#especially if it makes moon smoosh their face more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gallusrostromegalus · 1 month

Note

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach Fanfic #renji abarai #sosuke aizen #gin ichimaru #mayuri kurotsuchi #shuuhei hisagi #the moon landing #And THAT's why the moon is fucked up in spirit world!#long post

448 notes · View notes

catboyieejeno · 12 days

Text

bf! intak who falls asleep on your shoulder during car rides and plane rides instead of the other way around. probably drools a little too, but you don’t have it in you to wake him up because his eyes are half opened and his cheek is completely smooshed. so endearing, it would be a crime to disturb him :(

bf! intak who blushes furiously when you kiss his cheek. kisses on the lips are phenomenal, and they are his absolute favorite—but there’s something so sweet about you giving him a kiss on the cheek, especially when you have to stand on your tippy toes and rest your hands on his chest.

proceeds to hold your hands where they rest, looking down to hide the flustered, dorky smile that takes over his features.

“one more” he’ll ask, giving you the softest, pleading eyes. “please?”

bf! intak who blows raspberries on your tummy, and kisses it after. who also has a habit of playing with your fingers, or your rings if you’re wearing any. who has to be touching you at all times, whether it’s a hand on your hip, or your knee, or the small of your back. has to be touching you, and if he isn’t because you’re not nearby, he’ll perk his head up, and look around until he spots you. jogs over and fits his hand into yours with a kiss to your knuckles, mumbling “i was wondering where you went :(“ “but it’s okay!” he beams “cause i found you!”

bf! intak who wakes you up by accident every morning when his lips press into your shoulder or your neck or your jaw. the funny thing is: he’s still asleep. he’s kissing you and nuzzling into you in his sleep with his warm cheek pressing against yours and his hair tickling your face. his arm pulls you tighter to him when you stir, and finally, he wakes up when you stretch, in fear that you actually meant to get up.

“don’t get up yet… please, you’re s’warm..”

“intak, baby, i was just stretching.”

“come closer >:(“

scowls but with his eyes closed until you’re completely wrapped around him and under the mountain of blankets again.

bf! intak who always insists on showering with you. 9/10 times, he’s in there with you, and 6/10 times, it isn’t even sexual. he’s making a mohawk out of your hair with shampoo, and molding his own hair to match with a silly grin on his face. he’s scrubbing your face wash lovingly onto your cheeks and kissing your nose as you smile up at him (then proceeds to wash his face like a MAN all rough and crazy, which earns him a bit of a scolding from you). he holds you under the water and steals little pecks as the water bill gets higher and higher (at this point, you would’ve saved more water taking separate showers).

if you guys are playing music he’s singing loudly between giggles and designating parts so that you guys can put on a little concert. If there’s no music then he’s bickering with you about how you’re hogging the hot water, so he pushes you out of the way. only stays there for a few seconds though, cause the thought of you being cold makes his heart break a little. switches sides with you again with a little feigned annoyance, but even when you insist you aren’t cold he convinces you to stay under the hot stream.

bf! intak who tries his best to cook for you, following recipes of foods you’ve liked to the very last detail. refuses to let you help, but will allow you to sit on the counter as his personal cheerleader so he can steal a kiss or two or ten as he works.

is so careful to measure everything right, letting you try it along the way (only after he’s approved of the taste himself). watches for your reaction so so eagerly and smiles SO big if you say it’s good.

bf! intak who loves being praised by you. sometimes even fishes for compliments because any kind of approval from makes his heart so full and makes him feel so loved! “don’t i look handsome today?” or “did i do a good job?”

whether you compliment his outfit or his looks, or you simply tell him thank you for something, he’s over the moon

bf! intak who is has such a huge heart and gives it over to you completely. it’s yours! so don’t break it. falls first and falls harder, from the very first moment he sees you is so whipped. willing to give you absolutely everything and anything you want.

is so gentle, so considerate, so caring, so intak.

truly your best friend & lover all in one.

400 notes · View notes

collectivecloseness · 2 months

Note

omg how did I miss that ask about catboy kurt that is so cute!! Tbh I immediately would've thought puppy kurt because idk I guess because Joe has a very infamously puppy-like face lol. But kitty kurt totally makes sense! He seems like the type who likes to curl up in your lap and nudge you with his head when he wants attention 🥰

Absolutely puppy!Kurt works so so well and I would definitely love to talk about him too! But catboy Kurt Kunkle is also such an amazing thought lmaoo

(Obviously hybrid stuff ahead so just skip if it’s not for you! :))

Cat hybrid Kurt is a headbutter. Sometimes it’s to get your attention, sometimes it’s affectionate, sometimes it just feels good to him to do so. But he will absolutely ram his head into you if he needs to get his point across about something also. Even if you’re saying “Ow! What the hell? Kurt. Stop.” He wants something from you and he will keep going!

But then he’ll also lovingly nuzzle his head/face right into you too so it’s very sweet <3 💕 If not sometimes a bit ticklish, especially because he’ll be on top of you and pushing you down with his face with little to no escape

Attention whore of a cat hybrid, Kurt is a slut for attention anyway, but he’s so dramatic about it like this. He can be kinda fickle and sassy and a bit stubborn, and will bite down on you quickly just to get you to look up at him, even if he’s staring daggers at you when you do because hello why are you on your phone and not looking at him right now??

Biting you biting you biting you. Only quickly though. Enough to get your attention. And to move away before you pull his face off of you, don’t push him away >:(. Gaining your attention and pulling back so you’re immediately looking right at him once you’ve assessed ‘the damage’, and then he can tell you what you’re doing wrong; mostly not giving him ‘adequate attention’.

Clings onto you, and will accidentally scratch you with his fingernails. But it’s worse when he’s climbing all about, getting on the head of the sofa and crawling down you because clearly he was so uninteresting before this. Kurt will wait in the shadows and pounce; one second you’re putting your keys by the door, and the next Kurt is on your back in a surprise attack and is clinging on so you can’t shake him off, asking why were you twenty minutes late today he was so bored without you.

But kitty!Kurt is also so sweet. He absolutely curls up on your lap. Ends up dozing off on you some afternoons, but if you wake him up (because he’s heavy, and he’s breathing wetly into your neck, and he’s twitching in his sleep), then he’s complaining and trying to tiredly drag you to bed so you’ll nap with him. He’ll curl up to you in a much more comfy way in bed. He just wants to be all close and warm with you and snooze right now, please?

And again, the nuzzling is very very sweet of Kurt. Sometimes a bit ticklish, but he loves doing it so much until you’re positively snorting with laughter, his own chuckles escaping him as he scrunches his cute face up, not letting your face move anywhere away from him.

When Kurt’s feeling soft and domestic he will gently push and rub his hands into your body, you’re not sure if it’s kneading type behaviour or a stim, or Kurt just likes it cause he’s Kurt. He loves just moulding your thighs and your tummy and your chest and even your face, anywhere he can get at you. Although again, he’s pressing you down and you’re gonna be stuck with him on top of you if his eyes have turned to full moons and he’s caught up on smooshing your cheeks over and over.

Kurt baps at your nose too. Lightly and lovingly though, not full on smacking you. Not unless his coordination’s fucking him over again. Sometimes you wake up with a tickly nose, and Kur’s big brown eyes staring down transfixed at you. His face super close as he studies you, in his very Kurt way. And oh he’s straddling you to do so, good morning to you too man.

He will give you small little licks as well. I hc Kurt definitely does lick you occasionally in an everyday type au, but he’s very sweet with it in this one. Gives you little kisses planted all up the side of your face, then a small kitten lick there too. Kurt likes grooming you, which also spreads his scent everywhere so you stink like Kurt™️, and other hybrids can smell him on you, and vice versa.

It’s also a really nice way of spending lots of time together, and with him getting to be affectionate and mark you up and be loving with you, just in the somewhat quiet he rarely let himself have before you.

But he likes just sitting with you as you stroke through his, freshly washed, hair, and you kiss over his face softly, whilst he gives slow and small licks all over your face. Gentle laps here and there to your chin, your cheek, your nose, your head, your lips - which turns into him being able to kiss you very happily. Although Kurt does have to learn that yes you are going to wash off if he has absolutely laved your face in his spit, and he’s just lapped at your hairline as well, you are going to take another shower, yes he can join you while you do so.

He loves that you allow him to express his own way of love with you, you’ve never thought he was weird, or told him off for doing something he’s trying to be nice with, and he’s so thankful for you for that.

And after a long day of working on his social media and his life and all of that stuff that makes his head buzz, Kurt loves being able to crawl to you from behind, spooking you as he silently crawls up and over the arm rest, before snuggling in your lap. Purring into your neck, pushing his head in there because it feels stimulating for Kurt and it’s nice and warm and soft and smells like you, and a mix of you and him after he’s finished politely lapping and gently nibbling at it. All while you stroke his bare back with your soothing nails, and read to him. Answering any and all his questions that pop into his mind while he’s snuggling with you, and speaking with him so softly every time.

#also sorry I’m late to this i was not well at all the past couple of days haha #but I love talking abt hybrid au stuff pls send any more of that in!!#abt cat!Kurt or any hybrid of a character I write I love chatting abt that au with y’all! 💕#Kurt Kunkle #cat hybrid Kurt #kurt kunkle/reader #kurt kunkle hcs #Kurt kunkle drabble #Kurt kunkle thoughts #spree 2020 #anon #ask

6 notes · View notes

nulltune · 2 years

Note

LYNNYPOO!! what are some of ur fav icons of Hakuno and why do u like them👀? (no need for a specific order)

GAHDAMN IS THIS A TOUGH QUESTION SMOWU!!!!!! i love all my icons 🥺 bc they are all hakuno and i love hakuno so like......yea... GDJCHSHF I JOKE! there are some icons i'm not too fond of (bc of the way i colored or edited it eee) 🗿 BUT I DO NOT HAVE THE HEART TO DELETE THEM BC IT'S MY BELOVED MOON BONBON 😩❤️ that is not ur question tho but aAAAAAAA THIS IS FR SO TOUGH TO ANSWER??? THIS IS NOT 100% SET IN STONE BUT SOME LYNNYPOO FAVS I THINK WOULD BE (AND IN NO SPECIFIC ORDER!!)

POUTYBLUSHYKUNOS!!!!!!! i'm weak for these 😩 i just think she is so Cute!!!! i like her blushy face in general but pouts just!! make it Extra Cute methinkss 💘💘 RLLY ESPECIALLY LOVE THE SECOND WAAAHHH i think it's so cute how hakuno tries to keep her cool when she's flustered but kinda fails sgfksgd (even in official art of her blushing her brows are kinda furrowed!! she is def a pouter methinks <3) idk why but i find that so cuuutteee AND DON'T U FEEL LIKE SMOOSHING/SQUEEZING/PINCHING HER CHEEKS IN THESE ICONS......!!!! it'd only make her more pouty but as i said, poutykuno is a cutekuno so that's just an extra win honestly!

I'VE NEVER USED THESE ONES IC BUT 🥺 I LOVE THIS SMILING ONESSSS AA I CLUTCH MY CHEST i don't have stoic hakunos in this list but don't get me wrong i luv luv her normal stoic face too 💖 but her being expressive?? GOOD FOOD. she looks so happy here pls 😭😭😭🥺🥺 very fond of the gap between her usual :| self and how happy she can be hhngh official art of her smiling this brightly usually have her eyes closed but i still like these a lot!!! just look at that sparkle in her eyes!!!!! 🥺🥺 very happy i added the subtle blush too bc i just think it adds to her cuteness here IT FILLS MY HEART WITH SM SEROTONINNN and pls i love hakuno sm i think she deserves the world and dESERVES TO BE HAPPY!!!! so yes i just love my icons of her smiling but these ones..... idk they just hit DIFF oooough and i just love it when hakuno is like hyped/excited... SHE IS SO CUTE 😭 AND I LOVE HER ENERGY IN THOSE MOMENTSSS i feel likr these icons have some of that energy and i'm just <333

OOOHOOHOO I REALLLYYY LIKE THIS EYE ICON FOR SOME REASON 😳 I LIKE A LOT OF HER EYE ICONS TBH!!!!! a lil upsetti bc i colored her icons lighter than her hair because it is lighter + her eyes are her most expressive/beautiful feature so they need to POP 👏 OFF 👏 (NOT IN THE LITERAL WAY THO!) but alas..... my psd just makes it look the same color </3 I STILL LIKE EM A LOT THOOO but this one's a personal fav cuz 😳 idk why but i just rlly like the energy it has??? rlly like the cropping too i just think it looks neaatttt ✨️✨️

THIS CONTEMPLATIVEKUNO IS ALSO A FAVVVV i think she is so cute heree 🥺 OH HAKUNO HAS A THINKING POSE SIMILAR TO THIS IN GAME and i have always thought it is So Cute. def one of my fav hakuno poses!!! (along with her hands on chest pose and polite hands on her lap as she sits very elegantly pose ✨️) i like her expression in this tooo her mouth is kind curved like ^ in the way that i think is rlly cute and that just adds bonus points 4 me I THINK SHE IS SO LOVELYYY her closed eyes look is also very pwetty 💖💖 i just like it a lot!!! i think her hair looks so nice here and her hand is dainty and delicate and pretty and hhhHHHHH I JUST LOVE IT

IDK WHY BUT I RLLY LIKE THIS ONE... this fc has some outfits that is just,,, So perfect for my hakuno and they're all pretty much just black and white, but i think it looks so nice on her! rlly like the way her hair flows here tooo 😌😌💖 also captures hakuno's energy rlly nicely methinks! the pose is pretty polite and i feel like it captures her meek-ish energy nicely..... she has a strong front but the softest heart yknow 🥺

I LOVE THIS ONE TOOOOO obviously because hakuno's a beaut and she's as beautiful as always in these icons 💖 but i feel like.... there is a vulnerability to this one,, she looks so Soft(TM) in such a delicate way which is honestly the vibes i try to get with her!! and like i said in the prev para, hakuno has a strong front (which she has even when she's suffering the most, ouchie ouchie 🥲) but she rlly is the softest inside and i just- love to see her more vulnerable side tbh!!! it feels so tender........... WHEN U SEE HER LIKE THIS DON'T U GET THE FEELING OF WANTING TO EMBRACE HERR (<- A SIMP) 😩😩 IT'S LIKE THIS ONE MANGACAP THAT'S SO HAKUNOCORE THAT U SENT ME-- THAT THOUGHT JUST CAME TO ME ALL OF A SUDDEN but yeah i just rlly like this one!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 she is so lovely and i just sobbb into my grubby paws

aNOTHER ONE I HAVEN'T USED IC but i rlly want to 😳 HVEKFJEKD OK LISTEN, I LOVE MY GIRL. BUT I ALSO LOVE PAIN AND THIS ICON HURTS???? i still think her hair is so pretty heree and i just rlly like how the tear looks! i have a couple more bloody and dying hakuno icons but this one is my fav out of em (nodnod) i just like it a lot!!! even without the blood i feel like you can just tell the amount of pain and how close to death she is and hRNGH it hurts!!!!!! extra hurts too bc we've seen in last encore how vulnerable hakuno looks when she's dying (AND HOW SHE CRIED THERE TOO 😭😭😭) and i think thks just captures it vvv well!

OK I HAVE A LOT MORE THAT I LIKE BUT!! THIS CHIBI HAKUNO HITS DIFF AGDKEHKFJEJFJE i think her o.o face is suuuper cute okok!!!! AND THIS ONE JUST CAPTURES THE ESSENCE OF THAT SO PERFECTLY??? (I SQUISH HER LIKE.... MOCHI) i just love the energy she has here even tho i'm not even sure what kind of energy it is?? i love it sm tho and i like all of my chibikuno icons!!! but this one def has a special place in my heart 🥺💘 SHES SO CUTE AUGH

#long post /#a loT OF ICONS SO BE WARNED-#i also gush a lot bc (downs a whole glass of maple syrup) I LOVE MY MOON WIFE #ANDDD TYSM SMOLIE FOR SENDING THISSSS!!! 🥺🥺🥺#THANK U FOR ENABLING MY SIMP ASS SGKFSHKFHEKFJEKFJDJ #I WOKE UP TO THIS ASK AND MAN OH MAN STARTING OFC MY DAY GUSHING ABT H.AKUNO IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT 😌😌💖✨️ SO TY AGAIN SMOLIIEEE 💞💞💞💕💗#also sorry i can never shut up and when it comes to h.akuno i just- /LOVEMAIL LOVEMAIL LOVEMAIL LOVEMAIL/#&&. out of

4 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

Text

Luke Crain Headcanons

Request: Hi🥺I’m usually not to good about making request but I’m trying to breakout of my shell on that cause you are an amazing writer and I love everything you write!! But can I request a Luke Crain headcanon where you guys grew up together but distanced while he was in rehab but you came back together after what happened with Nellie! Thank you so much you’re an angel🥺💛

Thank you SO much @cathrinexxxv I LOVE LUKE CRAIN! Also I’m so ready to binge watch all of Bly Manor tomorrow!! <3

You and Luke first met when you were very young. As in, really really little. To this day, you’re still constantly teasing him and making him blush smile about his huge magnifying pair of glasses and his obsession with bowler hats.

You and your family used to live in the small village which was a fifteen minute walk away from the looming heights of Hill House, so when a rumour started spreading down the houses that a new family full of children were moving in for the summer, you, naturally, were intrigued.

One night, when you had heard from your mother that the new family had moved in, you sneaked out your back garden on a warm afternoon before dinner, cutting through the dark and dingy forest until you reached the outskirts of the property. Seeing a boy around your own age sitting on his own on the burnt grass, you waved to Luke from behind the branch of a nearby, crooked oak tree. He was startled, to say the least, but as he watched you hide slightly behind the bark, he was surprised to find he wasn’t scared in the slightest.

He felt as if he almost knew you already. As if this was always meant to happen, that you were meant to find each other here.

Nudging his glasses back up the bridge of the nose, he shyly waved back. Once he finally realised that you weren’t going to budge from your hiding place, nervous from the stories your neighbours had told you about this house, he decided to pick up his crayons in one fist and his paper in the other, before he sets off half stumbling, half stomping along the uneven ground towards you.

When he finally reaches the trunk, he stops and looks at you kind of funnily, tilting his head slightly before he decides the right reaction was to smile at you.

‘My name is Luke Crain. Do you want to play with me? All my siblings ignore me and they don’t want to draw with me.’

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon huddled under the shaking leaves, sitting on the roots of the tree, Luke tracing out a picture and you giggling as you tried to bump his hand out of the way to colour it in.

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. Nellie loved you of course, and saw you as her honorary best friend as well, as did the rest of the siblings (even though Shirley would never admit it, and Theo was too stubborn to), which meant constant sleepovers at Hill House.

Hugh would always chuckle and shake his head when he peeked into Luke and Nellie’s room, seeing Nell asleep on a red bean bag with a half open bag of sweets lying deserted by her feet, and you and Luke sprawled out on the mat by the iron railings of his bed, snoring.

You were also the only one he allowed up into his treehouse. Although, sometimes he was too embarrassed to let you, or his siblings, in, because he had stuck pictures up on the wall of the drawings he had tried to do of you.

Growing up with Luke also meant having to calm him down after he starts seeing the tall, floating ghost. Sometimes you would try to climb up the ivy outside of his bedroom window, only to topple into the house headfirst when you start to hear Luke’s high pitched screaming coming from under his bed. Although Olivia would come running in, she would always end up comforting sobbing Nellie, as Luke would only grab onto you, the two of you sitting on the edge of his bed as you remind him the rule.

‘Breathe in and out Luke, that’s it. In and out, seven times - that’s what keeps you safe.’

‘Eight’, he would say with a trembling breath. ‘Eight times. You’re my family too.’

The two of you were gutted when Luke had to move away, but your parents could already see how close the two of you were, and so decided that a move away and a new school for you, perhaps, wasn’t the worst idea. Especially, they decided, since you had been there that night as well.

Although the two of you were close for the whole of your childhood, it takes Luke until he’s eighteen years old to realise just how long he’s really been in love with you. It takes some nudging on from Nellie, pointing out how you would run up to his locker during breaks between classes and just fill him in on how your day was going - each break, no matter how long it had been, without fail. Luke was the only person you wanted to talk to, and from the look of pure delight on Luke’s face as he leans against his locker door and gives his full, undivided attention to you, you’re the only person he wants to listen to.

Or how, Nellie would continue, you would come round to their house for dinner, and although Aunt Janet tried to separate the two of you by sitting you opposite each other, you would just spend the whole dinner ignoring whatever Theo was talking about and giving each other funny looks as you kicked each other in the shin.

Or, when the two of you got a bit older, and you would sneak out of your dorm to visit him in the middle of the night, throwing little rocks at his window until his curtains would rustle and the window latch would be thrown open, his grinning face peering down at you. Despite having spent the whole weekend together, reading to each other in the town’s local library, or just lying shoulder to shoulder watching movies, the two of you would sit out in his garden, on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you.

That’s when he finally realised how immensely, and terrifyingly in love with you he was.

It scared him, to realise this, but deep down he knew it had always been you.

He has so many nightmares though. So many nights are spent with his head lying heavy in your lap, as you brush through his golden hair, trying to shush him and calm him down, or rocking him as he cries into your shoulder because of the nightmares he has about his mother, or about Abigail.

As the two of you start to escape your teenage years, and the wishful chasing after each other that came with it, your relationship becomes slightly more strained when he starts using. You choose to move in with Nellie for a while, once he finally goes to rehab. When she gets married, and you're forced to find somewhere new to live, you think you'll never hear from the Crains again - you get the odd visit from Nell, or Theo, but they're so busy enjoying the newly wed life, or studying for their degree that it's not enough - nothing fills the hole that comes from missing Luke.

It hurts that he never comes to see you, but little did you know that he used to sit at his little beige desk every night, underneath the barred window, just staring up at the moon as he bit on the edge of his pen, a feeling of such wistfulness and loneliness and longing weighing down his chest.

He used to write you a letter, every day, just pouring out all the feelings he was too afraid to tell you, but he always crumples them up and throws them away, too scared to send them.

When Steve phones you up to tell you the news about Nellie’s passing, you told him to immediately come and pick you up.

You're terrified when you open the door and walk out into the bone chilling night to hug him, your heart thumping in your chest when he tells you about how Luke has left rehab again and is somewhere out on the streets, probably using. It breaks your heart, but you know you have to be the one to find him, to bring him back.

When you reach him, and see the man you've loved since you were a child wandering, shoeless and shivering along the freezing, cracked pavement, muttering to himself, you can’t help a tear slip out as you unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of Steve’s rental.

Luke is so terrified, he doesnt recognise you for a second. It’s only a second, though, before his eyes widen and he pounces on you, wrapping you into him so familiarly, his frame looming large above you but yet feels so fragile in your grasp as he buries his head into the side of your neck and starts crying.

‘I’m so, so cold, Y/n, and my arms are s-s-so stiff, and I’m s-so sorry, I’m so sorry-’

You can’t bear to tell him the news, so you just hold the nape of his neck and pull him tight against your chest, hating the way his whole body shakes in your hold.

On the day of Nell’s funeral, he doesn't leave your side once - it’s as if the two of you had never been separated at all. As everyone files in through the main door, ignoring the sour face on Shirley as they wander into the reception area, you and Luke just sit knee to knee on the couch opposite the entryway.

‘I tried to write to you,’ he starts, as he fumbles a cigarette from out of his breast pocket and tucks it away behind his ear, trying to busy himself with anything so he doesn’t have to meet your confused eyes, and so you don’t have to see the guilt ridden in his. ‘I want you to know that. Nellie kept on telling me off, but i just didn't know how to say what i needed to say to you.’

‘Luke, its okay, i understand how difficult it was for you-’

‘No-no, Y/n, no more excuses! You mean so much to me and i- i cant... i can't lose anyone else. Just-’

He's so gentle when he finally reaches over and kisses you, trying to shake off his fear and just show you what he meant instead. His suit rumples against your chest as he smooshes himself against you, cupping your cheeks softly with his large hands as he tilts you to the side to meet him in a needy, a desperate, a long anticipated kiss.

He doesn’t pull away - he can't - until you finally break for air, and only then does he finally concede and places his forehead against yours with a soft thud, just closing his eyes in both agony and bliss.

‘I’m sorry that took me so long to do.’

‘It was worth the wait. Although, I have to be honest, your timing has always been rubbish.’

He chuckles, his deep voice vibrating against your chest as he rests his head on your shoulder like a lost puppy, gazing up at you with those wide, lost eyes, and for the first time you can finally see the adoration and awe and just pure love that’s always been in them.

For the rest of the reception. before he tells you of his plans to go back and burn Hill House to the ground, is spent with the two of you escaping from his siblings by stepping outside and sitting on Shirley’s porch. Your arms stay linked tightly together, as if afraid to let go again, and his coat is wrapped around both of your shoulders as he rests against you, just content to be surrounded by your presence.

436 notes · View notes

maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

205 notes · View notes

killuaisaprincess · 3 years

Text

Embrace

Killua didn’t want to admit it.

How empty the apartment felt without Gon in it.

It was becoming apparent with each passing day. Killua had been trying to brush it off; the idiot probably just forgot to charge his phone... he was fine. He has to be okay. Gon wouldn’t just leave for three days without saying anything.

Right?

There’s a pit in his stomach that won’t go away...

The blue light of the TV hurts his eyes, but Killua’s desperate to take his mind off of Gon. His phone is shoved between the couch cushions, so he won’t be tempted to grab it.

He gnaws on his bottom lip, digging his nails into his skin, removing them, and staring at the crescent moons left in their wake. His ears and throat burn, his mouth dry, and he swallows a painful lump down, trying not to cry. Even if the edges of his eyes are raw, pink, and puffy, he hasn’t cried. He had just been rubbing them in constant for the last few days, all to keep tears away.

The click of a door rings loudly despite the fan running, their busted freezer on life support about to give out, creaking and humming loudly.

Killua weighs his options. Should he give Gon the silent treatment? Killua gets off the couch, dragging his feet across the wooden floor, balling his hands up into fists. He has half the nerve to punch the dumbass, kick him in the gut. Making him worry like that.

When the door opens, Killua stiffens before running headfirst right into the expanse of Gon’s chest, clenching his fresh white t-shirt.

Gon mumbles a hey, lowering his hand to Killua’s waist, draping it there, the other going to his shoulder. Killua wants to jerk away, but Gon’s so warm, and he missed that. He missed his warmth; he missed his stupid, idiotic tendencies, his laugh, his voice.

So when Gon does laugh, a deep rumble from his chest into a chuckle, Killua is conflicted.

“Did someone miss me?”

For a grown-ass man, he has some nerve... putting on that singsong tone...

Killua shakes his head fervently, gripping tighter until his already pale skin is as white as snow against his knuckles.

“No way, you, moron! I hate you!”

He tugs his fingers from the new shirt, slamming his fist down instead, and Gon doesn’t even flinch, humming and rubbing his fingers against Killua’s shoulder bone.

“I-I... you jerk! You left without saying anything! For three whole days! You couldn’t even leave a text?! I was worried sick!”

He closes his eyes, lips pressed into a thin tight line as Gon shuffles, a noticeable weight added to the top of his head, Gon’s chin resting on top.

“I’m sorry, Killua.”

Killua wants to stay mad at him, blinking back hot tears, but then Gon bends down and scoops him up, and Killua goes to shoot him a glare, but those amber eyes are filled with remorse a pitiful smile across Gon’s face.

Gon leans over, nuzzling his cheek against Killua’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Kit Kat. Forgive me?”

Killua hesitates, wrapping his arms around Gon’s neck as the other pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead against Killua’s.

It takes Killua’s breath away every time. Even though he’s seen the freckles dotted across Gon’s skin a million times, the tiny scar next to his mouth, the peach fuzz lining his chin.

But Gon. Gon was thinking the same of Killua. It didn’t matter how many times he saw Killua; he was taken away. His deep blue eyes and the hurt in them hurt Gon. The little divet in Killua’s left eyebrow pale hairs sparse in the middle, the few freckles so light Gon almost can’t see them. By now, he knows them by heart and presses a light kiss to each one even as Killua squirms.

Since his hands are occupied, he simply admires the pieces of Killua’s hair that fall into his eyes, light as the moon.

“You’re so beautiful. Aunt Mito would call me a foolish man for making you wait. I’m sorry, I really am, Killua.”

Something flickers in Killua’s eyes, and he tilts his head down, red splotching across his cheeks.

He pushes Gon’s face away, removing his arms away from that warm neck in the process, fingers tempted to just grab a fistful of ebony hair and smash their lips together.

He decides to be petty instead. His heart still feeling full of hurt, a sorrow that Gon had left him for good.

Killua drags his fingertips against Gon’s chest before tugging them into his own white tank top.

When Gon starts to saunter to the couch, he shuts his eyes, breathing in Gon’s scent of fresh linen and pine trees, and while he doesn’t want to admit it, relaxes in his warmth. He felt so at peace and safe in Gon’s arms, pressing his cheek against Gon’s chest.

When Gon puts him down, Killua bites back a whine.

Killua wants nothing more to be in his arms again, sandwiched between, to remind him Gon is here. He’s here; he didn’t leave. He didn’t get hurt.

But he’s conflicted between the pain and urge for comfort.

Gon doesn’t leave him much of a choice pulling him into his lap and wrapping his arms around.

“Ugh! Don’t! You, you big oaf!”

It doesn’t hold any real malice, even when Killua wants it to. His vision is blurred with tears as he runs his fingertips up and down Gon’s arms, checking every part of Gon to make sure. He’s real. And okay.

“I’m so sorry, Killua.”

Everything burns. Gon’s words, his fingers gently brushing his bangs out of his face, pressing the pad of his thumbs under Killua’s eyes. Killua’s stomach feels like it’s on fire when he looks up. Gon’s eyes are so full of empathy and regret and love. Gon always gave him that look of love. And it hurts so damn much.

It’s not fair; how is he supposed to stay mad at you like this, stupid?

Especially when Gon leans in and kisses his neck gently and earnestly, playing with messy locks of silver hair.

“I’m sorry. I got you some Chocorobots. Does that make it better?”

Gon’s breath tickles against his neck, and a shiver runs down his spine as Gon pulls away, caressing his cheek gently as if Killua would break.

Killua can’t help the way his lower lip juts out into a pout, eyebrows pinched down. He also can’t help leaning into that touch.

“Maybe...”

He grumbles, slapping Gon’s hand away, but the other doesn’t even look upset, smiling goofily.

Killua huffs but finds his head aligning to Gon’s chest again resting there as he smooshes his cheek into the fabric, sighing contently.

Gon looks down fondly, wrapping his arm around Killua’s thin waist, his other hand resting against the small of Killua’s back like how he knows his boyfriend likes.

“You still hate me?”

“Yes! And I’m still mad at you, idiot!”

Or so he says, but it’s not very convincing as he presses himself closer to Gon.

Killua’s words don’t hold any real vice, so Gon doesn’t mind. Humming and pressing a kiss to the crown of his hair.

“I love you, Kit Kat.”

Killua stills for a moment, sniffing.

“I-I... guess I love you too, moron...”

It’s a tiny mumble Gon almost doesn’t make out, but it makes his chest feel light. Killua was so cute when he pretended to still be mad and pout and sulk around, but Gon could always tell when he actually should give Killua space.

“You’re so adorable.”

“Don’t push it, idiot.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

#gonkillu #i made it the first tag so please give us Gonkillu fans smth in the recent tag you’re killing me #I just realized it may be cuz I have Killu//Gon blocked but still!#Killua #killua zoldyck #hxh Gon #gon freecss #gon #gon hxh #killua hxh #hxh Killua #short Ki supremacy #Ki is soft babey!#hxh #hunter x hunter

26 notes · View notes

bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Speak No Evil (Part 17)

It is different now she isn't sure how but somehow it just is. The air still swelters but she doesn’t feel so sapped and spent by it. The sun is no brighter than before, but it kisses her skin with more pleasantry. Azula stops and uncorks her waterskin. She has a small sip, enough to alleviate the dryness in her throat without draining it completely.

“We only have a few miles to go.” Seicho notes.

Azula nods. She thinks it bittersweet that their journey is coming to an end just as she is starting to see the worth of embarking upon it. But then, it is just as well, they are running low on supplies and she would like to sleep on a bed again. Would like to wear some clean clothes.

She is also back to speaking through snapped twigs and fire now that she has used up all of the parchment. Mostly this is okay, but there are some things that are significantly harder to convey without it. Things such as, ‘look out for that spider-wasp’. Usually by the time she gets the message across, the sting has already happened.

She can also do without having sore feet and red, blistered ankles. Seicho sits her down and purses her lips, “you have your shoes laced way too tightly.”

‘I was tired of dirt getting into them.’

“Yes, well now your ankles are swollen. Look at this!” She gestures to Azula’s throbbing ankles. “I already carried you down the side of a volcano and then some, don’t expect me to carry you anymore.”

Azula shrugs and carefully rolls her ankles, trying to work out at least some of the knots.

“We can take a break.”

She doesn’t leave any room for protest, not that Azula has any this time around. Her ankles aside, she still finds herself somewhat hazy and disoriented. She hasn’t exactly had a moment to process the events of this hike. She supposes that the time will come when she is lounging in the beach house. Even still she isn’t sure of how she should be feeling. There is relief sure and a refreshing helping of euphoria. But it is still there, the stresses and the sadness of a loss that she hasn’t quite accepted yet. Two of them actually and she doesn’t know which stings more the absence of her voice or the absence of TyLee. That isn’t true. She misses TyLee terribly. But, Agni, if she doesn’t feel somehow lighter regardless. Especially when she hears Seicho laugh. She isn’t sure what the woman is laughing at, but it takes some tension out of her.

Azula stares at the sky, it is cast in a haze of orange and gold with splashes of pink just on its fringes, where the clouds linger. Likely they will make it back to the beach just after nightfall.

.oOo.

The atmosphere around Azula has changed notably, it is less tense, if only a little and she is significantly easier to talk to. Less hostile and standoffish. Seicho thinks that she must have burned herself out on resentment and is now left with a bizarre sense of peace. Albeit, a fragile sense of it. She is more willing to talk now. If only that hadn’t wasted all of the parchment. So Seicho does most of the talking.

Several times, the woman stops to frown and massage her ankles.

“Do they hurt that much?”

‘I’ll manage’.

Seicho sighs, she supposes that they don’t have that far to go and if she can carry the woman down the side of a volcano then she can manage this. She scoops her into her arms, ignoring gestures and facial expressions of protest. “It’s probably better if you don’t push your luck, it takes a while to heal broken ankles. I’m assuming that you like being able to walk.”

Azula nods and settles into the woman’s arms with no further qualms. She closes her eyes, leaving Seicho to drink in the flutter of the palm fronds and the squeaks, squaks, and chitters of the jungle critters as the hastily make way for the night dwellers.

“It’s a beautiful night.” Seicho notes. She feels Azula nod her head affirmatively.

Without the ability to scrawl messages in the dirt and too close to Seicho to make any fire without hindering their hike, the woman is once again as silent as ever. So Seicho fills it for the both of them, “Maybe I can spend the night at your house? I think that it might be closer than mine.”

Azula doesn’t answer in favor nor in protest.

“I’d like to keep talking to you, if you don’t mind.” She still isn’t sure how the woman feels about her. She does know that she has taken a shine to her though. “I can introduce you to my brother. I can also show you some of the pottery I made.” Every now and then, Azula meets her gaze. “I can teach you to make pottery too if you don’t mind getting clay on your hands.”

Azula gives another nod. Seicho isn’t sure if it had been an agreeing one or a disproving one.

The next time that she makes an attempt to speak, it is to direct Seicho to her beach house. It is only when she stands before it that she finally connects the dots that she probably should have connected right when the woman scrawled her name down.

“It’s huge.” She remarks, mouth agape. Huge and fancy, standing out like a gleaming candle under the freshly risen moon.

Azula, princess Azula, gestures to be put down. She winces slightly when her full weight is shifted back onto her ankles, though she makes her way up the stairs anyhow and beckons for Seicho to follow.

Her head is still reeling with the seemingly sacred knowledge that the crown princess, at the very height of her power, had used her head as a cupholder. Seicho chuckles to herself as she follows the woman into her vacation home.

“Do you need me to call out and tell Zuko that you’re home?”

Azula shakes her head. Apparently she has a much funner way of doing so. She wanders up to the decorative gong at the far end of the room and gives it a very sturdy strike. Seicho hears a thud overhead followed by a string of curses and a very self-satisfied smirk from Azula as she fixes the mallet back in place.

The Fire Lord emerges from the stairwell. “Ravaa’s tendrils, Azula! What the hell!?”

‘I’m home.’ She spells plainly in flame.

“Clearly.” He grumbles and rubs the back of his sleep tousled hair. Alright, so it was several hours into the night when they emerged from the jungle. A little later than Seicho had anticipated. “Where the hell were you?”

‘Jungle.’

“I thought that you told him you left.” Seicho frowns. The words leave her mouth before she recalls that the woman wasn’t planning on coming back at all. She stares at the Fire Lord. He doesn’t know how close he had come to leaving Ember Island by his lonesome.

Azula shrugs. ‘I did.’

“I thought that you were just going for a day-long hike.”

‘Your assumptions are your own fault.’

Zuko exhales.

The gravity of bringing the princess home is accentuated by her brother pulling her into a tight embrace. Her cheek smooshes against his chest, the rest of her face bunched up in disapproval as though the hug were a minor inconvenience to her brooding. He would probably hug her tighter still if he did know how close he had come to losing her.

.oOo.

Azula breaks away from the embrace and gestures to Seicho. Zuko gives her a small wave, “who are you?”

Seicho sticks her hand out. “I’m Seicho. Azula and I went on a...camping trip.”

Azula breathes a sigh of relief. For as chatty as she is, at least the woman knows what things to leave unsaid. She isn’t sure when or how she will tell Zuko of her unfinished intentions. She isn’t sure that she will tell him at all. It hadn’t come to fruition, so really there is no sense in brining it up at all.

She wanders her way to the nearest chair, flops down, and tugs off her boots. The relief is almost instantaneous, though she knows very well that her ankles will still be swollen and sore in the morning.

Zuko takes notice. “What happened.”

“She was wearing her boots too tight. Apparently swollen ankles are better than dirty feet.”

Azula gives a haughty and dismissive sniff.

“Nothing some ice can’t fix.”

‘Good luck finding ice on Ember Island.’ Her statement dissipates in a curl of smoke.

“I’ve been living here my whole life, I know where to find ice.” Seicho shrugs. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow though.”

Azula doesn’t have any qualms about that. She is tired. Extremely so. She can already feel herself drifting out. Though she isn’t sure if the exhaustion is physical or mental. She thinks that it might be a combination of both.

“Do you want to spend the night here?” Zuko offers.

“That would be great.” Seicho replies. She spares Azula a glance. The princess isn’t sure what to make of the look. “You going to walk yourself to bed?”

Azula shakes her head, she will just sleep here. She is too sore and spent to do anything else. Seicho leaves her no room for protest before picking her up again. “Which way to your room?”

“Her room is the third door to the right.” Zuko fills in.

Seicho sets her down on the mattress with a foreign sort of gentleness. And she pulls the covers up to her shoulders with a cheerful smile. It is surreal to be on the receiving end of such care--to be so suddenly and fully struck by the realization that she has been for a while. It is just one more thing that her mind has to catch up to and process.

Someone cares for her. Enough to tuck her in. Enough to put up with her moods. Enough to carry her so far away from her own dark ambitions.

At least this realization, though just as jarring as every other thing that still has to settle in her mind, is pleasant. Soothing. Something that she can cling to and fight for.

“Good night, princess.”

She mouths a good night in return.

“I’ll show you to the guest room.” Zuko offers. He lingers in the doorway for a moment. She thinks that he wants to say something. Though, ultimately, he decides to let her get to sleep. Her dreams are kind.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #TyLee #TyZula #Fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

yamagucji · 3 years

Text

# — MATCHUP REQUEST

for. @sullen-angel24

submission. for my valentines special event

I matched you with...

Iwaizumi Hajime!

he’s utmost respectful to you, your family and friends

if you have any traditions or cultural formalities of some sort, iwaizumi would absolutely take the time to learn about them

(also wants to make a good first impression to your family and friends)

“am i doing this right?” he had spoken up after you gave him some pointers

when you’re with others, he doesn’t mind a bit of pda. sometimes he’d initiate it too —

like rubbing your lower back as the two of you are busy standing somewhere

or if you’re sitting next to him, he’d place a hand on your thigh briefly; a little form of affection that he does subconsciously

but iwaizumi’s definitely much more affectionate behind closed doors

he’ll tuck a blanket over you when he finds you in your writing zone. there’s nothing that comes out of his mouth other than, “take a break soon, okay?”

iwaizumi knows quite a lot about the body and all that, so expect to be taken care of him

you’d be sitting alone comfortably when out of nowhere, a pair of hands reach your shoulders and begin massaging away the knots

“hajime?”

his movements faltered a little bit, before continuing. “i just felt like you needed a massage”

but might i add HE also loves massages? especially from you?

occasionally you’ll find him sprawled out on the mattress, his face smooshed against the pillow. he’ll take a peak at you and grumble out his exhaustion

“angel, do you mind giving me a massage?” it sounded muffled, and your lips were tugged into a smile at the sight of him

he always, always says thank you afterwards by giving you a kiss on the forehead and telling you how great you were

now on to dates

iwaizumi would be the ideal partner to go stargazing at the back of his pick-up truck

i mean it’s memorable, peaceful, and just a really great way to spend time together

if you’re on a roadtrip to somewhere far, he’s one to offer driving

and if you happen to fall asleep — then he’ll turn down the radio, cover you up with a blanket, and perhaps stop by the road to incline your seat

going on roadtrips and stargazing with you is something that iwaizumi would call one of his favorites

he just loves being tangled in your arms underneath a pile of blankets, soft music playing in the background

iwaizumi’s much more on the serious/mature side, but you’ll definitely catch him saying something cheesy while the two of you are snuggled up

“i love you to the moon and back”

or “you take my breath away”

woud cringe a little bit on the inside but makeup for it by giving you some more physical affection

#cupids.matchups #cupids.event #haikyuu matchups

3 notes · View notes

chloe-clegane · 4 years

Text

My Devotion and Mah Protection - Chapter 10 Stone Beats Hand, Every Time

Ao3

Prev Chapter

NEW ART by @yonallaart (she’s amazing, go look at all her pretty things)

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

Rayla left the apartment with a weight tied around her neck. Twice in one day, he’d raised his voice at her. In the throne room, she’d been angry and defiant, dug her heels in and threw it right back at him. Now she just wanted to curl up in a ball, torn between hiding alone or being in his arms.

She and Callum had a number of screaming matches in their three years together. Usually the fights had something to do with her doing something risky and stupid and him getting mad about it, or vice versa. The fights were infrequent and never lasted long, and even if they didn’t come to an agreement they always held each other and apologized at the end of it. Rayla reminded herself of that as she walked to the dungeons with her arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“We’ve been through worse,” she quietly muttered to herself. “I’ll come tae bed later. He’ll kiss me and It’ll be alright.”

She wasn’t able to put herself at ease, what she did manage was compartmentalizing.

When Rayla quietly slipped into the torchlit room, she decided not to show herself and sunk into the shadows. The hurt and sadness she’d carried on the walk down was soothed by anger. It was a much more tolerable emotion and the strangling weight of misery subsided.

The jailers had given Claudia a change of clothes. A plain grey dress that had seen better days hung from her narrow frame. Rayla was relieved. She didn’t want to be reminded of the twisted version of herself staring back at her. She didn’t want that vile grey skin touching anything that belonged to her.

The relief at seeing the prison garb grew to satisfaction as she gazed upon her handywork. In the last hour or so, Claudia’s left eye had nearly swollen shut, her right cheek had a four-finger welt, and her lips were split with dried blood still smeared at the corners of her mouth. It was extremely gratifying to look at. But the marred face wasn’t enough to quench Rayla’s thirst for vengeance. This bitch had fucked her husband and caused his current condition. Rayla had no idea what to even call the state he was in. Devastated? Sickened? Ashamed? Whatever it’s called, it was bad. Claudia’s punishment was far from over if Rayla had anything to do with it. The pain Rayla had inflicted with the back of a hand was nothing compared to that single moment she thought Callum was unfaithful. Before Claudia turned around, before Rayla assessed the situation farther - it was the longest two seconds of her life and the pain was excruciating. Rayla absentmindedly started rolling her right shoulder and she was reminded that the bulk of her recent pain was the fault of this disgusting woman. Rayla knew Callum would never willingly betray her and she could never be mad at him for what just happened. The tart may have seduced Callum, but he must have figured it out because it looked like he was trying to get her off of him when Rayla found them.

Amaya hadn’t missed Rayla’s entrance and quietly joined her. She signed, “Callum okay?”.

Rayla just shrugged and spoke softly. “Have you gotten anythin’ from her?”

It was the general’s turn to shrug. She signed slowly and simply for Rayla’s benefit. “No. This bitch is crazy.”

Rayla’s understanding of sign language was limited to gestures, the alphabet and all the swear words. Which had always been enough for her and her aunt by marriage to get along just fine.

“Claudia if you think he wanted you then why did you do that creepy moon moth thing?” Soren sounded like he’d been asking different versions of the same question for the last hour.

“You just don’t understand.” she was scowling petulantly.

“Try me.” He crossed his arms and stared at her.

She looked away and stayed quiet.

“Sooooo you’re just a total creep then?” he prodded.

“It’s because he can’t see through her manipulation!” she snapped. “He just needed to make love to me. Then I’ll be able to save him and he’ll realize that I’m the one he’s wanted all along.” Kazi, who stood near the cell interpreting the interrogation, made a face. Claudia continued to speak and they continued to sign. “She was sent to kill his family, why would he love her? She’s clearly using her connection to the moon arcanum.”

“You have noooo idea what you’re talking about.” Soren rolled his eyes. “If he didn’t love her then why would he marry her?”

Claudia groaned in frustration.“She’s controlling him and apparently she’s gotten you too.”

Soren was getting increasingly annoyed. “Claudia, the last time you saw him, you tortured his wife and he almost killed you for it.”

She rolled her eyes at him “That wasn’t his fault, Callum was just confused. You’re all stuck in her web, you can’t see what she really is.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, so let's get this straight, Rayla is using evil moon illusions to trick and control people?” he asked with feigned surprise.

“Ugh Soren don’t mock me, yes. ” she rolled her eyes yet again.

“No no no no. Yoooou thought the best way to fix this was to smoosh a dead bug on yourself and use it’s moon illusion magic to trick Callum into doing what YOU WANT!? ”

She spluttered indignantly “I don’t know why I thought you could wrap your head around this. You’re such an idiot Soren, you won’t ev-.”

“ NO! ” he yelled and Rayla felt a surge of pride. “You can’t see it! You can’t see what’s right in front of your face! Or-or what you’ve done!” he paused and processed for a moment with wide eyes. He didn’t yell, but his voice firm. “You’re fucking crazy Claudia.”

He was finally admitting it to himself, not just to her. She scowled and opened her mouth but Soren didn’t let her get a word in. “You’re the idiot Claudia and I don’t think you even know what love is. Because I’m pretty dark magic-ing someone to love you isn’t real love. Callum and Rayla have real love , it’s beautiful but you’re too bonkers to recognize it. You think you understand, but you don’t, you only know Dad’s kind of love, super fake and toxic and it’s...It’s turned you into a monster!” He cried out in frustration, backed away and ran his fingers through his hair “UGH! I can’t do this! Amaya, you take over.”

He turned and stormed out of the room. His jaw was set and bitter. Claudia called after him to come back but he didn’t turn, he also didn’t see Rayla in the shadows by the door. She contemplated going after him, but figured he could use some time to cool off. Rayla again decided to stay hidden as Amaya and Kazi continued the questioning. They asked about where Aaravos was and tried to get her to elaborate on the power-sucking thing. They didn’t get anything useful, just the pathetic crying and daft musings of a mad woman.

It occured to Rayla that Soren had actually hurt her with his words, that her tears weren’t fake. In different circumstances maybe Rayla could almost feel sorry for her and her pathetic broken mind. But after today, the look on Callum’s face, all she could feel was hatred.

About twenty more minutes went by and Amaya called it quits. The general looked like she wanted to punch the twat almost as much as Rayla did. Kazi who was usually so timid was delivering some serious side eye.

Just as they were about to leave, Rayla stepped into the light and revealed herself. It startled Claudia and she scooted herself away from the bars.

“How shady of you, hiding in the... shade. H-how long have you been here?”

Rayla didn’t respond, she just stared her down and approached the cell. The last time she’d really seen Claudia it was from the ground and she’d cackled over her.

“Whatever you're doing, trying to intimidate me or whatever, it’s not going to work.” She sounded confident but the additional step away betrayed that. “You know he’s going to-”

Rayla spit on her. “You shouldn’t’ve come here. Yer goin’ tae regret doin’ it”. She turned and followed Amaya out of the room. When Rayla slammed the door behind her she let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a sign. She leaned her back against the door with her eyes closed and clutched and twisted the leather strap of the bag of horrors.

“Spitting’s always a nice touch,” Kazi translated for Amaya. “Especially when you want to really stick it to someone, right... me”. The translator chuckled awkwardly and spoke for themselves, “Rayla - er - Your Highness? Do I call you that now?”

Rayla groaned. “Please don’t.”

She finally opened her eyes and looked at the pair.

“Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, the Gen-er uh... Amaya is referring to a time she once spat at the feet of Her Late Radiance Khessa.”

Amaya started signing and they went back to translating. “It was funny and stupid. If Janai hadn’t there I probably would have been killed.” Callum’s Aunt was silently chuckling at her own apparently fond memory. For her, that seemed about right.

All Rayla could manage was an exhausted smile “I think I got some in’er eye, so I suppose that’s pretty cool.”

Amaya patted her a bit too hard on the shoulder. “See, that’s the spirit. Some days you have to celebrate the smallest victories.” She winked and then pointed at the bag. “What’s this? Hers?”

“Yeah I found it under the bed, it’s full of dead things and-” Rayla pulled out the book and put it in Kazi’s empty hands, “-this. There has tae be somethin’ useful in there.” The Sunfire scholar smiled, eager to be helpful, but looked horrified when they skimmed the pages.

Rayla let out another involuntary sigh and suddenly she was squeezed into a vice grip hug by her Aunt-in-law. When she pulled away, she signed to Rayla directly and simply. “It’s O-K Rayla, R-E-S-T, go,” she told her.

“We’ll take care of this for you,” Kazi smiled sincerely as they patted the book under their arm.

After a bit more urging, and Kazi’s insistence that they love to study and wouldn’t need her help, she finally thanked them and began ascending the stairs.

She thought about going back to the apartment. She was worried about him. She wanted to see him and hold him and make all these anxious bad feelings go away. Because that’s how things worked. When something was bad, they had each other and everything felt less existentially terrifying. But he wouldn't even look at her. Her arms returned to her chest, crossed tightly as she walked. Rayla had never been good at emotions and knowing how to fix the bad ones. That was Callum’s job, and that had always been okay because they were a team. She slished and slashed, he zapped and flew. She got stubborn and aggressive, he talked about the problems and was diplomatic.

She knew the way back to the apartment, the physical route, but she was lost in a different way. Her heart’s compass that usually pointed reliably was broken. So when she came to an intersection in the long castle hallways, she just stood there. She looked down the hallway in front of her, looked back to where she’d come, and then to the left. She’d gone so long without having a real home, she wasn’t ghosted anymore but the Silvergrove still hadn’t felt like right since. That kind of rejection was hard to handle. Rayla didn’t feel ready to go to the apartment, to go home, so she took the turn and attempted to bite down all of the shite feelings in her heart.

It was a quick walk before Rayla knocked on Soren’s door, she heard shuffling, the muffled sound of a blown nose and finally the door swung open.

Ralya was taken aback by the sight of him: his eyes were red like he’d been crying, he looked miserable and she noticed blood on his knuckles that held the door.

“Heeeeey, what’s up?” he said in a way that somewhat resembled cheerful and well-adjusted.

“Soren, uh, yer hands bleedin’,” she pointed out cautiously.

He looked at it like he’d just now noticed, “Oh… uuuhhh yeah… oops”.

She pushed past him into the room and he closed the door behind her. “Takin’ yer anger out on walls now, I see,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeeaah, I didn’t really think ahead that it was gonna hurt this bad.”

“You do know these walls are made of stone right? Stone beats hand, every time.”

“Psh... I know what walls are…” He defended, then quieted. It made Rayla feel guilty.

She gave an apologetic smile. “Hey, how about I wrap that up fer you?”

He nodded and retrieved a small first aid kit from a cupboard. It was a picked over mess but she found what she needed.

They sat in silence for a while, while she cleaned the cut and bruising knuckles.

“Nothin’ looks broken but the skin, that’s good,” she forced a smile at him and he gave a sad one in return. “I can not believe I’m askin’ this, but do you wan’tae talk about why you hit the wall?” She tied off the bandage.

“What? Noooo. I’m fine, I just wanted to test the walls…. For security…” He was incredibly unconvincing.

“Are ye sure it isn't because yer crazy sister broke into the castle and fucked up everyone’s day-?” Her voice was full of sarcastic cheer. You know, that bitch who fucked my husband, she thought to herself.

“Maybe…” his lip quivered and then he burst into a heaving sob. Rayla immediately panicked, the cloth in her hand already damp and bloody. She frantically started looking around the room for a handkerchief. First she picked up an oilcloth for his sword, no. Then a rag that was crusty and rigid, she tried not to yelp and instead screamed internally. Next she found a slightly dirty napkin, it smelled like bacon. That’ll do. She turned back and he was still crying.

“There ya go.”

He blew his nose loudly and she patted his back awkwardly. She had not expected or prepared for this level of blubbering.

“There, there,” she sighed.

He cried for a bit before calming himself down enough to speak. Soren breathed in deeply before beginning again, “S-she’s my little sister an-and you know, I didn’t like her at first,” he sniffled, “I actually told our Mom to give her back to the baby wife lady,” another sniffle. Rayla wondered if he was quoting his younger self or if he still didn’t know what a midwife was. “And then one day, she laughed or something and it was really cute and I liked hugging her and I thought she was pretty neat and then she got big enough to share her snacks with me and it was really cool and I realized it was nice to share my snacks with her and we played together everyday but then one time I put her on the seesaw, right, and I jumped on the other side and she went flying and she was crying and I think she scraped her knees or something and I think I just wanted to see what would happen or I guess how far she’d go, and Rayla it was a bad thing for me to do but it didn’t mean I don’t love her!” The last part came out with a fresh sob.

She knew the confusing rant was going in a direction. But Rayla couldn’t help picturing a dark haired toddler going flying across a playground. Soren and her would have made great playmates growing up, she would have willingly been catapulted.

“Uh, Soren, I’m not sure-”

“Don’t you get it Rayla!? The seesaw’s a metaphor!” he interrupted her and tried to take a controlled breath.

“Yeah... I think I get it,” she said delicately.

“My Dad was really mad at me, I remember him screaming and I kind of deserved it. Claudia was crying and I don’t think she’s ever been on a seesaw since. But after that, my mom sat with me in her lap and she told me that it’s my job to protect her, I should never do something that would make her get hurt like that, ever again. She said loving my sister is one of the most important things I’ll ever do, and to do it my whole life.” He wiped his eyes again and took a long deep breath. “When our Mom left us, she said it again. That Claudia will always be a special person for my life and that I always need to love her and keep her safe.” He kept taking purposeful breaths but then the sobs broke through again. “How did I let this happen to her? She wouldn’t be like this if I took better care of her?”

That pissed Rayla off. He should look out for his sister but this, she’d chosen the path of dark magic all on her own. She’s made choices to do terrible things. Rayla reminded herself Soren is her friend and mustered her sympathy with a big sigh “Oh Soren, None of this is yer fault.”

“That night before the battle at the storm spire, she begged me to stay with her but I walked away” he cried, snot coming down from his nose. He was clutching the napkin but failed to use it.

“And that was a good thing!” Rayla insisted.

“I know, I had to get away from my dad and I needed to leave so I could help you guys,” he steadied his breath again.

“Yes! ” she agreed, trying not to sound annoyed.

“She wanted me to stay but what if I tried harder to convince her , or I could-I could’ve made her come,” he was starting to ramble and she could see his mind racing.

“No, you-” Rayla tried to interject.

“Oh, you know what? I should’ve picked her up and carried her, I’m bigger and stronger and I totally could’ve done it,” what would usually be his excited idea sound was a hiccupping sob.

Rayla couldn’t listen to his guilty bullshit. She grabbed his shoulders, and shook him firmly, “Soren! Should’a would’a whatever! Stop!”

Her words made him freeze. Then she surprised herself when she hugged him. He just sat there a moment before hugging her back. Rayla figured the big fella could use a good hug. When they pulled apart she stayed gripping his shoulders. He wiped his boogers and tears with his sleeve, forgetting his napkin, and listened to her.

“You can’t keep beatin’ yerself up. Families are... complicated, and yers... Yers is toxic. You survived it and got away.” she shook him softly for emphasis. “You would’ve ended up like Kasef, a monster, a dead monster.”

Rayla let go of his shoulders and sat down on the floor in front of him. “You can’t feel guilty fer survivin’” she hugged her knees. “I know what that’s like, feelin’ like you let everyone down, knowin’ people lost their lives…” she sighed. “It made me wish I had died too,” she took a moment to check her emotions. “I let that guilt weigh me down... I guess it still does and it probably always will. I suppose I’ve learned tae carry it now. You have tae tell yerself that what you did was fer the best. You think you could’ve kidnapped yer sister but… It’s not that simple. You couldn’t control Claudia.”

She tried to keep the salt out of her tone when she said the name and paused, her own sad memories surfaced in her mind. A few silent moments passed between them before she spoke again, “I couldn’t control Runnan…” She stopped to take a deep breath and collected her thoughts. “Yer a good person Soren, and you didn’ deserve tae have a shite piece of garbage fer a dad… and neither did-” the anger simmered in the pit of her stomach, “neither did Claudia… back then.”

“But she does now,” he spoke it so sadly and Rayla was caught off guard. The ugly tears had ceased but replaced with a deep sorrow, “The worst part is I don’t think I can save her now. She’ll always go back to him. I listen to her talk and most of it doesn’t even make sense, she’ll go from nice to mean and talk like she loves me and then...”

She wanted to agree, she did agree, Claudia was too far gone, she was terrible. Rayla wanted to dress her up as a glow toad and toss her in the ocean. But Soren looked so sad.

“Soren, I’m sorry you-you don’...” she didn’t know what to say.

They sat quietly again, Soren let out a heavy sigh and asked, “How’s Callum?”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “Honestly? I don’ know.... He-he’s really upset and he told me tae leave him alone...” she pulled her knees in even tighter. “It’s weird… fer him tae do that”.

Soren looked broken-hearted. “Yeah, he looked really bad when I left. But maybe he does just need to be alone for a bit. You guys are so in love and always so really strong for each other. I think it’ll be ok, probably not today but still.”

Rayla just smiled half heartedly and stayed in her little ball.

“What Claudia’s done… I don’t-” he said, trying to put his words together. “Her mind is broken and I used to think that maybe if I could get rid of Viren for good... Then maybe I could unbreak her brain.” He twisted the napkin in his hand.

“But you don’ think so anymore.'' It wasn’t a question.

He stopped again for a breath and nodded. “She’s done a lot of gross things, dark magic stuff and she’s killed people but… doing this to Callum… I’m disgusted by her,” he sounded bitter.

Rayla was baffled. She wasn’t arguing that Claudia was the lowest form of human trash but this being the rock bottom for her… murderer seemed a little worse than being a traumatizing seductive creep. No matter what Rayla hated her and felt both were on the list of worst things Claudia's ever done.

He sighed yet again. “I have something for you, I don’t know if you want them or what I should do but… here,” he handed her a small folded bundle of fabric, her clothing.

She was repulsed as soon as she touched them, Rayla felt like she could feel the pollution clinging to the silk. Claudia had worn these and used them to… she’d worn them on her disgusting grey body and she… Rayla wanted it gone, away from her, destroyed. Without saying a word she went to Soren’s hearth and pulled a few small logs and kindling off the wood rack. She struck the flint and steel.

She touched him. Strike. She tricked him. Strike. She fucked him. Strike. She wanted to take him away from her. The kindling caught.

“Rayla, It’s July and I have to sleep in here,” he whined. She ignored him and he must have realized what she was doing because he didn’t say anything more, just quietly opened his windows.

As soon as the flame came to life Rayla grabbed the nightgown and without hesitation threw it into the flame. The fire consumed the delicate fabric in an instant and the heat washed over her face. When she reached for the stockings the teal ribbon caught her attention and she froze. She ran her fingers along the embroidery. The stockings were one of her favorite things, tied to so many wonderful memories.

They’d laid together and the stockings were the only pieces of clothing still on between the two of them. Rayla’d worn them a few nights in a row, the way he reacted to her was nice. It was obvious wearing them made him happy, and she wanted him to be happy. She loved the way he looked at her. Looking back now, she thought about his eyes at their wedding, it was those looks and the way he touched her that always filled her with joy. She and Callum were intertwined and he had started stroking her leg absentmindedly. Running his finger along the garter ribbon.

“I told you I like the sexy socks,” she had teased him. “I know you want them fer yerself but they’re mine. No take-backs.”

He’d laughed and smiled. “But they might look good on me and they’re soooo soft. ” He made a point of very purposefully stroking her leg “Buuuut,” he’d squeezed her thigh and kissed her, “I like touching them on you way more than I ever could on myself.”

“Well touchin’ yer’self is never as good as when I do it,” she smirked.

“True true” he laughed, kissing her, “Very true,” a blush spread on his cheeks. “I’m really glad you like them,” he’d said softly.

She loved it when he was bashful. After all their time together, every so often, he got nervous when he was being cheesy or romantic.

“They’re the best engagement present I’ve ever had,” she’d said confidently.

He looked puzzled. “I’m pretty sure that was your only engagement present.”

“Still counts as the best though,” she’d booped his nose and they both giggled and kissed before he’d brought them back again to sincerity.

“I sorta worried it was a selfish gift. I just pictured you wearing them and uh...”

“And so it was yer pecker that picked the present then? Yes Callum, that does seem a wee bit selfish,” she teased.

“That was very good alliteration and a very fair accusation but I just thought you would feel pretty. I just, I think you only really care about being pretty when you’re with me.”

“Pshhh it’s not just you,” she’d said, slightly offended.

“Yeah you aren’t a slob.” That statement hadn’t helped him much. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re delicate and vulnerable with me in a way you aren’t with anyone else.”

He’d been right. She reflected and it was true, she was vulnerable with him, she sought his affection and attention.

“I thought it would be something that would make you feel pretty when it’s just the two of us. Is that stupid?” he’d asked her.

She’d laughed in reply. “Maybe a little. But I love you anyways.”

“That’s a huge relief, I was going to be really embarrassed if it turned out you didn’t love me anymore,” he’d sighed.

He’d kissed her and rolled on top of her. “I want you to laugh like this everyday Rayla,” he had said it so sincerely it took her off guard.

She’d tried to say something sarcastic, deflect, but she’d just sputtered and smiled, “Wha-pshhh.”

His smile had stayed sweet and sincere, he’d enjoyed her fluster. Then he’d kissed his way down her body rubbing her thighs stroking her silk bound legs before lavishing her with his tongue.

His touch was as silky as the delicate garter ribbon she held in her hand. He made her feel beautiful and the stockings, they made her feel like a flower, soft and pretty. They were precious to her. She hugged the stockings to her chest and sadness melted onto her from above and sunk into her bones.

She took a deep shaky breath. She didn’t want to cry. She refused. Things would go back to normal eventually, she told herself. Tomorrow, the nerves would subside and they’d both apologize, kiss and hold each other and their world would be set right. Rayla looked down at the stockings, she knew she’ll never wear them again and that alone broke her heart. Despite that, she still couldn’t give them up. So she set them aside sadly and separated the logs with the poker.

“Are you ready to talk about your feelings now?” Soren asked from behind her.

“I don’ know what tae do with them… they’re special,'' her voice was small and mournful. She looked back at him and he nodded sympathetically before pouring two drinks from a bottle on his shelf.

“I think we could both use the edges cut off of our problems today,” he tried to rally.

“Sure, why not?” she said dryly. Still sitting on the floor she raised her arm and he placed the cup in her hand. She took a sip and sighed. She didn’t really care for red wine but he was right, a drink sounded great and she wasn’t going to be picky.

Soren leaned against the mantle and chugged his entire cup of wine in three gulps. Rayla was dumbfounded, “Whoah uhh… you okay big lump? That’s a lot of edge yer trimin’ there,” she chuckled awkwardly.

“Oh yeah I’m totally fine, just super thirsty.” He waved her off before pouring another drink. He sipped slowly this time.

She couldn’t help the side eye she gave. “Sooo uh, tough day all around I suppose.”

“You got that right,” he agreed and slumped into his small sofa. He stared into his cup.

Rayla broke the silence, “I don’ know. I have no idea what tae think right now…. Not at all.”

Soren spoke confidently, “I may not be the smartest but I know one big giant fact.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “And that is?”

“He loves you,” Soren smiled at her, “and nothing my sister does will ever change that. What she did today was terrible and I think he’s probably really confused. But I think he needs you and for sure loves you.”

“Stop makin’ so much sense lump, I find it annoying,” she glared with a small smile before taking another sip.

“Hey, pluuuus you’re cooler than zap hands remember? If anyone can figure all this out, it’s you,” he wiggled zap fingers in her direction.

“Yer so lame…” she rolled her eye but added “but yer also correct, I’m very cool.”

“So cool!” Soren chuckled.

After that, Rayla had food brought up and they had another drink. Soren got out the dice and they tried to distract themselves and have a laugh. It worked for a while, but their usual suspenseful gambling was half-hearted at best, and inevitably one of them would end up sighing and sadly drifting into space until the other knocked them back to reality. Eventually, they abandoned the game and said goodnight. Rayla heard him pour another drink as she closed the door behind her.

The weight had restrung itself around her neck. It pulled at her the whole walk home.

Rayla opened the apartment door. It was dark and Callum was already asleep. She wanted to wake him, but based off of their interaction earlier she thought better of it. Resigning to her pining, she went to the wardrobe for a nightdress and to put away the stockings.

When she opened the drawer, Rayla found it had been ransacked; everything was unfolded and mixed up. The other drawers and cabinet were more of the same. The bile burned and bubbled up into her throat again. Her skin crawled. Her things were contaminated, she felt contaminated. It hadn’t just been the nightgown or the stockings. Mere hours ago, Claudia’s hands had been on even more of Rayla’s things. It was clear she had rifled around with a purpose. With the goal of fucking her husband. Rayla looked around the room, Claudia had been in their apartment and their bed. She’s fucked him in their bed. There was an urge to burn it, send it all up in flames like she’d done with the nightgown. Because that's what fire did, what the arcanum was all about. Purification. But arson was, if nothing else, impractical.

She shoved the stockings to the back and grabbed a linen shift from the top of the pile. Rayla narrowly resisted the urge to slam the drawer shut. She didn’t want to wake Callum. She settled on dropping the red and gold dress she’d been wearing on the floor and kicking it. She scowled at the unsatisfying distance it tumbled. Rayla pulled the shift over her head as she walked to the mirror and when her head passed through the neck, she saw how tired she looked. Her hair was still pinned into a partial updo but she’d nervously fiddled and ruined it. She sighed and removed the remaining pins and then reached for her hairbrush. She froze with it halfway to her head. A partially black hair was stuck in the bristles. She glanced at the sleeping lump in the bed and pushed a forceful exhale through her nostrils, part of an internal scream. She went back to the dress on the floor and kicked it again, and wondered what the sick bitch hadn’t touched.

Rayla was repulsed, nauseated, and furious. She hated this feeling of violation. Her most personal things had been defiled and used against her. A breeze came through the open doors. She crossed her arms and wished it could blow away the unsettling discomfort. Then she turned and looked at Callum… really looked at him.

He had cried himself to sleep. His usually peaceful face was sad and the pillow was still wet. Claudia had done this to him, made him cry.

Then the room fell away and a frenzy of thoughts cycloned around her.

When she entered the apartment, he’d been crying. He’d been crying out for her to stop.

Rayla’s stomach dropped.

Soren words rung in her ear. “She’s killed people but… doing this to Callum… I’m disgusted by her.”

She could feel acid bubble into her throat.

This wasn’t adultery, this was something else. This was… Soren knew, why hadn’t she?

How had she been so stupid? How had she not understood? Would he still have sent her away if she hadn’t been so dense?

She felt tears start to roll down her cheeks as she looked down at his sad sleeping face, she now had tears to match his.

He wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t look at her. Because she, Claudia, had looked like her.

That was why he’d sent her away.

She covered her mouth to silence the sobs. She felt a burn in her right shoulder.

She hadn’t just worn Rayla’s clothes, Claudia wore her face. It wasn’t just her belongings that had been violated, it was him, he had been violated.

The cyclone was closing in on her, Rayla was going to drown in it. In all of this.

She rushed to escape the room, and closed the balcony door behind her just in time for the heaving sobs to break. Her stomach was turning and she thought she would be sick.

From the moment she saw them, she pulled off that illusion, Rayla has been angry. It was reliable for her. Made her feel strong, made her protective of him. Let her take care of him. But that was a lie, she hadn’t protected him, she read it wrong or missed the point and that was the reason and she hadn’t taken better care of him. Like she should have. She wasn’t even sure what she should have done differently but she knew it should have been more or better.

She clutched her shoulder with one hand and the railing with the other. The cyclone of sadness, rage, and disgust were growing into a hurricane. She hated Claudia and that hate burned in her. She hated herself for not taking better care of him. She rolled her shoulder.

Rayla had left behind her life as an assassin long ago. Killing in battle was one thing, but she never wanted to take lives in cold blood. But this… this was provoked and boiled her blood. She realized she could do it now, she could take her blades and go to the dungeons, go to Claudia's cell. She could slit her throat. She could cut her neck to the bone if she wanted to. Rayla sobbed.

She felt the phantom pain in her healed shoulder. It was like the tendons were being ripped all over again. Snapping one by one. On the cool stones of the balcony, she was reliving the worst pain she had ever known. The pain Claudia had inflicted the day she held Rayla to the ground and contorted her limbs with dark magic. If Callum hadn’t stopped her, Claudia would have ripped Rayla’s arm off completely. But now it wasn’t her arm that would be severed, it was the beating heart from her chest. She wondered if it would make the same sound leaving her rib cage as her arm had from the joint. POP, ringing in her ear. Rayla kept trying to breathe while she let herself cry.

After what felt like hours she got up and went to bed. She kissed Callum on the forehead gently, she wondered if he heard her crying. She curled up with her pillow to her chest on her cold empty side of the bed. She wiped away a few silent tears as she fell asleep. They hadn’t slept apart, without holding each other, since… she couldn’t remember.

14 notes · View notes

doctordisaster · 4 years

Text

Okay, so about the space movie: it is not good. I haven’t come out of a star war feeling this disappointed since the prequels. It’s worse than revenge of the sith. I think it must be better than phantom menace, but I’m not sure. That’s how bad it is: I’d need to rewatch the worst installment in the series to confidently rank the newest.

I’ve seen some people say they enjoyed it in the theater but liked it less the more they thought about it — which was more or less my experience with Solo. That was not my experience this time. I was numbed, bored, or annoyed for most of the movie’s runtime. There are a few good moments, but it is by and large just not fun to watch.

It also appears to have been plotted by an angry mob of reddit incels. Bad fan theories, unwanted redemption arcs, and pointless throwbacks rule the day. Assholes drove Kelly Marie Tran off of Twitter; JJ Abrams drove Kelly Marie Tran out of Star Wars. Every moment of character development from the previous film was actively and loudly reversed. As a matter of fact, every status quo change in this very film was reversed, usually within seconds of screen time. At every point at which the movie ought to have turned right, it turned left.

Below the cut I’m going to list things I liked and things I didn’t. Don’t read it if you want to be surprised by the movie's disappointments live in the theater.

Good things in space movie no. 9:

The little goblin who works on droids is cute

Lando’s scenes are all very nice

Chewie trying to hide in a crowd was funny

Wedge! I love Wedge!

I loved the design of Kylo Ren’s space office

The moment where literally every spaceship that has ever been in a star war shows up. Also the moment where literally every person who has ever played a Jedi speaks a line. These are each a nice gimmick, although I am not sure both should have been used, and certainly not that close together.

I like the moment where Poe and The Female Person Poe Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Past have a whole conversation just with their facial expressions. It’s especially impressive because The Female Person Poe Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Past is wearing a metal helmet that entirely conceals her face.

The scene where Finn and The Female Person Finn Is Going To Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Future bond over the shared elements of their history was very nice.

The scene where force ghost Luke explains that he was wrong to isolate himself from the universe is nowhere near as good as any of Luke and Rey’s scenes in TLJ, but it’s definitely necessary considering how confused some fans seemed to be on this point.

Some of the banter between the main three is quite fun

The scene of young Leia and Luke doing Jedi stuff is lovely and I wanted more of it.

Bad things in movie 9 from outer space:

Everything about Palpatine. Bringing him back is stupid. His plan is stupid. His inexplicable motivations are stupid. The fact that he has apparently just been sitting on his ass for 40 years is really stupid. Not explaining how he survived being thrown down a bottomless pit, exploding, and then the station he was on also exploding is extremely stupid.

Speaking of stupid, Rey Palpatine is the single worst idea that has ever been in any of these films. One of the most obnoxious things about JJ Abrams “mystery boxes” is that the mystery he deems the holy grail of box mysteries and buries deep deep down at the bottom of the mystery box is consistently something obvious and bad and not even slightly clever. There were literally two dumb fan theories for Rey’s parentage — Kenobi and Palpatine — and Palpatine was the one that was dumber.

It’s worse than midiclorians, because now Palpy fucks. Palpy canonically fucks.

Gross.

The only potentially good thing about bringing back Palpy is getting to enjoy Ian McDiarmid’s gloriously campy performance again, but for some goddamn reason they trap him on an empty soundstage lit only by strobes, then color grade everything to pure gray so you can’t fucking see what’s going on.

I get that it’s supposed to be the heart of evil and darkness, but good production design can evoke that without making it impossible to see the actors and unpleasant to look at the frame

Speaking of which, how is this movie so ugly??? There are maybe three visually nice locations and everything else is just hideous. This is a complaint I’d never even consider leveling at a previous star war. Even the shittiest ones were beautiful to look at.

Every Star Destroyer has an onboard death star superlaser now. I started by booing, saw that the superlasers are just a metal cock and balls, and then laughed my ass off through the rest of the supposedly serious scene where it blows up a planet.

The way you kill a star destroyer now is you shoot it in its dick

The only people who will be pleased by this movie are Reylo shippers and that is a horrible thing to be true

The macguffin chase that constitutes the first two thirds of this movie is pointless and boring. I especially loved the multiple times when someone lost a macguffin only to go “oh I forgot I have a spare in the glovebox”

Can we even list all the times something supposedly momentous happened only to be reversed moments later?

chewie dies! wait it was somehow the wrong ship even though they were in the middle of a literal fucking desert and there was no other ship around

The Female Person Poe Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Past just got obliterated along with her entire planet by a different penis, this one attached to a star destroyer! oh wait she didn’t. no explanation she just didn’t die.

also the droid gremlin is with her

hux turned spy for the resist— oh wait he’s dead

Rey killed Kylo! But she feels bad so she heals him back

Palpatine just killed Kylo! Oh wait he didn’t. No explanation he just didn’t die, because JJ needed him to immediately reverse another supposedly momentous death.

Kylo smashed the macguffin! we’re doomed oh wait glovebox

Palpatine just electrocuted the entire rebel fleet to death! oh they got better

There’s absolutely no way to get across these waves! Oh wait Rey just... went across them

Well maybe it’s because she has the force and was able to oh wait Finn just went across them too

Well maybe that’s because The Female Person Finn Is Going To Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Future is such an expert at navigating the oh wait Kylo is there as well

If only this movie took place in a universe with vehicles that do not touch the ground, we could have skipped this entire stupid subplot

3po makes a massive sacrifice by allowing his memory to be wiped! oh wait he had a backup

I also hate that 3po’s memory wipe is treated, before it happens, with pathos and gravitas, and then the moment he actually loses everything about his life and all his friends, it’s IMMEDIATELY treated as a joke

I love the way Rey is briefly dead but then Kylo goes “oh no!” and uses the last of his life force to bring her back. I wanted her to go “oh no!” and then use the last of her life force to bring him back. And then he’d go “oh no!” and use the last of his life force to

When the emperor dies, they show a montage of star destroyers blowing up elsewhere in the galaxy. Including one over endor? Why did they have a star destroyer over endor. How did the ewoks blow it up? Did they tie a log to one of the other moons and another log to another other moon and then cut the vines and the logs went smoosh

At the start of the movie Palpy promises Kylo his throne and limitless power in exchange for the one thing he wants most desperately in the world, which is for Rey to be dead. Then Rey shows up and Palpy goes “ah good you are here, I need you to kill me so my spirit can transfer to you” as though these demands aren’t utterly contradictory on every level. Then when she refuses he’s like “oh well, I suppose I can suck your and Kylo’s life forces out and rejuvenate myself to rule anew” as though that isn’t vastly preferable to plans A and B from his perspective

why is he in this movie

Having the knights of ren in this movie really justifies Rian Johnson’s choice not to have them in TLJ.

Every time the knights of ren appear, the timpanist bangs out the music cue for the sand people, so I think John Williams just decided that they ARE sand people in different hats.

Remember the eerie moment in TLJ where Rey and Kylo were connected across a vast distance through the force and Rey was in a monsoon and when the connection closed Kylo found some raindrops on his glove? Remember when Luke used a similar ability, without any physical transference, and the strain was so great that it ended his life? Now do you remember when TROS turned that into a totally mundane effortless 3d fax machine so they could pass necklaces and macguffins and lightsabers back and forth constantly, and even have whole physically real saber duels even though the script was too lazy to put them in the same place? Hey that fucking sucked

Remember Rose Tico? JJ doesn’t

The scene of Poe “micro-jumping” the Falcon is awful on so many levels. First of all, it’s just a one-off joke from Guardians of the Galaxy, but played straight for some reason. Second, changing the setting of the chase every few seconds makes the action just as numbing and impossible to follow as Michael Bay’s worst. Third, it makes no sense that the TIEs are following them through the microjumps, and the fact that they can do so makes the microjumps completely pointless. Why are you even microjumping if they can just follow you? Then the characters spend several scenes going on and on about what a big deal microjumps are, only for no one to ever do it or refer to it again.

Rey asks “what was snoke’s deal,” as though reading off a card with questions from our most obnoxious audience members, and Palpy goes “Snoke was my creation” which makes sense, like he trained the guy and equipped him and pulled his strings from the shadows and no, wait, the camera is panning over to a literal Jar O’ Snokes that Palpy just has handy in his empty strobelit soundstage.

I wish the camera had kept panning to show a Jar O’ Phasmas and a Jar O’ Huxes and maybe a Jar O’ Unkar Plutts so that all the characters from TFA could have an Offically Explained Back Story

If he put all the jars in another jar he could have a Jar Jar and the circle would be complete

I liked the part where they were having a lightsaber duel on a pier and the swings got slower and slower and finally they stopped and just kind of stared at each other like “wtf is even the point of this” because that was exactly how I felt at that moment.

tbh that was exactly how I felt for most of the movie

47 notes · View notes

catsarma · 5 years

Text

The Huntress Mask Process

—

Hey! Ok so first off I got this mask for a dollar at Walmart before Halloween.

And then I cut off the bottom in the shape of Anna’s mask.

You can find a cheap mask like this or just fuckin paper mache your face if you want. Google it lol

I tried covering it in clay to make it, but it was brittle and wouldn’t stick to the plastic, so I covered it in paper mache first (I just did water and flour but go nuts).

You could probably do the whole thing with clay if you had some that was lightweight and not so brittle, like model magic maybe? Anyway.

I used cardboard to make the top of the mask go up further by just cutting out a sort of crescent moon shape and gluing it onto the top edge of the mask.

I used cardboard to fill in the nose where I was gonna use clay later.

I also used cardboard for the ears by gluing two thin layers together and sticking them on the mask.

I covered everything, front and back, with a layer of paper mache.

I used crayola air dry clay to form the nose, blending the edges out into the paper mache and then also putting paper mache over the edges once it was all dry.

I rolled up small pieces of newspaper to make the ridge on the ears, stuck it on, then put more paper mache over it.

I put a layer of mod podge over the newspaper, but honestly I didn’t like painting over it and you could just use the paper mache as a base.

Then paint!

The yellow spots here are wood glue. I used it to fill in some dips and stuff in the mask I didn’t like. It says it’s sandable, but I had a hard time with it, so I just smooshed it in as smoothly as I could. Make sure if you do this to prop it up to dry in a way where the filler/glue won’t drip.

I also used an exacto blade/box cutter to rough up the edges to make it look worn and uneven, especially on the side where Anna’s scar is. Look at reference photos!

Then it’s just weathering and painting! You can see that my eyes were a bit uneven, so I tried to paint it to balance it out a bit.

I cut long, thin pieces of paint and paper out and put dark paint in them to rough it up some. I made it look dirty by using super watered down dark brown paint. The blood is red and brown paint I splattered on it.

I used the elastic that came with the original mask and the veil was just some lace fabric I ripped off of a witch hat I had, but it’s not final.

I think that’s it! Happy crafting!!

#dead by daylight #dbd #the huntress #huntress #cosplay tutorial #dead by daylight cosplay #mine #crafts

3K notes · View notes

tenspontaneite · 5 years

Text

Peace Is A Journey (Chapter 4/?)

In which two human princes enjoy water, and Rayla is Not Amused.

(Chapter length: 11k. Ao3 link)

Rayla did not sleep well that night.

She discovered, probably no more than an hour after she had finally managed to fall asleep, that Ezran had been half-right about Prince Callum: he did not kick too badly in his sleep. But he did sprawl, which was almost as bad, and did occasionally lead to its fair share of kicking. Every time one of his legs pushed its way obliviously into her side of the tent, or he ended up on his back with one arm landing on his brother and one on her, she awoke instantly, on-alert and hands going instinctively for weapons she wasn’t wearing. But it wasn’t an attacker in the night. It was just…humans. Humans who didn’t keep their limbs to themselves while they slept. Ugh.

The first few times, she kicked or elfhandled him back into his rightful place, becoming more and more bad-tempered about it as the night went on; especially given he didn’t even have the decency to wake up and be ashamed of commandeering everyone’s space. When it had grown late enough that the pull of the moon on her bones was starting to ebb, she gave serious thought to the idea of just getting up and sleeping outside, where no one was likely to put legs over hers or deposit arms over her side. In the end, she gave a loud and very grumpy sigh to the night air, and just…resolved to ignore it. So what if the human was taking up three times his designated space in the tent? She could just…ignore it. Maybe. With practice.

She did have a moment of somewhat vindictive satisfaction when, not far from dawn, Callum’s arm made the mistake of sprawling not only onto her, but onto her head. Which was facing away from him. And, therefore, was presenting him with the pointy end of her horns. He jolted awake with a yelp, mumbled something surprised and incoherent, and then promptly rolled over and fell back asleep again. Honestly.

Rayla gave up on the whole sleep thing sometime after dawn came, peeling herself quietly from the tent and extracting smooshed daisies from her hair as she went.

At the very least, a full night of disturbed sleep had served her better than a two-hour power nap. She felt tired, and ill-tempered, but slightly more like a functional elf than she had the day before.

She sat quietly in front of the extinguished campfire, watching the dawn colours spreading in the sky, trees rustling in what was shaping up to be quite a breezy day. She took the time to, very carefully, stretch and rotate the wrist and fingers of her bound hand, which was starting to swell unhappily, and was going a purplish colour around the bind. It hurt when she pressed her fingers against it, sore like a bruise, and went white and pale under the pressure of her fingertips. When she took the fingers away, the purplish colour swiftly returned. Uncertain whether it would help or not, she tried to massage some feeling into it, but it didn’t really seem to do anything except momentarily blanche its colour.

Rayla stared down at her hand, and wondered how long it would still be there.

She wondered how long she could hide it from the boys. It would probably be hard to avoid noticing if your travelling companion’s hand went purple and stopped working, right? The hand falling off – that would be impossible to conceal. She should…probably talk about it. That would be a sensible thing to do. They had a long journey ahead of them and she likely shouldn’t expect to have two hands for more than a couple weeks of it, if this kept up. They should know about that. They should know she had a limited time left to be fully effective.

But…

She’d have to tell them what the binding was for. She’d have to tell them that she remained, even now, bound by oath and magic to kill Ezran. And while she knew full well she’d much rather lose a hand than kill him…would they know that? Ezran had an unusual amount of faith in her, maybe, but Callum was less trusting. Would he doubt her?

…Would he ask about the second bind?

If he remembered that she’d had two ribbons, when they met – if Ezran remembered – she shivered, dread curling in her throat at that, more than anything else. Callum very obviously had an excellent memory for things he saw; expecting him to overlook the second one was foolish at absolute best.

How could she possibly tell them that their father was dead? That he was dead, and her people had been responsible for it? She’d hardly known them a few days, but even so – how was she supposed to find the words for something like this? It would hurt them so badly. She knew it would. Stars, but she didn’t want to do it.

She exhaled, heavily, and allowed herself a minute or so more to wallow in dread and uncertainty. But no more than that. There was work to be done, after all.

Callum woke up before Ezran did, about an hour after Rayla had got herself up. It was good timing on his part, as she’d been considering going to wake them up soon, since she’d finished dismantling the campfire and clearing up after their dinner, and pretty much all that was left to do in the camp either involved her leaving to find food or waking the princes up so the tent could be packed.

She listened, half-attentive, to the sounds of shifting inside the tent, the elder prince yawning and muttering something that she couldn’t hear from this range. She wondered if he’d wake up his brother. In the end, all he did was stumble out of the tent, half tripping over the bags he’d apparently forgotten were there.

He had also fallen asleep in his flower crown, and had bits of it streaked through his hair. She huffed at him in amusement, and he finally seemed to notice her, half-way through pulling his boots on.

“Oh, morning, Rayla.” He greeted cheerfully, if a little awkwardly, and walked up to where she’d been sitting, settling onto the grass beside her. “Didn’t see you there for a second.”

She refrained from making a comment on his situational awareness and nodded back to him in greeting. “I’ve been up a while.” She said, in sort-of explanation, and then side-eyed him a little narrowly. “…Sleep alright?”

“Yeah, actually, being in a tent really helped.” He answered, apparently entirely oblivious to his own night-time restlessness, and didn’t seem to notice her half-glare at all. “How about you?”

She snorted. “Oh, yeah, I slept great.”

“So…you didn’t sleep well?” he squinted at her.

Rayla crossed her arms. “Whatever would give you that impression, Callum?” She wasn’t actually annoyed with him, really, just a bit…grumpy. Just a wee bit ornery. She felt it was only right that he be aware of it.

He huffed, half-amused, half-concerned. “You realise that I speak Sarcasm, right?”

“How wonderful for you!” She said, clasping her hands as if duly impressed.

“Yes, actually, it is. So?” He prodded, raising his eyebrows at her. “Did something wake you up?”

“You could say that.” Rayla agreed, and he just waited, staring her down expectantly, until she elaborated: “You move a lot in your sleep.” It was satisfying to watch his composure immediately vanish, a light flush rising in his cheeks, a stammer blooming in his voice.

“O-oh really?” He squeaked, suddenly looking every part the teenage boy who’d been reminded he’d been sleeping next to a teenage…elf. “Er. Sorry?”

His reaction easily alleviated the prickle of her temper, and Rayla felt her good humour returning to her. He was funny to fluster and surprise, this one. She snickered, and reached out to pat him consolingly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure you hit yourself on my horns at one point, so I think I probably got even.”

Callum’s brows furrowed, and he raised a hand to press thoughtfully at two points on his arm, close to the elbow, one on the upper arm and one on the forearm. “I did wonder where these bruises came from.” He said ruefully, still a little pink. “Uh, we can try putting Ez in the middle tonight, maybe? Maybe he’s not as bad a kicker as he used to be.”

“You two are such stupidly heavy sleepers.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’ll see how I get on tonight, and then consider changing things up. For now, we need to work on getting going for the day. I was going to go find some food, but wanted to wait for one of you to wake up first.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Callum looked glad enough to leave the uncomfortable subject of his sleeper’s conduct behind, and chuckled nervously. “I am pretty hungry. Er, should I wake Ez?”

She considered him for a second. Considered talking to him. Considered talking about…difficult things. Things she really didn’t want to talk about. In the end, she couldn’t even think of making the words pass her lips, so she sighed, and looked away.

But there was something else to talk about. Something that had been nagging at her. Something that was easier than life and death and the binds that tied her to their taking. “I wanted to talk to you about food.” She announced, abruptly, because they were days into this journey now and the closest thing to a varied diet they’d had was a bit of greenery.

He blinked, startled. “Oh. Okay?”

She turned more fully to face him, leaning back on one hand. The non-swelling, non-bound one, of course. “Look. We’ve been eating nothing but fruit for days – and a couple of leaves last night, I guess. I don’t know much about humans. Are you meant to only eat fruit? Is that….healthy for you? I got the impression – from what you said – that it’s not, but….what do I know?” Her face settled into something that felt like a confused frown, which was an accurate enough picture of her feelings on the matter.

“Uh….no. No, we’re definitely meant to eat more than fruit.” Callum admitted, after a few more seconds of being surprised at the subject. His shoulders settled a little as he, almost visibly, got himself into thinking-mode. “Normally, at the castle? We eat – bread. Vegetables. Fruit, too. Sweet things.” He sat for a second, clearly thinking through a list. “Eggs? Yeah, eggs. Milk and cheese. Meat, for most of us. Ez doesn’t eat meat a lot.”

Rayla nodded slowly at him, a little concerned. “And…do you need all of that? Or just some of it? Because that sounds pretty much like the things elves eat, but for us, some of it’s more important than other parts.”

“I’m pretty sure some of it’s more important for humans too, but I don’t know a lot about that.” Callum admitted, and leaned forwards, concentrating. “Uh…parents always tell their kids to eat their vegetables? So that’s probably important. Bread is filling? And people always seem to say you should be eating meat when you’re exercising?”

Rayla, who had been raised on fairly strict dietary regimens to accompany her training, thought this sounded quite elf-like, on the whole, although they naturally didn’t have such a fixation with bread. “Meat is good if you’re building muscle or just being active.” She informed him, feeling a little better about the conversation now she’d been reassured that meat was a regular and normal thing that humans ate, and she wouldn’t get accused of being unusually bloodthirsty for endorsing it. She considered how to continue, and in the end just went for it. “I can hunt, and prepare meat. I’m used to it – I’ve been helping with it for months – so it’s easy. We can forage for berries and edible plants, but I’d feel a lot better about things if we were eating meat as well.”

Callum watched her for several seconds, brows lowering into a troubled frown. “Honestly, so would I. And not just because it tastes better than random forest green-stuff.” he said, after a second. “But – I mean, he doesn’t completely refuse it, especially if it’s a special occasion…but Ezran prefers not to eat meat. He…gets along well with animals, I guess. Doesn’t want to eat them.” He fidgeted with the tail of his scarf. “I think he’d be alright with you hunting for us, and eating meat, but I’m not sure. He’s never had to eat it if he doesn’t want to.”

She hummed, pensive. “Well, I’m not going to force him either, duh. But it would be better for him. There’s things you can replace meat with, but not much we can forage from random wilderness as we go.” She shrugged, and raised her hands outwards, in a sort of helpless what can you do sort of gesture. “Maybe you can talk to him over the next couple days? Living on a berry-and-leaves diet is okay if it’s only for a week or two, but we’ve got a lot longer than that to go. I don’t want anyone getting sick.”

He rubbed the back of his neck under the scarf, as if it itched. “Yeah, I definitely can’t let my little brother get all…malnourished. Aunt Amaya would kill me. Dad would kill me.”

Rayla winced a little at that. “…Yeah, let’s avoid that.” She agreed, and stood, stretching out her shoulders. “On that note, I’d best go looking for some breakfast. Maybe you should wake up Ez.” She picked up the food jars and the cooking pot, painstakingly rinsed in the detestable water of the river, and waited for Callum to get up.

“Should we try putting away the tent while you’re gone?” he asked, coming to a stand next to her. He still had squished daisies in his hair.

She considered him for a second, and shook her head. “Not the first time. You’d probably make a mess of it alone. Wait for me to get back and I’ll walk you through it.” After brief hesitation, she reached out and plucked one of the flowers from his hair, presenting it to him. “You should maybe use the hairbrush while I’m gone, though.” She offered a teasing smile.

He returned it, charmingly sheepish, but only for a second. Then he frowned. “Rayla, why is your hand going purple?”

She snatched it back in a hurry, posture going stiff. “….Slept on it funny,” She lied, badly, shuffling some of the jars over to it to help conceal its condition. “Don’t you worry, it’s – normal.” She turned tail and strode for the tent, heart beating with mild panic at the idea he might call her on her highly transparent excuse.

He didn’t, in the end, but she could practically feel the scepticism radiating off of him in waves. “…If you say so.” He said, at last, easy-going, and walked over with her.

She bent to shove the cooking pot into her bag, retrieving the hairbrush for Callum while she was at it, while he crawled into the inner tent with his boots held carefully outside, and shook his brother by the foot. Bait grumbled at them as Ezran stirred, and Rayla considered if there was anything else she should take to go foraging. Should she take a bag, just in case she found something bigger that was worth taking, like a patch of mushrooms?

“Morning, Ez.” Callum said, from next to her, a smile in his voice. “You doing okay?”

“Mm, yeah.” She heard a yawn, and a vaguely intelligible murmur. “Slept good.” Well, Rayla was the odd one out, then. What a surprise.

She poked her head in to greet him, wearing a smile of her own. “Morning, Ez.” She echoed his brother, and he smiled sleepily at her.

“Hi, Rayla.” He said, and yawned again. “I had another weird dream.” He expressed, rubbing his eyes. He shifted the dragon egg more solidly into his lap and yawned.

“Was it the hippo with taffy ears again?” Callum asked, grinning a little as Rayla withdrew to prepare to leave.

“No. It was different this time.” He answered, eyes oddly faraway. “I was somewhere....small. And dark. And safe. And there was a voice whispering something to me. My name? Except it wasn’t my name, it was....” he frowned. “I can’t remember.” He raised this hands to rub at his eyes, still squinting, as if trying to uncover the detail of his dream from the edges of the tent.

“I’m off to get breakfast.” Rayla informed them both, and nodded at their farewells as she turned off.

First camps always took a while; both to set up and to take down. But this was really an uncomfortable amount of delay, so she’d have to do her best to be quick.

Callum was honestly feeling pretty good that morning. He’d slept well – even if, apparently, he’d been a difficult tent-mate in the process – hadn’t walked enough the previous day to be achy, and today was probably going to just be some more easy boat-riding. Sure, Rayla probably wouldn’t enjoy the boat part at all, which was unfortunate, and she was hiding something about her hand – but he felt fairly optimistic as he and Ez packed up their stuff and waited for Rayla to get back. And then got bored waiting for Rayla to get back. And then – well, look, maybe it hadn’t been an entirely smart idea to try using the one half of Claudia’s lightning spell he remembered when he didn’t know how spells worked, but-

The point was, he’d been optimistic enough on waking that it really just figured he’d have a magic mishap before they’d even left the campsite. Because the universe just loved to punish optimism, apparently.

The next few hours didn’t really get any more fortunate. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Having called Rayla back from gathering early with his lightning-related difficulties, breakfast was decidedly light that day, and Rayla herself seemed pretty cranky as she directed he and Ez through the procedure of packing the tent away. It was late morning by the time they were ready to leave, piling their things into the boat, and Rayla staring at the boat like she’d rather swallow a live spider than go anywhere near it.

She did, though. As soon as she noticed him watching, in fact.

He and Ez teamed up to try to distract her from the water. Callum regaled her with the origins of Bait’s name. Ezran cajoled her into a word-association game. She didn’t seem especially enthusiastic about any of it, too occupied with trying not to lose her meagre breakfast, but, well. Any enthusiasm she had mustered was promptly extinguished when Callum put his foot in what had been a perfectly pleasant round of questions…by accidentally bringing up dead parents. So that was awkward. And she was unwilling enough to engage after that that he just sort of…left her to it, and went to paddle a bit at the front of the boat.

A couple hours down the river, Callum realised that, perhaps, the maps he’d partially-memorised in his lessons were not designed for people travelling along them in rowboats. Namely, because the river had transformed into rapids, and looked to be approaching at least one waterfall, and-

Needless to say, the two waterfalls, a capsized boat, a lake monster, a thoroughly terrifying dip in the same water that the lake monster occupied, and a narrow-escape from the lake monster…all added up to a less-than-pleasant experience. Even if it did conclude in a surprisingly illuminating heartfelt conversation about fear, and bravery, and the weight that Rayla’s parents had put on her shoulders when they fled their duty.

By mutual decision, they stopped by the shore of Lake Kalsa for a break after that, as everything they owned had been doused in lakewater. Rayla went off to look for lunch, with Callum and Ezran deputised to help get their stuff a bit less waterlogged. So they pulled the boat over, thankful that they’d stored the bags under the seats where they’d been prevented from falling out, and pulled everything onto shore.

“The tent is completely soaked.” Ezran said, making a face, as he opened the pack they’d meticulously stored just a few hours ago. “No way is this going to be dry in time for tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to sleep out in the open for a night.” Callum shrugged, raising his hand briefly. “At least it’s windy today. Maybe if we hang it all up wherever we camp, it’ll be dry by morning.”

“Yeah, but it being windy means we’ll be cold tonight.” He sighed, putting the tent aside. “Let’s just try to dry off the other stuff. Like the towel. It seems weird for a thing that’s meant to dry things to be full of water.”

“We should at least try to squeeze out the tent a bit. So it’s not completely soaking.” He countered, and waved his brother over. “I’ll work on the tent, okay? You get all the other stuff out.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ezran agreed, and they set themselves to work.

Rayla returned probably half an hour later, with jars absolutely packed full of Moonberries and…some other sort of berry he wasn’t completely familiar with. Looked sort of like miniature blackberries. Ezran abandoned his bag immediately to make a beeline for one jar, Bait hopping eagerly at his heels. “How’s it going?” She asked, setting the jars down, and holding a hand – the going-purple one – up to feel at the inner-tent he’d hung on a tree branch. She grimaced. “…Well, that’s not going to dry for a while.”

“We’ve got everything laid out now….though maybe we went a bit overboard.” Callum said, eyeing her hand for a few seconds. She caught his eye, followed his gaze, and quickly snatched her hand back, breaking eye contact in a second. Because that wasn’t suspicious at all. He didn’t say anything, but made a face at her. “…It’ll take a while to pack everything up again.” He elaborated, after a second, and went over to investigate the lunch possibilities, sitting down next to Ezran.

“I was thinking about that, actually.” Rayla said, a little too-brightly, as if trying to brush past the issue of whatever it was she was hiding. “You said the lake town sits on a major road, right? How long do you suppose it would take us to get to that road?”

“Er.” Callum stopped, reached for his mercifully-waterproof book, and flipped through the wet pages carefully to the map. “If we try to go along the Lune a bit longer, and then get off the boat and walk…probably around three to six hours ish?” He made an uncertain noise. “I’m not great at judging the distances yet. If we left from here and walked to the road, we could probably get there in…four hours? I think? Maybe?”

“Hmm.” Rayla inspected his map, weird hand tucked somewhat conspicuously behind her back.

“What are you thinking?” Ez asked, words a bit mushy and slurred around his mouthful of mystery berries.

“I’m thinking…” She sat back, thoughtful. “…that if we keep going today, we’ll have to camp close to the road, since we need to cross over that road a safe distance from any towns. And I really don’t want to camp close to that road.”

Ezran blinked curiously at her. “Because Aunt Amaya might be coming through?”

“Or any other humans going close to the roads.” Rayla pointed out. “But…yes. Mostly your Aunt Amaya.” She clearly hadn’t gotten over the General Aunt Amaya thing yet. “I don’t like the delay, but after all that mess with the lake monster – I was thinking we could just stop here for the day. Unless you think there’ll be people here later?”

“Nah, Lake Kalsa is up-river from Kalsanis, and too far to walk to in less than half a day, I think.” Callum put his book aside, left open, to allow it to dry a little. “I guess it’s possible people could show up, but it would be kinda weird.”

Rayla considered it for a good while, eyes narrowed. She considered it for long enough, in fact, that Callum decided to get started on lunch, picking out one of the mystery berries to sniff at it. It did not smell like a blackberry, but smelled good enough.

“What are these called, anyway?”

“Hm? Oh, the fruit. Mulberries.” She answered, half on automatic, and looked up, sighing. “Yeah, I think we’ll risk staying here. See if we can get some stuff done, if we’re going to waste an afternoon.”

Callum, his mouth full of berries, waved at her with a sort of circular motion to continue. For a half-second he wished she knew sign, to make this very brief second of his life easier to communicate in.

She squinted dubiously at him but seemed to pick up his meaning. “We need to get the stuff dry, to start with.” She said, waving her hands at the many things currently hanging on trees. “You could try using your wind breath spell on them, maybe. Get the magic out of your system so you don’t electrocute anything else today.”

He swallowed his mouthful, holding up a finger to maintain a pause, then said “today’s second electrocution went very well, in my opinion. But yes! Magic sounds good!” Any excuse to practice magic was a good one, as far as he was concerned. “Anything else?”

Rayla hesitated. Just for a second, but it was enough to make him tilt his head, curious and a little more alert. “…Well, that big lake monster wasn’t the only thing you shocked. Have you looked at the water lately?”

Ez turned to look first, Callum not far behind him. “Uh.”

“Are those fish?” Ezran asked, squinting at the same small floating shapes on the lake’s surface that Callum was staring at. “Callum, did you zap the whole lake?”

“It’s lightning! In water! It kind of – does that!” he defended, crossing his arms. “It was necessary!”

“And, it might have got us dinner.” Rayla pointed out. “I wouldn’t want to try eating the lake monster, maybe, but there’s got to be some dead fish out there worth eating.” She hesitated again, and this time Callum understood why. “…if you don’t mind, I don’t really want to be the one who fetches those dead fish, if you catch my drift.”

“Ohhh, yeah, I guess you probably don’t like water any more than before, after all that.” Ez said wisely, nodding, and turned his head to the lake again, a hint of his planning-things look coming onto his face. Callum watched it warily. Sometimes, when Ezran looked like that, it was something perfectly benign. Other times, it ended with innocent older brothers having to pick crumbs out of their bed and clothing for weeks.

“That would be an understatement.” Rayla said, while Callum was still waiting for Ezran to do something, since he was clearly thinking of something.

“…Good job it’s not too cold today!” Ez declared, after a second, the spark in his eye turned into solid cheer. “Callum, we should go for a swim!”

Oh. Well, that was a whole lot less mischief than Callum had worried about. He’d been half-concerned that Ezran was going to challenge him to a fish-fight, or something. He inspected the water, trying to recall the temperature of it. It had been a shock to fall in after being in the boat for hours, but…it was spring, and these were the Katolis lowlands. The temperature was pretty mild. “Sounds good.” He decided, rising to his feet. “C’mon Ez, we should go now, so we’ll dry off faster.” He pulled off his scarf, still-drying, and laid it out next to the rest of the still-drying things.

Rayla rose up next to him, both hands up as if to forestall his movement, looking suddenly very alarmed. “Wait, you’re going to swim? I just meant – you should go out with the boat!” Had her hand been that purple this morning?

“…That would get us less soaked, true.” Callum allowed, after a moment, feeling vaguely put-out. Rayla’s shoulders relaxed a little with relief, hands dropping.

Ezran, however, was unmoved. “Well, you can take the boat if you want, Callum, but I wanna swim. It’s a nice day and a nice lake.” Rayla’s borderline-panic instantly returned.

“You want to go swimming in a lake that had a giant fish monster in it?” She demanded, incredulous, rearing back as if she thought his brother’s insanity might be contagious. “That seems like a good way to get eaten!”

“No way a lake this small has more than one giant monster in it. Giant monsters like their space, you know.” Ezran told her, not even remotely concerned, and stood, sweeping grass from his pants. “Callum, are you taking the boat? If you are, I can just throw you fish.”

He hesitated. “You can rest if you get tired, too, I guess, if the boat is there.” He allowed, after a second. He, too, didn’t think it was likely they’d find another lake monster in residence. Kalsa wasn’t especially big, after all. “I might like to go for a swim though, if we’re going to be here all day. It’s not like we’ll have much time for that sort of thing once we start walking.”

Rayla stared at them, a little open-mouthed, as if in complete disbelief. She couldn’t seem to find the words to object for several seconds, then finally managed it. “So you’re going to go swimming. Because you think it’s fun. On the off-chance that giant lake monsters don’t come in groups.” She summarised, her eyes wide with apprehension, and voice a little higher than was usual for her.

“Sounds about right.” Callum agreed, after a moment, offering a smile. “Relax. It’ll be fine. We’re both decent swimmers, and we’ll have the boat there in case any more monsters show up.”

“And I am very confident that there’s no more lake monsters.” Ezran added.

Callum blinked, but decided to go with it. “See, he’s very confident that there’s no more monsters.”

“And you’re an expert on giant lake monsters now, are you?” Rayla demanded, folding her arms, the initial panic and disbelief now steadily giving way to an expression that…actually looked kind of worried. Aw, he didn’t want to actually worry or scare her, that wasn’t good.

“Pretty much.” Ez said cheerfully, glancing up at a nearby tree. Callum followed his gaze, but all he saw was a squirrel.

Callum hesitated, and stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Look, Rayla, if it makes you feel better – how about me and Ezran both go out in the boat to start with? And if nothing attacks us, we’ll swim later.”

She eyed him mulishly. He tried to look as earnest and reasonable as possible, and beside him, Ezran put on his best pleading-face, well-honed by years of sneaking jelly tarts past the town baker. She stared at them for several long seconds, visibly reluctant, then finally relented. “…Alright. But you take your magic cube with you.” She said, begrudgingly, darting to the side to pick up the cube in question from the ground. “And keep a close eye on it. Deal?”

“Deal!” Both of them chorused, sharing a discreet low-five, and Ezran shot off like an arrow towards the boat they’d dragged onto the lakeshore. Callum followed at a more sedate pace, pausing to pull off his gloves and jacket and toss them on the grass. He would rather not get his clothes all fishy, all things considered.

Together, they pushed the boat out and then climbed into it, paddling companionably towards the hulking island of the dead lake monster, surrounded by smaller bobbing fish corpses. After a fair bit of trial-and-error, they discovered that it was actually not all that easy to reach all the way to the water level from the side of the boat, so Ezran went partially over the side while Callum held him by the legs, his brother throwing fish over his shoulder and occasionally hitting him in the face with them. Some of the fish were smaller, some larger, but there were in general quite a lot of them. Apparently, a lightning spell channelled directly into water caused a lot of damage. He should probably keep that in mind. It seemed like the sort of thing that could come back to bite him if he didn’t.

“This is way too many fish.” Ez said, after he finally tired of hanging over the edge and grabbing dinner. “We’ll never eat it all.”

“We can probably eat some tomorrow?” He suggested, stepping carefully around the new floor of fish to return to the oars. “I mean, they shouldn’t go bad overnight, right?”

“I have no idea how fast fish goes bad.” His brother shrugged, and peered over at the shore. “…I think we should go back now. Rayla looks worried.”

Callum looked over and saw that she was, indeed, watching from the shore, shoulders slightly hunched, holding Bait under one arm and her other hand resting within grabbing-range of a weapon. He hummed agreeably, and together they set about returning to shore.

“We have so much dinner,” Ezran announced to her once they hit the silty beach, watching her posture loosen a bit as they arrived back.

She peered warily into the boat. “…I can see that.”

“No lake monsters either, as you may have noticed.”

“…Yes, in fact, I did notice.”

“So, it should be perfectly safe to go swimming, right?”

Rayla stared at them, plainly both unimpressed and uncomfortably, but also very obviously not immune to begging and wheedling. “…Fine, whatever, if you want to go splash about in a lake, be my guest,” She huffed, waving both arms towards the water. “But don’t take too long! There’s a lot to get done today, and if you think I’m doing it all alone, think again.”

“That sounds fair.” Callum said immediately, Ezran nodding rapidly beside him.

“Ugh.” Rayla offered, as her final opinion on the matter, and turned to storm up the shore.

Callum’s attention was pulled away when, abruptly, his brother slapped him on the forearm and declared “last one in the lake has to eat dirt!” and dashed to the water’s edge to start rapidly disrobing.

“Wha- hey!” he protested, and chased after him, shedding clothing as he went. After all, Callum had done worse things as challenge-forfeits with his brother than eating dirt, but that didn’t mean he was going to stand by and lose. It was the principle of the thing.

They scrambled along the lakeshore, leaving a trail of boots and assorted vestments in their wake.

Rayla wasn’t sure what she’d done to get stuck with a couple of humans who thought water was fun, but it was really annoying.

She picked through all the drying belongings of the camp until she found the washrag, and took that and one of her weapons back down the lakeshore to the boat, shaking her head at the clothes that the princes had strewn haphazardly all over the place. They were going to be covered in dirt and silt when they tried to put them on again, but did they care? No, they just wanted to go swimming. She could hear them splashing about and cheering at each other and it was just – irritating. Very irritating. That was all, it was just annoying.

She hadn’t been lying when she said there was a lot to do. For one thing – who did they think was going to clean and prepare all those fish? Fish didn’t come magically gutted and ready to cook, and she suspected that was yet another thing that pampered human princes might not have quite realised.

A little vengefully, Rayla resolved to leave enough fish left over to make Callum learn how to clean them. Partially so she wouldn’t have to do it all, partially just to gross him out a bit. If he had time to waste swimming, he had time to spend doing gross necessary things. Like gutting fish.

She stiffened at the sound of some particularly vigorous splashing and a high-pitched shriek. They’re just messing about, she told herself, firmly, eyes on the boat full of fish she was meant to be working on. They’re having fun. They’re fine. She didn’t need to watch them. She didn’t need to supervise them. There weren’t any lake monsters and they knew how to swim and they were fine. They weren’t going to drown. She didn’t need to guard them. She had a job to do.

Teeth gritted, she climbed into the boat and started tossing fish overboard onto the lakeshore, one by one. She tensed and flinched at every water-sound the princes made – every splash, every shriek and yell the two of them made as they did whatever-it-was people who liked water did when they swam. She did not like water and didn’t like them being in it out of her eyesight but they were fine, it was fine, she should just…go deal with fish, somewhere up the shore where she didn’t have to be close to water, or to people messing about in water.

But…there wasn’t really any reason why she couldn’t just clean out the fish next to the boat. That way she didn’t have to carry fish up the shore, and she could wash away the guts easily. It would be more convenient. Supervising the humans could just be…a convenient side effect.

She took a deep breath, easing into a controlled rhythm of inhalation and exhalation like Runaan had tried so hard to teach her. She’d never been much for meditation. But the breathing tricks were handy sometimes. She ignored the way her stomach tightened at the sight of the deep water of the lake, so close by, and settled next to the pile of fish she’d made to start working.

Her blades weren’t exactly filleting knives, but they worked perfectly well if she held them right. She grabbed a lake trout with her bad hand and sliced carefully down its belly with the sword held in the other, excising a blob of gloopy viscera with a deft flick of the sword-tip. She worked at it for a minute, carefully not looking at the lake, and set it aside when it was done. Then, finally, she allowed herself to glance upwards to check on the princes. Just to satisfy the anxiety that the thought of them in the water provoked.

They were having a splash-fight. Of course they were. That would explain all the annoyingly-cheerful yelling.

She sighed, deeply, and reached for a second fish.

Rayla cleaned and set aside ten trout and one toothy pike before she decided enough was enough, and stood to cup her hands around her mouth and yell. “Oi! You lot! You’ve had your fun, now get out of there and dry off!” She watched impatiently as Callum, previously vanished beneath the surface of the water, re-appeared at her call, floating beside Ezran.

The noises she received back sounded like “aww,” but they were sort of cheerful and agreeable-sounding, rather than actually disappointed. Evidently, the crazy blighters had enjoyed their brief stint in the water. They must be mad. Absolutely mad. Completely bonkers. But at least they were swimming up to shore to be crazy on solid land, now. She rolled her eyes and rinsed fish guts from her hands, shaking off the droplets of water as she rose to wait for them to arrive.

Ezran, evidently a more enthusiastic swimmer, came ashore first, stepping gradually out of the shallows with Callum a couple of metres behind him.

“You didn’t exactly leave your clothes in a good place, you know.” She greeted the littlest prince with, hands on her hips as he emerged from the shallows, hair dribbling lakewater down his back.

“What do you – oh.” Ezran, who had stripped down to underpants to go swimming, lifted up the trousers he’d abandoned at the lakeshore, now gratuitously coated in silt. “Um, you might have a point.”

“A point about what?” Callum asked, stepping up beside him in a similar state of undress. Rayla blinked, then jerked her chin in the direction of all the abandoned clothing, a sort of flustered heat prickling insistently at her face.

“You’ve got grit all over your stuff. You might as well go back into the water and rinse it off before you dry off.” She informed him, pointing.

“…Ah. Hah.” Callum’s eyes followed her gesture to where his own clothes were, and he laughed sheepishly. “I guess it’s laundry day, then. C’mon Ez, let’s get this done quickly, alright?” He stepped over to pick up his things, and after a moment, Ezran followed his lead.

“What are we going to wear while this all dries, though?”

“Our slightly less-wet stuff up by the bags, I guess?”

And so they splashed back into the lake less than a few minutes after they’d left it, dragging their clothing through the water. They hadn’t even thought to consider going to look for the bar of soap (which had, in fact, reduced somewhat in size through its immersion in water). They really didn’t have a practical bone in their bodies.

Rayla sighed, shaking her head ruefully. She had a lot to teach these dumb humans.

She headed up the shore to grab the soap and returned to the water’s edge with it, waving it in the air. “You might want to use soap, if you’re doing your laundry.” She called to them, and waited for them to look over. Callum came tromping through the shallows to retrieve it from her, his various pieces of clothing slung over his bare arms and shoulders. “Don’t drop it. Or you’ll never find it again, and then we won’t have any soap all the way to Xadia.”

It nearly slid from his grasp that very second, slippery with the water on his hands, and he giggled nervously. “….I’ll do my best?” He offered, and turned to run back into the water, nearly falling over in the process. Honestly.

It might have been sensible for her to join in with the laundering, but frankly she was so very, very done with water today. If she never had to look at a water source again, it would be too soon. She sighed, gathering the cleaned fish into the washrag, and headed up the shore with a half-hearted hope that the boys wouldn’t lose their only bar of soap. She poked at the inner-tent, on her way past, and found it still really quite damp. Hopefully some sky magic would help it along. She set the fish down on a patch of grass around where she was planning to put the campfire, and then returned to shore again, waiting for the princes to finish.

They had not, she noted, lost the soap. They did speed up, seeing her waiting there watchfully, and shortly were stomping out of the lake with soaking-wet clothes. She rolled her eyes and took the soap back, telling them “Wring out your stuff and set it drying somewhere. We’ve got work to do.” She waved them off to follow her bidding and, five minutes later, they reported for duty. Still dripping from the hair and almost entirely unclothed, but they’d dry off soon enough. “Right then. Ezran, you’re on firewood. Get sticks, fallen branches, leaves – the drier the better. Make a pile nearby, alright? We’ve got lots to cook today.”

He grinned, looking far more excited than menial camp chores should warrant. Clearly the shine hadn’t worn off yet. “Yes, ma’am!” he chirped, and scampered off to inspect the roots of the nearest tree.

“Don’t go too far, alright?” She called after him, then turned to Callum, who was starting to look like he regretted being largely unclothed in the brisk breeze. “And you,” She pronounced, reaching to her side to hand him her other blade, “are going to learn how to clean fish.”

He took it, blinking at it with a singularly befuddled expression for a second, turning it over in his hand. “I am? Great!” He said, distractedly, as if he’d not actually heard her. He inspected her sheathed weapon, turning it this way and that, and looked about two seconds away from cutting his fingers off whenever he figured out how to open it, so she snatched it back to demonstrate, slowly, how it was meant to be done.

“Like this.” She showed him, smirking a little. It was kind of funny, really, how clueless he and his brother were about things she’d pretty much been raised on. Well, they’d learn. She closed the weapon again and handed it back to him to try.

Cautiously, he mimicked her, and successfully unsheathed one of her weapons by himself, albeit clumsily. A delighted grin spread over his face, as if something as small as opening a weapon were enough to please him. “Cool.” He pronounced, now turning the blade every which way to inspect it. “Magic weapons, huh?”

“Yep. And all we have for preparing food with, incidentally.” She said, and reached out to shove him gently by the shoulder towards the pile of fish. His skin was still slippery with lakewater. “Come on, you. It’s about time you learned something useful.”

“What, and my half-a-lightning-spell doesn’t count?” He demanded, still grinning, as he allowed himself to be led over.

“Something useful that’s less likely to electrocute bystanders.” She rolled her eyes, smiling tolerantly back at him, and sat him down by the fish. “Right then. Watch how I do it, alright?” She took a fish and walked him through the process. He made faces at the guts, but didn’t look away or have to take a vomit break, and stayed attentive and interested. She wondered if he’d have the same alacrity the first time he saw a bird or mammal being gutted. She sort of doubted it. That sort of viscera took more getting used to.

“That was somehow simpler than I was expecting.” He said, after she’d finished, holding her blade gingerly in his lap.

“Fish are easy. Much easier than animals.” She said, and tilted her head. “Ready to try? Or do you want to see it again?”

He considered it for a second, inspecting her and then the pile of fish. He reached out to take one and inspected it, fingers of his other hand twitching on the handle of her blade. “I’ll try.” He decided, suddenly determined, and leaned forwards to make his attempt. She sat back on her heels and watched, steadfastly ignoring his state of undress.

Most of his awkwardness seemed to come from not quite knowing how to hold the blade, which was fair enough. But he clearly remembered what to do well enough. His first attempt was a bit messy, and he grimaced at the fish guts, but he did a perfectly serviceable job of it. He glanced up at her. “That okay?”

She offered him a smile. “Not bad at all.” She said, and nodded to the pile. “I’ll stick around to watch you do a couple more, but I think you’ve got this.”

He looked pleased enough at that, just that small praise, that his entire face seemed to brighten. Rayla found herself drawing back a little, as if to put space between them, and wasn’t sure why. They weren’t sitting that close, after all. Callum didn’t seem to notice – he was already reaching for his next fish – but Rayla…she shook herself out of the momentary strangeness and supervised her companion’s progress, as she was meant to.

He was neater on the second attempt, and approaching quick on the third. At that point she nodded approvingly, said “Well, seems you’re doing fine. I’ll leave you to finish the rest, alright?”

He blinked at her, his previous mask of concentration lapsing under his lopsided smile. “Sure. I’ll try not to take too long.”

She reached out and patted him encouragingly on the arm. His skin felt fairly cold, and mostly dry – he should probably look to getting dressed once he was done, or he’d catch a chill. “Take your time. Try not to cut off any fingers.”

Callum laughed, only a little nervously. “I will...try not to do that, yeah.” he agreed, turning after a moment to reach for the next fish. Rayla gathered up the ones he’d done and took them over to where she’d piled the rest. Ezran had, throughout her observation of Callum’s fish-gutting, been doing his job; there was now a modest pile of firewood on the shore, and she could see the kid scampering about the treeline about fifteen metres along the lake, still happily at work.

Both princes seemed perfectly happy to help and learn, at least, even if they had no useful experience whatsoever. It was a hopeful sign.

Rayla gathered up a pile of branches and set about building the fire. There was a lot of fish to cook.

All things told, Callum’s day seemed to be making a turn for the better, now that they’d stopped to do camp-things. His memory served him well in following Rayla’s tuition, and although he made a misstep here or there with the rest of the fish, all that meant was that some intestines spilled and he had to do a bit more cleaning of gross stuff before he finished.

Rayla was already situated at a cheerful campfire and arranging fish speared on sticks all around it when he carried the rest of the catch over to her. Once he was upright the wind was a lot harder to ignore, and he shivered, crouching to deposit the fish where she’d put the others, and putting her sheathed blade carefully at her side. “That should be all of it.” he said, settling for a moment beside her to observe the cooking. It already smelled good – really good. After days of berries and a couple of leaves, the savoury smell of the cooking fish made his mouth start watering pretty much at the first whiff.

“Thanks.” She said, a little distractedly, as she was currently trying to spear a fish-bearing stick into the ground, but the stick was giving way instead of the ground. She huffed, stabbed the ground with one of her blades, and put the stick into the furrow it left. She looked at him, nodding approvingly as she observed the fish he’d deposited at her side. “Any problems?”

“Eh, I made something nasty spill out a couple of times, but that’s it.” He smiled crookedly. “Managed not to cut off any fingers.” he waggled them at her.

She huffed a laugh, and reached out to take her blade back, hanging it back near the underside of her jacket-thing. “Well done.” She congratulated him, amused, and waggled her own fingers back at him, two fewer than his own. He tried not to frown at the increasingly-purple left hand. “Ready for another job?”

He straightened, as much as he could when half-kneeling next to a campfire. Its warmth was welcome, given the increasing chill of the breeze. “Sure?”

Rayla pointed to the various belongings hanging on trees, swaying in the breeze. “See if you can dry the tent. And try not to blow the camp away while you’re doing it.”

“Oh yeah! He remembered. “Right, I was meant to be doing that. I'll just-” He stood, and had stepped half towards the hanging inner-tent before a fresh gust of wind reminded him that he was still wearing almost nothing. “...Maybe I’ll get dressed first.”

Somewhat more than an hour later, Callum had increased his number of spells cast by pretty much a factor of twenty, and had only slightly blown the camp away in the process, and only put the campfire out once. His own still-damp clothes became steadily drier in the process, and his hair more profoundly windblown. After a while Ezran finished making his firewood pile and sat nearby to watch his brother blow magic air around, dragon egg in his lap and Bait atop the dragon egg. By the twelfth iteration of the spell he’d started making silly suggestions, like asking Callum to belch out the spell’s air instead of exhaling it. As yet, Callum had declined to try any of these suggestions.

It was, maybe, pretty repetitive, casting aspiro over and over and over again, while standing on or weighing down whatever he was trying to dry, lest he blow their stuff halfway through the forest again. But Callum could not, in the least, ever imagine being bored with it.

He drew the rune over and over again, each time feeling that prickle of energy in his finger just before he tapped his finger forwards to draw magic into the air. He could never grow tired of it – of reaching out and drawing light into the sky, watching it pulse with energy and the first eager trickles of wind before he spoke to release it, feeling his breath taken and amplified by the magic into something so much more powerful. The primal stone tingled against his skin, heavy in his hand, almost as if the brimming energy inside approved of the outlet he was opening for it.

Aspiro. There was something really interesting, about that moment that his finger went from simply moving to drawing, shaping his will into the magic of the air. It was a maddeningly evasive thing – so hard to put words to – like a tiny, transient tickle of sensation. Like when he moved his finger forwards to draw the rune, he touched something. Just the faintest, strangest flicker of something...like the slightest hint of colder air, maybe. Or the feeling of touching metal in the day before a storm, but so much gentler. Or, really, he could compare it in feeling to the second of potential that separated his charcoal from the paper he drew upon. It was similar.

Aspiro. He cast it, again and again, never tiring of it. Never failing to find something else to notice. It was his breath that went into the spell – not his power, maybe, because that all came from the primal stone, but – it was his breath, his air, that he exhaled out into the magic. It needed him to take form. He tried holding that breath in, once, and felt the magic build into a gusty agitation that started spiralling out of the unfulfilled rune, almost like the sparks from the unfinished lightning spell. Even though he’d already said the word that should have finished the spell – it needed his breath. There was something really cool about that. All the power of a storm, and it needed him to take form.

That time, when he exhaled, the air left him almost too-fast, like the spell leapt down his throat to cling to the back of his breath. The windstorm that gusted out of him was more violent, after that, and not quite as neatly funnel-shaped.

He reached out to draw the rune again, and wondered what would happen if he drew it smaller. Would it make any difference? Would drawing it bigger make any difference? If he changed the shape, just a tiny bit, what would it do to the spell?

He drew it smaller, just to test that. The spell came out just as strong as the other dozen or so times. Huh.

He drew it bigger. Still, basically the same. Size didn’t matter, apparently.

He hesitated at trying to change the shape, though. That seemed like something that would have to make a difference, and he probably shouldn’t experiment with that when the camp was at stake if something went wrong. One magical accident was more than enough for one day, thank you very much.

Instead, he set about finding out if the volume he said aspiro at made any difference.

(It didn’t. But it did bring up the very interesting question of whether it was possible to cast a spell without actually saying anything.)

He was down to whispering the spell, which still seemed to be working fine, and raising his hand to draw the rune again for another, quieter try, when-

“Have you actually stopped to feel the cloak for the last five spells?” Rayla said, from directly behind him, and he jumped badly enough that he nearly dropped the primal stone, fumbling with it for several seconds before managing to catch and secure it properly. She didn’t quite manage to hide her tiny smirk before he turned around, armed with a primal stone and a half-hearted glare.

“You do that on purpose.” He complained, Ezran snickering at him from the side. Ezran, who had not warned him that she was sneaking up on him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rayla lied brightly, leaning over to pat at the cloak-bedroll he’d been drying for…possibly more spells than necessary. “And, I think you’ve overdone this one a bit. It’s dry as paper.”

“…Good for you, I guess, since I think that one’s yours.” He said ruefully, and took his boot off the edge of it to allow her to scoop it up. She felt along its length, humming approvingly, and rolled it up while she inspected the rest of the stuff.

She eyed the inner and outer layers of the tent, now dry and folded nearby. “Well, you didn’t lose the tent again, at least.” She commented.

“That was one time.”

“At least the tent is dry now, so we don’t need to sleep outside.” Ezran put in, leaning back. “And the egg likes all this sky magic. Look at it glow!”

They all collectively took a moment to inspect the egg. It was, indeed, glowing more brightly than typical, casting a large portion of Ezran’s clothes in bluish light.

“…Do you suppose sky dragon eggs are supposed to be near sky magic?” Callum wondered, stepping over to linger near his brother, staring down at the enormous egg. “I mean, maybe it always used to be this bright, but then it was locked up in our castle for months.”

Ezran peered at the egg’s shell with sudden concentration. “…I bet his parents gave him all the magic he needed.” He said, with that odd certainty he had sometimes. “And now Callum can give him magic until we get him back to Xadia.”

Rayla muffled a snicker, and patted Callum on the back. “Well, congratulations on becoming a dragon-parent, Callum. “ She told him, and then nodded her head back towards the hanging tent bits. “Anyway. I originally came over here to check on how you were doing, but if the tent is dry – mind coming over to set it up? The sun will be going down soon.”

“What, already?” He looked up, and…yeah, the sky was looking late-afternoon-ish. “Huh.”

“Can I help?” Ezran asked eagerly, standing up at once, Bait falling off the egg as soon as he moved, and landing with a soft thump and a displeased croak.

“The more the merrier.” She answered decisively, and led them all off to help with this vaguely-familiar element of camp-craft.

“What’s wrong with your hand?” Asked Ezran, at one point when they were pitching the tent, and…well, Rayla had sort of been waiting for him to notice. Callum had certainly noticed, after all, and had been sending her looks about it all day. He’d not asked again after the first time, though, even though he clearly wanted to. She’d appreciated that, even though every look made her stomach churn – but Ez was bound to notice it eventually, too. Of course he’d ask.

She stilled, half way through feeding the tent poles through, and forced a smile. “…Not important right now.” She prevaricated, eventually, and kept on at her task. Even though the stiffness of her increasingly sore hand made it harder. Everything she’d done with her hand today hurt, really, even if it wasn’t really bad yet. ‘Yet’ being the operative word here.

Ezran didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, and Callum was watching interestedly from his position feeding his own tent pole through, waiting to see what she’d say. “Rayla, your hand is purple.” The younger prince pointed out, brow furrowing at her, and the two sets of eyes prickled at her.

Discomfort, with an edge of panic, flared in her chest. She bristled, and ducked her head down, eyes fixed stubbornly on the tent. “Not important right now.” She repeated, with a harder edge to the words. She pushed the pole through perhaps more violently than necessary, and reached for the next one.

“But, Rayla-“

“Leave it, Ezran.” She snapped, and then immediately felt guilty. Still, though, she didn’t raise her head or attempt to capitulate; she hunched her shoulders and kept working. She could almost feel Callum’s unimpressed stare on her.

The sound of rustling from where Ezran sat. “O-kay. Fine.” He said, in the somewhat transparent tones of someone who was a little upset but pretending to be annoyed instead. “…I’m going to go top up the campfire.” He announced, and did exactly that, the sounds of his footsteps stomping away.

The silence when he’d gone felt distinctly accusative. Rayla’s shoulders hunched higher.

After a few more seconds, she couldn’t even keep up the pretence of continuing to work. She chanced a glance upwards, at where Callum sat on the opposite side of the outer-tent, and flinched slightly at the look he was giving her. Not quite properly annoyed, maybe, but definitely miffed.

“…You didn’t have to snap at him, you know.” He said to her, the slightest edge in his voice.

She looked away, feeling worse by the second. “…I know.” She admitted, right hand settling over her left, as if to hide it from view.

“You could just say you don’t want to talk about it. He’d understand that.”

“I know.” She bit back the ire in the words as best she could, not wanting to end up snapping at him too. She exhaled. “I just…” She trailed off, not sure what to say. The bind was tight around her wrist. The skin of her swollen hand prickled and tingled and ached. She looked up again, hesitant, and found him still staring, arms folded, expression somewhat stony. “…I’ll apologise. When he’s back.” She said, eyes returning determinedly to the tent fabric. She set back to the task at hand, half-watching Callum’s reaction from the corners of her vision.

He settled, somewhat, from the mild protective tension she’d unwittingly provoked in him. “Well, good.” He said lamely, as if not knowing quite what else to say, and allowed his arms to loosen. “Let’s just get this tent done, alright?”

“…Yeah.”

The quiet as they finished up the necessarily two-person part of the tent-pitching was not entirely comfortable, but not tense either. He’d apparently taken her promise of apology at face value, and was as agreeable as ever to her directives on what to do with the tent. They had it up in short order, now needing only the inner-tent and the tent pegs to be fully assembled. Ezran, meanwhile, had returned to the campfire with an armful of twigs, and was sullenly tossing them on, one-by-one.

“I’ll try to sort out the inner tent.” Callum suggested, in a fairly transparent effort to get her to go over to his brother. She gave him a look, but didn’t argue, waving him in the direction of the hanging fabric in wordless agreement. She needed to check on the latest batch of fish, anyway.

She crossed the relatively short distance to the fire in five brisk strides, ignoring the temptation to delay it by walking slower. She was not great at apologies. She was not great at difficult conversations, in general. But Ez was a good kid and she didn’t want to upset him.

Ezran, for his part, clearly noticed her approach, but nonchalantly kept poking at his firewood pile as if completely unconcerned. “Hi, Rayla.” He said, almost airily, as if nothing had happened, but he didn’t so much as look her way.

She crouched beside him, and took a deep breath. “Look, Ez, I’m sorry for snapping at you.” She said, and his eyes flickered upwards to hers for a second. He held the gaze for a second before looking back at the fire, tossing in another stick.

He was quiet for a few seconds, long enough that Rayla was about to try to elaborate, but then he spoke. “Are you going to say what’s wrong with your hand?”

She winced, and curled it towards her chest in a quick, reflexive attempt to hide it. The speed of the movement pulled a little painfully against the swelling fingers. “…Not yet?” She answered, almost pleadingly. He did turn to look back at her then, eyes fixing seriously on hers. She’d not quite noticed how piercing that shade of blue could be, before now.

“I can tell it’s important.” He told her, plainly. “But it’s your hand. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want. Or Callum. It’s not our business.”

Rayla grimaced a little, and reached out to pull one of the fish-on-a-stick from the edge of the fire. “…It sort of is, actually. It’s complicated.” She exhaled a long breath, feeling the first inklings of a stress headache sprouting at the sides of her face. “But…not now? Let’s just…eat fish and relax for a while. After today it’s going to be pretty hard going, after all.” She attempted a smile.

He blinked at her, curious and not trying to hide it, but nodded without making any further moves to ask questions. “Okay. Sounds good.” He said after a moment, and finished putting the last of the sticks onto the fire. “….is there anything left to do on the tent?”

Her smile loosened into something more genuine at the hope in those words. She wondered how long it would be until Ezran no longer found the tent so intriguing. “Callum’s probably sorting out the inside of the tent. I bet you can help him with that if you hurry.”

Predictably, this led to the littler human of the party scurrying across to his brother. She watched him go, and watched him duck into the main tent to investigate, and then smothered a laugh as she heard: “Uh, Callum? Why is the door facing that way?”

There was a pause, then a muttered rude word from the older prince. Evidently, he’d started hanging the inner-tent the wrong way round. Rayla, who had done the exact same thing the first time she’d been left on tent duty alone, found herself feeling sympathetically amused about it.

She shook her head ruefully and eased a smaller river-fish from a stick and onto an increasingly large pile. They’d have plenty to eat tonight, and plenty of leftovers to spare, which was just as well. This interlude by the lake was probably the most rest they’d get for a while. In a day or three, the terrain would get decidedly harsher, and no one would be having fun.

Least of all her, with the hand she didn’t expect she’d be able to keep.

She flexed the stiffening fingers of her left hand, and sighed. Well, in any case…She’d best enjoy the calm while she could.

End chapter.

This chapter takes place on 15.05, day 5 since start of canon.

True story: I have put the inner-tent up the wrong way round before, early on in my hiking experience. This leads to the doorway to the inside of the tent being inaccessible, and is not advised. Generally you don’t make that mistake twice, but it’s an easy one to make the first time.

Medical note: I am treating Rayla’s hand as a limb ischemia. Damage and symptoms will follow ischemic trends, with one notable exception: I am ignoring the worst effects of reperfusion injury. There’s some reasons for this. 1) canon does it. Rayla’s hand returns to normal in about five seconds with no apparent pain or consequence or, indeed, reperfusion. 2) I’m not going to let her off as lightly as canon, but I also don’t want to have to rearrange my plot to make room for fighting Rayla’s major organ failure, so. I’m just plain not going to.

The risk here is to Rayla’s hand and its assorted anatomical constituents, not to Rayla’s kidneys and heart; and there might be some inflammatory damage, but not the horrifying cascades of cell death you often see in reperfusion.

For the purposes of this story, let’s just say elves are, for whatever reason, highly resistant to reperfusion damage. Maybe not completely immune, but very very resistant. Feel free to imagine whatever explanation you like for that.

Afterword: thanks for the support everyone has given with comments and kudos and so on. I actually didn’t have an anxiety crash after last chapter because there was so much nice response, which was a pleasant change. Thanks again to Jelly who keeps offering enthusiasm and encouragement, and to Noip who has followed me through like three fandoms now and is always my best analyst.

I’ve now written about a total of like…83k of piaj? But ch6 is still unfinished because I’ve mainly been writing future scenes, rip. At least when we get to like, chapter 20ish, I’ll have a heck of a lot of content pre-written. Also I have all of the major currently-planned events on a rough timeline now, and it’s Fun. The latest major event currently in the timeline is currently loosely plotted around Day 50, and coincidentally, it’s the event that I (and Jelly) am most desperate to get to. (note: this is not when the story would end.)

I only have one complete chapter left to post, so....wish me luck on finishing 6.

#tdp #tdp fic #rayllum #tdp fanfic #tdp rayla #tdp callum #tdp ezran #piaj #piaj chapters

41 notes · View notes