but still insists on being intimate with you. That’s when you can push him on his back and tell him what you want, and he’ll go along, too intrigued and tired to argue with you.

💖 Pregnancy

No surprise, Ramsay doesn’t heed his father at all when Roose goes on about producing an heir. Seven hells, he’s only a lord in title, it’s you and Roose who are doing a majority of running the Dreadfort. Roose often directed his frustrations at you - should you fail to do your duty as a proper wife, he’d find a way for you to be ... replaced.

It’s not like it was difficult to end up with child, given how often Ramsay wanted you. It happened, and when you told him, he was confused for only a moment. Ramsay simply shrugged, saying his father would finally stop bothering the two of you about it. So that was that.

He continued to not think much about it, but then you became tired. You were so tired, so fatigued, and often forgetful. You had even less patience for his shenanigans, and when he went looking for you, a handmaiden would inform him that you retired early. As you began to show, and your fatigue increased, Ramsay finally began to accept the reality. He still didn’t think much of what it meant, he thought of it more as “Y/N will be back to her regular self once that damn pup is out of her.”

(Honestly, he had so little parental love growing up, the entire idea of parenthood and children was just ... foreign. Something he couldn’t imagine.)

Ramsay hates seeing you in distress and pain. He doesn’t understand it, and it angers him that he has these feelings, but it’s true. So when you begin to really get along in the third trimester, he frightens the servants and handmaidens into making you completely comfortable, not upsetting you, walking and talking quietly, getting you whatever you need. He’d busy himself with even more hunting, getting food you especially liked, making sure it was totally cooked so the smell wouldn’t make you sick.

Roose was surprised, but pleased. At one point he made a cold, off-hand comment about how you could die in childbirth - but as long as you had a son, it didn’t matter. Ramsay turned on him so quickly, a guard almost stepped between them. Roose blinked, unaffected, but made a mental note to ensure the maester had all the tools and supplies he needed.

🏥 Taking Care of Injuries

As stated before, Ramsay hates you being hurt. He hates that he hates this. Sometimes it makes him so angry, he has to walk away. He doesn’t understand the sick feeling he gets when you’re hurt. 

The first time you cried, he was startled. For all the times he tried to do it himself, it happened when you took a bad fall from your horse. The maester was tying your ankle, worried it was broken, and you were quietly crying as he wrapped it. Ramsay was so upset, he barked at the maester to move and did it himself. 

Ramsay is very adept at first aid, actually. He has steady hands to sew up injuries, he knows how to disinfect and change out bandages or stitches. It helped keep his victims alive, after all.

When your hands were blistered from all the archery lessons, he took them in his rough, totally calloused hands and carefully popped the blisters. You flinched and tears sprang to your eyes, and he fought back the angry bile in his throat as he patiently cleaned them and bandaged them. 

Now that you thought about it, tending to your wounds was the only time Ramsay sat still and quiet.

When you pricked your finger badly from a sewing needle or a small knife, he’d hear your quiet curse and instantly go to your side. Ramsay just had to take your finger in his mouth. He always did, looking at you with those mischievous blue eyes the whole time. 

Whenever you have a bruise from something silly, like hitting a piece of furniture, he likes to press on it. He likes the discoloration on your skin, but he doesn’t like the frown you give him. So he kisses it, playing at being sweet, only to kiss up the rest of your body and take you in a needy kiss.

[yandere-ac]

yandere snake mayhaps? 👉👈

Yandere Snake X Reader

The letters

This was a nightmare. A complete utter nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. A few months ago, you had started receiving letters from an anonymous sender. And you had to admit, at first you thought it was sweet. The letters told about how the person always thought you were the greatest and how they’ve always wanted to be with you. You had No clue who it was but for a while you thought they seemed like a nice person. But then, the letters had started to get a bit more creepy. Talking in very disturbing detail about how they’ve imagined a whole life with you. “My dearest Y/N. You are mine and I am yours, until the end of time and all of eternity”. That is how each letter started, and with each letter it got more and more horrifying. And that was only the start of it. Soon the letters started talking about how they didn’t like the other residents and wanted to take you away from them. And by that they seemed to mean full on abduction since they stated, quote “They don’t deserve you. I don’t even deserve you. But I’ve started thinking. If I took you away, I’d limit your exposure of people not deserving of you to only one instead of ten. I’d keep you in my basement or loft. Just a place where no one could find you, and I could be with you everyday. I think about that so often. The only reason I haven’t done it is because I know you’d be sad”

This person, no, this maniac scared you so much. But it didn’t stop there, no, quite the contrary. It got worse in fact. Soon you started receiving disturbing descriptions of them stalking you. Like actually watching you through your windows. They talked about how cute you were and how they wanted to make you theirs. But when you started receiving gifts such as claws and teeth you went straight to Tom Nook. And that was were you were now. When you rushed into the resident services, you were shaking and crying uncontrollably. Tom imidiatly rushes out from his desk to ask what happened but once he got close to you, you just broke down, collapsing into his arms as your crying got more violent. By this point Isabelle had also rushed out from her desk. Tom cooed you as he slowly rubbed circles on your back, and Isabelle was also embracing you, telling you comforting things so that you would calm down.

After a while your crying died down to simple whimpers, Isabelle had fetched you a blanket and you were currently waiting for some hot water to boil as she had also offered to make you some tea. “So tell me Y/N, what did you say had happened?” Tom asked you, sitting opposite to you. “I’ve been getting these letters from someone and they are creeping me out. The person is also stalking me now and have sent...very disgusting things to me” you answered him, voice cracking several times as you do so. “I brought the worst ones so that you could see for yourselfs” with that, you handed over some of the letters that had made you the most scared. Tom took them and carefully read through each one. His face got more and more concerned and grossed out as he continued to read. By now Isabelle had come up to you with the cup of tea, you took the cup, hands shaking as you did so.

“I...I...my gods...this is truly unacceptable...we’ll have to do something about this. Do you have any hunch as to who it could be, be?” Tom asked you, putting down the letters. “That’s the worst part! I don’t even know who it’s from! It could be anyone!” You said, voice shaky and cracking. “Hmm...well do you have a hunch of who it possibly couldn’t be?” Tom asked you, looking at you. “Well...I guess you two. The able sisters. Timmy and Tommy obviously. Snake. And maybe Francine” you said. Tom, Isabelle and the able sisters where obviously not the sender. You knew both Tom and Isabelle and they would never do something like this. The face that Tom pulled when he read the letters alone convinced you. You also knew Mable and Sable. Mable was way to nice and cheery to produce something like the writings in those letters, plus you had seen her handwriting and it didn’t look like the one in the letters. And Sable just wouldn’t do this. You two were friends and it would just be to put if reach. Timmy and Tommy were also very obviously not the sender. And Snake and Francine were two of your favourite islanders, you hung out everyday. You trusted them not to do something like this.

”Well, would it make you feel safer to sleep at one of our houses tonight? Or well, some of our houses. I don’t think Mable and Sable are awake at this hour, and I’m not sure about Francine and Snake. But your always welcome in my house Y/N, I’m sure the boys would love it” Tom said, putting his hands together as he happily told you. ”And you’re always welcome with me as well! It would be like a big sleepover!” Isabelle exclaimed. This made you smile. These two were always so nice and polite. Always doing so much and asking for very little. “You two...thank you so much. You guys are to kind. But I can’t ask for that. I would feel bad. I’ll go ask snake, he’s usually up at this time and he has a comfortable blowup mattress” you said, bowing your head a little as you did. “Okey Y/N. But if anything happens. Our doors are always open”

And with that you went out, going to Snakes place. Strange, Tom though. As he looked at the letters, one persistent factor was that the writing was very messy. Almost jittery. But who could have written it? “Well, we should probably close up. It’s 40 minutes past closing time” Isabelle said turning off the lamp by her desk. “Oh! Yes of course! I had forgotten!” Tom said, quickly putting away his things. “Hey, you can leave early if you want, I can handle this. You’ve got your boys to put to sleep. They’re probably worried” Isabelle tried to convince her coworker. She knew Tom worked really hard, keeping up the island, making sure everyone was happy, and on top of that basically being like a dad to the twin boys. “Oh are you sure, Isabelle? It’s not to much?” Isabelle only laughed at this. “No no Tom, it’s alright I assure you! You have a good night now alright?”

You arrived and knocked on the door. Almost immediately the door swung open violently as the small rabbit gave you a big smile along with his wide eyes. “Hey Y/N!!!!” He yelled enthusiastically. You knew he had trouble with controlling his volume so you never got anger or annoyed when he yelled. You found it kind of endearing actually. He was just so full of energy at all times. “Hi snake, I was wondering- if it’s not to much trouble! If I could sleep at your place tonight? I-I know it’s very sudden and I understand if you don’t want t-“

“Are you kidding me!!! Of course I want to have you over!!!” As he said this he grabbed ahold of your hand and dragged you into his home.

On his way home, Tom couldn’t shake the thought of those letters. Who could they possibly be from?! He felt so bad for you, poor soul hadn’t done anything to deserve this. The only thing you had ever done was simply to care to much. You were a very empathic person and never gave up on people. Even when it came to crooks who didn’t deserve to be in your presence like Redd, you still remained patient and tried to help him. You had told him that you though Redd till had good in his heart and that you could help him. You had a heart so big it couldn’t fit inside that body of yours, but Tom worries about you. Because of your compassion it could easily draw creeps to you, and it had seemed that had just happened. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a small drop of water hit his nose. Looking up he saw that the sky was grey. He quickly pulled out his umbrella as he quickened his pace. Just as he passed by Snakes house he stopped for a moment, looking at the abode. “Oh I hope they’re alright...no, no Tom. They’re with Snake...he’ll keep them safe...” and before he could think any more of the situation he continued to rush home. He had two, probably worried, tanookies to read a bedtime story to.

Once inside, Snake dragged out his blowup mattress and started filing it up with air, ever time you had a sleepover with him you insisted he use a mechanical pump but every time he declined, saying that his lungs were well trained and pull of air. While he fixed the mattress you were in the kitchen, preparing snacks. You’ve been to his house so many times that you practically knew the place as your own, and so when he asked you to fix something to eat, you knew where to look.

“And so she asked me: Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the cutest of them all! And I answered ‘why that would be Snake! The prettiest bunny out there!’ And she got really mad” you laughed at the bunnies shenanigans, the both of you sitting by the mattress eating some snacks. “Really? What did she say?” You asked him, snickering slightly. ”She called Me stupid haha” Snake responded putting his arm around you as you both laughed. “So, Y/N. Not that you would ever need a reason to visit your best friend snake! But is there a reason why you decided to drop in here out of nowhere?“ you froze up, do you tell him about the letters? No, you didn’t wanna drag him into this. ”Oh No reason. I just felt like we should hang out more y’know?” You said giving him a smile, hoping that he would be satisfied with that answer and wouldn’t press you for the truth. Luckily for you his eyes lit up and it seemed like your answer made him happy. “Oh you’re so kind Y/N! I agree! We should just hang out all the time!” He answered tail happily waved as he said so. “Yeah, we really should...hey...would you sleep next to me tonight...I’m a little paranoid to sleep alone” you asked the rabbit, and you could have sworn that you could see his cheeks dust pink. “Sure Y/N, I’d be happy to”

And so, the two of you laid down together, you wrapped your arms around his small body and he happily complied and did the same, nuzzling his head into the crook of tour neck. You felt thankful for him, he was always so kind to you, and was always there for you. Any time you’d look even slightly down he’d rush to your aid and comfort you. By now you two were so close that it didn’t feel weird sleeping in the same bed. As time went on you started to feel drowsiness take over you. Slowly you felt your eyelids fall heavy. As you closed your eyes, you could feel Snake gently brushing your hair. And just before you drifted out of consciousness, you heard him say something.

“Until the end of time and all of eternity...”