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scattered-winter · 1 year

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So what is your time fuckery au?? I've noticed you mention it a few times in tags but never found a proper 'thing' about it. As in, there's no fic or main art that I can find

(hope your day is going well <3)

ha, yeah, the time fuckery au mostly lives in my brain only at this point. I've written a few scenes here and there, and even posted a few snippets to my blog, but mostly it's just been an ongoing development in my brain only <3 that SAID. i loove talking about it so i'm glad u asked :] (technically "timeline fuckery au" is probably more accurate because that's what I'm messing with: timelines and alternate universes, as opposed to. literal time. but i called it the time fuckery au once and it stuck. so.)

here's the playlist (I'm constantly updating it) :]]

so basically. there are 2 different versions of the call of duty modern warfare franchises: the og, w three games in the mid-2000s, and the reboot with two games between 2019-2022, and a third game in the works. for the most part, the two franchises are fairly aligned w similar events/recurring villains (such as the shepherd betrayal, which happened in both versions, but in the og it resulted in the deaths of ghost and roach, but in the reboot nobody died. in fact, overall in the og games, everyone on the team was dead by the end except one of them.) in this au, the two versions are alternate, adjacent timelines. all the deaths that happen in both* timelines are fundamentally Not Supposed To Happen, and so some Freaky Timeline Shit occurs to try and correct it. the two soaps trade places. og soap ends up in the reboot timeline with the reboot team, and reboot soap ends up in the og timeline with the og team. at this point, reboot soap and ghost are in a relationship, and the 141 is all very close, and so of course it's a big mess when soap wakes up in a universe where everyone looks like his closest friends/boyfriend but they are, fundamentally, different people. and the same goes for og soap, who's suddenly thrown into a room with people he half-recognizes but none of them are Right. and what's more, some of the team is Not There when they should be. (like roach).

*as of the 2022 game, nobody in the main team has died yet, BUT the third game is involving makarov, who was the villain who caused the deaths of several team members in the og, so I'm taking some liberties with the timeline during that period. so in the unchanged reboot timeline, several team members died.

(i would also like to point out that the actual switch happens before all the deaths happen, obviously. HOWEVER, both soaps know exactly how the original, unchanged timelines are gonna turn out if they don't do anything. it's basically just a very fucked up timeloop.)

to make matters worse, the soaps are connected to each other even before the actual switch happens. reboot soap has nightmares of his team dying right in front of him (gaz shot, ghost burned, etc) but they're not his team. they're the og team. but ofc he doesn't know this yet <3 and this ofc happens vice versa, but I haven't figured out specifics for how the reboot team dies yet so I can't tell you anything about it lmao

and the dreams don't stop after the switch!!! because why bother sending them to alternate dimensions if not to remind them what will happen if they fail!!!! and the entire time, they're also racing against time because having two people Cross Realities is throwing the continuum out of whack, and so it's trying to Find Equilibrium Again by merging the two soaps more and more as time goes on. reboot soap wakes up with a scar that he didn't have before, but remembers getting. on a mission he never went on. og soap is talking to ghost (with all the awkwardness of talking to someone who's dating your alternate self) and he calls ghost something that only soap--reboot soap--ever called him. he just. Knew. and so on top of everything else, they also have all the fear of slowly losing themselves <33

and of course they manage to save both teams (and also bring reboot roach into the team godbless <33) and things return to normal but not before there's a LOT of angst and timeloops and timeline fuckery going on. this whole au is basically me just taking both canons and attacking them with scissors and then gluing the little pieces together into a collage. and then rinse and repeat. I'm having soooo much fun with it :]]]] and of course, at the end before the timelines fully go back to normal, the teams get to meet their alternate selves :]] self recognition through the other except it's you from another life :]]] here's a lil snippet :]]]]]]

Simon stood in space. Stars wheeled overhead and below, clustered in colorful nebulas in explosions of color and light.

And across from him stood…himself.

Ghost was holding himself the same way Simon did; weight evenly distributed on each foot, gaze constantly shifting from person to person and window to door. Ready to act at a half second’s notice.

Simon could see the moment Ghost noticed him; a slight stiffening to the shoulders, a straightening of the spine, a subtle slide of the foot to gain a better defensive stance. All miniscule tells, but to Simon, glaringly obvious, a blinking neon sign.

Were Simon’s tells always this clear, or was it simply because he knew to look for them? He could read the other Ghost like a book; the subtle tilt to his head as he sized him up, the tension in his shoulders as he decided if Simon was a threat. He could read the other Ghost and see how he himself was being read; another tilt to Ghost’s head as he clearly came to the same conclusion as Simon.

“You’re the other one.” His voice took Simon off-guard. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it: soft, rounded at the edges, like a stone worn smooth by a stream. But behind it was that edge, that gentle tone of danger. Even from a different world, that was still the same, with perfect, striking clarity.

Simon wasn’t sure what to say. What was there to be said? Here he stood, before someone who was his double in nearly every way, who likely already knew what he was thinking because he was thinking it, too.

“How’s the team?” was what he said at last, rough, abrasive voice grating against Ghost’s softer tone.

“In one piece. Thanks to your man.” Your man. Did this Ghost know what Johnny meant to him? He must; he was Simon, after all.

“Yours did good work here, too,” Simon said, though they both knew Captain Mactavish wasn’t his.

They fell silent, as they both preferred, simply studying one other. Ghost had sunglasses over his mask to veil his eyes, something that Simon had done himself on occasion. He liked it when nobody could see his eyes, but hated how it limited his field of vision.

It was unnerving, the way he was so very much like himself. The mask, the name, the way Ghost stood. He was a dead man walking, they both were. Had he suffered the same things Simon had suffered? He must have; why else would he wear the mask, and stand like that, like an attack might come from any direction?

For a moment, Simon looked at Ghost and Ghost looked at Simon. A pair of reflections, a pair of echoes. For the first time in his life, Ghost could peer out into the darkness and see his own face looking back at him.

Then Simon broke the silence, voice as haggard and vulnerable as he would allow it to be in the empty space between worlds, where stars flickered under their feet and where there was nobody to hear but himself.

“Were we better off dead?”

Ghost paused for a moment, hesitated, looked Simon up and down, and Simon knew he wasn’t just seeing him standing there. He was seeing the coffin six feet under, the choking dirt, the dead bodies in the flat in London, the rivers of blood staining his hands, so much of it that he could never wash it all off. The nightmares. The kills. The missions, one after another after another, because the war never ended, not really, not for him.

“I don’t know. Maybe we were.”

And there wasn’t anything else to say, not after that. Simon sighed, felt the universe sigh with him, and dipped his head in acknowledgement. A few feet away Ghost did the same, and had Simon been able to see his eyes, he would have seen himself reflected there, just like everywhere else.

And then the stars and the mirrors melted away, and Simon woke up.

#its just!! knowing that you might never see home again!! but you ARE home!! but its not YOUR home!!!!#knowing you might never see YOUR team again!! even though you're surrounded by them!! theyre not YOURS.#agh!!!!!!!!#anyway. im constantly insane about this au. btw.#i HAD a timeline all typed up and ready and then it fucking. got deleted. and ngl i havent had the energy to remake it again #but SOON. soon. because its a super complicated au and the timeline will be helpful for all involved parties.#anon #time fuckery au #call of duty modern warfare #johnny soap mactavish #ghost #winter writes #also my day has been GREAT ty !!!#i got. a hug today. for the first time in like 2 years. and im gonna be thinking abt it for months <3 #<- ive been informed that this implies i am severely touch starved. lmao.#but anyway !! sending u love !!

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safekeeperscosm · 3 years

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So... Amphibiababies AU? This sounds like a really interesting idea

I see that you've already post a few things about Anne and Sasha, so that make me thing about the last member of the trio.

What if Yunnan became Marcy's big sister by accident? One day, a really young recruit named Yunnan was asigned as part of Marcy's escort during a short travel outside Newtopia. At the first, Yunnan was annoyed with this, because "nobody wants to be little creature's babysitter" but then, after they suffered an attack (Maybe a few bandits or some kind of dangerous animal), Marcy started asking questions like "What movement was that?" "How are you so strong?" "What's your weapon?"... And Yunnan is... Really touched? There's not many people interested in her skills and we know that she loves getting attention, so Marcy's non-stop rambling questions about herself were what make Yunnan's perspective about the princess change.

After that day, Yunnan started to get fond in the little princess, telling her stories about her incredible adventures every. Single. TIME. she's got an opportunity, teaching her how to defend herself (Maybe behind Lady Olivia's back? Olivia doesn't look like the woman who would let her "adoptive daugther" play with knives) and perphaps boosting Marcy's arrogant and adventure side

Rxally your mind.. (๑♡⌓♡๑) here have these.

I see her as an aunt or her other mom (maybe cause I ship Yunlivia?), but sister is also very fitting!! Now I'm gonna see her as a mix of all 3.

Since they all know Marcy is A Child, Lady Olivia wouldn't want her daughter outside of Newtopian gates, but she doesn't control her. Marcy would want to join this quest or expedition to gain outside experiences and generally just see the world and Lady Olivia knows better than not to deny her daring little princess. She'll just sneak out like last time. King Andrias is cool with it and encourages her!!

Marcy would definitely wander off, but she's not wandering!! She's exploring!!

What else can I say to contribute? Absolutely nothing everyone READ THE ASK IT'S TREASURE

Marcy being Yunnan's Number #1 fan is so good I'm so glad you gave me an excuse to draw this.

I don't talk about the newts enough so this was so lovely of you.

⚠️TRADE OFFER⚠️

i receive: fanfiction, you receive: low quality sketches

#JOKE JOKE IM JOKING #i would do a proper art trade lmao #amphibia #amphibibabies au #general yunnan #marcy wu #marcy leviathan #yeah safe answers stuff #yeah safe draws stuff #i call Marcy her daughter but Lady Olivia wouldn't say that #Lady Olivia out here being the king's advisor & Marcy's caretaker smh #we stan #anyways I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SO MUCH HOOLLYYYYYY #this is perfect THANK YOU HUGHFFHVVJSVGS #lady olivia #hm forgott to tag her #hey maybe we should make a General Yunnan playlist

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dukeofdogs · 3 years

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Beta Thronebreaker

It’s no mystery that at first Thronebreaker was supposed to be just a single-player mode for Gwent before becoming the standalone title we all know and love.

Long story short: I came across of few scrapped/unused stuff that I assume was supposed to be used in that very first version of TB campaign.

Textures not used anywhere in the final version of TB, but looking very similar to how beta Gwent looked like:

And recenlty (today lmao) I came across these flavour texts for various cards written by Reynard and Gascon!

Ballista: Your Grace, we may begin work on constructing ballistae: seemingly simple war machines able to hurl a missile three hundred ells. Can these bolts crumble fortified walls? No, but ranks of soldiers they shatter like so many bowling pins. -Reynard

Battering ram; Your Majesty, our engineers have prepared plans for powerful battering rams: massive, steel-capped rods able to ream through even the tightest-sealed gates. Alas, their crews stand exposed during operation, and thus must require additional defense. - Reynard

Bomb throwers; Meve, you'll never guess who I've managed to get for you: a top-notch alchemist, name's Kalksten, or Kulkstern... doesn't matter, the important thing: he's making us bombs. Just need to train our lads how to use them without blowing off their fingers, and next thing you know, the Black-clads will soil themselves when they see us coming!- Gascon

Catapult; Your Grace, before war broke out, our Rivian manufactures were hard at work on an improved version of the classic catapult. It seems metal cords, properly engineered, can dramatically increase their effectiveness. Now is our chance to put their designs to good use. - Reynard

Crushing trap; Meve, ever seen a crushing trap in action? It kills a man on the spot, no matter how much plate he's clad in. If we can just get the Nilfgaardians to step into these beauties, the results will surpass your wildest dreams.-Gascon

Fire scorpion; Meve, great news! My lads have caught a Nilfgaardian engineer. Took but a singing of his heels and he spilled all possible beans about how their fire scorpions work. We've got everything we need to begin production - we'll give the Black-clads a taste of their own weapon!- Gascon

Infiltrators; Meve, first off - thanks for the kit! The lads love it. Second: soon as you give the sign, I'll start teaching them the fine art of climbing and lock-picking. They can't wait! These are exceptionally useful skills in times of war - and profitable ones in times of peace.- Gascon

Light cavalry; Meve, give us a few good horses and we'll form a mounted division no one can outrun! Believe me, many a Lyrian merchant's tried. We'll harry the Black-clads' flanks and break their formations till they flee south in frustration.- Gascon

Slingers; Meve, instead of dumping coin into complicated contraptions, why not equip your men with simple slingshots? It beggars belief how much damage they can do in the right hands… Plus, they're simple, light and practically foolproof. Whisper the word and I'll start schooling some slingers.- Gascon

Hounds of spalla; Meve, my lads want me to thank you for putting together a tannery - our new leather garb fits like a glove and doesn't cramp our movements while out beating around bushes. It's a welcome change from our old duds, which we'd, um, "borrowed" from some of your soldiers.- Gascon

Infantry level1; Your Majesty, proper grounds and equipment are crucial for the training of new recruits. I suggest we start by acquiring the core essentials – this should not prove too costly while promising immense benefits. - Reynard

Infantry level2; Your Majesty, better equipment could spell the difference between life and death for our soldiers. If you feel we can manage the cost, you shall surely win their gratitude.- Reynard

Infantry level3; Meve, I know you're used to fighting in armor, but in partisan warfare, heavy plate's about as useful as a burr in your breeches, and even less comfortable. We need light armor, form-fitting stuff that lets you strike fast and run away even faster. - Gascon

Infantry level3 ; Your Majesty, if we allocate the appropriate funds, we will be able to forge the plate armor needed to equip heavy cavalry divisions. I'll see to their training myself, you need but say the word.- Reynard

Infantry level4; Your Majesty, though I train our forces to the best of my knowledge, with an outlay of further funds we could recruit experienced drill masters to teach our men new, battle-tested techniques. Alas, the services of such masters come at a steep price. - Reynard

Infantry level5; Meve, we should acquire the equipment needed to practice the art of breaking-and-entering - with this skill under their belts, our men will no longer need to pound away endlessly at enemy gates. Instead, they'll slip over the walls and open them for you from within. - Gascon

Infantry level5; Your Majesty, we could begin production of extremely high quality arbalests - we need but find the coin to hire a skilled weaponsmith and pay for his tools and materials. - Reynard

Kaedweni officer; Your Majesty, as our army grows, so does the need for ever stricter discipline during battle. We should assign a petty officer to each unit along the lines of Kaedwen's renowned infantry. Just say the word, and I'll see to their training myself.- Reynard

Kaedweni siege expert; Your Grace, King Henselt has permitted his best engineers to teach our recruits the secrets of their trade. This opportunity we ought to seize - for the Kaedweni king usually guards this knowledge tightly. Clearly, he wants very much for us to fight effectively and hinder the black-clad onslaught.- Reynard

Kaedweni siege support; Your Grace, from Kaedwen have come volunteers who wish to share their knowledge with our recruits. To school more qualified engineers in our ranks would be a great boon - both to the operation and maintenance of our war machines and to the upkeep of our camp. - Reynard

#thronebreaker #unused content

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mimiplaysgames · 3 years

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Drink Me

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 6,601

Summary: Aqua drinks a truth potion... Now they're going to have to talk about things.

Read on AO3

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!! This is part of an art/fic trade that I'm doing with Moe (@terraswill on Twitter)!! I was so excited to work on this but it was also just... so hard?? We agreed on the trade back in June I think, and it took me this long. xD The timing was perfect though, and when they post their art, I'll edit this to include a link! Moe asked for was something domestic and fluffy (and I'm totally the wrong person to ask but I never back from a challenge dkfjkfjgf), and maybe give Aqua a reason to play a prank. We support a Let Aqua Have Fun 2021 agenda in this house. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. To my angst readers, I hope you find something here you like anyway lmao

~*~*~*~*~

She says she’s annoyed with me because I won’t let her dust the tapestry. Or rather, I won’t let her have her

way

and take on this ugly monstrosity (which I think is supposed to depict an ancient Keyblade Master who died four-hundred years ago; at this point, the threads are too faded to give him a defined face).

The truth has more layers than that, something I don’t like to talk about. But it’s a clear day, the sun beaming through our windows and igniting the castle in golden hues. I won’t find the time to mope when Aqua is beckoning me to give her the feather duster.

Aqua is a lot shorter than me. I pretend to give it to her, only to swerve it around her face and hang it up high above her head. I’ve got a smirk to last me hours, and there’s a sly one pulling on her lips.

“Maybe if you jump,” I say, wiggling it.

She doesn’t move. “Terra.”

I pull it up higher. “Come get it.”

“Or you could stop trying to overcompensate and let me help you.”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?” That’s exactly what I’m doing. Any chance I get, I’ll do it all to make up for lost years. If she says she’ll tidy the garden tomorrow, I’ll rip the weeds by dawn. If she wants to prepare a feast, I’ll organize the ingredients, the recipes, the appliances. I call it helping out. She calls it ridiculous.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says. Yep.

“It’s not like you could reach the top anyway,” I say, knowing this is precisely what would set her off.

Aqua likes to present herself as proper: head tall, ankles together. But when I push her buttons, that’s the first mask to melt off. She lunges at me, chest to chest, aiming for the duster that’s balancing on the tips of my fingers, my elbow locked and shoulder riding as high as it can, as if I’m trying to clean the ceiling. We’re giggling, we’re tight, we’re children all over again.

“Give it,” she says, her eyebrows and lips twisted in feverish concentration. She’d never let anyone else see her behave this way.

“What are you doing?” She steps onto my shoes to gain height and I have to wrap my free arm around her waist to keep our balance (not that I’d complain if she ends up landing on top of me). My heart is pounding stupid rhythms at the smell of her shampoo. I don’t like sweet, but I like it on her.

“Master’s orders. Give it to me.”

“Try harder.”

She inhales sharply, giving me that Aqua look. Fine. She turns her head towards the tapestry and puckers her lips together, blowing air as if blowing out a candle. The layer of dust that sits at the very top bursts, sprinkling the console table beneath it.

In my shock, she snatches the feather duster, the quietest Hmm of satisfaction coming out loud enough to demand my audience. She taps the tapestry with a flat laundry bat, all while waving her hand over the surface of the table, the dust collecting itself as if swirled by a magnetic tornado.

No use for the duster at all.

“You think you’re clever,” I say, getting close behind her.

“I think you agree.”

I think she’s pretending. Her smile looks the same but it’s manufactured, tied to a puppeteer’s strings. There’s a flicker in her eyes that tells me she doesn’t agree at all. I’m prepared to tell her that she’s assured and confident, but she already knows. This happens: I’ll catch a sudden recognition dawning on her face, like she’s reminding herself of something, and I’m left to guess what it could be.

We’re interrupted by a loud sneeze that drifts from the other side of the hall, followed by a hack and a cough, finishing with a sniffle.

She’s panicked. It sounds like a case of the common cold, and nothing to be worried about, but that’s Aqua. I follow her lead, which takes us to no one else but Ven, who is wiping his face. A faint trace of dust rides on the strands of his hair. Actually, there’s dust everywhere except on the tapestry he’s responsible for.

“Ven!” Aqua gapes. “What happened here?”

He takes a look around the chaos and gives a mere shrug, rubbing the back of his hand on his pants. “I was dusting.”

“You were using magic,” she says like she’s scolding him, despite doing the same minutes ago.

“What did you expect me to do?” He gestures towards the tapestry—the Master’s favorite, of a round cat lounging on a throne and announcing a toast with his goblet—like it’s a mountain to climb. “Get a ladder?”

“What a mess,” Aqua mutters with a flitter of her fingers, shepherding the dust together so it’s easier to collect.

“I’m not finished.”

“Master’s orders,” I say and Aqua doesn’t spare me a glare. Yes, I find that funny.

Ven ushers her aside. “Come on, let me help.”

“I got it,” she says, fixated on the job. Always the one to do and still can’t learn to accept a helping hand.

“Aqua.”

“Ven?”

I know better than to get in the middle of this.

Ven generates gusts of air with a wave of both of his arms—a terrible idea when Aqua’s conducting from the other side—and the dust grows darker into a thick cloud of smoke. He stares at his handiwork with a dropped jaw. I’m shocked too. Where did all of that come from?

Aqua grunts as she tries to calm the storm, Ven mimicking her movements.

“Let it go,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder.

“It will all fall to the floor.”

“There’s too much pressure building up from the bottom.”

“It’s under control.”

“It’s going to explode.”

She pouts (stars, it’s cute) but of course, only half-listens to me. Moving her palms parallel to the floor, she makes a gesture as if to compress. With Ven slacking, it billows low to the floor and then sweeps up.

The tapestry flaps upward, revealing a door.

Ven’s the first to cough. “What’s that?”

Aqua and I stare at each other. We’ve hidden behind every single one of these tapestries when we played as kids. There shouldn’t be a door.

“Do you think it’s magic leftover from—” I start to ask.

She shakes her head. “It can’t be. I returned everything to its rightful place.”

“Then what is this supposed to mean?”

Discouraged by our hushed tones, Ven stops himself from turning the knob, waiting for our approval.

“It could have been hidden by a spell,” Aqua suggests.

“Oh.”

We’re quiet. Spells last for as long as the spellcaster is alive.

“The Master would have called it an inheritance,” I say. “Don’t you think?”

One by one, we peek into the secret room. Ven is eager to open the door but only pushes it a sliver. It creaks with determination to wake everyone inside. Aqua is second, looking over him. I’m last, searching the corners for signs of movement.

It’s empty except for a rack of white robes, stacks of books on a desk, a chess board, and a forest-colored couch. On the opposite wall sits a huge wardrobe next to a reading stand, displaying an open tome on what may have been the last page the Master read. An old-fashioned wall clock with visible parts and spinning characters counts the time, looking peculiarly like the Land of Departure. The sun shines through a window—though this would be an extra. All the windows on both sides of the castle are accounted for. You wouldn’t be able to see this room from the outside.

“Terra,” Aqua gasps, “look at these books.”

Most of them are titled in an ancient language. “They’re from Scala.”

“We could probably find Sora with these,” she says, flipping through one.

Some of the robes are sewn with patches of snake skin, others stained with faded off-yellow, each a varying size for a growing teenager. I take the largest—it smells like dust—and slip it on. Almost a perfect fit, though I would’ve preferred it longer.

“It looks good on you,” Aqua says, coming to my side.

I smile at the floor, imagining what the Master would have said, how large his smile would have been under that bushy mustache, like the day he gave me his belt buckle and told me it would be a nice touch. Aqua inspects a fraying seam on the shoulder.

“I can fix that,” she whispers. I let her pull it off me, and she dotingly folds it over the book she decides to take with her.

“Whoa.”

We drop our thoughts and turn to Ven, who’s helped himself to the wardrobe, stupefied at shelves of potions in glass flasks. Ugly colors, weirdly shaped, totally bizarre.

“These aren’t any potions I recognize,” Aqua says, placing her stack on the couch and investigating the shelf with her arms crossed.

None of them are labeled. “Maybe they’re lost knowledge,” I say, still thinking about her compliment. How often does she think I look good? “Can you imagine what kind of magic they’re packed with?”

Ven glances at the open book on the reading stand. “Let’s see.”

I join him, watching him flip through crudely drawn illustrations of odd shapes. We both snigger.

“Look through walls,” he reads before turning to the next page. “Neverending sweat. Turn a face blue. Glue lips together… This one says you can unglue them by washing your mouth with soap.”

“Lost knowledge.” Aqua scoffs.

“But who made them?” I ask. “The Master?”

Aqua rolls her eyes. “Please.”

“This is his secret room.”

“It looks like his handwriting,” Ven says, trying to keep his smile tiny. Trying. “Kind of.”

The O’s and the T’s certainly have their curls, just the way Eraqus would have done them. The Y’s are similar too, if a bit exaggerated and large. As Ven turns more pages, all of which are yellowed and chipped at the edges, I realize the drawings match the shapes of different vials, equipped with descriptions of colors.

“I think Ven’s right.”

Aqua throws a look (Forget it) and rolls her eyes again. It’s her favorite thing to do. “We’re talking about the Master here. He wouldn’t waste his time on something like this.”

“I got an idea!” Ven beams, nudging me on the elbow. “Why don’t we try some? Guess what they are before we look in the book?”

The only person who stiffens is Aqua.

“Look at her face.” Ven points. “She thinks we’re savages.”

Aqua doesn’t say anything, but it’s possible.

I cock my head. “If the Master were here, he would have gotten a kick out of this.”

“Terra—”

“Regardless of who made them.”

She drums her fingers on her forearm. “If it makes you happy,” she mumbles. It was subtle, but it was there.

“I’ll go first!” Ven leaps over the reading stand. There’s a rainbow of the most unsavory colors. The neon, the dull, the too realistic. “This one looks perfect.” He grabs a thin vial of liquid that I could mistake for vomit: a faded, rotten lime green, and drinks it all in one swish.

Following the last gulp, he withers to the floor, flailing and begging for it to stop.

I’m searching through the book for an answer.

Aqua throws herself to her knees. “What’s wrong?”

Ven giggles, cradling his stomach then scratching his back. “Don’t touch me.” He gasps in between painful howls of laughter. “It makes it worse.”

She carries his head to her lap anyway. She wouldn’t be Aqua if she isn’t indulging in some deep-seated instinct to assume we’re not healthy before assuring herself that we are.

I tap my finger onto a page. “Tickling potion. ‘Give this to your favorite person,’ it says.”

“I’m going”—Ven inhales—“to bring the Master”—inhales again—“back to life just to… kill him again.” He deteriorates into another round of wheezing, hugging himself tight and turning over into a fetal position.

“It’s too juvenile for the Master,” Aqua reminds me.

This page is written with the same suspicious calligraphy but I hold my tongue. To ease the look of worry on Aqua’s face, I step forward. “My turn.”

“You can’t be serious,” Aqua says.

“Relax. There’s no such thing as death by tickling.”

Aqua jerks to say something but stops herself. I’m guessing, Let me have at it and you’d think otherwise. Nothing that she’d say with Ven in the room.

Ven rubs his eyes and sighs—it’s shaky and long, but it’s an improvement. “Can I try another one?”

The first potion to catch my attention is this wide, stubby one filled with what looks like dark mud.

“Terra.”

Her warning makes me think of the slight possibility of developing diarrhea from this. I stare into her eyes as I swallow a gulp of it anyway, much to her horror and much to my enjoyment. Her expressions are a never-ending list of entertainment.

The potion is too smooth to be mud. It tastes spicy, a kick without any flavor. At first, I don’t feel anything, until a zap of electricity rides up my spine. Gooseflesh covers the backs of my calves up to my neck.

By the time I realize that I’m shivering, Aqua has my face in her hands. Her fingertips are warm when she brushes my hair.

“I’m fine.” A white cloud puffs out of my lips.

Ven is cackling. Not from the tickling, that may have stopped as soon as he got distracted, but he’s pointing his finger at me.

“As fine as a monkey walking naked into the snow,” she quips, wrapping the robe around my shoulders and rubbing my biceps.

“You can’t say, I told you so,” I say, my voice reverberating. “You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“I know you don’t regret it.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

She scoffs, smirking. Her eyes drop to some faraway conversation with herself.

“What are you thinking?” My teeth clatter.

She raises her eyebrows, playing coy.

“Whoever made this freezing potion,” Ven interrupts, having dragged himself to the book and is now leaning on it with both hands to stay stable, “wanted to test it. See if it could preserve vital organs.” He slowly nods (as if anything in this book makes sense).

“I guess we’ll find out if it worked when I die.” The tremors hurt, rupturing in blows down my torso. Aqua mutters a spell and a fiery glow halos her hands, hovering near my skin. My own personal hearth. I can’t help but imagine doing the same for her one day.

“Anyone else want to take a crack at it or should I drink another one?” Ven says.

Aqua glances over her shoulder and is actually considering it .

“No way,” I say.

She ignores me, reading each bottle as though they’d spill their secrets.

I lean towards her ear, though she’s already swatting me away. “Do you need help choosing one?”

She grabs a curvy vial that looks like it has hips and is filled to the brim with pure white. Defiantly turning to stick her nose up at me, she proudly drinks (a sip), grimacing through the taste. But she keeps tall. As long as the nose stays up.

“Oh shit,” Ven mutters.

“Language,” I say.

We wait for the effect. Nothing happens.

“What do you feel?” I ask.

“Nothing. I feel normal.”

“You’re a liar,” Ven says, throwing pages and scanning pictures, then rustling back to see if he skipped any.

“I am not. Maybe it’s expired.” As soon as she says it, her eyes go wide.

“That doesn’t make any sense. We had immediate effects. Maybe you should drink some more?”

“Don’t be silly.” Aqua shuts the bottle with its topper and gently places it back in its spot. “This was a foolish game, anyway.”

I have to scoff—that’s harsh, even coming from Aqua. “Then why go for it?”

“Because I admire you so much, Terra, when you’re brave enough to go after something I wouldn’t come near. Because I have to match you, maybe outmatch you sometimes, if you get on my nerves. Because sometimes I get scared that I’ve missed out on so much, and I can’t help but wonder if our childhood may be missing something. After everything we’ve lost, I don’t want to be scared of being silly anymore. But… What if I’m a boring slog? I don’t want to be a bore. I want to be daring and fun like you and Ven,” she says in rapid tossed word salad, her hands getting animated the more she talks, pressed to answer questions we didn’t ask.

Ven and I have nothing to say.

“I…” Aqua fusses with her sleeves. “I don’t know why I unloaded all of that.”

“Dramatic, much?” Ven says.

She fists her hips. “Dramatic is when you whine about your dreams so you can avoid chores thinking I wouldn’t call your bluff.”

Ven gapes. “Aqua, you’re mean.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She hides her face behind her hands, taking them to her heart and bowing. “Ven, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Something weird is going on.” I take the helm at searching the book, shuffling pages in chunks until I find one with stark white paint, in the shape of curves and waves. “Ven,” I whisper when I read the description. When he looks at me, his impish smile stretches with lists of ideas. I’m right there with him.

A stuffy silence fills the room when we recite it: Truth potion. The person who drinks it cannot help but to answer questions honestly.

Aqua steps back.

She bolts out of the room, knocking some of the books over.

“Get her!” Ven yells.

My muscles protest when I take off, stiff and sluggish as though I’ve experienced a whole winter outside. Aqua dashes through an open doorway and thrusts her arm out. The doors slam together, refusing to let me through. Ven’s going to have to find another way around. This won’t stop me and she knows it. I slip through a growing portal of darkness—the swirls that lick me would have been cold, but I’m numb—and I come out the other side. There’s certain tricks that come from being the poster boy for Darkness; it’s helpful in fights.

This part of the castle leads to the common areas. I know where she’ll be.

Aqua is splitting her attention between mixing batter in a large wooden bowl and running a soapy dishwash in the kitchen sink. When I approach her, she makes a point to put her finger on her lips.

Stars, it’s so hard not to laugh. “You’re not going to—”

She grunts, shaking her head furiously at me. No questions.

With my elbows propped on the countertop, I watch her scrub a dish. More than she normally does, actually, a little therapy session to take her mind off the fact that I’m relishing this moment. It’s satisfying how she suddenly remembers that she’s heating the oven, throwing herself across the kitchen to check the temperature.

She points to the spice cupboard next to me, and gets more enthusiastic when I open it. Apparently, she wants the cinnamon.

“I think vinegar would help better with what you’re doing.” I nod my head to the sink.

With the flick of her hand, water pouring out of the faucet changes direction and splashes me in the face.

“Am I annoying?” I snigger. I had to.

A tick in her shoulders—her body has no choice but to react. “That’s a stupid question.” Every word is pulled out of her teeth. Normally, she’d say, No, how could you even imagine that!

I dip my finger into the suds and plant one large print on her forehead in between the eyes, where she’s glaring so hard, they are crossed.

“How about now?”

“The worst,” she groans, slamming her hands into the bath. She takes a washcloth to dry them and wipes her forehead. Afterwards, she hands it to me.

“Think of it as an opportunity to get to know the real you.” I dry my face.

“You know me already.”

“Do I know everything, though?”

“No.” This potion doesn’t miss a beat.

Ven is panting by the time he enters, climbing a stool behind the counter and peering over the edge like a small child. He’s doing that on purpose, goading her into playing along. He asks me, “Can we?”

She groans.

I’m back on my elbows so I can look up at her and give her the same puppy dog eyes. Between glancing at the two of us, she can’t stand it. She wants to make us happy, she’s always been like that. Then again, she probably also wants to bash our heads together and leave us with headaches. One of the two would amuse her better.

“How about we ask her three questions only? We shouldn’t drive her crazy.”

She chuckles, that little smile of hers growing and reassuring and there. That’s my girl. Turning off the sink, she folds the washcloth and brings her hands together as though we’re in class. “Three questions each. Is that okay?”

Wow. “More than I asked for.”

“I already have one,” Ven says, sitting on his knees. “Do you hate Lea?”

“A little. But I’m working on it.”

Ven snorts and drops his face onto the counter. How many times have we asked her that and got the, Don’t be ridiculous. Like I said, he’s formidable. “I knew it.”

“He does his missions with the least amount of effort possible. Takes the easiest route to build his technique. Efficiency, he calls it,” she says, letting out the hot pressure she’s been keeping to herself with relief. “He also calls me, Teach. Who does that?”

Of all the times I’ve expected Aqua to snap at someone, she holds herself back when it comes to Lea, giving him tight smiles to zip it all up. “Ouch,” I say. “He’s been working so hard on a gift to thank you for working with Isa.”

She grimaces. “At least he has good taste in men? Isa does have a respectable work ethic.”

I pat her hand. Aqua’s usually the one to blow the kettle first, but there’s ways to connect people who may not see eye to eye the first time. Maybe I can be a buffer. “Next time you meet, I could go with you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she whispers.

“Lea would find it hilarious, honestly.” Ven waves his hand as if it’s no big deal. “I bet he’d give you a note with your gift. It would say, Thanks for everything. I hate you, too, Teach .”

“Okay, my turn,” I say, resting my chin on my palm. She studies me, too, though I’d like to believe I could keep a poker face. “Do you sometimes steal my cologne?”

“Yes.”

Her bluntness throws me back. “To wear ?”

“Yes,” she says as though it’s obvious and crosses her arms. Duh.

“Hey, that’s two questions,” Ven says.

“Sorry.” I take one more glance to see if I could gleam any more clues from her facial expressions, but she keeps her nose high. As long as the nose stays up.

“I have to think of a really good one.” Ven holds his chin, looking more serious than he’s been since the Keyblade War. “Ever farted then blamed Terra for it?”

“Ugh.” Aqua quivers, her knuckles bleaching. She throws her face over her shoulder and stares scars into the wall. “Yes of course, didn’t we all?”

“Come on, I could’ve answered that,” I say (though after all these years, it’s validating to know it’s not a blame game anymore). I nudge her with my shoulder. “Justice does feel pretty good.”

“Ask me something better,” she says after smacking my bicep. Her face is as ripe as sunburn.

Questions that give her more control. I could do that. “Is there anything you’ve been needing to say but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

The tension in her face drops. It leaves something pale and disappointed in its place, a faraway look. I shouldn’t have asked; whatever this fear is, it’s meant for me. “Yes,” she whispers.

I stand pin-straight, the air in the room thinning, as though the Darkness has opened a hole and is sucking all the sun away. Ven does the same. The other Keybearers will stare at their cuticles, or fumble and cut themselves out of the group when they’re upset or hurt or sorry. Eraqus forged a protocol out of us. When we witness or cause harm, we recite what we’ve done and its effects. We bow when we apologize.

So far, we’ve been home for one hundred and seventy five days. Never expected it to take this long. I open my mouth to speak.

“Don’t,” she says softly. “I know what you’re going to ask.”

I would have pleaded with her to let me apologize, and I would have met her dismissal anyway: No, Terra, it’s not necessary. We’ve been through it all. We should enjoy what we have. She means well; the relaxation and the mundane tasks are good for all of us. Even when we were younger, Aqua was generous at her expense, sparing nuts from her brownie to bake them into a tarte, knowing I hate brownies. She’d look at the brighter side of things (More fudge for me!), and stick her tongue out. She’s been my smile, but she gives too much, and we still need this conversation.

“So what is the answer?”

She lowers her eyes to the counter, then wills them back up at me. “I blame myself.”

Aqua.

Ven sighs. “I should give you guys some space.” He treads away, keeping his footsteps minimal, meticulously turning the handle so it’d make the least noise possible. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I see him press his ear against the door before it shuts. If he’s going to listen in, that’s fine with me. Whatever she and I have to say to each other would affect all three of us.

“You blame—”

“I would be… lying.” She simpers, shaking her head. “If I said I never blamed you. There were moments I did. How and why. But I had enough endless nights where those reasons circled back to me. What I could have done to make it better. To save you,” she croaks, wiping her eyes. “To be a best friend. You needed that. Ven needed one, too. And I wasn’t.”

Aqua scrubs the already-clean counter with that dry washcloth, creating a rhythm that fills the silence. The oven is now heated, and I take the cinnamon and pour two spoonfuls of it into a beaker, our backs to each other. Add cups of sugar for her, some cocoa, a pinch of vanilla while she drills the grouts in between the tiles.

“I wasn’t much of a best friend myself, either.”

“You were hurt and defeated.”

“I was stupid.”

“You are not.”

I scoff, reaching over and pausing her. My smile is meant to be gentle, but it feels so plastic. “Aqua, do you think I’m stupid?”

“I don’t.”

I’ve expected her to half-smirk, where she tells me, Sometimes. “Really?”

“You overthink,” she simply puts. “But you assume the best. You know, that makes you a better person than me.”

Ha. No. “No. I’m not better than you. Not by a long shot.”

She hums. “I’m just correct more often.”

“But I left you.”

“And I kicked your trust in me in the shins. Are we going to keep count of all the unfriendly things we’ve done? How different would it have been if I didn’t accuse you of things that weren’t true?”

“How different would it be if I had just stayed with you?” I realize I shouldn’t have asked the moment I finish.

In a trance, Aqua inspects the beaker with the spices and sugars I’ve concocted, deciding what I’d done is good enough and dumping them into her unmixed dough, stirring, giving her hands something to do, while I wait for the onslaught. “Probably avoided the last twelve years.” I wince. “Or it could have made no difference. We could have ended up the same, or worse, or better.”

I say, “You don’t believe that,” before stopping myself.

“I was taught to respect Xehanort, too.”

“We were taught to recognize the Darkness.”

“Which I also failed at.”

“Clearly.”

“I did. I looked for it inside you where I should have placed my faith instead. I regret every moment I did.” She puts the bowl down, a slap of wood against marble. “We don’t help ourselves by obsessing about it a million times.”

“But you’d help me if you let me apologize. To you especially.”

She whips around with nothing to retort, fresh tears short of falling. “To me especially?”

“Ven deserves something of his own. Please.”

She drops her hands together. Swallows. Nods.

I bow, watching droplets land near my shoes. “I should have been there for you. I should have been stronger. I should have realized what was happening sooner, and I thought I did. I thought I did what I could, and I was there with you in the Graveyard, but it wasn’t enough, and for all the years I didn’t know, I should have found a way to learn and pay you back for what you’ve sacrificed for me. I should have eased your pain, I should have brought you back to the Light. I was focused on myself when I should have lifted you up, and I disappeared when you needed me most. I should have done more, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Silence passes the time and I look up to see what she thinks. She’s wetting the washcloth, dabbing my eyes. “Do you feel better?” she asks.

“Kind of.” I’m beat up after taking all those shots, but I’m lighter, free to breathe without the nagging suspicion that I don’t deserve to.

“One of the things I wished for when I was in the Realm of Darkness was to smell sugar again. I wanted to hear you give me a list of reasons why it’s bad for my body, and I wanted to tell you why it’s good for the heart.” I let her dab my cheeks, the dampness frigid against my skin. “Now that I’m back home, I don’t need any other wish granted.” She sniffs, about to pour the batter into its mold, but then flicks the oven off exasperatedly. “I forgot. I have to wait for the dough to rise.” For some reason that finally breaks her. It tears me apart as well, and I have to hold her shoulder so we don’t rip down the middle.

“Please don’t cry,” I say, offering the washcloth. “I care too much about you to sit here and watch you cry.”

She stops. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” I let go and stare at her blended mix, smooth as cream.

“That’s not fair,” she says, throwing the washcloth onto the counter. “I have no choice with what I say. You could at least answer me honestly.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you cry anymore.” Nor do I want to tell her the truth. Instead I hide it on the back of my neck, where I rub into it so it doesn’t spill over. And yet, that makes me feel more guilty now than I have in weeks.

“I should make you swallow a truth potion.”

“I wanted us to be equals.” She saves her usual response and waits for me to continue. I close my eyes. “Go through all the same experiences with you. We were supposed to stick together, do everything together. Failing the Mark of Mastery took all of that away from me. Or at least it felt that way at the time. And I wanted more. I wanted…” My hand finds nothing as it waves in the air searching for the words to spell it out. “I don’t know what to say. Everything I’ve done and didn’t do pale in comparison to you.”

“We’re not doing this. We’re not comparing ourselves.”

“No, I mean…” What the stars am I supposed to say? “You’re more important to me than you understand.”

“And you’re just as important to me.”

“No… it’s different with me.” And I’ve said too much, Aqua holding her elbows and expecting me to continue. There’s no other trail to go down than the one I’ve started. “I meant what I said at the preliminary feast.”

“Excuse me?”

The feast where the Master celebrated our achievements, announcing that we’re at last ready for the final test. Where Ven and I squeezed ourselves into suits and he complained the entire night about being itchy. Where I spent it staring at her dress. When I said she looked pretty and then avoided her for the rest of the party.

I don’t say anything about that night and she hears something anyway.

“That’s why…” She glosses over me with wide eyes as the realization makes me look like a stranger. “You should have said something to me.”

“You can’t be serious.” I wave her away.

“But all these years, I didn’t know.”

Good, if we’re talking about the same thing. “I couldn’t have told you anything.”

“Then how was I supposed to figure that out?”

What are we talking about now? “What exactly did you expect me to do?”

“You should have kissed me.” She covers her mouth, wincing at what slipped out. She keeps her chin high anyway, casually crossing her arms and pretending that her face hasn’t reddened the deep shade staining her cheeks. As long as it stays up.

We pass an unspoken conversation between each other, frozen and unwilling to move.

Did you just—?

I did.

I manage to exhale. “You’re right.”

There’s a moment of shock on her face before I hold her and lean forward. It happens so quick that I don’t register what she tastes like before I realize that I’m clamping my hands on her biceps, two bent rods leaning on each other.

“That was awful,” I say.

“No, it’s—” she laughs.

“Bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I always thought it’d go different.”

“Always?”

Well, I’ve run out of words. “I guess.” When I let her go, she reaches for my chest and lifts onto her toes, kissing me back but with care and intention this time, filling my lips with hers. They taste like Aqua, smell like her shampoo. They’re softer than her hands and face, sweet enough for me to want more. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands until I settle them in the sway of her back. I let her take the lead, take another kiss, tug at my neck. She trembles from the frozen touch of my skin and from the hold of my hands on her body. My muscles are getting warm, too warm but I like it and I think she knows. Earlier this morning, I held her this close, but this is closer. It’s easy and difficult at the same time.

Then I remember and pull away. “Ven is listening to us.”

There’s a bump on the door as it’s pushed when he kicks himself off, heavy footsteps running down the hall.

Aqua looks like she’s touched feces. “Ven!”

I follow her, wondering if she’s going to summon her Keyblade but that’s because of how fast she’s walking, like she has a mission, no Heartless left standing. We turn a corner, down a hall of antique vases and ancient cupboards carved from our first masters. Wood creaks nearby.

She holds her palm up like she’s holding a chalice, and flames lick the cupboard closest to us until it rattles and spits Ven out. He scrambles onto his feet and brandishes his finger, testing our distance as if he’d poke us in a duel.

“I still have my last question and it’s in your best interest not to threaten me.”

“Oh really? Tell me again how you’re going to protect yourself when you sleep,” she says.

He grounds himself before giving his performance of, “Do you want to see Terra naked?”

Aqua trembles from her head to her knees, her cheeks blotting a strong shot of red. She throttles forward and cups both of her hands onto her mouth like she’s going to sneeze. What sounds like a loud goose honk blows out as the answer.

“That was awesome.” Ven slaps his thigh, turning on his heel and leaving a trail of giggles.

I’m scared to say anything, in case she honks at me. So I wait. There’s just no way to make myself seem small, or leave without disturbing her. Maybe if I hold my breath, she’d feel like she has privacy. She’s panting, giving me side glances but never looking directly at me, that nose of hers wilting towards the floor.

I open my mouth to say something—

She growls and I clutch my lips together. Aqua pulls her Gummiphone out of her pocket, jabbing a message.

Mine rings.

Aqua

Let’s find a potion that dyes his hair pink

She clears her throat, before flipping it over and typing again.

Aqua

Don’t tell him it was my idea

“Okay,” I say, testing the word. Even though I soften it, it still bangs like a gong. I don’t know what else to do except smile at her. She grimaces back, no doubt the last several words spoken still ringing in her ears, just as they do in mine. I even hesitate when I hold her elbow—would it ever be the same, or will every touch mean something different? I don’t voice those questions.

She moves by reflex: first to flinch, then to hold me by my elbow, mirroring me, which isn’t the most comfortable position. She follows my forearm to my hand, knitting our fingers together, and we stand there, adjusting how they fit. Mine are long and thick, dwarfing and burying hers, an oversized pouch for a gem. They fit perfectly, I think.

“We can find something better,” I say, looking for anything to distract her. “There’s also those books to read, and the robe to fix. The brownies you’re making—”

“It’s supposed to be cinnamon bread,” she mumbles.

Yech. “Nothing I’d eat anyway.”

Her chuckle is partial, contorted and pressed.

“I can make some beef jerky for everyone. Spice it up,” I say. She hides an amused whimper behind her hand and massages her cheek. “We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

She nods, offering me a relieved but crooked smile.

I don’t know if we should walk the castle hand in hand, so I splay it between her shoulder blades and lead the way. We walk in silence, and I’m okay with that if it helps her. No questions, her head up high like everything is back to normal. We steal glances and do a terrible job at hiding our giggles behind small talk, which is botched and jittery anyway, but there’s not much to say without asking, So… how old were you when you realized?

One of these nights, I’ll tell her I’d like to see her naked, too, when the time is right and the truth comes easier.

#terraqua #terra #aqua #ventus #kingdom hearts fanfic #kh fanfic #oooooooh #here is my attempt at domestic fluff #what is everyone going to think of me #my fic

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byakuyasdarling · 3 years

Text

Art Trades are Now CLOSED

Thank you to everyone who wanted to trade! My spots are full for the moment, but I’ll leave the post up as I’ll most likely copy the information for the next time I open art trades :D

Art trades are open for you self-shippers! I have 3 slots for art trades. To claim one, you MUST DM me. You DO NOT need to be a mutual of mine, I will follow you in any case if you want to participate.

All you need to do is tell me what you want me to draw, and how you want it done. (DMing me a link or something to your S/Is reference or an image of them is a must. Showing me an artwork of your S/I and F/O together will be helpful as well.)

I will be offering:

Waist-up self-ship artwork of you and your desired F/O in my normal art style —— (Digital, fully coloured) OR (Small traditional watercolour painting) OR (Lead Sketch)

Waist-up self-ship artwork of you and your desired F/O in my chibi artstyle — (Digital, fully coloured) OR (Small traditional watercolour painting) OR (Lead Sketch)

A bust drawing of your S/I exclusively — (Digital, fully coloured) OR (Small traditional watercolour painting) OR (Lead Sketch)

Examples:

— My artsyle, Digital, Fully coloured

— My artsyle, Traditional watercolour

— My artstyle, Lead Sketch

— My chibi style, Digital, fully coloured

— My style, Digital, fully coloured (BUST)

What I would like in return:

Literally just a drawing of my S/I (her proper design is below) and Byakuya from Danganronpa THH.

I’m not fussed on any details: full body, half-body, waist-up — do whichever of those you please.

I prefer a digital artwork that is shaded (especially of you ask me to do a fully coloured digital artwork in my style, that took me above 13 hours to complete, even if it doesn’t show lmao).

Please don’t think your art isn’t enough or anything! I have the same issues with my art but I assure you, your art is brilliant. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I didn’t think this community is full of talent.

My S/I ref:

It is first come, first serve. Once you claim a spot, your @ will be displayed here:

1 — @elusive-ivory [COMPLETED] — 14th of December

2 — @roxizawa [COMPLETED] — 21st of December

3 — @nagitos-hope [COMPLETED] — 18th of January

I really hope I can trade art with some of you! Btw, each request may take up to 3 days, I will keep you updated if it is taking longer than expected.

Please reblog this to spread this around as well! I’m really not sure about the success of this to be honest.

[DNI if you ship and post about Nae//gami. Block me immediately and leave.]

#selfshipping #selfship art #self ship art #f/o x s/i #s/i community #art trades #self ship community #Freya talks | 💙

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latitudesunknown · 4 years

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Day 51 in Tiny Haven

Today in Tidy Haven: never trust a fox about fine art, catching fauna is my life, and Keke’s concert.

Because Tidy Haven is in a fantasy world where construction works never get stalled, the museum’s extension is already done!

(1) Marie is even more excited about it than I am, which is saying a lot.

Abraham, always the thoughtful friend, has sent some wisdom my way.

(2) If I do a semi-regular newsletter about Tiny Haven there will totally be a column called “Abraham’s Life Lessons“

But wait, something’s odd...

Look, on the left, staring at me creepily... Rounard is back!

He tells me he’s fallen in love with Tiny Haven (no wonder, we’re awesome), and he’s decided to establish a trading stall here (as it turns out, it’s only partially true, he won’t be there every day).

(3)

And because we’re like family, he obviously will only accept to deal with me.

(4)

Even more excited at the prospect of stepping on his boat than I am at the works of art he’s peddling, I run to the creek and step inside.... a very, very dark boat. “Is that fox going to murder me and bury my body under the floorboards”-dark.

(5) In hindsight, the darkness is most probably to make the forgeries less noticeable. 😒

(6) I have to say I thoroughly enjoy Rounard’s bamboozling sweet-talk, whoever worked on it is an artist.

The works of art look stunning, so I decide to purchase this one for Thibou:

Seriously. So pretty. I hope later he might sell some of my personal favourites!

Thrilled with my new purchase, I run to the museum to check out the new art gallery, which is, as I suspected, at the top of the stairs.

Of course, right now everything is empty, but even so, this is very impressive.

I swear just looking at this I can hear the sound of my footsteps echoing off the walls.

I manage to locate the only painting there is, and am pleased to see it comes with proper identification (and a little blurb about its creation).

You’d think I would have given the new painting to Thibou, but I actually want to hold onto it for a bit, so I only go see Thibou with a new guppy I’ve fished. The guppy was cute, but as always, Thibou manages to be even cuter.

(7) I read an article the other day where the woman testing the game complained about how Thibou would never shut up, and I’m still miffed about it days later. How dare she. How dare she.

What’s more, catching that guppy finally brings some vegetation to the tiny fish tank, which is lovely to see.

i could stare at them for hours.

In the main square, as promised, Keke is there bright and early, strumming on his guitar.

Nacer’s also there, listening.

(8) lmao

Keke will only accept song requests starting from 6pm, so in the meantime, I go about my day, and thanks to Lili, who had disturbed the ants living on my discarded rotten turnip, I catch...

(9) I’m gonna go with a literal translation here but obviously it’s all about the alliterations.

... a fly! It was buzzing around the turnip, and now that I’ve caught it, I find it so damn weird that I never thought about flies before. Maybe because they’re not what you think of as “cute” critters. But they’re so ubiquitous, I can’t believe I didn’t realize they weren’t around in the game.

I wonder if I’ll be able to catch lizards at some point. They’re neither insect nor fish, but they’re small and lovely... 🦎 And after all, the hermit crab isn’t an insect, and it’s still in the museum!

Talking about fauna, I finally realize there’s another way to check out all the species I’ve caught, and what a breathtaking view!

😍

😍😍

Better late than never, I guess!

In the afternoon, I redecorate my living-room.

Those fruit carpets remind me of the fruit-shaped place-mats we had as kids, and it actually makes me resolve to go visit my friends’ islands at long last, in the hopes I can get some new fruits and therefore make more carpets in the same theme.

I end my day with Keke’s concert, which ends up being a very intimate affair as everyone else is otherwise occupied.

He asks me how I’m feeling, so I tell him I’m feeling a little blue. Confinement ends in one day, after all, and it’s so weird to think about.

(10) Thank you, Keke.

Subtitles

(1) The museum's new art gallery is opening today! (2) Little question, Waffle... You know that thing when the sun disappears and everything gets dark and we get bored? What if it didn't get that dark and we didn't get that bored... Wouldn't it be great? Good night, Abraham (3) My ship is anchored on the north coast. I'm almost done fixing the leaks. A nasty story. (4) I need someone I can trust, someone who's as good as family... (5) And to reach that price, I'm giving you a discount, a rebate AND a cut rate! (6) I could make you pay full price, but I've eaten a delicious peach and I'm in a good mood. (7) Do you think they have a pageant for the cutest guppy... and if they do, d'you think I could get an invitation? (8) I've been told yelling is a great workout for your abs. And also that my neighbours are complaining... (9) You've caught a fly! Touch the mouth of the dodgy fly who takes a shower and goes to bed. (10) OK. Here's something to say goodbye to the blues, rotten luck and shitty moods: Keke's waltz!

#animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #long post #my post

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knife-em0ji · 4 years

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evens for the ask game! (or as many of the evens as you wanna do lmao)

oh ho ho i’ll do all of them !!

2. how many houseplants in your room, and what kinds are they?

I don’t have many in my room proper since i’m in the basement lol, but I have a snake plant, a philodendron, and a mysterious cycad whose tag i lost but i bought at a botanical garden lmfao

4. an account on social media whose posts make you smile

this is a trade secret but i’ll give u one guess ;^)

6. how you get relaxed when you’re struggling to sleep

I either read or watch reddit text to speech videos bc i’m a freak w brain worms

8. if you were going to write a non-fiction book on any topic, what would it be?

HHHHNGNGHHHH i would write an entire expose treatise on the saga of jennifer cornet, ranging from FF7 house to tattle-crime.org, with asides for the sarah saga and otherkin culture in general....it would be my magnum opus

10. something you’ve created in the last year that you’re proud of (a playlist, a piece of art, some writing, a craft hobby, a social media account, etc)

oh ; ~ ; ....definitely my epic length bagginshield fic....i’ve been taking an extended break due to life stuff but i’m hoping to get back into it again ;;

12. if you could make a candle that smelt like anything, what would you pick?

my spice cabinet....it’s the best smell in the world....

14. an artist (of any kind) whose work you look forward to seeing

idk if this means something specific im looking forward to in the future or just in general ??? but im excited for orville peck’s new album lmfao...i was supposed to see green day, weezer, and fallout boy this summer in concert but idk if that’s going to happen anymore :^(

16. how you wake your body up when it’s feeling tired, achy or needs a stretch

Power through it, take my adhd meds, and guzzle cawfee lmfao

18. a book series you can always escape in

hhhhh i feel so stereotypical for saying this but lol lotr....or lindsey davis’ falco series?? idk thats been a recent fav of mine when i can gather the energy to read fiction lol

20. a skill you’ve picked up in the past few years

cooking, most def lol

22. if you were going to dye your hair any colour of the rainbow, what would you choose?

my life for the courage to dye my hair dark green that eventually fades a bit...

24. describe the most wacky, weird and wonderful at-home outfit you’ve put together

RED LINEN JUMPSUIT, BLACK KNEE SOCKS W ANATOMICAL LEG & FOOT ILLUSTRATIONS, DENIM BUTTON DOWN WORK SHIRT TIED AT THE WAIST, GREEN BOOTS !!! GAY CLOWN RIGHTS !!!

26. the film you watched most recently that you could watch again and again

T W I L I G H T !!!!!!!!!!! i watched it recently on my birthday and i rewatch it at least once a month ;;;

28. a good-will story you’ve heard on the news that’s made you feel hopeful

The story about the two 100 year old married jewish lesbians who have survived everything from the early flu epidemics to shoah, and are now quarantining together....they seem happy and fulfilled together, and it reminds me that all things shall pass, and love will survive.

30. a song that makes you want to have a boogie round your bedroom

i wanna be your lover by prince lmfao

#ask tag #twelvemagpies

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artofthero · 5 years

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i made a post about this a while ago, but it got lost when i accidentally deleted the blog and i don’t think anyone reblogged it (that i could find at least)

so! i wanted to share the backstories for my hetalia/DnD au that i have so far, as well as a bit of their time as party. it’s not a complete story and some parts are lifted from other DnD shows bc i haven’t actually played much myself and don’t really have any other inspiration lmao, but i remember it being a well-received au so hopefully someone will enjoy this!

e.stonia/eduard – high elf bard

the heir to a long-standing family of elven military officers who offered their servitude to their king. the alliance had lasted so long, the position was practically hereditary. eduard studied military tactics and strategy dutifully, along with his music, but when it came to practice, he froze in the face of battle. raivis’s quick-thinking saved him and his soldiers, but he surrendered the position, ashamed of his failure and filled with dread at the thought of getting soldiers killed by his poor command. his family was equally shamed and shunned him. he left for the life of a bard, cutting his hair to signify his exile. he grew up privileged but not spoiled and adapted quickly to the lifestyle of a traveling musician. he is a studious reader and skilled with the kannel, with which he casts his spells. as a caster, he is rarely in the midst of a battle, and has proved himself a brilliant tactician from this distance

l.atvia/raivis – halfling trickster rogue

one of many street urchins who grew up in a large city. he scraped a living together through a combination of thievery and deception, using his small stature to gain sympathy, posing as a human child even as an adult. he never stole for the sake of stealing, just for survival, but became quite adept at slipping authorities by navigating through tight, small spaces. despite his skill, the life of a thief made him anxious and paranoid, and he is often quite fearful. he generally covers this with bluster and snark but can break if pushed. his greatest vice is his drinking, but his biggest virtue is his loyalty. though he struggles to make friends due to his paranoia, once he makes them, he will fiercely stand by them in the face of danger

l.ithuania/toris – tiefling sorcerer

his family’s demonic bloodline had remained dormant for several generations, so when he was born with demonic features, it was a horrifying surprise and he was abandoned, perceived as a bad omen. he was found by a traveling family and adopted, raised by the eldest sister, a cleric named katya, alongside her younger siblings, ivan and natalia. they helped him train and hone his inherent demonic magic, eventually finding he could channel it safely through amber. he grew up cared for, but his presence often created trouble for his adopted family. the guilt eventually drove him to leave, thinking they were better off without him, and he became a mercenary sorcerer, facing a lot of hardships on the battle field. having seen some of the worst of life, he aims to be kind and peaceful when possible, but will fight when needed

a.merica/alfred – human champion fighter

a native resident of a small village that bordered on two rival principalities, along with his twin brother matthew. as part of a farming family, he grew up doing significant physical labor and became very strong and durable. frustrated at the abuse his friends and neighbors suffered at the hands of both principalities’ armies, he began standing up to the soldiers, picking fights and often ending up beaten, bloody, and lying in the dust. however, he remained determined to defend his home and neighbors, training and continuing to fight until both armies went from seeing him as a pest to a threat. along with his brother, he drove the soldiers out of the town, even facing off against the armies’ officers. together, they chased the armies out and warned the princes to leave their home out of their petty fighting, lest there be consequences. incredibly brave, bordering on foolishness, he will rush headlong into battle, especially if someone needs to be defended. he has a strong sense of justice and makes friends easily. his fighting style is as loud and boisterous as he is, swinging his fists wildly and wielding massive weapons with ease

c.anada/matthew – human druid

a native resident of a small village that bordered on two rival principalities, along with his twin brother alfred. as part of a farming family, he grew up close to nature and animals, finding a deep respect for the natural world. frustrated at the abuse his friends and neighbors suffered at the hands of both principalities’ armies, he slipped into the surrounding forests to learn magic from the local fae, mastering the druidic arts. he grew powerful, especially after finding his familiar – a massive white bear being dragged around by one of the armies as a living weapon, which matthew freed and befriended. along with alfred, he drove the soldiers from their town, and made clear to the princes that their home would no longer be a part of their fight. generally quiet and reserved, he tends to be calm and logical, but has a sharp sense of humor. his magic tends to manifest through trees and ice

u.kraine/katya – human cleric

a traveling healer, she fled a destructive fire in her hometown with her two younger siblings, only to return to find they had no home to go back to. softhearted and strong, she prefers not to fight but will stand firm when needed. she worries often for her family, and sometimes fails to take proper care of herself because of it. ultimately, all she wants is a happy and safe life for the people she cares for

r.ussia/ivan – human caster (warlock? wizard? unsure)

fleeing his burning home with his sisters as a child, ivan grew up without much, and became very protective of what he did have. after he and his siblings took in toris, he began to quietly resent the tiefling for his inherent skills in magic. when toris left, he became determined to keep his sisters safe, seeking magical artifacts to use as weapons. though usually amicable and friendly, something dark lurks under the surface, something a more malicious artifact seems to be taking advantage of

b.elarus/natalia - human rogue

forced to flee her home due to a devastating fire when she was very young, natalia has grown up going from place to place with her older brother and sister, never quite knowing what “home” was. she has difficulty forming attachments outside her family and can come across as distant and forceful. though not an assassin by trade, she certainly wields the knife and stealth skills of one. she cares deeply for her siblings, especially her brother, who she fears is going down a dark path

eduard and eaivis met first, while eduard was still living with his family. raivis attempted to pickpocket him but was caught by family guards and quite violently roughed up. eduard stepped in, saying he was just a street urchin who didn’t know better (which raivis didn’t appreciate but he did appreciate eduard getting the guards to stop). the family demanded some form of penance though, and raivis was “appointed” as eduard’s attendant (it was either that or a dungeon…). though he was bitter at first, eduard proved to be kind and sensible, and raivis grew fond of him. he was the one to snap eduard out of his shock in his first battle, keeping his senses about him so he could call a retreat

as a mercenary, toris was hired to fight in the same battle as eduard’s failed debut and consoled him at the camp after the retreat. following his exile, raivis chose to stay with eduard, much to the latter’s surprise, saying he had no idea how to live out in the world and he needed some street smarts to survive. they sought out Toris, still staying nearby, and the three set out to adventure

on their travels they came across alfred and matthew’s village, under siege from the two rival principalities who aimed to starve out the pests who kept interrupting their fight. they slipped through the blockades and helped the two brothers fight their way out from the inside, dealing significant damage to both armies. assured that the princes were gone for good, alfred and matthew joined up with them

the party met up with toris’ adopted family by chance in what was a relatively happy reunion, but toris noticed something was off. ivan had gotten a hold of an artifact called the ring of winter, which gave him elemental power over ice and snow but subtly manipulated him, and it was already making katya and natalia uneasy. before long, ivan’s paranoia and jealousy, exacerbated by the ring, got the better of him and he turned on the rest of the party, only breaking its grip when natalia managed to sever the finger on which he wore the ring

from here on, the story is still unknown. but, i may be adding to this in the future!

#hetalia #aph estonia #aph latvia #aph lithuania #aph america #aph canada #aph ukraine #aph russia #aph belarus #aph baltics #aph na bros #aph kieven rus siblings #dungeons and dragons #nations and dragons #not art

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lauranis · 5 years

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Okay so like, this is just a lot of word vomit but it’s a bunch of my Magnai x Kei ideas so far. Some I want to get art of eventually.

So this whole AU idea started with this:

(image of Magnai saying: Am I fated to live my life as a sun without a moon? Is there no Nhaama for me...?) He even looks down at the floor when he says it, it made me so sad for him :c THUS THIS AU WAS BORN \o/

AU: Kei never leaves the Steppes.

The basic idea is Kei travels to both the Dawn Throne and Reunion to trade for his tribe so he’s well known in both places. He’s met Magnai a few times but never in a one on one situation so it’s just been like a quick greeting from Magnai, while Kei ofc tries to flirt with him but fails since Magnai is always too busy thinking of other things. It’s not until later when Kei needs to request some aid with a large monster harassing his tribe that he and Magnai finally have a proper face to face and it’s then that Magnai finally gets to look him in the eyes and finds his Nhaama in Kei’s gaze and Kei finds something in Magnai’s (Kei’s tribe doesn’t really have the same belief of destined mate as the Oronir but he can’t deny there is something there). Things get a bit hectic after that in the sense of like, Magnai being overjoyed he finally found his moon so he calls for a feast to be arranged, Kei laughing about it but gently insisting his tribe really needs help. Magnai gathers a group of warriors and leads them himself in the hunt for the beast and takes Kei along too, so he can meet Kei’s tribe and parents proper before he keeps Kei with him at the Dawn Throne.

Then my brain went into angst mode for the baraam that the WoL partakes in. This is a copy paste from when I threw this wall of text at @arayan-ffxiv lol.

Kei was there during the battle when the WoL claims power. He'd be like, in the back trying to keep Magnai safe, healing other oronir as they were injured. But then he gets a spear through his gut from behind and it fucks him up real bad as it gets pulled back out. He collapses and it's good that he does cause his attacker takes that as him being done for and they move on. Kei tries to call out for help but no one is close enough to hear him over the sounds of battle and moments later he passes out, one arm reaching out on the ground towards Magnai.

And it wouldn't be until after everything that Magnai can go look for him, despite him being concerned about Kei being missing during the battle against the garleans. When he finally finds him, Kei is barely alive, blood soaking the ground around him. It's one of the rare times anyone sees Magnai lose his composure as he pulls Kei into his arms, one hand desperately pressing on the wound, screaming for healers. The clan healers take Kei from him, rushing him back to the Dawn Throne as they begin healing him and after hours of wait, they tell him that they mended his wound the best they could but he lost a lot of blood so he might not survive the night.

-- My brain didn’t really give me more details than that but he does ofc survive and Magnai stays glued to his bedside to care for him.

Tho my brain did try to give me a scenario where it was an oronir that tried to kill Kei, using the battle to hide that it was them. Said oronir being part of a small group that didn't approve of Kei cause he was from such a seemingly weak tribe and they didn't like that the partner of their leader was a man (not in the anti-gay way, just more old fashioned of how will they continue Magnai’s bloodline). Then my brain went on to having Magnai find this out by sheer accident as he was out to clear his head during the night a few days after the battle, with Kei still dangerously weakened and unconscious. He happened to come upon a small group, the attacker included, of oronir who were talking about the attempted murder of Kei and how they should go about trying to finish him off. Magnai had to fight his gut reaction of KILL THEM MAKE THEM PAY DESTROY THEM and without alerting them he put their faces to memory and left, beginning to plan a way to find out how many people were in on this murder plot.

Thankfully my mind gave up on this scenario lmao, so this is like, a non-canon part of the AU.

More copy paste from discord with Ara.

Continuing with this au, i got the idea of Kei heading back to his tribe for a visit but he was ambushed on the way there by a rival tribe of the oronir and they tried to use him as some kind of leverage/trade thing to get to Magnai, it didn't really work of course and Magnai gathered his warriors to go get Kei back. When they found him, he'd clearly been beaten and Magnai just went berserk and they ended up nearly wiping out the tribe for harming Kei. Magnai was injured during the battle and when they got back to the dawn throne, Kei watched over him as they both recovered. Kei however healed up faster since his injuries weren't as severe and one night while Magnai was still sleeping, he decided to return to his tribe, leaving a note behind. In the note he said that while he loved Magnai more than anything, he couldn't stand being the cause of such trouble for him by remaining by his side so he was returning to his people. Magnai of course didn't take this news well and nearly re-opened his wounds trying to go after Kei the next day. The tribe healers had to sedate him to make sure he healed up before doing anything.

It's almost a week later when the healers finally deem him healed enough and he immediately sets off for Kei's tribe. When he arrives he finds out that Kei has secluded himself in a yurt hidden in a grove of trees by the river outside the village. It takes him a little while to find it and when he does, Magnai's anger over Kei leaving has built back up and he burst through the entrance ready to call Kei an idiot and other things for leaving, but his anger quickly evaporates when he finds Kei sprawled out on the floor, unconscious and surrounded by firewood he must have been carrying inside. Magnai quickly gets Kei up and into his bed, and when he finally gets a good look at him he can tell Kei has not been sleeping and touching his forehead he finds that he has a burning hot fever. The next few days Magnai spends taking care of Kei, trying to make sure he gets water in him and keeps him wrapped up in bed, Magnai also shares the bed with him when the fever shakes get bad to help keep him warm. Kei drifts in and out of consciousness during this, not really registering that Magnai is there. When Kei is finally better and wakes up, they have a proper talk about everything and Magnai convinces Kei to return to the dawn throne with him because he doesn't care about what so called trouble will happen, he just wants to be with Kei, his precious moon, no matter what.

Smutty side of the AU: sex on the throne, sex where Daidukul joins them and he and Magnai dp Kei, Magnai fucking Kei in plain sight of both tribes to claim him as his alone after one too many buduga try to flirt with Kei

And some more copy paste from discord.

My brain is trying to give me the terrible idea of Kei going out with some hunters of both clans and the group being ambushed by like mercenaries/borderline slavers that have been paid to grab any au ra they can get their hands on for some rich fuckbag who wants them as pit fighters.

One of the hunters would get away, badly wounded, but he'd make it back to the dawn throne to tell them what happened. Magnai practically explodes with rage that someone would dare take his moon. He and Daidukul gather up their warriors and go on the hunt for the kidnappers. It only takes them half a day to find them but even in that short time the hunters and Kei have clearly been beaten and hurt by some kind of magic, and they all have some kind of glowing shackles around their wrists and necks. At the sight of Kei huddled in the corner of a cage, some of his hair slicked down with blood, Magnai snaps and let's loose on the kidnappers with a fury none of his tribesmen had seen before.

There's little left but piles of gore and large puddles of blood when he's done. Some of the other warriors had already gotten Kei and the hunters out of the cages while Magnai was lost to his rage. When he finally calms, he is immediately at Kei's side and remains there until the healers separate them upon returning to the dawn throne.

After that whole mess I can see Magnai keeping Kei at his side at all times, even snapping at anyone that accidentally sneaks up on them, tho Kei always apologises for his behaviour while Magnai just grumbles and holds him close. It'd be a long time before Magnai dares let Kei out of his sight for any longer times.

Kei making flower crowns in the summers and he always gives Magnai a beautiful bright red and orange one. Daidukul gets one with different shades of blue, Baatu gets purples. He even makes tiny ones for the sheep sometimes out of flowers he knows they like so they have a little snack when it falls off them.

I like to imagine Magnai being a grump the first time cause how dare you adorn the sun with flowers but he sees how happy it makes Kei so he bites his tongue and eventually he looks forward to it because he loves watching Kei sit and weave the crowns together and seeing his brilliant smile as he goes around crowning people in the tribes.

And one summer Magnai tries making one in secret for Kei. It takes several tries and he's not really happy with it in the end but he presents it to Kei anyway cause he deserves having one made for him too. It's a little messy and some stems stick out here and there but Kei loves it and wears it for as long as he can.

I also figure they have a talk about Magnai's responsibility as khan to continue his blood line and since Kei obviously can't help him with that, they agree that they should find a willing lady to bear a child or two for Magnai that Kei will help him raise.

Magnai also manages to convince Kei to bed a woman to have a child of his blood too, cause he doesn't want sweet, gentle Kei to be the last of his line. Which Kei calls him silly for but he does agree to siring a child.

Tired Magnai trying to sleep in while Kei is helping start breakfast for the tribe and before he can get back to sleep, Kei's son and Magnai's twins (a boy and a girl) barge into the room and climb onto the bed to try to get him up.

Rewind a bit to when they are all toddlers and Magnai is exhausted and has fallen asleep on the throne with a twin in each arm. Daidukul off to the side as usual, unable to keep from smiling as he keeps an eye on the sleeping pile just in case one of the babies move. Kei has his son in a sling against his chest as he goes about his usual chores around the camp. Anyone who enters the throne room to speak to Magnai is immediately shushed and shoo'd out by Daidukul.

Both of them being awoken at night by the chorus of babies screaming and Kei is just like, utterly drained and throws a pillow at Magnai as he mutters a tired "your turn". Magnai throws the pillow back with a small smile before he leans over to press a kiss to Kei's forehead and then he goes to soothe the children.

As much of an attitude he puts out, I like to think he's super soft and gentle with his loved ones. Also it'd be funny to see how confused the tribes would be when they see him gently doting over Kei at the start of their relationship and then again when the kids are born.

The kids grow up to be great hunters, Kei's son inherits his father's knack for healing, Magnai's son becomes a skilled leatherworker and his daughter becomes the best tracker of the tribes. She also trains with an axe like Magnai and he beams with pride the day she beats him during their sparring.

That’s all I got so far lol

#Laura writes stuff #kinda?#oc: Keinaan #FFXIV #Magnai Oronir #the scorching sun and his gentle moon #AU

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foolgobi65 · 5 years

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Hey Maya! I was so thrilled to see that Chitrangadaa fic that I couldn't help storming into your Askbox. Can I please request a Hogwarts AU for Chitrangadaa if you haven't done it yet? Thanks! :))

ah im so glad u liked it!! please feel free to send me as many prompts as you want! also this is completely unedited and possibly quite terrible, and i decided to go with gay ulupi and chitrangada this time which is … lowkey canon anyway but still i really hope you like it! if you dont just send another prompt and i’ll try again lmao!

1. Chitrangada’s family is old, reputed, and cursed – every generation shall bare only one child to continue the family line. When Chitrangada is born, her father spares a brief moment to be disappointed that she was not a boy before kissing her forehead. After all, his grandfather was born of the Clan Mother and there are still stories that attest to her strength of will.

“My beautiful daughter,” he whispers and kisses her soft cheek once more, “Chitrangada.”

2. Chitrangada enters Hogwarts the only daughter and heir to her family’s vast Welsh fortune. Traditionally, they are a family that has kept to themselves, far enough from the grip of London that they are easily forgotten amongst the high drama of the Sacred 28. Not for them are the vices that often plague the privileged – they cannot afford to lose an heir to liquor or grudge at the gaming boards. Even less do they suit the political intrigue of the English, the power plays and ideological warfare that has led to Kamsa’s 25-year iron grip. Chitrangada is raised safely in the family home, told to keep her head down and finish seven years without attracting any notice from those who might try to have her fight their battles. Courage too is just as likely to cull the lineage as stupidity.

“Gryffindor,” the Sorting Hat screams the moment it touches the 32nd in a line of Hufflepuffs.

3.“You know,” Chitrangada hears from somewhere in front of her,“there’s an easy fix to your problem.”

Chitrangada looks up, furiously brushing away her tears and attempting to pretend that she wasn’t just crying in an abandoned classroom.

“What do you know about my problems,” she asks the girl, a Ravenclaw by the looks of her robes, perhaps a year older than Chitrangada herself. The girl lowers herself to the ground, resting her back against the wall next to Chitrangada.

“You want to fight, yes?” Chitrangada bites her lip.

“It’s not so easy, you see my family–”

“I know about your family.” Chitrangada furrows her brow. “Then you know why my father won’t accept it.” She snorts. “And he would be right! I would be endangering everything my family stands for, for nothing!” Tears leak from the corner of her eyes and she buries her face in her knees once more.

“But you’ll do it anyway, won’t you.” It isn’t a question. “Why?’

“Because things are so horrible, and I knew nothing,” Chitrangada says to the blessed dark behind her closed eyes. “I can’t go back to my home and spend the rest of my life reading obituaries and know that I did nothing to keep people safe!” She swallows.“I won’t run,” she says finally,“especially knowing how many people don’t have the option.”

The girl shifts closer and sighs, bringing her own knees up to her chest until they both sit side by side, shoulders a seam.“That’s as good a reason as any,” she says,“and so I’m going to help you.”

Chitrangada raises her head, and it is a moment that she will remember for all the rest of her days. The moonlight streams through a window, and it makes the other girl’s hair shimmer, brushes against the delicate planes of her face, nestles in the curve of her slight, faint smile.

But most of all, it lends a gleam to her eyes, iron that has turned into the steel of certainty. Chitrangada’s heart skips one beat, then another, and suddenly she feels like there is nothing she cannot do.

You only die if you lose,” the girl says,“so don’t. I’ll help.”

Chitrangada blinks. “Don’t lose?”

“Easy, right?”

Chitrangada smiles.

4. The girl, Ulupi, turns out to be a born researcher who for some reason has decided to focus her considerable energies into turning Chitrangada into a fighting machine. Ulupi finds books, pamphlets, old scrolls squirreled away in the recesses of the library, ranging from defensive spells to healing salves, battle theory and runes that turn one’s steps silent.

The only thing Ulupi is not is a duelist, which means that Chitrangada by her fourth year is a master of theory, but only middling in practice. At night, she starts to slip out of the Common Room to practice stinging hexes at targets.

If practice is merely an excuse to drown herself in work, to have something to do when not with Ulupi than think of Ulupi, of how pretty and smart and lovely she is, and how she cannot give Chitrangada children,then no one but Chitrangada and her poor conjured dummies needs to know. Ulupi would conjure bubbles and remark that they are better training for reflexes, but Ulupi also prefers to be asleep between the hours of 12 and 8, so Chitrangada and her dummies are alone.Or, that is what she thinks, until she walks into her usual classroom and finds herself dodging a stunner.

“Protego,” she shouts instinctively when she feels the whiz of the next, without even the sound of an incantation for warning. It is the new moon, and the room is still pitch black.

“Lumos.” In the light, Chitrangada sees her attacker and gasps: Arjuna, two years her senior and said to be the most gifted duelist in generations stands with his wand out. He blinks.

“What are you doing here?” Chitrangada’s eyes widen.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes move from her to the dummies spread around the room. “I was practicing.”

“In the dark?” And yet, Chitrangada looks and there are marks on the dummies that she knows weren’t there the night before. It is true: Arjuna has learned to duel in the dark.

An expression crosses Arjuna’s face, but he is too trained for Chitrangada to decipher its meaning.

Another stunner, and Chitrangada puts up a shield. He aims another, nonverbal the whole while, and Chitrangada is annoyed enough that she sends a stunner back. Arjuna’s shield is a work of art, his stance a mirror of the dueling text Ulupi had found last winter, and they begin to fight in earnest, trading spells until finally Chitrangada is panting, her wand in Arjuna’s left hand.

She will never be an auror, she thinks, and blinks away her hot, furious tears. She will die in the streets of London, ending the family line by 18. She will break her father’s heart.

“You’re good,” she hears from beyond the veil of her intense self-pity, “if a little unpracticed. Why don’t I know who you are?”

Chitrangada frowns. She is rich for sure, but Arjuna is a Kuru of London, one of the Sacred 28. Headmaster Bhishma himself is his Grandsire, and it is common knowledge that Arjuna has been trained as a duelist since three years of age. He attends classes to satisfy his elders but notoriously refuses to spend free time with his peers. Why would he know who she is?

“I’m younger than you,” Chitrangada finally offers when she realizes the question wasn’t rhetorical.“We don’t share any classes.”

“But we have people of all years in Dueling Club and I thought I knew everyone there.” Chitrangada’s eyes widen – the Hogwarts Dueling Club is a society for the elite, and while it is open to anyone in name, entry is usually based on invitation. Chitrangada trains in secret, in order to prevent word from getting to her father.

“I was not invited,” she says, and then when she sees Arjuna attempt to object, she adds–“My father would not approve.” Better he think her father old-fashioned than be forced to explain the family curse.

Arjuna’s eyes harden. “How have you trained so far?”

Chitrangada shrugs.“Books.” To speak of Ulupi is to think of her, her sweet smile, the way she smells of flowers, the brush of her fingers when she passes a pamphlet across their shared desk. Chitrangada ruthlessly crushes the thought of her best friend.

He exhales.“Books.” Chitrangada nods.“Then you are remarkable – to have lasted so long against me without proper training. Are you sure you won’t join the Club? We can be very discreet, and you are probably better than a fair few.”

Chitrangada smiles, heart light at Arjuna’s praise. Perhaps she might make it to 19 after all.“No,” she says,“as much as I might like to, I’m afraid it’s quite impossible.”

“Fine,” Arjuna shrugs, and Chitrangada tries not to feel hurt at how easily he brushes her aside. But then he moves back into the dueling stance and Chitrangada’s heart skips another beat. He smiles, tossing Chitrangada back her wand.“I’ll just have to train you myself.”

Chitrangada’s jaw drops. She is in love.

5.“You are not in love with me,” Arjuna says a year later when Chitrangada confesses her deep, abiding passion for her illicit dueling master.“I don’t know why you just won’t tell Ulupi.”

”Ulupi?” Chitrangada splutters.“If you don’t like me you can say so, there’s no need to make implications!”

Chitrangada managed to keep her midnight sessions with Arjuna a secret for an entire week before Ulupi came barging into their classroom, furious at being kept out of the loop. By the next week, she had drawn up a new schedule that allowed Arjuna and Chitrangada at least four hours of sleep and given Arjuna a tome about training to duel without the use of each of the five senses.

“I don’t need to make implications,” Arjuna says,“she’s already told me.”

“Told you what?” Chitrangada blushes crimson, reminding herself to breathe. Does Ulupi know? Chitrangada has tried so hard to keep her feelings to herself.

“That you think you need to be with someone who can give you an heir, and since Ulupi cannot you are convinced it is best to live in misery, hopefully marrying some man who will give you a child before you die in the Auror service.”

Chitrangada’s knees shake, and she feels herself sinking to the ground, her lungs tightening until she can’t breathe. She hears Arjuna calling out, and when she next opens her eyes it is to the horrifying sight of Ulupi’s face, one single tear running down her cheek.

“How could you be so stupid!” Chitrangada is not sure if this is directed to her or Arjuna kneeling behind Ulupi, wringing his hands.“I’m talking to the both of you!”

“Ulupi,” Chitrangada begins, but stops at Ulupi’s outstretched hand.

“Did you really think that after everything, I wouldn’t have a solution?”

“Does the Hogwarts library have books about…” Arjuna’s voice lowers.“procreation?”

Ulupi rolls her eyes.“It has books about sex too.” Arjuna flinches.“But no, I found this at a Muggle bookstore last summer. You’re going to be a sperm donor!”

“A what?” Arjuna and Chitrangada say this as one. Ulupi laughs.

“Well,” she says,“the muggles have figured out how to isolate what of Arjuna is needed to create a child, and so he will….donate –”

“Donate my –”

“Yes,” Ulupi says, finally flushing herself.“In a little bag. Then we will… insert that into Chitrangada, and she will have a child!”

A moment of silence. “A child,” Chitrangada whispers. Is it possible?

“My child?” Later, they will all laugh at the sheer amount of scandal in Arjuna’s voice.

Ulupi glares. “Well it doesn’t have to be your child if you don’t want it to be! The child will have two parents once Chitrangada and I marry, and even if she dies I will be a researcher and stable enough to satisfy the family.”

“Marry,” Chitrangada breathes, gazing at Ulupi as if it is again the first time. In a way, it is. She is, if possible, even more beautiful than that first night, all blazing eyes and steel certainty that even the stars will move to align with her vision for their future.

“Yes,” Ulupi says, turning to grab Chitrangada’s hands and bringing them up to her lips. “Easy, right?”

#mahabharata #chitrangada #ulupi #arjuna #hogwarts au #prompts #maya writes #arjuna is a sperm donor because thats ... basically what he is in canon too lmao #mayavanavihariniharini

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labyrinthus-magici · 5 years

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🔥!!!

Was looking at my muse list to think of something that stood out but since I couldn’t pick one I’ll just go w something that affects a lot of them but anyway like

As an autistic person I personally thing the large majority of the magi/snb cast is autistic coded! The fandom as a whole (although it’s not just the magi fandom tbf it’s kind of all of them I’ve been in) ignores that a lot!

I have seen autistic Judar before which is VALID but it’s really frustrating when Judar and Morgiana are the only two you see (and Mor as an afterthought) bc they’re the ones with the more “stereotypical” traits (i.e Judar being antisocial/struggling with empathy which is probably due to trauma and not even his autism considering that. studies show that it’s allistic people who lack empathy for autistic people usually and not the other way around but I digress!) and I’ve been told that other characters who are autistic coded can’t be bc they’re like idk??? competant lmfao??? I don’t get when allistic people say a character can’t be autistic bc im like lmao good to know you know every autistic experience and trait! Maybe you can educate me on my own disorder that you don’t have bc you clearly know so much about it that you couldn’t possibly be overlooking something!

Anyway my muses that I intentionally play as autistic and some of their main traits are bellow the cut bc it’s lengthy (The others I’m probably going to accidentally autistic code bc I. am autistic and it affects my writing but ahiodfhg)

Morgiana: Mor is a pretty obvious one, although I do love her autistic coding! So like most of these characters but with Mor esp you have to keep in mind that she canonly has c-ptsd (post traumatic stress disorder but when it’s not a single traumatic event but living long term in a traumatic environment such as an abusive home or any other variation) so that affects how many of her autistic traits present themselves. I do think that she’s become very good at masking (i.e hiding autistic traits) due to them being punished and because of that she is exhausted because masking is very taxing. I think that she started to unlearn this considerably once she joined the caravan with Leila’s encouragement but it was subtle bc while she did become close with Leila and Sahsa she didn’t open up entirely.

Once she gets to Sindria though and starts opening up I think that she’ll relax a lot because she can see others with the same traits who don’t have to hide them. Masrur especially points out that it’s important for her to stim and because she’s not the only one who deos this, everyone is understanding and accommodating at times when she’s non verbal/not able to speak.

One thing that really stood out to me about Mor is her hyperempathy. Because she doesn’t talk much, it’s hard for some people to pick up on, but Morgiana often has strong feelings of empathy for others. At first this is something that she struggles with, because it’s something that others have taken advantage of and used to hurt her, and because she’s afraid of her emotions as a whole. Later though, she learns that this can be her strength. Morgiana’s most powerful moments (in my opinion) like when she rescued Nadja, when she confronts Alibaba about the consequences of what the fog troupe is doing, and many other instances, are very emotionally charged. She’s also the first to empathize with the pirates that Madaura has brainwashed, and is able to get the others to empathize with them too.

Morgiana was my first favorite magi character (the reason I even got into magi in the first place tbh) bc it was so empowering to see someone with many of my traits in an empowering role of a hero because of those traits and not just with them as an afterthought!

Masrur: I’m going to focus on snb just because that’s what I’m more familiar with as I haven’t read the parts of magi that Masrur is spotlighted in in a long time although honestly all of this stuff applies to Masrur later but it presents itself differently because whilst autistic people never grow out of their traits, just like anything in a person, it changes and becomes more nuanced as a person gets older and gets more experience.

But Masrur is another autistic coded character! A lot of his traits can technically be explained away by canon/plot details however in this house we don’t think that because there’s technically an argument against autistic headcanons that it’s at all valid so ANYWAY

To start we have the way he sees himself as different from others, the way he goes to sit by himself because he feels like he can’t fit in with everyone, how he’s not like them, how he’s just a monster with a single purpose that’s already been fulfilled. Normally, I wouldn’t count this exactly as an autistic trait however Hinahoho is the one that comes to talk to him because he can relate to this experience which is autistic coded so! One thing that’s a common experience in autistic people is feeling quite literally inhuman, usually in the form of an alien, fairy, or fictional character (as it was in my case). This is becuase of the isolation that we normally face in childhood. For Masrur, he feels different from the others, like who he is isn’t someone that would be wanted and that’s something that I can relate to quite strongly. It’s not until he comes to the Sindria trading company, a place full of Neurodivergent coded characters (the ones that aren’t autistic coded are coded as other disorders as well such as ADHD and BPD among others I don’t think there’s actually one person there who’s neurotypical considering that. The entire theme of the Sindria trading company is that they take in people who are outcasts and in need of help and usually those people tend to be ND.) that he comes to realize that he does belong and that he is valued.

In addition to that we do see him stimming or doing stim like behaviors at times, he sometimes is talkative and others seems mostly or entirely non verbal, he tends to misunderstand social queues, struggles with subjects that he’s not interested in, etc.

I think it’s super important to take into account Masrur’s autistic coding because Masrur gets to be HAPPY. Like, yes, he does experience a lot of traumatizing things, but by the end of Magi he still has his family, he’s happilly married and a good father. These are things that people think autistic people can’t have or don’t deserve, and we never get to experience this things in character’s that are canonly autistic. So for me seeing an autistic coded character with such a positive development was something really positive, it’s the same way for a lot of these characters, seeing so many autistic coded characters getting the development that the deserved was what drew me to magi inittially if I’m perfectly honest. I didn’t know it at the time bc I had no idea I was autistic until last year (coincidentally from autistic friends also from this fandom!) but it really was what drew me in.

Hinahoho: Oh God where do I even START with autistic icon Hinahoho? I think, out of any snb characters Hinahoho is the most heavily autistic coded. Like there is literally no other explanation for his character I can think of whenever I see him I get so happy bc I’m like!!! Yes!!!! Autistic dad!!! I love him!!!

His backstory first and foremost focuses on his separation from the rest of the people in his tribe because he has unconventional interests (art!!) and that he isn’t able to pass the test and become and adult at the proper time. To start, being a “late bloomer” in things (or alternatively doing things too soon in some cases) is a common autistic experience. A lot of us due to many reasons (mostly due to ableism and lack of accommodations) we aren’t able to do the things that our peers do at the same times like drive, attend college, or move out of the house etc. This isn’t a lack of competence just that we aren’t able to go about things in a way that we are able to thrive in, and this is exactly what Hinahoho’s development highlights! He never does pass the warrior’s test in the way that is most traditional, instead Sinbad (whose an Adhd ND icon if you ask me but I haven’t added him to my muse list yet so aidofhg more on him and the other adhd icons in this series later ahidofhg) mentions how there’s multiple ways to be strong, how he doesn’t have to do things the same way as everyone else to be worth something.

There’s also the ableism that he faces from others in his tribe. In addition to judging him for not having become a warrior yet, he is bullied by others and treated like a child when he shouldn’t be. The others are so unkind to him for being “different” and “weird” and having “a personality like a fish left to dry” (WHATEVER THAT’S EVEN SUPPOSED TO MEAN LMAO I STILL DONT GET IT) that in his introduction he starts sobbing bc Sinbad said thank you to him like. Like God can I relate to this, honestly his experiences though not exactly the same as my own deeply resemble how I was before I found out that I’m autistic.

Then, after he learns to love and accept himself and marries Rurumu (Oh!! That’s another thing, people acted like he was unlovable but Rurumu always loved him. He never had to change who he was or mask his autistic traits and that’s SO important because honestly I can’t even imagine someone who isn’t also autistic wanting me romantically especially when I see shit about people taking autistic people to homecoming and calling it “inspiring” and “selfless” and a “learning experience”) he then turns around and teaches others to do the same. I noticed that he becomes very close to both Drakon and Masrur who are both autistic coded and he helps teach them to love themselves like??? LIKE???? and with Masrur he literally points out that he can empathize so points for hyperempathy again. I’m loving how many magi characters have hyperempathy that is ultimately good. Bc it’s usually a weakness in character’s that have it.

Drakon: Honestly once again idek where to start when his entire development is deeply autistic coded but we’ll start with his backstory. So to start there’s the power imbalance between him and his (neurotypical) siblings. Whilst he is the youngest, I think that the reason that he’s unfavored in the family and is the one always catching shit is because he’s autistic. This is something that happens so often is that when an autistic child has allistic siblings the allistic one is favored or if not favored they definetely get treated better because autistic children are particularly vulnerable and easy to manipulate. With Drakon’s childhood, although again the circumstances in my case aren’t exactly the same, I really am seeing my past self.

He was from a young age branded as a prodigy, told he was already basically an adult even though he was still a child, and this is so common with autistic children who show a semblance of talent in something. However, he isn’t praised for this in a healthy encouraging way, instead he’s given the responsibilities and expectations of an adult already. In addition to that, he is conditioned to mask his autistic traits, in addition to being taught to devote his entire self to his cause. The fact that he internalized everything so deeply that he had a breakdown when he realized that he wasn’t wanting to die for his cause, that he thought he had to follow everything to the letter all the way down to his deepest feelings, is in my opinion an autistic trait as I showed exactly the same traits for other matters, internalizing things at the same intensity. He social scripts quite a bit, meaning that he has a strong sense of “this is how things SHOULD be so if they AREN’T this way then everything is in RUINS and we have to fix it IMMEDIATELY” he has the roles he’s been given and he strongly believes that everyone else has a role. This does become far more healthy once he’s unlearned the toxic things that he was taught but he still does it, but in a healthy way. Everyone has a role to fulfill, and he’s strict about this, when people aren’t doing what they’re supposed to be becomes irritable and struggles to keep functioning as normal.

Then there’s the fact that his entire development is learning as a teenager that he’s become a monster, literally in this case, learning that he is hated so much that he resolves to leave his humanity behind, only to gain love and acceptance and learn to love himself in the form that he takes. While I don’t think every monster is autistic coded (as that would be problematic for obvious reasons) developments like this resemble our experiences so well? It’s a perfect metaphor for what it’s like, honestly.

One reason I think that it’s important for me personally to acknowledge Drakon’s autistic coding is because he’s a strong leader and people think that autistic people cannot be leaders, that we’re incompetent. So to see a character with my traits be someone noble, to become king even, and to thrive is something super positive for me because again it’s something that people think we cannot do that we cannot have but we really can.

Leila, Sahsa, & Nadja: With these three it’s mostly projecting just because we don’t see enough of them for them to really be that autistic coded HOWEVER tis my blog and you get to hear all my hcs asdfgh. I like to hc these three as autistic 1. bc Leila and Sahsa’s relationship is beautiful, and to contextualize that as a romance between two autistic women is really nice for me who as I mentioned before struggles to ever see myself having a love like that. 2. Leila and Sahsa take to Morgiana and encourage growth in her and I like the idea of them helping her to relax a little on hiding her autistic traits. 3. Because as an autistic person it’s difficult for me to interpret characters as not autistic (where not autistic is other’s defaults for me autistic is the default, so it would be more accurate for me to say I have some allistic headcanons rather than autistic ones lmao) I actually started headcanoning Leila as autistic by accident because I wrote a fic where she had a shutdown (which is when there’s too much stimulants i.e sound or sights etc. and we have to go lay down and rest and shut out the stimulants that are bothering giving us sensory overload.) and was like oh!! Time to make both her and Sahsa autistic bc who’s gonna stop me lmao.

Also one headcanon I have for Nadja (in addition to her joining Leila and Sahsa’s caravan with her family) is that after Morgiana rescued her she developed a special interest in adventure and heroism which is really cute on one hand bc she always wants to learn stories of heroes from the locals of the places they visit and her parents are like aw she’s talkative sometimes! She’s making friends!!! But on the other hand she tags along on Leila and Sahsa’s “oops lmao just fought an entire band of thieves again” adventures and is that “Let me see what you have!” “A KNIFE!!” “NO!!!” vine so ahidfohg be careful u fuckin superb lil baby.

Myron: Hers is a bit shorter since we don’t have a whole lot of her in canon, but her strict following of perceived social standards and social scripting makes me headcanon her as autistic. I also like the idea of her being autistic because so often people think that we can’t be proper or socially conscious but more often than not we overcompensate, the deal is that we struggle to understand neurotypical social cues not that we hate socializing.

Titus: Oh man I shouldn’t have put him so far down on my muse list bc this one is going to be lengthy. There’s a reason whenever I info dump about my son to people that I always call him Autistic Gay Icon Titus Alexius.

I’ll start with the fact that he struggles in social settings, i.e Sphintus thinking he’s so fuckin awkward at first. (Even tho I hc Sphintus as autistic too but like I said autistic is the default for me ahidfg) He has a special interest in magic, evidently, and is very info dumpy about it as times (though not as much as notable autistic icons Yamuraiha and Ugo). Also his best friends are Sphintus and autistic adhd icon Aladdin so like. Convenient. that the three most autistic coded kids at school becomes besties. asdfgh. Also none of the 4 magi are allistic tbh.

ANYWAY that aside and glossing over the whole separation he feels from the others (which I could go into length but it’s similar to Drakon and Masrur’s and Hinahoho’s deal and this is getting so long already oof) can we just talk about how fucking POSITIVE his Hyper-Empathy is for his character and the story?

Okay so like. Let’s start with the 5th district, how after just a little while there he immediately jumped into action with LMAO TIME TO BLOW A HOLE IN THE SKY IM BUSTING EVERYONE OUT LADS. Like. Was it dumb? Yes. Was it noble and valid? YES! And he STILL SHOWED UP TO CLASS READY TO FIGHT THE NEXT DAY. He also tried to call out Mogamett how many times? And still stood his ground with the 5th district, even when Mogamett tried to manipulate him by saying he only cared out of his selfish desire to befriend Marga, he immediately analyzed himself critically and came to the conclusion that no, he really just wanted everyone there to be safe and happy.

Then, when he goes to Reim and Just. Hhhhhh HE’S SO GOOD. AND HE HAS SO MUCH EMPATHY. The fact that he immediately begins changing things, is firm in that, but his main motivation is that he so desperately wants everyone to be safe and to live happily, the fact that his people’s problems are by extension his own because he feels real pain when others feel it. That’s hyper empathy and though it’s something that can be manipulated he doesn’t let that happen, he uses it for good!

When he gives his speech about why they need to abolish slavery in Reim asap, he begins to cry and exclaims that any one of them could die tomorrow, that they need to priooritize the people that are in the now who are suffering that they have the power to help their people and to liberate their country and appeals to everyone’s emotions that way and breaks through. Also the other changes he makes?? Like making the Colosseum into a LARPing spot? That’s so fucking good? What a nerd? I love him????

I can go into more detail with Titus but for time reasons I won’t but. We stan Autistic Gay Icon Titus Alexius here.

If you read all of this I love you sm thank you for reading this rambly mess. ahdiogfg

#Outside Of Destiny《OOC》#this is so LONG #though none of the stuff under the cut is negative or a rant #it's just me rambling abt how valid all my autistic muses are #ahdifoghdfg #but anyway yes Im an autism if u don't like that like #sucks to be you I guess lmfao #saeiqas

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 6 years

Text

No good reason for this, except that @villnis drew this CUTE AS FUCK PIECE for us as a “happy six months of being the pile of idiots” gift and I was INSPIRED. Idk how in character any of this is because it’s just meant to be silly and over the top so HERE WE ARE.

About 2000 words, set during no particular time because my writing half of the time exists outside of canon, lmao.

ALSO HERE’S THE ART!

“Now, don’t feed me some bullshit line about elves being able to eat books to survive.”

Ianry’s head jerked up as Val backed her way into the room, balancing three steaming bowls of something in her hands. She crossed over to the little wood table in the corner of the room, relieving herself of two of them and turning back with a wide grin as Ianry set his book aside.

“Only wizards do that, Val,” he said dryly, leaning heavily on the word with a thin smirk that made Val roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorcerer, right? Got it.”

She took a seat beside him on the bed and shoved the bowl into his hands like his joke had actually annoyed her, despite the grin lingering at the corner of her mouth. It was full of some kind of thin brown stew, fresh and hot enough that Ianry felt his hands start to burn slightly through the wood.

“Huh,” he muttered, tipping the bowl slightly like he was examining it. “I’ve heard of breakfast in bed before, but dinner? That one’s new.”

Val snorted and reached across to grab her own bowl from the table. “Well, someone had to stay here and make sure they didn’t try to rent the room out from under our noses. Gods know they’d have tried.”

Ianry grunted. To say the inn had been reluctant to rent to them at all would have been the understatement of the century. The only reason they had even made away with the one room was because Amon had begun casting thaumaturgy on every door in the building until one of them flew open, despite the innkeeper’s insistence that they had all been rented for the night. It had only taken him three tries, which had made any resistance by the innkeep particularly futile, but it had still only gotten them the one room.

“Where’d the other’s go?” Ianry asked after a moment, taking a tentative bite. The stew was as watery and bland as everything else in this region, but it was his first proper meal in days, and he couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but hum with pleasure at the warmth.

“Probably watching the last of Sarula’s performance,” said Val with a thoughtful shrug. Ianry’s brow furrowed and she shot him a smirk like she expected the confusion.

“You didn’t think we got this from the inn’s kitchen, did you? After the way they treated us?” She spooned another bite into her mouth and nodded towards the door.

“Tavern across the street was in want of a little entertainment though. For the low price of one round of drinks for the group, we got Sarula up in front of the crowd in exchange for whatever was left in the kitchen provided we brought the dishes back.” She gestured loosely with her bowl. “It's not much, but hell if it isn’t better than more salted pork and hardtack, aye?”

Ianry nodded in genuine earnest. Most of them had learned to tolerate trail food over the course of their many, many collective years of travel, but it never stopped being a miserable way to survive.

They sat in companionable silence for a while after that, leaned slightly against one another as they ate. Val drained her bowl in a matter of minutes, then sullenly eyed the one still steaming on the table beside her.

“Amon’s lucky I like him,” she grumbled at last, sagging back against the headboard like she had to physically pull herself away. “Anyone else, and I’d sell ‘em out for that bowl.”

“Well that’s comforting,” said Ianry, taking his next bite with a loud slurping sound that was clearly meant to antagonize her. Val snorted and shoved lightly at his shoulder.

“Don’t be like that. You know I mean anyone besides you lot.”

“You said anyone, Val.”

They squabbled for a few minutes after that, trading good-natured insults and half-hearted shoves as Ianry picked at the last dregs of his dinner. Val was just setting the bowl aside when the door of the room flew open with a great clattering of wood against the back wall.

“Behold, our savior!” cried Rona as she pushed her way inside. She had somehow managed to get possession of the glitter whip, and scattered a burst of the stuff over the entrance as Tara ducked in, clutching another set of bowls and balancing Sarula where they were perched proudly up on her shoulders. Amon slipped in beside them and dropped into a deep, exaggerated bow the minute he had room.

“Fair Sarula, of Milil’s good graces,” he announced, still hinged at the waist, “Champion bard of the Black Thatch, bringer of meals, entertaining the masses and undermining racist assholes who don’t want some weary travelers to get any fucking food.”

From up on Tara’s shoulders, Sarula giggled, then leaned down to pat Amon square between the horns.

“You sound like Cassick,” they said, and their giggle turned into a gleeful cackle at the chorus of groaning that followed.

They managed to get Sarula down without any particular incident, thanks to Rona confiscating the bowls in Tara’s hands and Val steadying them as they slid from the dragonborn’s shoulders. Ianry scooted sideways on the bed as they shuffled over, yawning and balancing their bowl in both hands.

“Those people across the street were really nice,” they were saying as they hopped up beside him. Tara let out a grunt that Ianry thought must have been a laugh.

“They say, because half of the bar bought us drinks,” she muttered under her breath, though not so low that Val didn't half choke on the swig she'd taken from her waterskin. Sarula glowered, but didn’t quite get around to protesting before their attention returned to their meal.

“I’d have taken the hospitality if they’d had proper beds,” Rona piped up from the table, gesturing with her spoon and scattering brown liquid across the floor. “But even having to squeeze one room out of this inn is better than another night on the ground.”

“What do you mean? Squeezing a room out of this inn was half of the fun of it,” Amon replied, flashing a grin that showed every one of his teeth. Val snickered and clapped him heartily on the shoulder.

“Good sense tells me I oughta warn you against doing that again,” she said, “But I’d pay solid gold for the rest of my days to see that innkeep practically shit his pants a second time.”

Scattered laughter rolled through the room, and Ianry bit down on a grin long enough to clap his hands over both of his cheeks in exaggerated terror.

“Oh, Mr. Scary Demon Man,” he moaned, “Please don't use any more of your dark, sinister magic on me! I’m scared of rattling doors, and I'm so vulnerable to fire!”

Tara sat upright as the laughter doubled, turning her nose to the sky. “Even though I owe you all an apology, I’m still going to feel justified in glaring at your door. But only when I think you’re not looking!”

“After withholding a meal that you know I have.”

“Without any sort of recourse for my actions.”

“Even though I’m so vulnerable to fire!”

The rest of Ianry’s words disappeared in a sudden pitch of laughter as the rest of the party buckled against one another, doubled over and trying to catch their breath between bouts. The table supported Rona well enough, but Val’s horns clattered against the headboard with an angry thud as she sank back when Amon tried to use her shoulder for leverage. Tara just shot Ianry a wide, toothy grin at the mess they had reduced their friends to, and Sarula -

He glanced down and found their cleric with their bowl set pointedly aside, suddenly hunkered deep into the sheets of the bed and pressed up against his side as they glared through the mess of their dark hair. Ianry snickered.

“Something wrong?” he asked innocently, as if he couldn’t see the way they had practically smothered themself in blankets. Their glare sharpened.

“Could you guys please try to be quiet? For just….” They paused, digging their hand out of the mass of sheets to tick silent numbers off of their fingers. “For about eight hours or so. Give or take.”

The laughter petered out slowly as the words lingered in the air, until one beat of silence had turned into a long exchange of bemused glances. Finally, Val cleared her throat.

“Are you, uh, asking us to go to bed?” she asked, barely hiding a wry, unsteady grin. Sarula wrenched themself around just long enough to fix her with a level stare.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

There was another pregnant pause. Then Val heaved herself up off of the bed and gave a delicate one-shoulder shrug that did not dampen her smile by an ounce.

“Alright everyone, you heard ‘em. Lights out!”

She grabbed Amon square by the shoulders and half-threw him back onto the bed. He landed hard enough that Ianry thought he must have helped the motion along just to annoy Sarula, who yelped in surprise as the bed pitched sharply to the right on impact. Rona seemed to take some silent cue from Val, and hopped off of her seat to scramble over the tiefling as she crammed in beside Amon. It took a few dedicated waves to get Tara to join in on the opposite side, but soon, all six of them had smashed together in the bed, huddled close and asking, in varying degrees of amusement, if this is what Sarula had been asking for while their cleric grumbled.

And it was a joke, for a little while.

Then their teasing began to die away, and Val shifted onto her side, pulling the sheets up around her waist. Then Rona moved too, pressing herself against the tiefling’s back and hooking her knees over Amon where he lay propped against Ianry’s side. Then Tara started yawning, and Io fluttered over to perch on the headboard at Ianry’s shoulder, and suddenly, he found himself crammed into a bed of semi-conscious idiots with his pack sitting halfway across the room.

Sensing that he had exactly two minutes before he was trapped for the rest of the night, Ianry pressed a hand against the wood behind him and tried to lift out of the pile that had sprung up around him. He had barely gotten his ass a few centimeters off of the bed before Amon’s arm snaked out from under the sheets and clamped down hard over his thighs. He swore quietly and flattened a palm against the bicep now resting against his legs.

“Amon,” he hissed, pushing lightly against the arm. Amon didn’t so much as twitch, though for a moment, Ianry could swear he caught a small smile on the tiefling’s face. Scowling, Ianry pulled his hand away and reached over to shove gently at Val’s arm instead. She actually turned, with a faint hiss of breath that informed him she had definitely been on her way to sleep. He muttered a hurried apology and gestured to his pack.

“Can you grab my book before you all pass out?” he asked, whispering despite his annoyance. “Any of them? I just need something to do.”

Val rolled just enough to see what he was looking at, and he watched with a creeping sort of dread as a wry grin touched the edges of her mouth.

“Sarula said light’s out, mate. Nothing I can do.”

He tried to protest, but she had already rolled away, and a chorus of weary, near-silent laughter bubbled up from the figures around him. Groaning, Ianry sank back against the headboard.

“I hate you guys.”

#pile of idiots #d&d shenanigans #my writing #oc crap #do you know how hard it is to try and move six people around? fuck me #i know it reads a little choppy because SO MANY PEOPLE but I hope it's entertaining

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