#whoops i forgot to post this here earlier

[loopologist]

Finished project 🌿

I used the Calad Shirt pattern by Jess’Root Knots on Etsy. I did customize it though by making it shorter and omitting the collar! I do love the color combo - makes me happy to look at and wear!

[ectonurites]

And Keeping It Inside Is Worse Still (~5k)

“You know, of all people I get it,” she says quietly and crosses her arms, “Jonathan’s gone too.” “Yeah, well,” he starts, staring up at his ceiling, “Both El and Will left, so I get to be twice as miserable.”

Wrote a lil between seasons (S3 & S4) gay Mike Wheeler introspective character study sort of thing 👍

[00-to-the-cosmos]

okay... did anyone else have a source pet that you were really attached to and you have been through a lot with them and even saved them from a giant alien robot whos kinda like a bounty hunter and was also trying to capture you and kill your robot boyfriend but the pet somehow distracted the evil bot in the craziest way ever and your bot boyfriend could land a few blows so you three could escape unharmed?

just me? okay🧍‍♀️

[sandwhitches]

ೃ༄ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄? (𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈)

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: bokuto koutaro, akaashi keiji, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru & sakusa kiyoomi

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰: how they pop the question! (hcs + drabbles)

𝗰𝘄: implied fem. reader, mentions of marriage tehehe, mushy corny top romance

𝗮/𝗻: part two yayyyy!!! i wanted to post this earlier in the day but i unfortunately have to be a functioning member of society from time to time blegh. iwa's part is dedicated to my lovely moot @froyaoya who just gets it. sorry for any typos!!! also working on requests from the event still hehehe

(read part 1 here!!!)

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

» Look at this man, this beautiful blessing of a man, and tell me this is not about to be the showiest proposal ever

» He’s asking you to marry him and he wants EVERYONE to know (in the purest way possible)

» You knew what you were getting yourself into

» Is he nervous? No, maybe, he doesn’t want to think about it, OKAY?!

» Thinks the perfect time is asking you right after MSBY wins at finals, but one of his teammates (because he told them the plan…obviously) is like what are you going to do if we lose???? He almost dies on the spot because he totally forgot that was a possibility whoops

» There’s an easy way around that problem! Just win, duh!

Your heart feels as if it could just beat out of your chest with excitement as the last set ends, MSBY reigning victorious. Mind swimming with unadulterated pride, you’re already halfway down to the court once others begin to flood it, nothing you want more but the man who is currently wading through a crowd in search of you. 

For a brief moment, you pause at the sidelines, unable to find him, then remember Bokuto was probably in the midst of one of many interviews or something else much more important than a simple post-game congratulatory hug. Your conjecture is quickly smashed by the call of your name, paired with your boyfriend’s big, shiny beam of pure joy as he opens his arms for you. You let out a huff of laughter, then hurry over, practically launching yourself into his hold. 

Koutaro exclaims in delight, squeezing you close as he spins you around excitedly, “Did you see?!” You giggle, still holding onto his thick forearms as he places you down, “How could I not?” 

Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride before he bends over ever so slightly to give you a kiss that he’s been thinking about for the better half of the game. He dearly hopes that you didn’t see him dash off the court as soon as he was able to, making a quick job of fishing a ring box from his duffel bag on the sidelines as Atsumu cheered him on. Now, the box sits in the pocket of his uniform shorts, ready to be presented to you. 

“You did so good, Kou!” You add with an endearing smile, chest filling with warmth as his smile broadens upon hearing the praise, “Only because you were watching me.” Bokuto supplies in a chipper response, cheeks flushed. 

“I think you’re good, either way,” you chuckle fondly.

Koutaro clicks his tongue playfully, wagging his head back and forth in disagreement, “Nah, you’re the reason I’ve made it this far, after all.”

Though you beg to differ, it’s nice to hear it. You’re more than positive that Bokuto would have made it this far with or without you, still, you can’t help but count yourself lucky for being along for the ride.

What started as his hopeful attempts to impress you with showy spikes back in high school, what turned into a cramped downtown apartment, and what is now this moment that you share on the court. And while to you all of this seems so extraneous to his performance tonight, Bokuto can surely recognize where his motivation has been coming from, it’s only natural he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. 

“I want to be able to win every game in the future for you!” He declares, and it takes you a moment to register that he’s deadly serious, you’d nearly giggled in response, “I just want you to enjoy yourself, isn’t that what matters?” You speak up a bit over the crowd, head tilting. 

“Well, you’re right,” he shrugs, “But I also think you’re the biggest reason why I keep wanting to get better.” 

The sentiment makes a lump form in your throat, knowing that he doesn’t even mean to flatter you half of the time, he’s being entirely honest with you. That’s one thing you’ll never grow used to about Bokuto, how easily he can say something that knocks the breath out of you, and everything he tells you is undeniably true to what he believes. 

“So, that’s why I hope we can be together forever,” he adds with a simple nod, reaching into his pocket. You’re just about to agree, after all, he says such sappy things like this so often that it’s hard to tell when the words have more weight behind them. This time, you soon realize as he lowers himself to the ground, his words have the weight of the entire world. 

“I love you so much, you know? I’ll never stop, either,” Bokuto presents a ring box that looks absolutely tiny in his large hands, still, he’s ever so gentle in opening it to reveal a large diamond that glitters under the stadium lights. At this point, the people around you have paused their celebratory ministrations to watch, but none of that really matters to you and Bokuto. The most important thing in the world, you can’t ever deny, is the man staring up at you so lovingly. And coincidentally, you just happen to be the most important thing in the world to him, too. 

“I hope you’ll let me love you forever,” he speaks with sheer confidence and pride, as he does with everything else, “Can I marry you?”

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈

» Something simple but intimate, that’s just his thing 

» Definitely a winter proposal, Akaashi thinks the snow is just so romantic

» Takes you down to a snowy park to go ice skating (despite contrary belief, you probably had to hold him up almost the entire time, this man doesn’t exactly have any natural grace when it comes to treading ice)

» Afterwards, it’s the standard snow day affair, you two build a snowman and give it a name inspired by one of your countless inside jokes, the both of you engage in snowball warfare, he buys you a cup of cocoa and sits on the bench with you (and yeah, he helps you blow on it, he’s just that perfect)

» What you DON'T know is that all day he’s been waiting for the right moment to reveal the little gift he’s been harboring for you in his back pocket

You can’t remember the last time you felt cold in the winter at all. When you think about it, the icy bite of frozen wind hasn’t nipped at your cheeks in years, perhaps having something to do with the eternal warmth the man beside you incited, the sort of toasty comfort that made your muscles loosen and eyelids go heavy. 

Akaashi’s breath comes out in short, puffy clouds, then rolls out into nothing in a matter of mere seconds. The crunching of snow beneath soles of winter boots fills the silence and makes your heart sing, oh, how you love this time of year. Beside you, however, Keiji is struggling to discern what his instincts are telling him to do. Two separate thoughts of just do it now and wait for another time have been pestering him all day to the point in which he can no longer hold a conversation without feeling a nervous ache in his chest. 

“Ah!” You exclaim with surprise, tilting your chin up ever so slightly towards the cloudy sky. Akaashi peers at you first, then up in the direction you face, realizing that tiny snowflakes are beginning to fall down to earth once more. The world is so quiet during the winter, he thinks, even with the mirth surrounding the two of you in the busy park, the snow will always serve to bolster the sound in its milky white embrace. 

He chuckles to himself as you stick out your tongue, darting it upwards to catch a snowflake, and the sight nearly makes him forget about what he came here to do. If there truly is a perfect time, Akaashi isn’t sure he’ll ever have the confidence to pin it, but right now, things feel okay, they feel right. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs in a whisper, catching your attention. Akaashi doesn’t miss the snowflake stuck to your eyelashes, nor the stray speckles of snow glittering in your hair like sugar. Your cheeks flush, leaving you to grin sweetly at him in gratitude while he brushes snowflakes from your hair, “You know what I just realized right now?”

You hum, blinking up at him curiously for an answer, eyes training on the subtle upturn of his lips, the crinkle of his reddened nose. 

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” Your heart swells and a flustered, almost sheepish, giggle falls under your breath at the compliment. Akaashi can be so romantic, sometimes, and it leaves you wondering if he even knows what he’s doing to you…he has to, hasn’t he? Keiji clears his throat, “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about today.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you tilt your head at him ever so slightly, “What do you mean?”

Now it’s Akaashi’s turn to let out a sheepish laugh, slipping a knit glove off of one of his hands and placing it into his coat pocket, much to your perplexity. “I wanted to ask if you’d let me have this forever. There’s nothing else I’d really want more than this.” Suddenly, everything clicks in your mind as he reaches into his back pocket and lowers to one knee, that softened grin of his cracking into a wide beam once tears flood into your eyes.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to marry you,” the ring he’s since taken from the box shines so brilliantly under snowy sunbeams, and you realize Akaashi was right about one thing, this is the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him. 

“Would you let me have that? Will you marry me?”

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

» This is the world’s best boyfriend in case there was any confusion (which there shouldn’t be)

» Unfortunately this man wouldn’t know subtle if it slapped him in the face and stole his lunch money

» If you get your nails done, Iwa always pays for them, but he is oddly persistent about it the week leading up to when he plans to propose…which is kinda suspicious to you but you let it go

» He’s a big nature lover!!! He loves going on hikes with you (and doesn’t even mind in the slightest if he has to wait up for you, all he cares about is spending time together)

» Suggests the two of you go to your favorite trail and is absolutely relieved when you agree (Oikawa’s already headed over to hide in the bushes for three hours with a camera)

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you let release a drawn-out heavy breath of relief to have finally made it past the steep monster of a hill you and Iwaizumi had been dreading to trek. It’s worth it, though, it always is. The past few times that the two of you have gone down this trail, you’ve never lingered long enough to get the perfect view that you’re getting now, overlooking treetops gone vibrant green like everything else in springtime. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it for a second,” Hajime snickers, pulling at the collar of his shirt to cool himself down, and you can’t help but ponder why he seems so different today. For one, he’s taken every excuse to put his hands on you, holding your waist or lacing his fingers gently into your own with a periodic squeeze or two. Not to mention, he also can’t seem to be able to take his eyes off of you, which isn’t anything new in the slightest, save for a brand new depth to its usual shine that has puzzled you. 

“Are you kidding?” You scoff playfully, “I’m the one who almost had to drag you the rest of the way!” The two of you both know that is further from the truth than anything, but you still laugh, you always do. How can’t you feel such a dizzying high of joy when you’re together like this? Iwaizumi slips his backpack off his shoulder, presumably to grab a bottle of water, leaving you to admire the view once more. 

Today seems like it was made to be enjoyed, the trail isn’t as humid as it has been before, but it was just as lush, budding with the forest flora of early spring. Hajime noticed this too, in fact, not only is today perfect to enjoy, but he knows for certain it’s perfect for something else. And it’s now or never, he thinks, making sure your back is still turned as he grabs a navy velveted ring box from the front pocket. 

You glance back over your shoulder to make sure Hajime is sharing the view with you, that he too can see how terribly romantic everything can be when you care to notice it. He gulps, quickly tucking his hand behind his back as he comes up to place the other palm on your shoulder with a slight squeeze of affectionate warmth. “So pretty,” you note, knowing it goes without saying. 

Hajime nods, chewing on his lower lip in thought, until he’s unable to fight a shaky grin of excitement. You sigh contentedly, turning to face the sun again, relishing in the spoils of your hard work, and Hajime speaks up once more, “Today is perfect, isn’t it?”

You nod wordlessly, and he stares fondly as ever at the nape of your neck, knowing for certain that anything with you involved will always be perfect. That’s why he’s doing this, isn’t it?

“That’s why I thought today would be nice to ask you this.”

Your brows crease in confusion at the statement, prompting you to glance back over your shoulder again with a hushed hum, only to jump in surprise at the sight of him much lower to the ground than before. A hand flies to clasp at your mouth, Hajime gazes up at you from one knee like you hung the stars in the sky, and in fact, you might as well have. You’re the reason everything in his life is beautiful, why the thought of being without you is worse than death. 

“Don’t cry,” he chuckles adoringly at the sight of you falling apart, knowing it’s hypocritical of him to say with fat tears brimming in his own eyelids. Hajime carefully pops the ring box open, a quivering grin and creased brow are the only things standing between him and weeping.

“You know,” he starts, sniffling, “The only way I want to spend the rest of my life is with you, all I need to be happy is you.”

“Will you let me have the privilege of getting to marry you?”

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

» Showpony (in the most loving way possible)

» He was going to have an airplane spell “Will You Marry Me?” in the sky before Iwa shut that down 

» Bottom line, he needs this to be as romantic as possible, it’s the most important night of your relationship by far, after all!

» New Years is right around the corner and what’s more romantic than celebrating another loop around the sun with fireworks?

» I’d imagine you two would be in Argentina so on New Years Eve he’ll suggest that you head down to the beach to watch fireworks pop over the city in the distance

» Much to your surprise, there’s already a picnic set up for the two of you upon arrival (this man is so extra. I cannot.)

Fireworks occupy the inky sky in the distance, brilliant, vivid speckles of light begin to dwindle as they fall to the earth. You’re entranced by the display, the dazzling red of another large firework bursts across the sky like stardust, glittering on its way down. And while the celebration is a sight to see, Oikawa couldn’t keep his eyes on it if he tried.

In his opinion, you were countless times more appealing to stare at, the way your eyes light up when another crackling display of gold goes off in the sky, how the flickering lights make the shadows on your face dance. This is something he could never get sick of, it seems. 

“You’re staring.” You mumble under your breath coyly, giving him a cursory once over, then looking back at the fireworks. Oikawa laughs under his breath, “How could I not? You’re stunning.” 

As he expected, you groan playfully, nudging him, “You are the corniest person I’ve ever met!” Tooru likes this bit, the one where he tells you something he wholeheartedly believes and you pretend you don’t hear the pure sincerity when he says it, “It’s true!” He scoffs in mock-offense, “You’re so gorgeous, am I allowed to say that?” Oikawa tilts his head back with a whine. 

You’re looking at him now, still sitting cross-legged on the beach towel; and Oikawa’s bubbly mood quickly goes flat with the realization that you’re not just beautiful, you’re captivating. He’s not sure what he’s done right in order to be sitting on this beach with you, eyes lingering on the way salty sea air blows gusts of wind past you softly, sending your hair to ripple like tendrils of smoke. 

Just in those few seconds, he knows that he can’t wait any longer to ask you to let him have this view for eternity, and he’s hungry to walk straight into the future knowing you won’t stray too far from him wherever the two of you may end up. Tooru sits up straighter, fixing his sweatshirt as he shifts to rest on his knees, raring to figure out how to begin to say what he wants to. 

You’ve since taken notice of his movement, smiling softly in confusion at him while he gives up on fighting the urge to stare at you, brown eyes glimmering with something warm each time another firework bursts in the sky. “Can I make a promise to you?” Oikawa whispers, head tilted. 

With perplexity, you shrug, then smile with a focused eye on his expression, “Sure.” He clutches your hand, “I promise that I will always be here for you, even if you don’t ask me to be there, I will always make sure you know how much I love you,” Oikawa’s voice goes low with uncharacteristic solemnity, and you’re on the verge of asking him what this is all about before he shifts to one knee, bringing a black ring box from behind him to light. 

You can’t help but gasp, sitting back on two knees, face now leveled with his. You can perfectly see his expression soften, melting into something entirely new. Oikawa knows he is falling in love with you all over again, he’s been the head over heels kind of smitten, but now? Now his love has grown to become a need to have you with him in order to continue on living.

“And I…” the box opens, a diamond reflecting the bright colors spilling across the sky enters your watery vision, “I want to be able to make these promises to you at the altar, and I want to spend my life living up to them.” 

“Will you let me keep my promise and marry you?”

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

» Wants something quiet, you know? When it’s just the two of you guys, it’s most romantic

» You come home after a tiring day of work and he’s doting on you more than usual (which is saying a lot considering you’re the apple of his eye as it is)

» What’s this? Your hunky boyfriend made you pasta dinner? Oh okay.

» GODDDD no matter how many times you two eat together he always pulls the chair out for you even if it’s just at home, he’s subtle in the loudest ways about how much he loves you 

» Actually pretty nervous because doing something like this is so vulnerable and I can see that as something that frightens him a bit

» But it’s you!!! If there’s anyone he’d ever feel comfortable being 100% vulnerable around, it will always have to be you!

“What’s the special occasion?” You had snickered upon entering your dimly-lit apartment, raising your shoulders to make it easier for Kiyoomi, who’d taken to helping you slip out of your coat as soon as he’d finished kissing you hello. Your boyfriend said something along the lines of, “Just wanted to,” with that airy tone of his, donning a grin much larger than usual. 

Sakusa has never, and never will, be able to get over how utterly beautiful you are. Everything you do makes his chest ache with longing, even after having dated for years, he just has accepted that being around you will always make him go weak with adoration. “This is amazing,” you muse, twirling your fork around on the plate for another bite, “I think you should just take over dinner all the time.” 

The two of you laugh amongst yourselves quietly, “I can see it now, I’d love to come home to you in a frilly apron after work,” you add teasingly, tapping his shin with your socked foot under the table.

Kiyoomi simply shakes his head with a humored scoff, “I’m sure you would,” he drawls, taking a thoughtful sip of wine. He still can’t get over it, even thinking about it right now, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon and it’s not fair how easily you can render him speechless. In the candlelight, you remind him of a painting, a set of perfectly carved out features, each one intentionally placed with the utmost amount of care. You’re perfect.

Tonight will be the night that he asks you to please let him devote his life to you, for the simple feeling of him to be able to bask in your radiance. And if that, in your own words, means cooking dinner in a frilly apron for you every night, Kiyoomi struggles to really find any grievances he has with that. 

“I’d gladly do that for you,” Sakusa finally returns, earning a playful quirk of your brows, “Oh?” 

“In fact, you know, I’d really like to do that for you,” Kiyoomi stands up, much to your confusion as he steps to your side of the table. You almost don’t process the way in which he bends over to kiss the crown of your head on his way down to one knee, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“If there’s anything I want you to know, it’s that I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time, now,” Kiyoomi slips a velvet box from his pocket and your jaw goes slack in surprise, a hand traveling to grasp at the collar of your blouse. 

“You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with because you’re my best friend,” he says, voice faltering with a sudden onslaught of emotions, “And I think…I know that I exist to love you.”

You’re unable to speak, breath caught in your throat and hot tears threatening to overflow onto your warm cheeks, his voice comes out solemn and intentional, “I want to be able to love you for all the time that I’m able to.”

Kiyoomi presents the ring to you, a question he’s been dying to ask you for years forming on his lips as they part to ask it, “Will you marry me?”

[marbledquotes]

hey bud it's me ur bff kiers u told me to send u ideas here so hear me out! Saw a tweet earlier that was like 'they say kissing someone with brown eyes reduces anxiety and elongates your lifespan'

either jay abt alex or brian abt tim . Thanks (bonus points: they @ them in the replies under the main tweet and alex/tim just reply with '?'

First outright ship post; saw this and was giggling still when I went to answer It.

(Also forgot you said to tag them under the replies, whoops!)

On the topic of ships, someone tagged one of my posts earlier with timlex and I’ve been losing It /pos.

[nightmun]

Finally finished the intern drawing wooo! I put this on RDL earlier but I almost forgot to post this here whoops 😅

Anyways, here’s the product of nearly 20 hours of drawing interns! I tried my best to capture the vibes of everyone as best I could so hopefully I did an alright job! Now on to the ungodly number of tags hhh

@pageofthemicocee @c-underscore-rry @i-want-to-do-things @catlauncher1000 @mystorl @odxball @m3llowm1sh @sweetaplle @mogamingcanthink @sts-puelle @sirwow @emo-hermit @blossomaaoc @fufupng @herosplatling-replica @mochiiniko @pokeblog123 @lolatulips

I’m sorry if I forgot anyone! There’s a lot and I pulled interns from both here and RDL so trying to figure out who is and isn’t on tumblr is hard 😓

[writingforatwistedworld]

hi! I love your blog, you have great ideas for Au's and writing the characters.

Could I ask for Idia, Azul and Vil's reaction to which reader is getting married but chooses to leave their partner standing at the altar and run away with them? it was an arranged marriage or something

(yandere au, please excuse my english, I'm using a translator)

Yandere x reader

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, marriage, unhealthy relationship, kidnapping, imprisonment, illegal substances, manipulation, obsession

Azul Ashengrotto, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud-Running away from an arranged marriage with them

Ok, first of all, how was it even able to come this far?

I mean, this man takes everyone out who just looks at you in a funny way

No matter how suave he is with everybody elso he is a huge manipulative softy around you and… now you are getting married?

Mhm great ok but why isn’t he the one signing those papaers??!

Instead there is that random stranger who, oh goodness, looks just like a fool who would accept even a contract from the most obvious scammer in this world

And would you look at that? It’s a contract! With the fools signature!

Having no other choice but to hand you over your guests and whoever you were forced to marry can now only watch as you to vanish into the sea

“You are shaking dear. Were you so afraid of getting maried to them? Don’t you worry, I will take care of you.”

Well at least you now have the option to escape whilst you were chained to some stranger in the earlier scenario…

But how was our local octopus sushi roll capable of getting that signature?

Of course Azul wouldn’t just waltz into the room and take you with him

He might, and the keyword is might, have used… legal and less legal substances to make your now ex-fiance agree to hand you over in exchange for a stack of money

Never mind the two danger noodles who were standing behind Azul and hovered over them whilst signing the papers

But hey! You are now having a home here! Under water! With chances as good as none to anyone ever finding you! More time for the two of you... yay?

Ok, Vil is, in theory and sense, rich from being so famous

And somehow the person who set this marriage up was able to push through with the preparations without problems?

Uh... is this some weird parallel dimension?

Despite his harshness whenever beauty (and how dry your hands looked) was presented in the discussions you two shared until now he is... in truth very tender whenever he is thinking about you

Rook being a menace? Show him a photo of you and he is silent once more

Epel didn't do his skincare routine again? Tell him something about you he didn't know and he is doing it for the young man

An assistant during a modeling gig spilled coffee over his clothing? Mention you and he is calm

Tell him that you are getting forcfully married off? Well then... oh uh... I think there is nothing there to stop him from breaking down the door

Epel and Rook also there, the first ready to snatch the cake and the second there to protect Vils “beau visage” (I can already feel the French going for my throat)

Yeah, that refined, cool mask is off and he is ready to burn the building to the ground, public image be damned!

Vil, sweety, I think you are stealing a certain faes role... TAKE THOSE FLAMES AWAY FROM ME!!!

But *ahem* back to them burning down buildings

Before you know it Vil is carrying you bridal style whilst scowling that things got this far

Oh? Happiness? Yes. You will experience that for a while... until you realize that you are trapped in a golden cage filled with skin care products and luxury brands... and oh! Almost forgot! With Vil Schoenheit himself, the legend, taking care of you

But how was he able to make sure no one found out about the incident?

Well, now there is a new kind of beef. Vil posted that there was a certain individual who had been harassing him and who wants to end his career with lies. Whoops! He also leaked their account!

But my dear, don't you worry about that. All you need to do is to stay in your little golden cage, stand in still like Snow White did in her coffin and just enjoy the presence of your beloved. No need to think about someone who will be hunted down soon by an angry mob after all...

You would be pardoned to think “Idia is a shut-in. No way he will blow that marriage up!”

I said pardoned, not being correct

You see, he might not be able to so much in person but that doesn't mean he behind a screen can't

No, seriously, take that PC away before he ends them once and for all

Also, you can ruin someone without a huge following on social media

Just be someone who can hack and is able to manipulate someone's data in their files

Suddenly police is storming the room, screaming at your fiancee to raise their hands slowly

Mhm, that was Idia

So still standing there in shook you didn't even notice the younger Shroud brother guiding you to his sibling

And that was where the awkward silence began

I mean, you were his sun, Hades Olymp, so close and yet so far away...

So how could he ever bear seeing you with another person?

Probably the best one to end up with of these three. He will not force affection upon you (being too shy himself), give you too much direct attention (only looking at you when you are distracted) and will even create a simulation of the outside world just for you

But why does the air feel so tense? Why does it feel like you have entered into a place beyond return, as if you are trapped in the Underworld?

Wes it his staring whenever you slept, catching him whenever you woke up and barely opening your eyes? Or were it the little touches of fingertips whenever he gave you something, feeling as if you had been burned

But no need to worry! They are gone and you are free! In his own, small world...

[canonkiller]

was wondering why my math didn't add up I forgot to post two earlier things here. whoops

[blizzardstarx]

Here is Queen Paradox of the ShapeWings! Also more information about the roleplay Pontalo was made in, and fun facts!

whoops i forgot the masterlist here it is

she kinda looks like Freedom…

I wanted to combine her original design, a fiery phoenix named Eternal Flame, into her colors, and the LeafWing greens. Also the pink is the exact pink Dolphin’s bioluminescent scales are.

Soooo for her entire backstory I gotta explain what the roleplay was about

The roleplay was called Creature School, about… creatures. At a school. Paradox, or Flame back then, had four forms (we could have up to four forms total): A fiery colored phoenix, a manticore, a wolf with wings, and a dragon that I forgot the description for, but it wasn’t a particular species.

In the earlier parts of the roleplay, like in the 260s (pages, each page had 10 forum posts, so this roleplay had around 8740 posts) the first instance of the Pontalonion dragons was the map. I think Eclipse was the first Pontalonian dragon I created, but Torrent was changed a shortly after to be first a reincarnation of King Tiger Shark, but then later, an actual HydroWing. Paradox discovers and remembers she’s a ShapeWing and the long lost queen when Eclipse gives her a scroll of the Pontalo tribes, and she hears it in her dreams of her memories of the Great ShapeWing Genocide. She is frightened of BloodWings, who are shortly introduced a couple of pages in the roleplay, the first BloodWing called Diabolos, who was a minor villain.

Torrent and Paradox had three eggs, (in the 300s) Shapeshifter, who mostly looked like a ShapeWing, Dolphin, who looks like a mix between a ShapeWing and HydroWing, and Seashell, who mostly looks like a HydroWing.

Another BloodWing named Abaddon, but not actually a BloodWing and is a seperate species in disguise, opens portals that allowed creatures from other universes to come. This was called the portal plot. It was around page 370-480. They had to stop him and shut the portals after returning the new people.

The school had been destroyed multiple times, (like three times, spread out in the 50s-200s) and the final school the ogs (they were students at the beginning) (Flame, Dagger, Misty, and Fang, which my three friends and I played) created and were the staff/administration, lots of our ocs attended. Paradox’s dragonets attended, too. There was a motto that all creatures were equal or something like that, bullying was not permitted.

The roleplay focused on a school plot on and off, but it was basically the insane adventures of the ogs and later other ocs. It was focused in the first 100-200s? and then in the 600s and mentioned sometimes

Knight the SwordWing was born in the 500s! He ran off from his adoptive parent who was played by one of my friends and wanted to prove to others? idk, but he had to fight off monsters sent from the Shadow Tribe that were designed to kill SwordWings for their defection. (SwordWings were actually supposed to be a Shadow Tribe defecting tribe, not BloodWings, but then I got the idea of them being former BloodWings.)

He found the ruins of the SwordWing kingdom and found his sister’s egg, protecting it from monsters.

The king of the SwordWings, Knight and Dauntless’s father, was named Sharp.

Dolphin was bullied by some SeaWings for looking weird, (page 670s) as HydroWings were thought to be extinct, and she fled school after Paradox stopped them and tried to comfort her, flying off to the ocean, and discovering the long lost HydroWings.

The Pontalonian dragons exist at the same time as the modern Pyrrhian and Pantalan dragons, but Pontalo was also there long before they were, before the Scorching. The other tribes barely know they exist, and only HydroWings were known to the Pyrrhian dragons, thought to be long gone.

ShapeWings are probably what Freedom was, or was descended from. Some ShapeWings probably traveled to Pyrrhia and Pantala and settled down there, eventually leading to the Scorching.

The roleplay was abandoned at page 874, everyone just stopped replying.

So, in short: Paradox was queen of the ShapeWings, then the genocide happened, she flees, gets amnesia after crashing on the roleplay’s land, and becomes a student, then staff, then gets a memory and reminder that she’s the ShapeWing queen. She stays on the land and slowly but surely repopulates the ShapeWings, but they all have HydroWing blood because of Torrent.

Fun facts now that I’ve reread parts of the roleplay:

The Great ShapeWing Genocide was called The Great Blood War

Eclipse was a SunWing-MoonWing hybrid, she got kicked out of her tribe and landed in Pyrrhia (where the roleplay was at in that part). She played a big role in a part of the roleplay, and she had an ex-mate named Cloud (An AirWing, which was probably my earlier version of a LightWing) who was an animus

MoonWings changed form under the full moon, their scale colors grew darker, and their spikes grew longer and sharper. Their bioluminescent scales were brighter. Also they did have a language with their bioluminescent scales, like Aquatic. However, they’re about blending into the shadows, and I removed the language because it would give them away.

there was a LightningWing named Thunder and one of my friends played a SunWing named Solar

Solar and Eclipse were supposed to get together but idk what happened to them

Eclipse is mentioned later in the roleplay and has Helios as a mate. I don’t know if it’s the same Eclipse though

Pontalo had some rules, animus dragons can only use their magic once, no hybrids, and… never show mercy to a tribe?? dumb rule but it was why the ShapeWings got wiped out but like these rules arent in place now. they suck

Torrent was supposed to be a SeaWing commander that got banished for a false accusation of “trying to kill the SeaWing queen” who was his sister, and the SeaWing king’s name was Lobster lmfao

also my friend had a few other dragon species?? RockWings, SilverWings, and TribeWings (who had three pairs of wings?). Huh. They were never mentioned again

There were supposed to be five Pontalo tribes, AirWings, MoonWings, SunWings, ThunderWings, and FireWings. ShapeWings were added later as an explanation to why Flame could change into a bunch of forms, not just those four main ones, and the genocide was setup for her backstory. HydroWings were just an ancient Pyrrhian tribe as setup for the SeaWings, but they were changed to Pontalonian somewhere in the roleplay.

the old Pontalo map looked like this

ThunderWings, now changed to LightningWings, had electric scales that could shock to the touch and were great swimmers. “They charge their scales by getting struck by lightning on their ‘lightning rod’ on their nose.” FireWings have flame scales and could scorch dragons with their touch.

SunWings were based on Heliolisk, they (were) small, had those frills on their necks, sluggish at night, and they get energy from the sun which charges up their scales. They could blast a beam of light from their mouths.

There was a tribe called the ColorWings, who were more like the RainWings and painted, which I combined into the original ShapeWings (that could only shapeshift) into the now ShapeWings.

For some reason Knight could like. Transform into his father?? Well, into the shape kinda?

In this roleplay and another roleplay I did two years ago, Knight and Dauntless can curl up into a spiky armored ball and roll at people as a form of attack. It’s funny, I’m making it canon.

There’s probably a lot of things I missed, but oh well, I don’t like rereading my roleplay stuff. It’s really bad.

@castiels-destiny

Edit:

[strawberryglowup]

Tuesday, September 10th, 2024 —

Whoops, I forgot to post this reflection yesterday! I remembered right as I was going to sleep and figured it would be better for my brain and body to get to bed rather than to stay up later and write the reflection. I was already in bed later than I wanted to be, but that's okay, I'll do better tonight! Going to talk to my ADHD coach about sleep this evening. Anyway, here is what I got up to! 💕

Accomplishments:

Went to work even though I was feeling really overwhelmed and unprepared due to everyone in the house having covid, and I'm so proud of myself for going and not just working from home! Still testing negative, too.

Helped calm down a difficult client, my coworkers were impressed :')

Even though I was exhausted and told myself I'd do my night routine later than normal and just have a rest first, I actually convinced myself to just get up to start the routine to see how much I could do and I ended up getting all of it done right away! I was so proud of myself for pushing through and it really helped me out later in the evening, so that was so lovely and I'm so proud!!

Started feeling ADHD paralysis because of my low-energy and because my room was an absolute disaster, so I put on a timer for ten minutes and decided to clean for just that amount of time. Ended up cleaning my whole room while I called my best friend, it was so productive and fulfilling!

Got TWO loads of laundry done AND put away while I was in the zone, too!

Watched some informative videos on ADHD and OCD that really helped me with my brain; might post what I found out later!

Room for Improvement:

Even though I got a lot done, I could have gotten to bed earlier. Definitely felt like I needed more sleep when I woke up today. Going to talk to my coach about that tonight.

I also should have done my reflection earlier so that I wasn't thinking about it right before bed. I want to make this a consistent part of my day!

Daily Checklist:

Avoided bad habit #1 — eleventh day! 💕

Reported on my tumblr account — whoops, missed it! ✨

Completed evening routine right after work — second day! 🌙

[tiredcatboysinc]

Is it literally 10 minutes till 12am rn? Yeah. Will I be posting this anyways? Yes :3c

Here's an angsty ass TSP fic I wrote earlier today and I completely forgot to post!... Whoops (꒪ᗜ꒪ ;;)

----------

Words: 857

AO3 link

Summary: "Stanley, Stanley promise me you won't leave me like that again alright?" The Narrator was on the brink of tears, it was evident in the way his voice shook and he croaked his words from a dry throat. Stanley stared at the camera with a feeling of dread, he wanted to promise that to his Narrator, promise him he would never leave his side again, but he knew how unpredictable this game was.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Narrator has so many trust issues, also probably fear of abandonment, Post skip button, Like it happened just a reset before, Narrator and Stanley both remember the resets, Men are crying, Not beta read-

A hollowed-out look sat on Stanley's face as he stared off into the distance of his office, leaning back in the rolling chair and his thoughts slowly began to click and register in his head. That was awful. The feeling of loneliness was overwhelming him, but most importantly, the feeling of absolute dread was filling his throat as he sat in the silent room. Normally The Narrator would have started bugging him to move or to just react in some way, but there was none of that. It was just silence, and the air was so thick Stanley felt like he couldn't breathe.

Finally, Stanley takes a long and harsh breath and glances up at the camera in the corner of the room. He stared at the camera for a long moment, hoping The Narrator would say something, anything, yet no noise was given. Had this all been Stanley's fault? Or maybe those stupid commenters who left the reviews? Either way, it was clear it had bothered The Narrator and Stanley wanted to help. He starts to speak, but a small, extremely saddened sigh, cuts him off. Sitting quietly in his office chair Stanley clutched his work shirt sleeves, staring up at the camera with a worried look as he tilted his head.

The Narrator lets out small grumbles of mushed-together words, the words were unintelligible to Stanley. Stanley swallowed a lump in his throat as he heard The Narrator shift papers around, something hitting the desk harshly behind the camera. Narrator lets out another sigh and the sound of his chair squeaking is heard. "Stanley... Do you remember what just happened?" The Narrator questioned, his tone of voice sounding drained and with a tinge of fear. Stanley looks off to the floor, nodding as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt sleeve. Grumbles of anger, or displeasure, are heard before the Narrator begins speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Stanley... I'm sorry I put you through that..." His voice is much softer, and Stanley honestly thought his Narrator was about to cry. He flips his head around the camera, a look of worry on his face. Narrator grumbles a small curse under his breath, it's clear to Stanley that there's more bothering him. Stanley tilted his head, his brows furrowed anxiously. "I... I don't know what I would have done if you had gotten trapped for much longer, Stanley. I think... I think I might have gone mad." He sounded so empty, his voice filled with sorrow. Another shuffle of papers and a chair squeaking is heard, and Stanley was beginning to get a little tense. He could feel the misery in The Narrators words, and he couldn't help but think it was his fault.

"Stanley, Stanley promise me you won't leave me like that again alright?" The Narrator was on the brink of tears, it was evident in the way his voice shook and he croaked his words from a dry throat. Stanley stared at the camera with a feeling of dread, he wanted to promise that to his Narrator, promise him he would never leave his side again, but he knew how unpredictable this game was. Stanley looks away, and a small shakey breath is heard from The Narrator. "I'm... I'm sorry Stanley, I don't know what's come over me." He was crying, the tears were rolling down The Narrators face and cascading into the desk below. His voice cracked and shook as he spoke, his breath coming out in short hitches and gasps.

"I... I... Goddammit. Stanley, please don't leave me, I don't know what I'd do with myself." The Narrator lets out a shaky exhale, sniffing and wiping his eyes as is clear by the sound of fabric shifting. "Just please, Stanley. You're the only person I've come to enjoy being around..." Stanley stared up at the camera, his own eyes starting to well with small tears. Never once had The Narrator ever been so vulnerable with him, and never did Stanley know that the Narrator enjoyed being around him... Stanley swallows the lump in his throat and holds his tears back, giving a small nod to the camera in confirmation.

He wasn't going to leave, he would stay for as long as The Narrator wanted. Narrator lets out a hitched breath, sniffing once more before he speaks. "You promise, Stanley? Please, please don't go leaving me again." He spoke in a sorrow-filled and broken voice. Stanley nodded once more, a soft smile on his face. "I promise." He spoke, the first words he had said in this whole ordeal.

That sent a wave of relief over The Narrator, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Th...Thank you, Stanley." The Narrator sniffed once more, wiping the tears from his eyes to attempt to regain his composure. "Here, why don't I reset and we can go lie down for a while hm? That sounds nice right now..." He sounded much calmer, but his voice still had a tinge of anxiety in it. Stanley laughs softly while he nods, giving a thumbs up to the camera and allowing Narrator to reset the game.

[polutrope]

For the modern AU holiday prompts @i-did-not-mean-to requested Beren + accidental drunkenness, and MoonLord requested Thingol, Beleg, Túrin, and Mablung + Decorating a tree. ~2.2k words, rated G. [The Edain in this AU are officially whatever age and relation I want them to be.] Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list (prompts closed). Beleria Cast of Characters

The flamboyant man at the booth in the back cried out, “Another round for the bar!” and Beren and Lúthien joined the patrons in a celebratory whoop.

Lúthien threw her head back and laughed as a server set two more two more beers on the table.

“I can’t believe this guy,” she said to Beren. “Who is he?”

“His name is Saeros,” the server answered. “A regular. I think he owns a record label or something. Celebrating a chart topper.” She smiled and cleared their empty glasses. “Enjoy.”

“No way,” Lúthien said, and left her mouth hanging open.

“What?” said Beren. Lúthien continued to gape. “What, what? You know him?”

“Yeah! Saeros Green. He offered my brother a record deal years ago.”

“And Daeron turned it down?” Beren asked.

Lúthien dipped her chin affirmatively with an air of pride. “He did. The guy is a smarmy bastard. Milks his artists for everything they’ve got. I mean, look at him!” Lúthien said, gesticulating with both arms in his direction. “Look at all that bling! And the red velvet suit, on a Thursday afternoon, really? Looks like he got in a fight with the Yule display at Mírdain Mall!”

“Ssshh sssh,” Beren said, giggling. “He’ll hear you! Anyway, I like him. Free booze!” He raised his glass in a toast and took a large gulp.

Lúthien was laughing when he lowered it. “You have foam in your beard!”

Beren grinned, making no effort to remedy the situation. “How do I look? More wizened?”

“Like an idiot!” Lúthien blurted, and laughed again.

She was so beautiful. Beren fell into a besotted stupor, staring at her face lit with mirth, listening to her musical laughter… he could die happy right here, right now, getting day-drunk with the most beautiful woman in the world—

“Beren,” she said. “Beren! Your phone is ringing!”

“What, birdie?” he said, surfacing.

“Your phone!” she said, and shoved it into his hand. “Someone’s calling you.”

He looked at he call display: Morwen Ethel-Wang. “Shit,” he said. “Shitshitshit.”

The call dropped before he could answer. Lúthien stared, awaiting an explanation.

Beren exhaled a long breath before giving one. “You remember a few months ago when we talked about my buddy Húrin’s son staying with us for a few days while his wife is at a conference in town?”

“Oh yeah!” Lúthien said. “When’s that happening?”

“Um,” said Beren. “Today. They’re at our place now.”

“Shit,” said Lúthien.

*

On the monitor, the minutes of the last City Council meeting swam in and out of Elu’s vision. He sighed. The permanent bikeway through Hithlum park had been voted down. Again.

His eyes drifted to the thick folder of letters his intern Beleg had dropped on his desk earlier, from the Hithlum Homeowner’s Association — all variations on the same template, laying out the supposed dangers of a “bike superhighway” through a “family-oriented” neighbourhood. Since when were bicycles dangerous? He pushed the folder aside. Well, they got what they wanted.

It was those damn developers from Valin! Hithlum used to be the alternative neighbourhood back in the 80s, where the artists and students hung out, now it was overrun with wealthy— Elu took a deep breath. He valued the diversity of Beleria. He did. But by god if it didn’t make it impossible to get anything done in this city! You would think, as Mayor, that your word actually meant something—

His phone pinged.

Lúthien💮💗

Hey papa! I know you’re working but I have a biiiig favour to ask.

3:14pm

Elu Singh-Goel

What is it, sweetie?

3:15pm

Lúthien💮💗

Sooo Beren has this friend and his kid was supposed to stay with us this weekend and we kinda forgoy

forgot*

Anyway him and his mom are at our place now and we’re… not lol

3:16pm

Elu Singh-Goel

Oh? Where are you?

3:18pm

Lu?

3:21pm

Lúthien💮💗

Sorry!!

We went to Gabilgathol for lunch and accidentally got drunk

3:23pm

Elu drew back from his phone. That was not like his daughter. It was times like these he found it most difficult to accept her choice of partner. Beren was an admirable man, with respectable ambitions, but he was so young. Accidentally drunk…

Lúthien💮💗

Some guy was buying rounds for the house lol

3:24pm

Elu Singh-Goel

I see. And how do I come into this?

3:25pm

Lúthien💮💗

Can she bring Túrin to the office?

3:25pm

Túrin is the kid

Just for a couple hours! Nellas says she can take him tonight if we’re not sobered up

hahaha

3:26pm

Beren says he’s quiet. Just give him some crayons and paper.

3:28pm

Elu’s thumbs tapped out ‘OK’ before his mind had a chance to catch up. He stopped them, hovering over the send button. What had happened to him? There was a time he would have locked Lúthien up in her room for the weekend for getting drunk at 3pm on a Thursday! — but he couldn’t very well lock up an adult woman. Certainly not one he was going to lose.

Well, not lose. Not entirely — that had almost happened, when he’d tried to talk her out of marrying Beren, but he’d soon repented of that mistake when she disappeared for two weeks without a word to anyone. A cold current shivered down Elu’s spine. That had been a terrible winter.

But now, every day was another closer to her and Beren moving to Dead Man’s Isle. It was ridiculous: she had not needed him nearly half her life now, and yet Elu’s heart dropped when he thought of her so far away. Not around the corner, not where he could drop by on an evening stroll to say hello with a container of leftovers or a tin of Melian’s homemade lembas biscuits.

Because of all this, he had become a complete sucker and lost all ability to say no to her. And damn it if she didn’t know it, he thought with a rueful smile.

Elu Singh-Goel

OK.

3:26pm

Lúthien💮💗

Omg thanks so much papa!!

Beren will tell Morwen to bring him by

3:26pm

Elu Singh-Goel

Don’t to worry about it. I think I can send my intern to pick them up. Tell them to wait at The Dimbar.

3:27pm

Elu set the phone down, then picked up the receiver on his desk phone and dialed Beleg’s extension.

“Hey big guy, what’s up?”

Elu smiled. He really ought to impress a more professional attitude on his interns (it’s what they were there to learn after all), but there was something… rejuvenating about this one’s breezy familiarity with him — and besides, it was good for the ego to have some carefree college student call you “big guy” once in a while when you had a pile of letters on our desk addressing you as “Your Worship”.

“Beleg,” said Thingol. “Would you be able to run a little personal errand for me?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I need you to go pick up a kid and bring him to the office.”

*

Half-an-hour later Beleg rounded the corner at the end of the hall, running with a lanky, dark-haired boy clinging to his back.

“Here he is!” Beleg announced, and let the boy down. “Túrin, the Master of Fate! Isn’t that right?” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “We outsmarted fate six times on the way over, didn’t we little guy?”

“Red lights aren’t fate,” Túrin said, in the tone of a child who thinks he knows better. “They are for controlling traffic flow.”

“Beleg.” Elu did his best to conceal his amusement with a frown. “I hope you were not racing lights in a municipal vehicle again.”

“No sir,” said Beleg. “No racing. All very strategic.”

“Mm, I don’t think I want to know.” Elu rose from his hair and came around the front of the desk. “It’s nice to meet you, Túrin. Welcome to the office of the Mayor. I’m Elu.”

Túrin did not look impressed, and made no move to take Elu’s hand when offered. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Túrin.” Then he turned back to Beleg. “Can we go on your computer now like your promised?”

Elu lifted a brow, for Beleg’s benefit, as he addressed Túrin. “He promised you, did he? Funny, because Beleg does what I tell him to do, and I do not remember telling him to do that.”

Beleg laughed, not sounding nearly as nervous as he should have.

“Oh.” Túrin paused, visibly processing this new information. “Well can you tell him to play games with me?”

Elu had to laugh at the boy’s quick tactical adjustment. “I’m afraid Beleg doesn’t get to play games at work. But, while he was off picking you up, I thought of something else we could do.”

“What?” said Túrin and Beleg at once.

“Well,” Elu perched on the desk so he needn’t tower above them, “in the storage room there should be one of those fake trees and a box of decorations. We used to set it up in my office every year. I’d forgotten all about it, but since we’ve got you here, Túrin, I thought it would be a nice thing to do. What do you think?”

Túrin seemed to be deep in thought.

“Hey!” Beleg nudged him. “Sounds fun to me!”

“I don’t know,” Túrin said. “I barely know you. Tree decorating is for families.”

“Oh,” said Elu. “I suppose it’s something families often do together, yes. But they can be set up by coworkers, too, or even strangers, like us. I bet we won’t be strangers when we’re done.”

“We didn’t get a tree at my house this year,” Túrin disclosed. “My dad is away for Yule so my mom said we don’t need one.”

“I see,” Elu said, beginning to lose hope in this venture.

“All the more reason to set one up here!” Beleg offered.

“Yeah.” Túrin shrugged. “I guess.”

“Excellent!” said Elu. “Beleg, why don’t you take Túrin down the storage and have a look for it?”

*

They were gone a long time, and Elu was just beginning to wonder if he should go looking for them when they appeared toting two large boxes — and another of the interns.

“Hope you don’t mind if Mablung joins us!” Beleg said cheerily, setting the tree box upright in the corner of the room. Mablung placed the box of ornaments on Elu’s desk. “He said he was bored, I said he could help us.”

“Of course, of course. The more the merrier!” Elu said absently, distracted by fiddling with computer speakers in an effort to get the music to play. He groaned and threw up his hands. “Can one of you young people figure out why these blasted speakers have turned themselves off again?”

To his surprise, it was Túrin who answered the summons, running around behind the desk to investigate.

“It’s muted,” he said almost at once, and tapped a key on the keyboard. The bouncy beat of I’m the Happiest Christmas Tree spilled from the speakers.

The other three laughed, but Túrin crinkled his nose and hit skip on the song.

Soon, Beleg and Mablung had the tree set up and were arguing about the best placement for the string of lights. Once that was decided, they turned to debating how best to balance the bauble distribution.

Túrin seemed more interested in rooting through the box for the most unique ornaments. Elu watched him wistfully. He had not realised how much he missed being around children and their infectious wonderment at the world.

“I like this one,” Túrin said, pulling out a golden dragon. “My dad has one like it.”

“Oh, yes, very nice!” Elu said. “Why don’t you keep it?”

“Really?” said Túrin, his face brightening. He did not wait for confirmation before he shoved it in his pocket.

“Hey, what’s this now?” Beleg ambled over. “Mayor Man is giving away his ornament collection? Mablung, let’s see what’s in here!”

Beleg peered into the box, shoving aside some silver baubles and pulling out a long black icicle.

“Oh, sick,” he said, letting it dangle from a finger. “This is some goth sh— stuff.”

“Interesting,” said Elu, watching the strange ornament twirl. “I am not sure where that one came from.”

“Ohh, mystery ornament!” Beleg enthused. “Can I have it?”

“Really, you want that?” Mablung put in. “That’s weird, man. It looks like a weapon.”

“No way, it’s cool!” said Beleg.

“Well, if you want it,” said Elu, “I certainly don’t.”

“No, I want it!” Túrin shouted, and closed his fist around the icicle.

“Hey, kid, whoa, easy,” said Beleg. “You could just ask nice—!”

Beleg screamed. The ornament flew towards the ceiling, then arced back down and shattered on the floor. Túrin careened and toppled backwards, just missing Mablung lunging to break his fall.

Beleg gawked at his finger, which was bent backwards as a very unnatural angle.

“You dislocated my finger!” Beleg cried.

“Damn,” said Elu, and he was thinking neither of his injured employee nor of the crying child on the floor, but of the weeks of workplace accident reporting paperwork he’d just created for himself.

[taruchikas]

Here are my drawings for ChikaIta week 2023 !! i forgot to post them here earlier whoops

[kiliinstinct]

The Forbidden Woods

A Genshin Impact Au Pairing: Aether/Xiao Urban Fantasy and Supernatural Romance Find on A03: [Here] Special Thanks to @genavere: My beta. Unsure how I forgot to update this by two chapters, but expect chapter 5 to also drop soon because I posted 4 over a week ago on a03. Whoops. Chapter 3: / Chapter 5:

---

Chapter 4: He Who Lingers

Aether's first conscious thoughts were of a memory. Or something resembling  a memory, old and faded with time.

He had fought with Lumine over some small thing he  didn't recall. Nothing life or death except to a seven year old. They shouted and smacked, tackled each other into the dirt and wrestled through a pile of multi-colored leaves until Lumine called him something that came out as white noise.

It had hurt, whatever the name had been. Nasty and crude, but he couldn’t remember it.

Rather than attack his sister further, he sprang up from their tussle and ran. Fat tears pricking his eyes. He thought he recalled her shouting for him, but chose not to hear it. He rushed to the altar stone, ignored the makeshift chairs they had painstakingly put together and went further still.

He ran and ran, towards the forest line separated by a wooden fence he clambered over with tears obscuring his vision. When he landed on the other side, the world felt as if it had taken a plaintive shift that made Aether dizzy. 

Lumine’s shouting echoed mutely in the distance, and the skies above felt darker, casting everything to purple tones. He rubbed the tears from his eyes and hiccupped, still engulfed in emotion as he processed the world around him.

The woods were quiet; the sounds of his steps echoed as branches snapped beneath his feet. His thoughts of anger and hurt slowly bled away to nervous wonder as his fingers brushed along the leaves of a large fern. He inspected the moss covering the nearby flora, making careful note of the nearby tree covered in large thorns. 

One glance behind him showed the fence still there, paces away, and he nodded. While his heart threatened to beat out of his chest, determination filled him as he took another step, then one more. He shouldn't be here. He knew this, but where else could he go to be alone? Maybe Lumine would feel so bad she'd be in tears once he returned, begging his forgiveness. 

One more step passed those sharp trunks and he sucked in a watery breath, eyes still blurry from his earlier outburst. 

“You shouldn't be here,” A voice, not unlike his own, whispered in his ear and he jumped, a surprised yelp echoed through the quiet wilderness. 

When he tried to run, a hand smaller than his grabbed his wrist, holding it tight. He whirled around to face this stranger with an enraged, terrified shout-

“It's not safe,” the voice urged. 

-Only to meet the gaze of a boy his age, bearing down on him with the brightest, piercing gold eyes he’d ever seen. 

Aether's eyes shot open, the echoes of the dream-like memory fading as fast as they had hit. Bits and pieces of it faded away until all he could remember was the small fight with Lumine, running away and- he let out a pained sigh, feeling a headache behind his eyes. How long had it been since he'd thought about those old fights? Strange how he’d forgotten about them. Groaning, he rolled to the side in his small nest of blankets, gripping his head. 

He felt hungover. And though he hadn’t drank a single alcoholic beverage the night before, it was on the fast track to being the worst he’d ever suffered before. With mouth feeling dry and full of cotton, Aether whined as he shook the last vestiges of the dream off his shoulders, refusing to think on it further. 

Mechanically stretching his body until the sheets exposed his heated skin to the cool air, Aether shuddered and considered balling himself up to sleep a little longer. But another shiver ran down his spine at the thought, fearing more nameless memories coming to haunt him. Instead he reached for his phone to check what little notifications he could see, flinched at the brightness and quickly fought with the phone to lower its settings. After a few failed attempts, he cursed the demon bird for the umpteenth time and attempted to move on to Lumine’s messages. 

Instead, the image gallery from the night before swam into focus, blaring that photo back at him in full brightness. Surprised, the phone slipped from tired fingers and smacked against his face.

“Ow! Son of a-”

Egregious curses filled the house, signaling the official start of his day. 

After what felt like hours, he finally found him with a cup of coffee in hand, bags under his eyes, and a fierce stare at the phone which wounded him.  More specifically, the image that had haunted him since the day before. As much as he wanted to call Lumine, the urge remained paralyzed in the back of his mind, quietly festering as his headache persisted.

Yellow eyes glared at him: narrowed, angry, judging. He sipped his coffee and glared back, as if that alone would solve the mysteries popping up in every corner of his life recently. When nothing obviously happened, he sighed and covered the offended eyes with his finger.

It still didn't make him feel any better hiding them, but it allowed him to try and piece together the rest of the image without being distracted by the intense gaze behind the broken glass.

Squinting, he tried to differentiate between dead pixels and the image. A second later, his cheeks turned red as he realized the man was very naked, legs bent in the perfect position to censor the bits that would have sent Aether into an embarrassed coughing fit. It was odd how long it took him to realize it, as if it took every ounce of focus to translate what his retinas were viewing. 

He could have sworn there were clothes yesterday, but the sight of firm muscles and toned abs said otherwise, leaving Aether to quietly drool from the pixelated visual. The rest of the details were too grainy and glitched, making the man’s skin look off-colored in many places. And was that a tattoo on his shoulder? Not only there but along the hip bones and - He cleared his throat and forced his eyes back up the screen.

Lifting the phone to his face, nose practically pressed against the screen, he tried to visualize what he was missing. The hair was wild, unkempt and uneven, but the teal streaks practically glowed in the sunlight and the eyes-

Crap, when did he stop covering the face? The gaze was back and suddenly he felt exposed, dropping the phone back to the table in discomfort. What was wrong with him?

“It's just a photo,” he muttered in a vain attempt to console himself. “Nothing bad ever happened just looking at a photo. Even if there's a guy looking hotter than-” 

He paused, nose scrunching at his train of thought before quickly squashing it. “Anyway, what I should be focusing on is the fact that there was a guy here and I completely missed it because of a damn bird!”

Yes, that's how he decided to explain it. Obviously, someone was trespassing and he just miraculously hadn't noticed because of a cute bird that he couldn't even see in the image. It made no sense, but the alternative made even less. 

Because, if he didn't tell himself there was a strange hobo living in his backyard, that meant the bird wasn't a bird, and that was insane.

The throbbing in his temple reigned him back in as he slowly sipped his coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. Somehow, he'd forgotten to bring cream and sugar and was suffering the consequences. That, or Paimon had decided to play a prank on him.

Rubbing his eyes, Aether muttered quiet curses beneath his breath, wondering just what he'd done to feel this horrendous. He wasn't getting sick, was he? Vowing to dig through his bags for excedrin later, he turned his attention back to the phone, gnawing on his lip.

He was on the verge of a realization, that he knew. Even from a distance, the eyes were still intense, but the face shape, the wild, silky-looking hair and downturned lips, all of it was familiar. Like an old friend he hadn't seen in years, or an old dream he'd long forgotten. The feeling he knew this person kept his attention drawn to the rectangular surface far longer than he wanted to admit.

“...Who...are you?” The question fell into the air. 

He thought he heard a voice from his dreams calling back to him in answer. It echoed into his mind like a faded, distant memory.

‘It’s not safe. You have to leave.’

Where had he heard that before? 

A feeling of nausea flooded through him like a wave and he covered his mouth. Bile and stomach acid rose into the back of his mouth as he knocked the chair over in his haste to rush to the bathroom, practically choking on his own spit.  

He didn’t notice the gold eyes peering through the hall window, or the rustling of feathers as he ran past. 

Retching and coughing up what little contents he had in his stomach, Aether quivered over the toilet bowl. Thankful he made it in time, shifting to his knees, he rested his head against the outer porcelain. A conscious part of him was disgusted by the action, but his quaking, overheated muscles refused to move an inch. Another wave shot through his body and his eyes watered from the strain. 

He'd have to get more than headache medicine, he realized. When his stomach finally settled, enough time had passed for the sun to shine directly into the nearest window, heating his back as he shivered. 

Slowly, Aether found the strength to open his eyes again and was stunned to realize the migraine had ebbed away. Even the dizziness that had assaulted his senses since he woke was gone. 

Mumbling weakly, he quietly wished he'd let Lumine and Paimon come with him. Being alone in a large, empty house full of dead memories was eating away at him, and the lack of familiar support left him ungrounded. He missed their laughter, his twin's affectionate teasing and stubborn nature as she stayed by his side. Even Paimon's black hole of a stomach as she begged for a third breakfast.

He missed all of it, and the intensity of those feelings, coupled with his present confusion and sickness, broke through his calm exterior, leaving him sobbing on the floor. “...Why did I even come here?” 

Why didn't he let Lumine sign those papers the day they were asked to sell? Why was he adamant in seeing this forsaken place one last time? What could have been so important? Lumine and Paimon were his family, his little sister had never set foot in this place, being born long after they had left. 

Laying there, listless and exhausted, Aether considered returning early, the broken phone and mysterious image be damned. He could ask Draff to collect his new phone and ship it to him. He could arrange a flight and be back with his siblings in a matter of days. 

With those thoughts forming a quick plan in his mind, Aether finally managed to stand, legs wobbly as he balanced by the sink and quickly began to wash his face and teeth. He flushed the toilet–even gave it a quick scrub for good measure, and sighed, staring into the bathroom mirror with an empty gaze.

The nausea was gone, but the dull tremors of his migraine threatened to return. The person looking back at him barely recognizable and pathetic looking. 

Why was he so sick? No one he had met yesterday seemed ill, and nothing he ate seemed bad. “...I'll just ask Draff to drop me off some flu medicine.”

Now that he was thinking clearer, getting a plane ticket while sick was probably not the greatest plan. In fact, he could imagine the lecture Lumine would give him just for attempting it. 

No, as much as he missed his family, it was better to wait it out and leave when he wasn't a possible contagion to those around him. Deciding to fill his stomach with toast in hopes it would stay down, he left the bathroom and steeled himself to suffer through the rest of the day.

Entering the kitchen with weak stumbles, he stopped when he noticed something on the counter that hadn’t been there before.  Standing proud and alone was a blue pill bottle labeled for flu and day time colds.

When did-? 

He looked around for signs of anyone having gone through the house. The bolt was still on the door and the windows were sealed. Once he was satisfied no one else was in the house, Aether approached the counter and examined the bottle.

“...did I just forget I had this?” No, surely that wasn't right, but what other explanation was there? 

Instinct screamed to trust himself. Aether wasn’t crazy. Not for this. And who in their right mind would take suspicious medications they didn’t remember purchasing themselves? Under normal circumstances, he would have thrown the bottle out, but his mind circled back to the photo on his phone and realized he couldn’t call any of this normal. The bird. Draff’s ability to be oblivious to the strange things around them. The supposedly old Zhongli and Venti–the latter whom he’d yet to meet, and the weird sensations he’d had since approaching their home. 

While he would have chalked all this up to a tv show he’d binge watch back with Lumine and Paimon. The reality, however, was much harder to process and Aether struggled to accept the facts: this wasn’t his imagination. No matter the kind of media he’d once consumed, this was real. He wasn’t imagining any of it. That realization would have probably concerned most people, but Aether realized he hadn’t felt unsafe once. Whatever was out in the woods, he was safe, welcome even. A feeling he quietly admitted he hadn’t felt in a long time. Which is the exact thought that led to him popping two of the pills into his mouth and swallowing without another thought.

As he cleared his throat and returned to his coffee, he thought he heard a familiar warble of a bird, but when he turned to the sound, nothing was there. He wiped his mouth and peered out the window a little longer, eyes narrowed in thought. 

Maybe he really was crazy. 

Or…

Setting the thought aside, he returned to his sleep space with coffee in one hand and the phone in the other. The screen was dark, but he knew what would be looking straight at him the moment it lit up once more. That could also wait until later. Instead, he nestled himself in his blankets and waited for the pills to kick in…or worse. 

It would turn out, Aether was lucky. The worst case scenario failed to happen. In fact, the pill’s he’d taken worked better than he thought. When he next woke after a short rest, the nausea was nonexistent and the headache that once pounded behind his eyes was a distant memory. He stretched under his blankets and smiled, surprised his muscles weren’t sore from his earlier vomiting. 

It was prudent to not expect to be a hundred percent so soon, but Aether felt closer to normal than he had in days.

The busted phone in his hand shined with a blue light around the edges, signifying a notification and he was more than happy to examine it. He smiled as a video message from Paimon and Lumine popped up on the cracked screen. “Let’s see how well you see us with a busted phone, Aether!” Paimon shouted, voice so shrill it pierced his ears even through the machine, “You really are hopeless without us, huh?”

“You haven’t answered your phone or called us back,” Lumine followed behind Paimon, her golden hair a stark difference from their younger sister's platinum, but both of their eyes reflected the same amber as his own, despite the worry. 

“If it’s not too jacked up,” she said tersely, “can you call us back?”

“Yeah! We’re worried about you!”

How the sound of their voices put a song in his heart and lifted his spirits in an instant. It was almost enough to completely forget about the image still opened in the gallery. While the image played out across the screen, slightly chopped and glitched in parts, he smiled and studied their faces. He missed them dearly, but this seemed just enough to chase the looming loneliness from his mood. 

Just when he was about to return the missed call, he heard the same warble of a bird from earlier. It called his attention, pulling him to glance out his window towards the branches of the large oak in the front yard. He almost expected nothing to be there like before, but was surprised to find the demon bird itself peering back at him from the thinnest limb. It was as if the fowl was trying to press itself directly against the window as its head tilted to the side. Another chirp and Aether lifted up his phone in response and waved it with a raised brow. “I got it back, you lil’ gremlin,” he boasted, but was surprised when the bird merely hopped to the outer ledge and pecked the glass in a gentle rat-a-tat-tat, and cocked its head yet again. Aether got the strange impression it was waiting on something. Trying to discern the gaze of a bird, Aether looked around and spied the pill bottle he’d brought with him. It couldn’t be…could it? Logic would suggest that an animal wouldn’t understand the point in a bottle of medication, but after the last few days he’d had, he was starting to run with whatever wild conclusion popped into his mind. He set the phone down, replacing it with the bottle and held it up, stunned to see the bird’s head moving about as it followed the movement, eyes zeroed in on the object. He shook it to the left, then the right, marveling as his little terror kept it in its sights at all times. When he tossed it into the air, attempting to see if the bird would also jump, it squawked indignantly and puffed out its feathers, eliciting a sharp laugh from Aether. 

Too cute, he thought, feeling far less angry at the bird than he was the day before. How could he stay mad at something so adorable? “All right, I’ll stop making you dance. Are you checking in on me?”

How silly, he thought, of course it wasn’t. It’s a bird, Aether, he told himself, yet again, ignoring the quiet reminder towards the image suggesting otherwise. But if his instincts were correct, no matter how insane they might be, then he couldn’t resist testing the theory. “I’m feeling much better now…Thanks? I don’t know how it could have been you, but if it was, I appreciate the help.”

It was just an experiment. That’s all it was. That’s what Aether told himself. One to prove his logic correct once and for all. There was nothing truly weird happening. He didn’t receive medication from a bird and it certainly hadn’t defied physics to deliver it to him. 

The man in his phone was a hacker of some sorts and not the actual bird, and whatever happened at Zhongli’s was just social jitters. This bird didn’t know what he was saying, it probably didn’t even know he was talking to it to begin with. Now that he’d said his piece, the bird would continue not reacting, just as a real bird would and he’d chalk it up to delusions caused by stress. Yes. That was it. Mission a complete suc-

The bird bobbed its head and flapped its wings, brandishing the beautiful golden flight feathers that gleamed in the light. It twirled in its spot, like an actual dance and nodded its head before it took flight, leaving behind a shaking branch as the only sign it had been there in the first place. 

-failure. Mission failure. Aether stared, nonplussed at the window, jaw wide open as his mouth went dry. It looked as if the bird had celebrated the news. That’s exactly what that was, right? He wasn’t crazy? No. He was crazy. Had to be. “...what was in those pills?”

Fresh air, Aether decided, after staring at the window for a ridiculous amount of time, to pay attention to a bird that was no longer there. When he gathered his wits, he realized he must have been in the dusty old place for too long. It was messing with his brain. That had to explain it.

Making a mental note to google what connections there could be to dust and hallucinations later, he sprang from his makeshift bed and rushed himself out the back door. 

His intention was clear. A fresh clear breeze would be just what he needed to battle the old dust of the house and give him a better outlook on the situation. When he stepped out, a gentle wind rustled through his hair, brushing along his face in a gentle caress and the immediate change in temperature eased the tension in his shoulders. The old wood of the porch groaned at every step, but he ignored it. He had more pressing matters to attend to. 

Like the fact he had a perfect view of the stone altar along the border of his land, standing proud and clean and was not helping his train of thought.

Once upon a time, Aether believed in the concept of the unknown: Ghosts, Fairies, Magic and Demons. These weren't just stories to him or Lumine. In this backyard, all stories felt as if they could come alive at any moment. It made their home a wondrous place. And while that feeling of wonder had faded as they grew older, the two of them worked hard to keep that magical feeling alive in their little sister.

These memories, thoughts, and feelings, they warred with each other in his mind. Frivolous, childhood fantasies that were nothing more than a young boy's imagination–he thought he believed that, but now Aether wasn't so sure. 

He wondered if his sense of nostalgia was causing him to see the world differently, but the more he dismissed his experiences as a flight of fancy, the more it churned in his stomach like a sickness. Maybe there was still a part of him that wanted the magic of childhood to be more than silly memories.

There was no sight of the bird. A fact that filled Aether with quiet disappointment. He had hoped its nest was nearby, giving him more opportunities to observe it. Inhaling deeply, he sat on the steps of the decaying wooden porch and frowned. 

The fogginess that plagued his mind that morning was long gone, but he was no closer to escaping his muddied thoughts than he was before. Rather than continue to circle through each moment and consideration, he chose instead to lean against the rails, gazing between the runs as he enjoyed the evening air.

The sun was just starting its downward descent, a testament to the passage of time while Aether was lost in the clouds of his own mind. He shut his eyes, opened them again, and clenched them shut once more, as if expecting something to change with each blink. 

Nothing did. 

The backyard remained the same with the grass almost on the verge of being too high, the debris he cleared off still littered by the large oak, and the stone altar–a staunch difference from the modern world. 

He remembered asking why it was there once, but his Father had merely shrugged and stated it had been there long before they were and would still be there after they left. Now older, it was clearly a fancy way to say, 'I don't know,' but Aether had enjoyed the reasoning regardless.

It sounded...mystical back then. And even now, with the stories and myths echoing in his skull, it still felt beyond the world he knew beyond Springvale. 

Keeping his eyes closed for longer, he immersed himself in his senses. The wind was still gentle, a cool brush along the back of his neck in the late spring air while the scent of the nearby woods and wildflowers eased his nerves. Taking a deep breath, Aether basked and allowed himself to imagine the world as he did when younger.

While he knew the world would remain as it was, once he opened his eyes again, he enjoyed pretending it wouldn't. That there was truth in the old tales and that the stone altar was more than just an ancient relic of a culture long lost. It could be a place where birds, plants, and even the elements could appear more than they were. Where they could walk next to Aether just as any other person could.

It was a nice thought that was soon interrupted by the familiar, distant sound of flapping. 

Another bird? Aether wouldn't be surprised if a whole flock made their nests somewhere nearby, but the lone flapping was gone as fast as he heard it, followed by the crunching of undergrowth and twigs in the distance.

His eyes shot open, startled by the sound as if it occurred beside him, but his gaze trailed further off towards the treeline. The world remained the same, but his earlier consideration towards an intruder slammed back into him like a bag of bricks. Someone was out there. In the woods. They were close. He heard it loud and clear, Aether was certain. 

Not a bird. Not an animal. Human footsteps. 

Aether jumped to his feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness it caused as he held fast to the railing and leaned forward, eyes narrowed in earnest. 

“Who's out there?” he called fiercely, already planning his escape back into the house. And if that didn’t work? What other places would he hide? The options weighed heavily in his mind.

He had no weapons. If a hunter was poaching nearby, Aether was defenseless. He didn’t see the familiar orange vest of a hunter exploring through the thickets, nor did he see the silhouette of a gun or compound bow. In the past, these were the staple of all legal hunters in the area and the locals were good at following the hunting laws to the letter. Was it the same still? Aether squinted his eyes, attempting to see further into the wood.

Another step, quieter, and Aether realized everything was just as quiet. No birds sounded and the wind had stopped just as suddenly. As if the world had paused in an instant all around him and left him spying the tree line for anything.

Someone was there.

And finally, he saw them; Their yellow eyes pierced him through the distance. Just like the photo on his phone, the man that should have been a bird, stepped behind a collection of trees with only the hint of teal and black hair dispersing into the shadows. Aether felt his heart tighten as the air left his lungs.

He'd seen that before. Not in a photo or in the identical coloring of a bird dancing in the tree limbs, but from a dream that felt like a memory. He exhaled sharply, recalling the small boy that had once urged him to never enter the woods, and who often joined him and Lumine in their childhood games.

An imaginary friend, his Mom had called it, having never seen the boy for herself. Eventually, Aether had convinced himself the same, but the taller, older proof had slipped into the shadows of the darkwood as if he'd belonged there. 

Aether's mouth ran dry, his fingers shook. A bit of fear bled into excitement as he launched himself off the railing and dashed off towards the fence. His bare feet smarted when he tripped over a root and stepped on a twig, but he hastily moved onward, wincing briefly as his earlier dizziness sprang upon him like a tsunami. 

“Wait, wait-!” he called, desperately , eyes blurring once he'd slammed himself against the fencepost nearest the treeline. He glanced through every gap in the trees, desperately wanting to see what he was so sure he knew now. 

It couldn't be real, and yet it was. That was the man in the photo–who was also a bird, who swam in his memories as a quiet, gentle reminder from an old friend, to never step into the forest.

Recklessly, he climbed over the fence and grunted when another twig snapped beneath his feet. Logic no longer bound Aether in place as he looked for the safest path into the trees. He didn't know just how far he planned to go, only that the intense need to see the truth up close spurred him onward.

Three steps forward, however, and the world flipped on its head. Aether toppled to the earth with grass and leaves filling his mouth and tickling his nostrils. Coughing, he pushed himself up, body shaking as a wave of illness struck him just as hard that morning, as if it had never left.

“...s-shit!” He cursed, weakly looking onward as the world grew hazy. A strange fog swam into his vision, tinting the world around him as he struggled to sit up. 

Stupid. How could he have been so stupid!

'You can't come here,' the voice, Aether now recognized as an old, forgotten friend, whispered in his ears. 'Never again. Stay safe, alive and happy, far away from here- please.'

He thought he saw someone approach as his head hit the dirt, darkness covering his vision yet again. 

In this new dream, he felt strong arms lift him securely and carry him out of the woods, voice muttering words he could not understand quietly in his ear.

When Aether woke up, he was back in his room, body sore from head to toe, and stomach feeling inside out. A cool rag sat atop his head and a fresh glass of water sat on the nightstand beside him.

Right beside it, the mysterious medicine, sitting atop a long, golden feather.

[immortalbumblebee]

Chapter 16: Iron Shackles

Whoops! I forgot to post for a few months again...super long chapter this time, tho! Masterlist

As bright neon cast through your window and into your closed eyes, you couldn’t help but grumble. A truly rude awakening, only worsened as the early-winter cold seeped through your blankets and into your bones, your still-sleeping mind mourning the peaceful slumber you'd been experiencing just moments ago. But there was still hope; a nearby heat source, just to your side. You turned and curled into the warm body next to you, nuzzling your nose into the crook of the person’s neck. In response, a low growl is emitted from the body. “You’re cold…”

“And you’re nice and warm…” You ignored his complaints, tightening your arm around Vander as you cuddled in closer under your patchwork quilt. Your naked bodies seemed to meld together, you sapping his excess warmth in an attempt to fend off the creeping chill. However, as your mind continued to slowly wake up, you remembered that if the neon lights had found their way into your window, that meant it was nearing dusk, and dusk meant that Benzo and Silco would be home soon from work.

Just a couple of moments longer…

Vander’s breathing regulated once more, a low snore coming from his partially open lips, and you giggled a little to yourself at the sound. Feeling his chest rise and fall under you, your fingers began to run up and down his pectorals, combing through his chest hair as you blindly traced the area where you knew one of his tattoos (a hound skull) lay. Even though he needed a shower from your earlier activities, his natural pleasant scent of musk and smoke made you content. A reminder of him. As you placed a small kiss on his jawline, his arm instinctively tightened its hold around you. Damn this man.

After another selfish moment of indulging yourself with cuddles, you began to rouse your body. Your muscles ached as they were hit with the wave of cold, and your joints complained as you moved to stand. Stretching, you tried your best to ease the stiffness and aching feelings, and you thankfully got a couple of ‘pops’ from your joints, but much of the soreness remained. The thrills of adulthood, you supposed.

“Nice bum.” You could hear Vander’s smile even before looking back at him. He patted the spot next to him, the old grey sheets just as much patchwork as the quilt atop it. “You should bring it back here.”

Picking up what you knew to be his shirt, you handed it to him. “We need to get up. You need a shower and I need to start on dinner before Benzo and Silco get home.” You emphasize the guy’s names, hopefully reminding him why there was a certain need for urgency. But he just rolls onto his back, propping his arms under his head.

“You could always join me in the shower..? Save on water and all that, plus you get all this glorious body heat you love so much?” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes. To add insult to injury, you noticed the way he tensed his muscles, showing off the pure muscle that lay under that calloused, tanned skin. Emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders, the bulk of his biceps, his pectorals, his abs. The trick worked for a moment, feeling a familiar heat rise into your ears as your eyes remained trapped on his torso, tracing over every line and scar with detail. But as he began to flex his pecs, bouncing them one at a time, you shook your head in exasperation and began rifling through your drawers trying to find a clean pair of underwear and a semi-clean sports bra. Vander laughed loudly, filling the room with the warmness of his laughter.

“I can’t promise anything fancy for dinner tonight, but I figure we’ll get more food afterwards when we get post-fight drinks anyways.” You explain as you search, ignoring your lover’s immaturity. “Benzo’s got the bill tonight, it’s his turn.”

“Oi. Pretty, naked lady.”

Looking over your shoulder, you find Vander looking back at you. He still hasn’t put on his shirt, but he has crawled over to the other side of the bed so he’s now sitting closer to you, feet planted on your cluttered floor. He’s got an eyebrow raised, and your motions still as you fully turn to face him. His eyes don’t leave yours. “I love you.”

Damn this man, indeed. Damn him and the butterflies he sets free in your stomach.

Taking the single step it takes to get from your dresser to your bed, you sidle back up into Vander’s heat. He welcomes you happily, hands enveloping your waist and lightly pulling you into him. You cup either side of his jaw. This time his eyes do leave yours, taking just a fraction of a second to scan down your body. But they’re back up, holding your gaze before you can say anything. You lean down ever so slightly to take his lips into yours, and you feel his hands tighten around you. It’s a soft kiss, tender; just a simple close-mouthed kiss, but you try ever so hard to press all your feelings into it.

As you pull away, you press one more little peck to his lips. “I love you too.”

He seems content with this, grey eyes sparkling against the neon from outside. “I think some of your clothes are in one of the baskets in the hall.” Kissing him quickly one more time, you thank him before rushing out your door to rifle through the several baskets of forgotten and unfolded, but clean laundry. Amid your digging around, you come across two solid boxing gloves; black, patched in a few places but more evident was the distinct painting of a brown hound on each mitt.

“Oi, Van.” You peek back into your room to see Vander finally standing, stretching. You raise your hands, showing him the mitts and his face immediately breaks out into a toothy grin.

“There they are!!!” He exclaims, speed-walking over and taking the mitts into his own hands. He feels over the worn leather like he’s worshipping them, thumb tracing over the hound printing, matching his tattoo, as if he’s greeting an old friend. Those gloves had been a gift from Mikael on his eighteenth birthday when Vander’s father finally came around and approved of the fights as a way of making more money outside of the mines. “I’ve been looking for these for weeks! Thought someone had pinched them at the ring.”

“They could use some care.” You point to a new rip in one of the seams, your eyes carefully taking note of the gloves. You’d seen them a thousand times over the years, even watched him do repairs on them in the past. But for some reason, there and now, seeing them…your mind began to turn with ideas. “You know…you wouldn’t need to sew them nearly as much if they were metal. Could do some serious damage too, instead of padding your punches. Maybe some cast iron or titanium, y’know, something solid. Something to use in a real fight."

Vander’s eyes only look up for a moment, still intensely focused on the gloves in his hands as he begins to slide them on, stretching his fingers to see that they still fit as perfectly as ever. They do. “Metal’d hurt my hands more, wouldn’t it?”

Your mind is still in engineering mode before you finally turn your attention back to the basket of clothes.

You’ve barely been able to put on some clothes and start throwing together some food when the guys shamble into your shared home, feet heavy against the creaking hardwood floors but chatting casually amongst each other.

“We’re home!” Benzo calls, louder than he needs to.

“How was work?” You ask, barely looking up from the canned peas you were trying to open. They looked exhausted, both with dark circles weighing down their faces. Both had been working the mines today, so were already in fairly tattered clothes, but also displayed the new signs of a long day’s worth of hard work. A thick layer of grime, sweat, and coal dust coated their entire bodies.

Silco grumbled as he kicked off his boots, the thick rubber soles falling to the floor with a loud ‘thunk’. “Fucking awful, as per usual down in that shithole.” He continues on one of his normal tirades about the mines. The dirtbag supervisors, the shitty conditions, the kids sent there who are forced to work just as the three of them had. Benzo only hummed in agreement as he took off his own work shirt and sat at the dinner table, exhaustion evident in his face. But when a rasping cough left Benzo's chest, the sick sound of years' worth of smoke and chemicals exiting his lungs, there was a long pause. Cautious hesitation as the tell-tale miner's cough lingered like a bad omen in the apartment. But after a moment, the three friends resumed casually, trying to ignore the heavy feelings that seemed to consume all their hearts.

“When’s the next mine shift you’ve got, anyways Silco?” You ask, voice cracking ever so slightly. Benzo notices, and sends you a look but you can’t tell if it’s out of guilt, shame or apology.

“Day after tomorrow.” He shrugs, mind obviously only half-interested in the conversation as he shies away from the room. His eyes refuse to meet Benzo, who now only stares down at the wood grain of the table. “I’ve got a messenger shift in the morning, then I’ve got that job at the docks again.”

“Right…” You nod, just as absent-mindedly.

Just as you’re finishing up your concoction of stew, putting together anything in the pantry that would work, Vander stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped securely around his waist. Water droplets fall from his soft brown curls, rolling over his cheekbones before falling onto his broad, exposed chest.

“You two look like shit.” Vander’s booming voice laughed. “As per usual.”

“Yeah, laugh it up, big guy.” Silco rolled his eyes, reaching into their shared room to grab his own towel. “See how you look after your fight tonight.”

Benzo drudgingly reaches into his pocket, pulling out his notebook and flipping open to the most recent page. “Speaking of, I checked in today, the odds tonight are in Vander’s favour for his fight, but for Min's…”

“She’s fighting Sevika, who’s two weight classes above her. Not to mention she, like, never wins against her.” Silco noted. “So yeah, I can believe that the bets against her are, to say, not great.”

You feel a small wave of anxiety hit you. “Thanks for the vote of confidence…”

“That’s the point of the underdog, ain’t it?” Vander asks, crossing the apartment to slide in next to you just as you begin spooning bowls. He grabs a bowl from your hands, fingers lingering for just a millisecond longer than needed as they meet. “Coming out on top, despite the odds, and racking in that good money.”

The feeling that swelled up in your chest was nothing short of exhilarating. All but buzzing, and you couldn’t even try to hide the grin that began to break out onto your lips, even with Silco and Benzo around. Memories of your past, long nights of fights where Vander would reprimand you for taking risks and fighting above your class, all feeling just a little farther away now. Now fueled by new-found confidence, your shoulders squared as you quickly filled three other bowls. “It’s still important to side with caution, though.” You nod. “Fight smart, play to my strengths.”

“Atta girl.” He applauds, winking at you before walking away. In your excitement, you don’t notice the cold, bitter look in Silco’s eyes before he ducks into the bathroom but you do hear him shut the door harder than needed, the rusted hinge popping slightly at the force. His reaction catches Vander’s attention more than yours though, and his eyes still on the door for a moment. You set a bowl in front of Benzo, who had been all but ignorant of the conversation, looking over his notebook still.

“I’ve got word on a job top-side in two nights time, could be a decent payout.” He explained, rubbing his face tiredly. You take his book out of his hands, pocketing it as you hand him a spoon instead.

“Benz, you’re exhausted.” You explain. “Quit working for two seconds and eat dinner before we have to drag your ugly mug to see the doc, aye?” For a moment, he looks like he’s about to fight you on this, but he eventually sighs and nods, grabbing the spoon.

***

The chime of the bell is a shrill sound, screeching over the cheers from the audience. They all sounded faded to you as you raised your fists again, ignoring the pulsing pain emanating from your right ass cheek. The dreaded score floating around stubbornly in your mind.

Sevika: 1

Minerva: 0

Your eyes hardened on the woman in front of you, her smirk showing off her crooked teeth. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was tied in a loose ponytail with strands falling out to her face.

“It's no fun fighting you without your magic, Minerva!” She called out. “Like fighting half a woman.”

You huffed out an empty laugh, hopping up on the balls of your feet. “What can I say, you could use the handicap advantage.”

Her smirk deepens, and she steadies for a moment. Tell-tale sign. She pauses, crouches, then explodes; lunging herself at you with her left arm curling upwards in a scythe-like motion. You side-step her body, using the height difference to your advantage as you duck under her arm only to bounce back up on the other side. She stops short, heavier momentum making her slower as she whirls around back at you. Same move, a swing of her arm, you sidestep and duck. But she’s not dumb, she knows you’re evasive manouvers and her hand opens over you. Before you have time to react, she’s grabbed your face and is throwing you back into the ropes.

Crap.

You bounce off the rubber barriers, trying to steady yourself you turn on your heel. But the loss of balance throws off your normally very fluid motions. You're distracted. She sees this, it’s what she banks on, and she’s already lunging. This time, her punch lands, and next thing you know your already-crooked nose flashes with pain as it directly connects with her padded fists.

Ouch

You don’t quite lose balance but are just barely able to duck under her. She pulls back again, but you're able to slide under her and dodge to the other side of the ring. You can already feel the damage to your cartilage, the smarting only barely dulled by your adrenaline as the familiar coppery scent of blood fills your nose. You’re definitely going to have a black eye in the morning. Sevika uses the moment to right herself too, straightening her shoulders as she faces you again. You stare at her dead-on.

Think Minerva. What is her body language saying?

She swarms you again, using her size to trap you into the corner. But your fist goes up before she meets you, swinging up and connecting square with her jaw. It’s not a dead-on hit, but it’s enough to throw off her heavy-fighter attack and provides just enough time to swing out of her way, behind her so you land an elbow to her left kidney. She stumbles forward, and you speed back towards her as her back faces you. Grappling her shoulder, you manage to land a couple more hits before she steadies herself enough to shove you off. She throws you like you weigh next to nothing, but she’s been stunned so you manage to catch yourself and fall only a couple of feet away. You land, semi-steadily, on your knee as your hand slides back to catch your fall. A drop of blood falls from your nose and onto the ring below, the surface already covered in several layers of dried crimson.

One of Sevika’s knees gives out, probably from the jab to her kidney, and she needs to steady herself before she can do anything else. But once she’s facing you again, you’re pushing off on the ball of your foot and slamming your knee into the front of her face. There's a definite 'crack' from her nose, and you feel something shift under your knee just as she crumples down to the floor.

The ref is running in to separate the two of you, but you’re already backing off, letting him count. 1…2…3…She’s still down.

His whistle blows. The round is over.

Your point.

You’re howling in victory, fist up in the air as the audience reacts. Mostly in loud groans, unhappy patrons who bet against you. Their loss, you’re making fucking bank tonight.

Set aside from the groans are the cries of excitement, and you make out your boys’ faces in the back. Benzo and Vander are howling in cheers, as is Niya who’s got one of Benzo’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. Even Silco’s giving you a round of applause. Next to him, you spot Skye and Narco, with little Violet in her father’s arms. She's got a pair of fluffy earmuffs over her ears, poking out from the mop of bright pink hair. When you meet eyes with the young girl, she cheers louder, arms up in the air and the biggest, cutest smile on her face.

Oh yeah, you think, this fight is yours.

After a few minutes of rest time, the ref is calling for the next round and you immediately turn to face Sevika again. She’s already standing, tightening the wrist of her gloves with her teeth. She doesn’t look mad, or even disappointed. In fact, she’s smiling.

“Lucky shot, islander.” She barks to you. It’s tough talk, but you see the adrenaline in her eyes. You two have been sparring for years, two of the most well-known female fighters in the Underground's league despite being of completely different weight classes and specializations. She was just as loyal to the revolution as you were, had been to just as many rallies, and had even once started a small strike in the mines a couple of years ago; you were friends. She knew this was a victory for you, and she was proud of you. “Let’s see you try that again without dodging like a pussy this time, yeah?”

You wipe at your nose, smearing the partially dried blood onto your hand wrappings. “Depends, you going to stop fighting like a rhino and actually switch it up on me?”

She chuckles, but only for a moment. She lunges faster this time, which surprises you. But you’re too hyped up on adrenaline and courage from your win, you stay your ground and ball your fists. You try for another uppercut. Wrong choice. She latches onto your arm, grabbing ahold of it from under her and immediately throwing you to the ground.

Okay, not your smartest moment.

You try and scramble up, try and get the floor back under your feet, but she’s on you before you can. Straddling your chest, fists already coming down. She cracks your face, connecting to your cheekbone. Another, the other side, this time your jaw. Your mind is already getting a little dizzy, but you manage to buck your hips up, knocking her off balance just enough to squeeze your knees out from under her and tucking them into your chest. Balls of your feet to her chest, kick, push. It takes a couple tries, but she’s eventually knocked off you and you spring back, a little wobbly, onto your feet. Thankfully, it takes her longer to stand than it takes you, and you're able to deliver your kneecap swiftly to her nose. She dodges, making you hit her temple instead. Less effective, but still disorients her a little. But it also knocks you off balance, your mind still reeling from her last attack, and you have to stumble before you can right yourself properly. She stands back up.

“Very sloppy, ‘nerva!” She calls, still smirking but this time not out of kindness. “Here I thought you were the smart one.”

You brush off the insult, it’s mostly for show anyway, and plant your feet more firmly in place. Let’s try this again, shall we?

She’s too close to properly lunge at you, but her fist still comes down in that arching strike. You swing your arm out, momentum stopping her attack if just barely. She’s taller than you, but you’re still able to hook your arm around hers, pinning it to your side as you punch back up, this time your uppercut actually landing. She steps back, but your firm footing keeps you both right there. You hit her again, this time a hook to her eye, then another. Landing hits as fast as you can before elbowing her in the jaw and letting go of her arm. She stumbles back, suddenly falling victim to her own gravity and the force of your hit. She’s holding her jaw, which will likely bruise quite well. You look forward to poking that bruise later tonight at the bar.

“Better for you, Sev?” You chime over the screaming crowd. Your head is still ringing, and that tangy copper aroma is thick in your nose and mouth. But you’re still standing. You go to lunge at her this time, maybe even jump at her if you can get the leverage. But something’s wrong. Something changes in the air.

A familiar vibration, your magic picking up on a metallic thrum. Thick, deep, like a low bass note. It doesn’t belong here, it’s not like any of the metal vibrations you feel around the Underground. But you know that you’ve worked on it in the past, you know its inner workings. You’ve felt it move under your touch.

On the factory floor.

When you fight enforcers.

Their muskets.

It clicks in your mind. Exactly what Morichi’s factory produced, exactly what the metal you were working with was being used for.

And you could feel them around you. Like mosquitoes.

Your mouth is calling out before your mind is even aware your lips are moving.

“Enforcers!”

It’s too late. They’re already storming into the building, the doors of the arena slamming open. A small army of enforcers, fully armed, swarm into the space. Their guns are out, pointing around the once-cheering crowds. People begin to scream, many people running every which way towards various exits. Other people, including you, Sevika, and the guys are running up towards the guards. Vander’s already got one, slamming his bare fist into the guy’s metal mask hard enough that with a loud ‘thwunk’, the guy collapses. Similar to Sevika, who hops the ropes to slam her full bodyweight onto one enforcer in particular, grabbing another one to slam his head into the exterior wall of the ring. You’re about to hop down yourself when a flash of pink catches your eye, and you zero in on one enforcer in particular who has his gun pointed straight at Narco, who’s shielding his wife and daughter, bare-fisted and staring the officer down.

You don’t even think twice. Dashing toward them, hand out, you latch your magic onto that Enforcer’s gun and snatch it over to you. The moment it lands into your hands your over the ropes and down next to Narco, slamming the butt of the rifle straight into the Enforcer’s shoulder. Red fills the corners of your vision as you use your free hand to latch onto the guy’s chest plate, lifting him with ease and flinging him across the room like a ragdoll. You shove the gun into Narco’s empty hands, grabbing hold of another officer’s nearby, grabbing the firearm for yourself. You’re about to aim it when the air shatters like glass, a shot rings through the arena. Immediately, the entire space goes from pure mayhem to dead silent, enough to hear your own heart beating, thudding like it wanted to spring out of your chest.

The whole room freezes as Captain Grayson walks in through the busted door, pistol held high with a thin trail of smoke emitting out of the barrel.

You could drown in the silence of that room it was so heavy. The whole world seemed to stand still as all eyes fell on the female chief, not a single soul of the Underground even dared to breathe as she lowered her gun and holstered it. Then she spoke, her voice projected loud enough that it seemed to echo like the bullet from her gun.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Fissures,” She announces, “apologies for the interruption.” Her eyes are searching, scanning the crowds. Your eyes dart to your friends, Silco’s got a knife held up against the throat of the Enforcer he has pinned up against the stands, and Vander’s got one under each arm, and another under his boot. But Benzo’s openly holding his side as he stands at the receiving end of one of the damned metal barrels. You’re too busy focusing on them, and on that frequency that the metal guns give off, that you don’t even notice when Grayson’s eyes land on you. She points. 

“Her.”

One of the Enforcers behind you grabs your arm, making you drop the gun. Immediately, you fight back, landing your elbow to his helm. But it only knocks him back an inch. You turn and grab his chest plate like you had the other guy, but before you can throw him, one of his comrades manages to swat you, pushing you onto the floor, barely being able to catch yourself on your hands. You hear a couple of people shout out your name before you feel a heavy metal leg pressing down onto your back, pinning you to the ground. They move, straddling your body and catching your hands, pinning them uncomfortably behind you. You can’t move them. No hands, no magic. Shit.

“Let me g-!” You scream, but the person on top of you grabs your head and slams it into the hard concrete. The world gets a lot more dizzy.

“Minerva, you’re being arrested for the physical assault and attempted murder of Officer Grant Thompson-” “Who?!” You’re ignored, and you feel the cold metal of handcuffs being shackled onto your wrists. “You will be taken into police custody until an official preliminary decision is made by the council…” He goes on for a while, but your mind is spinning too quickly to listen to him clearly. Heavy boots walk towards you, and you’re barely able to strain your eyes up enough to see Grayson towering up over you. She hands something to the man on top of you, it looks like a roll of thick tape.

“Wrap her hands. She can’t be able to move them.”

The officer only pulls you up once your hands are completely mummified in the thick, sticky material. Even if your head was clear enough for you to focus on your magic, your hands were literally stuck together. Around you, everyone; Vander, Benzo, Silco, even Sevika, Narco, and Skye. All of them are held at gunpoint as they try and wrestle towards you. Violet’s crying out in loud sobs. Your eyes meet Vander’s, and you swear you’ve never seen his eyes so full of rage. You want to call out to him, but Grayson’s hands grab your jaw and force your head to face her.

“I promised you there would be consequences to your actions.”

You can’t think of what to say. Your head hurts too much. So you spit on her boots, a giant glob of saliva and blood. She stares down at it, apathetically, then waves her hand. The man tightly holding your cuffs pushes you towards the door. You try and fight back, stumbling up to him with a snarl, but he lands a firm right hook to your face, which sends you collapsing onto the ground. Distantly, you hear Vander’s voice call out to you again.

Too bad you couldn’t have dodged him like Sevika.

You’re forced to your feet again, and this time all but carried out the door. You can't move enough to fight back and aren't really even sure which direction you're heading. Everything is so woozy... As you descend into the darkness of the night, you hear Grayson’s voice address the crowds once more.

“Apologies again for the interruption. You all have a good night.

[jankwritten]

what's left of my heart (is forever yours)

fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus

relationship: Jason Grace/Nico di Angelo

summary: Nico needs help asking Jason to be his boyfriend. Will Solace is up for the task.

“I think I need your help asking Jason out.” 

Will, sitting across from Nico on his bunk in Cabin 13, taps his makeup brush against the hard edge of an eyeshadow palette. The soft but firm bristles press into the crease of Nico’s eyelid, just a little bit too hard for comfort. 

Will doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even emote like he heard. Did he not hear? Or is he ignoring the question on purpose? 

The brush draws away, digging back into the yellowy-orange pigment they agreed on earlier. Nico watches Will’s eyes for anything, recognition, something. His eyebrows go up and he purses his lips a little bit, but when he brings the brush back up to Nico’s other eyelid, there’s still nothing. 

“Will?” Maybe this was a mistake. His stomach churns uncomfortably. He should’ve brought it up before Will agreed to help with his makeup for today, should’ve brought up his plans before they even got into his cabin, gods, he knew this was a bad idea. “Just- just forget I asked, I’m sorry. That was insensitive, and I-” 

“Hush,” Will instructs.

(read more on ao3)

(this is the final part of my "makeup fic" series, which I forgot to post WHOOPS so here it is! ta da! at long last!)