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try-set-me-on-fire · 10 months

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Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

#my writing #fuck it Friday #i swear I’m going to finish trapped buck and Chris and work on proposal fic before i work on this more #but it would be a bunch of glimpses of Buck’s various hospital trips from Eddie’s nurse perspective #and maybe shuffle some events around? like maybe eddie still gets shot but by a disgruntled former patient this time and #so he does a stint in the maternity ward and buck shows up there #and Eddie is like you’re having a kid?#and bucks like no my sister is what are you doing here #and when buck gets the story he’s like fuck. shit. im sorry i wasnt there #and eddies like picturing seeing buck in that moment of violence and says im glad you weren’t #also Eddie could still be the one who restarts his heart after the lightning strike #this bit is maybe the last scene actually sorry for posting the end first #have a good breakfast boys #buddie #evan Buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc

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hazznothere · 11 months

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Grip

#genshin impact #bone crushing hug for two please #kaeya alberich #diluc ragvindr #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #kaeluc #luckae #I’ve had this as my header for who knows how long and idk why it isn’t it’s own post #my stuff #guys be hinest did kaeya had more rekvance on the tcg event after losing to timmie?#honest gdi #i didnt finish the event bc i was rushing the mini games at 2:50 am and couldn’t finish the story #plz tell me he wasn’t the only featured chara to LOSE his mf match ill go insane

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nifinof · 8 months

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cygames you bastards you finally did it....

#granblue spoilers #god fucking banger event from start to finish #horoscopes really is the best ongoing event story right now

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miumiins · 6 months

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a jester and their marionette 🎪

#jun tag #floyd leech #miu draws #200+ LAYERS OGHSDFKSGH #doing lineless art was fun tho #gotta continue reading the event story but i HAD to finish this sdkflgh #the event theme is so up my alley #esp the amusement park part of it bc jun oc lore (tho not twst related) LOL

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ryllen · 1 month

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youtube

【English cover】Briar Valley bgm 7章茨の谷新bgm 英語で歌ってみた by Kibouka (original lyrics 創作歌詞) + ♫ + ♪

#mod posting #honestly i can't wait for book 7 bgms to drop in the shop #but it seems like they won't be there until the story finished #i wish one of the tsum music would drop in the shop too but it seems not #Harveston music too is that even available to those who played the event?#anyhow this singer did such good job #Youtube #twst #twisted wonderland #book 7

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platypuslappy · 2 months

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there‘s just no end to it, is there?

#tsukasa tenma #just finished reading this event story recently holyshittAAAAAAHHH #jesterkasa #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #prsk fa #project sekai fanart #pjsk fanart #mr showtime

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waywardstation · 7 months

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I WAS ABLE TO GET REI TOO!! So happy I have both him and Akari now

#I didn’t have as much trouble with him as I did with Akari #thank goodness #now I await the next hisui unit #and if you finished the Hisui story event I wonder if it’ll be who we saw at the end #no spoilers haha #or if we’ll see them around for a while before we can actually get them

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gifti3 · 6 months

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Hes on that hater shit right now 😔

#i finished reading through the event story...#i liked it #it was fun #and for once i can say i enjoy everyone being jealous af #but also minhyeok being attracted to beelzebub and leviathan #love that for him #i got to meet demons i havent met in the main story yet so that was fun too #god what must it be like to have everyone in hell wanting ur ass....#mc give me some tips please? 🎤#whb #what in hell is bad #whb sitri

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anewp0tat0 · 11 months

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hello folks! I realize it's been a while since I've posted anything at all, and it's been even longer since I've posted about the Finish the Story event that's I began at the beginning of this month.

well, I can happily announce that the project has been ongoing, everyone has been working very hard, and I hope everyone is ready for(and remembers about)

the upcoming release of the fan chapter 200!!

expect a full collage of multimedia pngs that somehow form a plot ^v^

now some little touchy feelies that are also important:

for the umpteenth time, I want to thank everyone who was able to find the time to join this little game of mine- especially the ones going to and from the hospital😭 fandom really do be like that.

incase I haven't stressed it enough, this project has been something I have been considering since I joined tumblr, but I've never lead a project before, so I was not ever sure I would even put the idea out there. especially since I feel like I'm speaking nonsense most of the time. I'm still thankful that @bibyshitsuji24k was able to encourage me enough to do it... so yea I'm very happy.

anyway I'm sure you've all has enough of that. please look forward to it being posted this weekend(hopefully)!! and make sure to congratulate all of the amazing participants(who will all be tagged when it comes out.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #200th chapter event #finish the story event #finish the story #kuroshitsuji fanart #kuroshitsuji fanfic #op's writing #op's fanart #kuroshitsuji chapter 200

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imissthembutitwasntadisaster · 5 months

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“Sweetheart, if you knew the things I could do with you, you’d have run away a long time ago,” said the young man standing below the arch of the city gate. If you looked at him full-on he seemed normal enough, but catch him in your peripheries and he seemed Wrong somehow. Like he had too many sides to him, or like his limbs were just out of proportion, or like he moved with a grace that wasn’t quite human. He reached out to run a finger along a stray lock of hair escaped from the pigtails of the young woman he was talking to.

She groaned loudly. “Don’t. We’ve known each other far too long for this bullshit.”

The man grinned. It was an unexpected grin, usually men like this are expected to smirk, or leer, or smile slyly, or even quirk an eyebrow if it came to it. But the grin was real, open and glad, briefly washing away the aura of inhumanity and leaving merely a boy who very much liked talking to this girl.

“But it’s funny.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“But it’s really funny.”

Let’s back up a bit. Everyone knows that history repeats itself and certain outcomes always arise. Violence is condoned through complacency. Tyranny lasts for a while then tends to burn itself out. Empires always end up toppled in the end. These are our stories, at least, which crop up again and again. The principle is true in other lands as well, they just happen to view different things as histories.

Fulfaran was particularly high in story density as cities went. It seemed you couldn’t turn a corner without running into a run-away princess, or a charming scoundrel, or a crone (crones were particularly bad – it was a 50/50 chance as to whether they’d try to destroy your life or give you genuinely good advice). The markets were teeming with exotic goods, the castle at the top of the hill flew its banners brightly in the breeze, and there were established parts of town you went to only if you wanted to a. meet an orphan, b. meet a thief or c. fall down a hole. Rather a good place for Reynard and Connie, who tended to be plagued by stories.

Constance was a baker’s daughter who had been taken as a teenager to live in a tower by a witch in exchange for her impoverished family receiving enough gold to live on. She never fully understood that witch’s motivations but that’s just how it went. She had immediately proceeded with a number of escape attempts, most of which failed until Reynard had ridden below her window and she had bargained with him until he snuck a rope inside with her food deliveries. He had claimed to be a prince, but wasn’t. Connie knew he wasn’t quite human either, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it and she didn’t want to pry.

She had wanted to go home, but she knew the witch would try to exact vengeance. So, she said her goodbyes for a second time and started out in the opposite direction, which happened to be where Rey was headed as well (or so he claimed, in truth he had no direction or purpose. But he liked Connie, she was sensible and she made him laugh).

Unfortunately, it seemed the two of them were not fated to have an easy path. For one, events kept transpiring which forced Rey into situations where he was expected to betray Connie. Said events seemed rather upset every time he simply told her everything and they worked out a solution together. Connie, on the other hand, was continuously being offered chances to fight royalty and claim a kingdom. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t like a kingdom, she commented once as the two of them wandered through the woods, but she didn’t think she had the training to run one. She was, after all, a baker’s daughter. She could make excellent bread but she didn’t care for administration.

They also stubbornly refused to fall in love with each other, which seemed to make the stories very distressed indeed. This was not helped by how within a few hours of meeting they had become firm friends – Connie rather thought they had been expected to be unlikely allies who hated each other at first. But it wasn’t in either of their natures to hate very hard and she liked Rey – he was clever and cutting, but never cruel.

Eventually the events all became too much, which is why they had come to where they were, the main gate of Fulfaran. The storied city. Surely someone here must know how they could get out of this.

Connie felt herself smiling back despite herself. “Fine, it’s a little funny but I honestly don’t know how you can say stuff like that in public without wanting to curl up into a ball and die,” she said starting to walk again, under the gate into the crowds. Rey fell into step beside her.

“I have no shame,” he shrugged, “besides, I don’t know any of these people. No one’s paying attention and even if they were, they’d think it’s normal. I’m pretty sure I saw at least three pairs of ‘people who definitely hate each other’ coming in after us."

Connie was going to reply, but she was cut off by a harsh voice that had snuck into their path.

“Child! I see greatness in you—”

“Oh not today, thank you!” said Rey, doffing his cap to the aged woman in the dark cloak swaying before them. Connie summoned up her best customer service smile, the one with just enough of a hint of rage in it that it tended to shut people up without them knowing why, and slipped past the figure.

“Wait!” the crone cried, “there is a prophecy—”

“Probably not me,” said Connie cheerily over her shoulder. “Try that girl with midnight-blue eyes over there, that’ll do the trick.” She rolled her eyes at Rey who grimaced.

“When we get to the inn we’re taking the most boring room imaginable,” he said emphatically. “Nothing on the top floor, nothing with secret passages, just four walls and a bed.” The two of them had long since given up on multiple rooms, or even multiple beds. No matter how hard they searched every inn was always just a little too full.

“We better do it quick, I want to sleep before dinner. Who did you say this place was recommended by again?”

“Basically everyone I know who’s been here,” said Rey, scanning the buildings as they passed. “They say it’s lovely, really quaint and unique. We should be there right around this corner—”

He halted. Connie almost hit his shoulder but she hardly noticed, too focused on the inn they had found. It was small and smoky, almost crumbling beneath the weight of the sky. Hooded figures passed in and out, glimmers of gemstones sometimes flashing out from beneath their clothing. The sign was covered in enough grime that it couldn’t be read and there was a large board on the front with dozens of papers stuck to it advertising quests, monster-hunts, missing people, missing dogs, various balls, festivals, and competitions, and the best shops to find weapons in the area. Connie’s heart sank and Rey’s expression told her he was feeling the same thing.

“I saw a TreacleTavern down the road,” he said under his breath. TreacleTaverns were in every city and they were all huge and identical. Connie nodded vigorously.

“Let’s go, let’s go.” She all but shoved him back down the way they had come.

As they left she shot one last look over her shoulder. A young man was staring at them. He had chestnut brown hair and an intense expression, as though he had seen them before. He seemed oddly familiar to Connie, though she didn’t know how she might have met him.

It was probably something very important that she would have lingered on had the circumstances been different. Unfortunately for the stories, however, she was still extremely invested, come hell or high water, in getting her pre-supper nap.

#my writing #we are SO back #this is not in fact the first connie and rey story but I never finished the other and I had them floating around #anyway I've read one too many fantasy novels lately where the leads don't actually like each other #also screaming scratching throwing up at the corny-ass lines these men pull out of their asses #once again I present you with a male/female best friend dynamic in which they wander the country and deal with Events #tomorrow I will probably give you the same I have one (1) look

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ghosts-and-blue-sweaters · 3 months

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@monthly-challenge 2024 | “first kiss” (but make it platonic)

Hi yes I’m posting another fic no I don’t know how. Enjoying it though. Artham Wingfeather my beloved.

read on A03

~~~

When Esben bursts through the doors, Artham shoots to his feet and expects the worst. He’d been daring to hope for hours now, keeping a sturdy faith in the Maker’s goodness, and that hope hadn’t once vanished or lessened—even after the sun set and the stars came alive, long after the moon made its journey across the midnight sky, and all the way up to the gentle but brilliant sunrise. He hadn’t lost his hope. He hadn’t lost his faith.

But now, all the hope and faith in the world evaporates like water, leaving Artham with a sick, sinking hole splitting his chest apart. Something went wrong. Something went so terribly wrong. One of them didn’t make it. None of them made it. No one could help. No one could do anything. It’s all over now. No more can be done.

Something went wrong.

Esben spins around, searching wildly. His eyes catch Artham’s and then he stills. His hair is greasy and tangled. There’s tear tracks on his face.

Artham’s breath stops in his throat.

And then Esben laughs—or cries or sobs or shouts, or maybe all of them at once. And Artham’s breath returns; the sinking hole in his chest begins to mend itself. It’s okay.

“How are things?” He asks, which seems far too refined a question to ask in a situation like this, but it’s all Artham can think to say—and he wants to know.

“Great! Perfect, just brilliant!” Esben laughs (it’s clearly a laugh this time) and gleefully runs his fingers through his hair. “Nia’s- she’s as bright and beautiful as ever, even- oh Artham, you should’ve seen her. As surely as I stand today, there’s never been a braver woman in all of Anniera—no, in all the world! She’s just- oh, I don’t know. I don’t know how she managed to do that. I could never, certainly… oh, surely not.”

He shakes his head, a somewhat horrified look coming upon his face, before he looks up, brightening. His eyes are shining like the sea. “It’s a girl.”

And then Artham does what he should have done the moment Esben opened those doors: he races forward, quick as the wind, and pulls his brother to himself, one hand on the back of his head. Esben cries, returning the embrace with shaking arms.

Artham holds on tighter.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, hugging in the middle of a hallway. It could’ve been decades or millennia and Artham would have never pulled away.

But then Esben is bouncing, unfurling his arms from his brother and taking a step back. His eyes are bright like sunlight despite the bags underneath. He looks free. “What are we doing, all the way out here? Come on, you have to meet her! Just think Artham, you have a niece now!” He grins. “How cool is that?”

Artham opens and closes his mouth. Oh. A… a niece. Him. He has a niece now. Oh.

Esben chuckles. “You’re speechless. Y’know, I can always count on having a kid to shut your mouth for a few blessed minutes.” He winks, clearly joking, but Artham barely hears the words.

I have a niece. She’s a girl. I’m an uncle to a girl.

“I-”

“Come on!” Esben hurries forward, taking Artham’s hand like a child and rushing through the doors and into the bedroom. Artham blinks, following blindly.

The lights are low, a quiet and steady dimness that feels comforting. The midwives must have left by this point, because all that remains is Nia, sitting against a tower of pillows in bed. She’s holding something small close to her chest.

Artham gasps. His feet stumble.

Nia looks up; she looks tired, with hair sticking to her face and dark spots under her eyes and lines on her forehead, but Esben was right: she’s as bright and beautiful as ever. There’s a glow that seems to radiate from her whole being, happiness and relief and gratitude all rolled into one. She smiles. “Hello, Artham.”

“Congratulations, my lady,” Artham stutters, because that’s the sort of thing he ought to say to someone who just gave birth. Right? He said it for Janner and Kalmar, didn’t he?

Nia dips her head in thanks, and Artham’s nerves are somewhat eased. That’s the sort of thing he ought to say, then.

“Come on!” Esben urges, dragging Artham forward a few steps. “You have to see her!”

Artham realizes that he and Esben had walked in holding hands, and Nia had said nothing about it. She had only smiled.

Somehow, Artham’s love for his sister-in-law grows.

Esben leads him all the way to the edge of the bed, where he stops and grins so wide it seems his mouth will jump right off his face. Artham stands there dumbly.

“Do you see her?” Esben asks dreamily. “Do you see how perfect she is?”

Artham leans forward slightly, eyes wide as he searches for the tiny thing. Nia smiles and gently tilts the bundle in her arms towards-

“Oh,” Artham breathes. “Oh.”

Because in Nia’s arms, wrapped in a soft blanket, is a baby; an unbelievably small, amazingly delicate baby.

Artham leans even closer, watching the baby’s nose gently flare with silent breaths. Her eyes are shut, her skin is pink, and Artham thinks she may be the most perfect thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“She’s beautiful,” He murmurs, and Nia beams.

“Do you want to hold her?”

Artham tears his gaze away from the baby, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“Our child.” Nia tilts her head meaningfully. “Would you like to hold her?”

“I-” Artham looks to his brother, feeling oddly helpless.

Esben grins, nodding eagerly. “Hold her. Hold your niece and say hello.”

Artham shuts his mouth, then opens it, then nods.

There’s no need to ask for instruction on how to properly hold the newborn; Artham learned from Janner and Kalmar, and he doesn’t think he could ever forget the feel of an impossibly tiny human resting in his arms, or the immense responsibility it carries—the knowledge that you are the keeper of a helpless human being, all that stands between them and death. It’s a wonderful and terrifying feeling.

Nia carefully moves the baby, a motion so smooth that the infant doesn’t stir. In seconds, the baby has passed from her mother’s chest to her uncle’s hands. Artham doesn’t dare look away from her.

She really is small. Smaller than her brothers when they were born.

A flutter of worry erupts in the Throne Warden’s chest. “Is she healthy?”

“Healthy as can be,” Esben answers, placing a cheerful hand over Artham’s shoulder. “We thought she was small as well. But, the midwives assured us that her size isn’t dangerous, and she’s been content as a thwap in a totato patch so far.”

“But we’re keeping a close eye on her,” Nia adds. “Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Esben echoes, quieter.

Artham swallows. The baby doesn’t even stretch from his hand to his elbow. She is so, unfathomably small.

She makes an equally small noise, and Artham’s eyes go wide as a (somehow smaller) hand reaches out of the blanket, plaintively waving.

“It’s alright,” Artham soothes, voice soft like the blanket the newborn rests in. Using the hand that isn’t currently occupied, he holds out his index finger to her.

She grabs it. Like instinct.

Just like that, her noises cease, and she relaxes amidst the blanket. Artham suddenly finds that he is unable to move.

She’s beautiful. She’s perfect. She looks like the Maker painted each and every detail with the softest paintbrush and the calmest colors. She looks like tiny blue waves lapping at a sandy shore, sea-birds gliding and chirping nearby. She looks like the music notes for the most stunning piece of music.

She looks like a song.

Artham breathes out (though he isn’t sure how) and he thinks he smiles and he knows he cries, because how? How does one experience pure beauty like this, and live unmoved by it? It’s impossible, he believes. It’s impossible.

The baby opens her eyes for a brief moment, blinking and yawning. They are brilliant. If true could be a color, that would be hers.

Artham pulls the baby closer, gazing deep into her face and attempting to memorize every shape of it, and every line. Every single detail.

She’s still gripping his index finger with a gentleness he doesn’t think he could ever deserve. He wants to sob. If he did that, though, then he would probably drop her.

Instead, he dips his head forward and presses his lips to her forehead, wondering at how new the skin feels. She has not yet been weathered and beaten by storms and sun. Artham finds himself grieving the day she will lose this newness, this softness, this remarkable state of being that’s unique to newborns.

He lingers there. He doesn’t know for how long. She is so perfect.

It is in this moment that Artham Wingfeather’s heart shifts, allowing room for someone else to make a home there; a small space, filled with ocean waves and flapping birds and singing. A space for this innocent child that he holds in his arms. A space he will fight to the death for. He will die before this space becomes empty and overgrown, he decides.

“As long as I live, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Artham promises, pulling away and staring into her sleeping face. “I promise. I promise by the Maker’s good hand, young…”

He pauses, and a realization strikes him. He looks up—perhaps for the first time in a very long while—and looks to the parents’ faces, which are both glowing and wet.

“What’s her name?” He asks.

Esben looks at Nia, and Nia looks at Esben. “We don’t know yet,” He says slowly.

Nia smiles. “It will come as the Maker wills it. For now, I am content to call her mine—call her ours.”

Artham looks back to the newborn, taking her in once more; her nose, her ears, her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes, her meager supply of hair. His heart begins to warm like a fire in a hearth. “Leeli.”

The room quiets.

“What?” Nia asks softly.

“Leeli.” Artham smiles, and the fire inside his chest burns brighter. “Leeli Wingfeather. Her name.”

He swallows, looking up before looking back down. “Leeli.”

“Leeli,” Nia repeats, soft like the beginning of a song.

Esben looks from brother to wife, then back again. “Where’s that name from, Artham?”

Artham thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. It just… sounded like her.”

“Leeli,” The High King murmurs. He sounds thoughtful.

The room is quiet. Then:

“I think it’s lovely.” Nia’s voice is strong through the dimness, and Artham wonders if she has a fire in her chest as well. “Leeli, Song Maiden of Anniera.”

“Leeli Wingfeather.” Esben smiles, nodding his head and shaking water droplets to the floor. “That’s perfect.”

Artham turns back to the child in his arms, and he feels an odd respect for her, despite her unassuming size. She is the Song Maiden—something the kingdom has not had in many long years. Artham instantly knows that she will fill the land with music, and it will be the most beautiful music anyone has ever heard.

He smiles once more, watching her sleep peacefully in his arms. “Hello, Leeli Wingfeather. We’ve been waiting for you a long, long time.”

He smiles wider. “I can’t wait for you to learn to sing.”

#februfluff2024 #the wingfeather saga #artham wingfeather #leeli wingfeather #leeli igiby #Nia wingfeather #esben wingfeather #my post #my stories #yayyyy I finished a fic in time for an event yayyyy

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project-sekai-facts · 10 months

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CONFIRMED - The next few events will be the final unit events before 3rd anniversary meaning all of them are arc enders.

Event exchange rewards will also be changed for these events

Via @/pjsekai_eng

#i've just become a news and speculation account on the side at this point. very fuck it we ball energy to this account now #project sekai #mod talks #so are they spamming mixed events or do we get main story 2 early #pspspsps colopale give us the story so i can finish the timeline quicker

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genspiel · 4 months

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traveler and paimon stop volunteering furina for things without asking her first challenge level impossible

#4.3 spoilers #tre plays #genshin impact #furina #traveler #aether #lumine #paimon #we did it once in her story quest and now we're doing it aGAIN IN THE GODDAMN EVENT QUEST #LIKE. CAN WE PLEASE JUST LET HER REST????????????????? FFS #also. like. i haven't actually finished furina's story quest yet.#so having chiori go “ah yes i saw that musical” is like. ma'am are you secretly a time traveler LMAO-

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cephalog0d · 6 months

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Okay, but like. There's the whole joke about Bruce recruiting children to be his sidekicks, but honestly there's only really one that fits that.

And it's Jason. And the whole story there is, frankly, unhinged. Aaaaand then he died.

(I'm specifically talking about "first post-crisis origin stories" here because Jason and Dick, in particular, have both had multiple major retcons and revisions over the years, and some of them dramatically change how things happened.)

Like okay. Going backwards, you've got Duke who joined/led a whole Robin-based gang at a time when Bruce wasn't even Batman. You've got Damian and Cass, who were both literally born into the world of masks and capes and heroes and villains, so they weren't ever really not going to be part of it. Steph might have taken inspiration from previous heroes but she made her own identity and repeatedly refused to stop involving herself in the vigilante lifestyle. Tim, obviously, basically strong-armed Batman into letting him be Robin, despite Batman's protests.

Dick's a little more complicated just because there's so many versions, because that's what 80 years of comics and multiple universe reboots will do, and there's kind of a general trend that earlier pre-crisis versions were more of Batman being like "hello, child, would you like to be my sidekick" and later versions have leaned harder and harder into the idea that Dick was absolutely going to do this anyway, regardless of what Batman had to say about it. But even in the first post-crisis version, the flashback in Batman Year 3, Dick says he wants to find a way to keep people like that from hurting others again. When Alfred questions Bruce's offer to train him, Bruce says that Dick should learn to do things the right way if he's going to do it. It's not hard to extrapolate that, much like later versions of the origin story, Dick was going to get himself into this one way or another. (Batman (1940) #437)

And then there's Jason. Whose backstory has also had a lot of (sometimes major) revisions over the years (remember when his adoption was, like, some kind of Joker-originated long con? Fucken Nu52, man). But the original post-crisis version is pretty straightforward. Steals Batman's tires, gets caught and sent to Ma Gunn's Secret Criminal School, intervenes when Batman goes to investigate, immediately gets offered the chance to be Robin based entirely on that.

Which is itself kind of unhinged. That Bruce saw this kid who was living on his own stealing tires and went "Hey you would make a good Robin" as his very first instinct.

But if you've never read Jason's post-crisis origin, or it's been a while, it's honestly even more unhinged than that because that arc starts with Dick getting "fired" as Robin specifically for the reason that he got shot by Joker and Bruce freaked out about how the Robin identity has too many enemies and therefore Dick, a legal adult with approximately a decade of training and experience, should not use the identity anymore.

(And it's specifically about the Robin identity, in this version, because when Dick says he's not going to stop the crime fighting thing Bruce's response is basically "I know and I didn't expect you to". Honestly I could also say a lot about this version of the Robin/Nightwing transition vs. later ones and how this one definitely feels like the Heavy Hand of DC Editorial in the fact that they had no contact for so long afterwards, because the interaction really doesn't feel like it warrants that in this case compared to some later versions, but that's a whole other too-long ramble.) (Batman (1940) #408)

And then a few weeks later Bruce turns around and picks up a random kid, a literal child, and goes "Hey you would make a good Robin!"

And I think a lot about how fucking wild that is. And it's not like the people writing just didn't notice. Dick's big argument with Bruce when he finally comes back to Gotham and meets Jason isn't about the fact that Bruce took in another kid, or even necessarily about Dick feeling proprietary over the Robin identity, the thing he's angry about is that Bruce said it was too dangerous for him, an adult, someone who has trained with Batman for a decade and was already highly physically trained before that for his whole life, to be Robin, and now Bruce has turned around and painted that target onto some random new kid. He pushes, repeatedly, trying to get Bruce to justify himself and this absolutely irresponsible decision, and Bruce gives a lot of answers about how Jason was on a bad path and needed this outlet and eventually just admits that he missed having a partner. (Batman (1940) #416)

And like. Dick's right, is the thing. He is 1000% in the right in this argument. If he can't be Robin anymore because of the danger, how in the hell is it anything like a good idea to hand it over to someone way younger, way less trained, way less experienced, and expect that that wouldn't end in tragedy?

And then it did.

And yeah, Bruce, it is kinda a lot of your fault.

#And the punchline is Batman clearly should not get to choose his own sidekicks! Haha?#(Sorry this is a lot more serious than my usual Batfam shitposts it won't be a regular habit don't worry)#this is long and rambly but it's something i think about a lot #and it's on my mind extra because of an AU oneshot i'm working on finishing right now #and obviously there's eight kabillion versions of any given origin and reboots and retcons and they change drastically yadda yadda yadda #and also obviously there's always behind-the-scenes editorial choices and other factors when it comes to comics story events #story and character choices are frequently not just a matter of storytelling but of things like meeting editorial demand of What Must Happe #but just looking at the story as presented: the one time bruce specifically recruited someone as his sidekick that kid ended up dead for it #it does make narrative sense given this that bruce's reaction to most of the subsequent kids is initially 'go the fuck home and stop this'#and then only really yielding with the realization that they're totally going to do this shit anyway #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne

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