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bahbzxxx · 9 months

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Sick! Venti X Traveler!Reader (SFW)

(In which his sickness was caused by getting his gnosis taken cause Huh sis that hurt even watching. But HAH he’s getting ✨better✨ while S*gnora is a pile of ashes lolsies)

There’s only one set of eyes on your mind as you race through the serenitea pot that’s much too big for your liking. If you were focused on your environment, Everything everywhere would make you want to explode into a pile of stardust here and now. Only the thought of not finding him would make you want to do that.

You approach the guestroom. Venti has been staying with you for a little while, recuperating. He will do it once in a while… when he needs a place to hide because the sickness is too hard to cope with alone. Sometimes, his stays are very long…and they seem to get a little longer, every time. He insists that it’s because he enjoys being with you, and he’s really recovering, but by not. But you know He will never feel the same… since…

No…NO.

You push the ice from your mind and how it still feels like frost blooms along your skin, only to penetrate it. It’s sharp.

You can only imagine how sharp it was for him…

With you just…there…doing nothing…

You knock on the side of the door, which is slightly ajar.

You hear a gentle hum, as well as footsteps and slight floorboard creaks from an owner too beautiful and divine for any land in the sea of stars you crossed.

Venti’s viridescent gaze envelops you in a fuzzy warm cloud as he opens the door. He is sleepily rubbing his eyes with his eyebrows furrowed. His expression softens as he sees you…and he takes both your hands in his, and he takes you inside. He can sense your despair…so he closes the door behind him with a gentle pat.

You see that he has no corset on and wears flowy pants that are a touch wrinkled. There are light sleep lines on his face and peaking out of his sleeves…the tell tale signs that he had just been in a deep nap.

“Hmm… you’re done early today…hmm…got any stories for me?”

His voice is so husky…and you can hear his exhaustion.

He holds his hands out to you with a soft smile, sensing you could really use an ear.

The hug you give the archon is almost enough to crush his own lungs.

“Hmph~ oof!”

his unbuttoned shirt is now covered in your tears as you cry into his chest, squeezing into his soft waist as if it is your life-line.

“Mmmm? Mmm…”

His heart breaks when he realizes you’re crying. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing deep circles in your back and nuzzling the top of your head.

He lets out a large sigh, and it feels as if his body is deflating like an anemo slime.

“Windblume…oh, my sweet little Windblume…” he whispers softly into your hair, leaving kisses in between.

He knows why you’re being like this…and truly, he does understand, as much as he’d prefer if you weren’t worrying so much.

“I know. I know…but I’m okay. She’s all gone…shes not gonna hurt us anymore…she’s not gonna hurt you, hurt…hurt me…”

He feels you squeeze him tighter, and he hears your little hiccups. You’re crying harder now…

“Windblume… I’m fine…I’ll be fine…I’m recovering, mein liebling, I promise you…bit by bit…”

He keeps rubbing your back, taking deep, steady breaths. He continues whispering sweet comforts as he holds you for a while, rocking you back and forth as he leans his body against the wall.

After a while of standing, Venti feels a bit weak…he may have recovered a lot, but he still needs a bit more time.

“Come with me, love…”

Gently, he leads you to the fluffy chair he begged you for a while ago from the Cats Tail in the corner. He plops down with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back.

“Ahhh…”

…

The bard opens his eyes, a bit upset that you haven’t joined him yet. He finds you standing there hesitantly, shyly watching over him while your eyes still sparkle with tears.

“Liebling…” He beckons, chuckling to lighten both your moods a little.

He reaches for your arm, and gently pulls you into his lap. He feels your hesitation, knowing that you’re scared even sitting in his lap could make things worse for him. He reassures you that this is oh so far from the truth.

“Uh-uh, no no no…I want you here with me…It’s okay…you make me feel better…”

He takes you in his arms once more, making sure you’re cozy in his lap.

“There we go…all comfy and cozy.”

He kisses your cheeks and your eyelids, as if he’s kissing your tears away.

You can tell he’s still lethargic based on the weight of his kisses…

“Now it’s my turn to suffocate you, hehe…”

He squeezes you to him, letting your head rest on his heart. It beats so steadily and slowly, like a gentle bass drum.

You sit like this for a while, You staring up at him, his chest he offers as your pillow as he takes his time kissing all over your face.

Naturally, despite all the worry you had, and still have, his viridescent gaze is so calming and soothing that you feel yourself growing sleepier and sleepier, much to his satisfaction. But…he sees that you’re still trying to fight it off, even when you’re safe in his arms and you can sleep. All this worrying about him… it made him sad, knowing that you probably were getting much less sleep than he was…

“My little warrior…you’ve been so worried about me…you’ve been so exhausted…you don’t need to hide that from me…” He sighs, moving the hair out of your face that just keeps coming back and hiding your precious eyes from him.

“…you know…I’m not quite used to someone being so concerned for my well-being…you remember that?”

You nod, and he purses his lips.

“I-I know…I know I worry you…” he continues softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“And as much as I want to give you a little bop on the head and tell you to stop that…”

He gives you a bop on the nose, hoping he can get you to giggle for him. Maybe just a crack of a smile even.

“That means…I’d have to stop getting worried with your adventures…I-I know, my Windblume…it may seem like you’ve seen just about everything…can do anything…but there’s always a part of me that’s just terrified…so scared you won’t come back to me…”

He tips your chin back up to him.

“But…you always manage to find a way back… Back to me…don’t you?” He smiles, bringing his nose closer to yours.

“I’ll even bet that you could be cursed by an evil sorceress on your travels, doomed to be an insect forever…”

Your eyes widen. You’d seen much worse, but nobody had done that…

“But…then I’d find a certain pretty little butterfly on my nose as I wake up from an afternoon nap…somehow, somewhere…”

You raise an eyebrow. You suppose you’re the pretty little butterfly in question…

He chuckles deeply, his chest vibrating against you.

“In other words…no matter how much I worry about you…somehow, even if it’s through a single thread of hope…I know that you’ll end up okay…right? Somehow…I really don’t know yet. You still truly amaze me…”

You giggle at the expression on his face.

“And…do I amaze you?”

You nod, a cute little blush on your face.

“Hmm…ok, then…let me amaze you with how, no matter how much you keep worrying about little old me…I’ll always be with you…and I’ll always find my way back to you…even if it’s just a tiny gust of wind…know that it’s me…do you understand, Liebling?”

You just smile, imagining to yourself how that would work. The bard takes that as a yes.

“Besides…you and I both know I’ve seen the rear end of much worse than this…and maybe…just maybe…I’m a little stronger than I’m given credit for…”

There’s a bit of bitterness tinged in his soft expression and tone…but it’s definitely not directed at you. That person is a pile of ashes now.

“Hmm.” He clears his throat. “So…”

He leans in to whisper into your ear. His tone lowers at least an octave.

“Trust me.”

It’s not a question. It’s not a request.

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes enveloping yours. Your lips are almost touching, and you feel his breath on yours.

“Trust. Me…”

He closes the fragment of space between your lips. It starts out soft and sweet, but his kiss becomes heavier as he puts one arm around the small of your waist to keep your fellow sleepy self from slipping, and the other on your cheek.

He keeps kissing you, breathing the same mantra into you every time your lips part- “Trust me.”

You slip your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you…I love you so much, mein liebling…I love you in a way that even a poet as myself couldn’t describe without making an utter fool of himself…”

His cheeks, already rosy, grow redder and redder and hotter everytime your lips touch and twist. You get so lost in this lush little wonderland that you feel you’re going to fall, even in his hold. The sensation startles you, and you panic. You gasp, clinging onto the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a whimpery and whiny groan.

“Oh…perhaps this isn’t quite the best idea, is it?”

He sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face.

You nod bashfully, an apology forming on your tongue. You slowly begin sliding off his lap, but his grip on your waist tightens.

“I had wanted to try and get out of bed today…maybe be useful and show you some of the poetry I had penned…but maybe…just maybe…”

There’s a gleam in his eye. It’s that gleam.

“Hmm…yep. Not today. Back to bed!”

You find yourself slung over his shoulder as he makes way back to the bed. Before you can scold him for obvious reasons, he’s already tossed you onto the bed, and the mattress is springing underneath his weight as he climbs onto the bed himself, looming on top of you.

He laughs as he ensnares you underneath him, your arms crossed and shaking your head. Your face is priceless, and he’s sure the winds of the far flung past, present, and future will never, ever forget it.

He feels a bit dizzy now…to not even his own surprise, so he flops down beside you, making the mattress bounce even more.

“Ahhh…that’s more like it…”

He weaves an arm under your body and around you to pull you closer to him.

“Now…where were we…oh, yes…”

You lean in for another kiss. You’re left hanging for a bit, and you can hear the smirk he’s wearing.

You open your eyes with a pout.

“Oh…don’t be like that…besides…aren’t we forgetting something? Hmm?”

He brings his braid to your face and brushes it against your cheeks and makes it do a little dance on your nose. He bops you on the nose once he’s done with the little dance.

Of course you have to undo his braids. Of course you do.

“There’s my Windblume…”

(is that angsty enough)

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puppetmaster13u · 3 months

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Prompt 208

So Danny would feel exasperated, and probably should. But Dan is actually doing good and hasn’t even bitten anyone during this situation so that’s a win in his books. Now if the turned-into-a-four-year-old could tell him where he managed to grab this other child when he was supposed to be at the babysitter’s, that would be swell.

Or why there is a hero who nearly broke the door down in a right panic.

Like genuinely, he doesn’t know who was more surprised, him, or the hero who came running up half in a panic attack.

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Jordan got child snatching habits from Vlad lmao #Who is in the Zone going to So much therapy rn #Burger explosion happened & he realized he needed to pull his shit together with help from some Trauma #Danny is in college & pretty much raising Dan & Ellie #Danny doesn’t refer to Vlad as his father but Dan hesitantly calls him grandfather #He happily calls Danny mom though- at first mockingly but then genuinely #They all forgot that time traveling heroes exist & might’ve come from Dan’s timeline #And that they might encounter them #I wonder whose child Dan just took home lol #Dan: I am a wee harmless lad #Also Dan: I may not currently have the power to destroy worlds but my big sister Mum & Grandpas do so HA

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money-and-dandellions · 3 months

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I am totally fine

...Lester, who saw that Meg was like him, while observing her and her Beast...

...(and who didn't admit to himself, that he had a Beast too)...

...Meg who was so scared and worried out of her mind that Lester is in dander and is going to die in the cave of Trophonius that she kept trying to catch his attention and started singing in order to guarantee his safety...

...Lester, who selflessly agreed to give his life only if Meg is going to live; and then proceeded to put himself under risk of being suffocated...

...Meg who was helplessly watching how [her] dummy stabbed himself in the heart and fell limb (I am sure that for a second she was not sure if it was the end or not)...

...Lester who watched people he knew only for a few hours were killed for his sake, clearly not understanding why they would sacrifice themselves for him ("and, for some reason, Jason Grace decided that I would not die today too")...

...Meg, who was watching how her best friend was dying from poison; she didn't want him to die, she cried because she didn't want him to die...

...Lester who helped her to kill her Beast Nero... (I am sure that he is very proud of this achievement of hers)

...Lester, who promised her to come back, no matter what, because the sun always comes back...

Apollo, who did.

They, who became each other's family, because their families are shit (not all of the people/gods).

#lester papadopoulos #toa #meg mccaffrey #sunflower siblings #apollo #pjo #love them #they literally saved each other in different ways #they are ready to kill and die for eachother #and live #i think that lester would die for a cute puppy (who wouldn't)#or maybe he has depression #i think he has #yeah #trauma why not #i want to see them making each other hot chocolate at 2am in the kitchen cause they couldn't fall asleep #OR it was between 4th and 5th books abd they stopped at a gas station #at night and bought themselves hot chocolate #yesss #i need an additional book about that month? of them traveling through usa #siblings #i will find a way to dive into Lester's/Apollo's issues #and Lester's depression #because (headcanon) i am sure that it was not only depression but some sort of of e.d. (eating disorder) due to stress #or body dysphoria #but it is a headcanon #live to picture my trauma onto some beautiful losers of whom i am very-very proud #OH abd both of them grew mentally #i am proud of them

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danwhobrowses · 5 months

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For anyone else who is gonna struggle surviving the next 3 weeks with the angsty and tense situation of Callowmoore here's a few things from the last 2 episodes that I feel were underrated and will assist in trying to keep me sane/emotionally stable: - Matching messed up hands built for holding - Fearne nervously playing with her hair as she approaches Ashton - Ashton wanted Fearne to be either the last thing they saw if they died or the first thing they saw when they succeeded - Fearne's admittance corroborates Ashley's 4SD revelation that Fearne is in love with someone in the party but doesn't know how to process the emotions - Fearne wanted Ashton to be happy, while Ashton wanted to feel whole so they would be worthy of the Hells - Ashton twice tried to lead a search for Fearne, and instantly clocking onto Chetney saying he followed Fearne - Fearne making herself look as radiant as possible before giving Ashton the cold shoulder - Ashton only rose to Chetney's provocations until he said 'You hurt Fearne' Use how you will

#godspeed my poor damaged psyche #critical role #bells hells #callowmoore #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #fearne x ashton #ashton x fearne #strangely enough I don't enjoy having a dark and sad pit sitting in my chest day to day #3 weeks and we don't even get a cute M9 reunion in between to distract us? this was worse than Callowmoore's sistergate 3 week wait #also 'a little'? Sweetie people don't jump into lava for a little you got the big L and it's not Lesbian(s)#Feel like Laudna was a bit cruel this ep (Ash has been there for her a ton and she kinda villainized him) but we'll put it down to Delilah #much of Ashton's trauma has been overlooked or left to them to internalize but still nobody has told them that they are loved #and Ashton Greymoore needs to be told they're loved! (by Fearne)#but yeah time for more positive mental scenarios that 99% won't happen (but when that 1% does ho boy)#couldn't have just had Fearne go 'no talking' and sleep on Ash's chest to hear their heartbeat as her touch soothes Ash's pain could we?#or final fight scenarios where Ludinus is a walking harness and Ashton tricks them into absorbing their titan powers so he'd explode #they could've even had a talk in the woods because they wanted to find her so bad but was not gonna test Imogen's patience #I for one though will have at least one where Ashton seeks out Mori for advice (Fearne too but separately)#Tal I need you to use all your romantic arsenal in the feywild (Percy's worst travel experience) to win back Ashley's beautiful faun girl #bonus prompts for 'You will always be perfect to me' and 'Promise you'll come back to me' they pop up often in my scenarios #taliesin jaffe #ashley johnson

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jeysuso · 1 year

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They talking. People are saying there's cracks in the Bloodline. Now listen, I know there's issues going on, everything’s been crazy. We got a Sami Zayn problem, we got a Kevin Owens problem, me and you need to defend these tag team championships, and on top of that, I know you got issues with the Tribal Chief, and I can't do this alone.

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animegoil-vnc · 7 months

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thinking about how lu guang's biggest fear is being seen. whether in a literal way, with how shy and uncomfortable he is in front of a camera or other situation where he's the center of attention, or in a metaphorical way in the sense that it's very difficult to get any glimpse into what he's thinking or feeling at any moment - no one knows anything about him, and he keeps his cards very close to his chest (except for how much he cares about CXS, sorry, he failed *that* stealth check). and while there may be a plot-relevant reason for it if the time-traveling theories are true, he just seems like the kind of person who has a hard time opening up and being vulnerable - even the few times he smiles, it seems to be when no one is really looking at him. I also get the sense that he's probably a little too independent because he just doesn't know how to put himself out there and ask for help and how that can actually be one of the biggest challenges to overcome when you're in a relationship.

#link click #honestly i see him being a hot mess of hangups for totally different reasons than CXS #CXS has trauma #LG just has issues #(unless time traveling theory is true #then he also has trauma #lu guang

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mkstrigidae · 1 day

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APWH preview snippet!

Since I'm actively trying to work on getting the next few chapters out, I thought I'd share a little future scene with some hints of Jonsa with all you lovely people! This bit is from like, a few chapters in the future bc it's the in-between that's giving me fits right now :) (Fair warning: this is unedited and subject to change! That being said, it's such a fun scene that I can't imagine ever nixing it :D)

“Does he even know that they have to avoid the press?”

“For the last time-“ Sam sighed, sounding completely exasperated, “Dickon knows what they can and can’t do- he’s got enough practice not being photographed from when our dad was the secretary. Not to mention spending time around you when that exposé on your crazy grandfather came out two years ago.”

“I just-“ Jon sighed, blowing a stray curl out of his face. “You didn’t see how freaked out she was when the press caught us at that performance in White Harbor. I thought she was going to have a full-blown panic attack.”

He was immediately derailed by Gilly plopping little Sam down in his lap and shoving a bottle into his hands.

“What’s this all about?” he raised a brow, adjusting the baby on his lap, allowing him to latch onto the cuff of his flannel shirt and start gnawing at the fabric. “You going somewhere?”

Gilly shot him a withering look, but he saw the amusement in her eyes.

“I-“ she gestured, imperiously, “Have not had time by myself to shower all week-“

“Sorry, love.” Sam winced, looking up from his pile of paperwork. “I can take a break from these-“

“Not your fault, Sam.” she waved him off. “You warned me about this conference at the beginning of the summer.” a grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, it works out well- Jon needs a distraction right now from the fact that Sansa’s on a date with your extremely hot and conventionally attractive brother.”

“Hey!” Sam looked wounded, and Gilly rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You know you’re my favorite Tarly.” she wrinkled her nose. “How long have you been working on this presentation? You smell like the baby spit up on you.”

“Guess I’m next in line for showers.” Sam said, mournfully. “Unless-“

“Nope- I need my own time right now, Samwell. Did you even hear what I said about why Jon’s bent out of shape?”

Jon had known Gilly since Sam and she had met up north while the two of them were in college. Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the timid, scared girl she had been with the woman who was currently devoting all of her remaining energy to busting his balls.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about Sansa with my brother.” Sam snorted, shotgunning another cup of coffee next to him the way Jon was used to seeing undergrads do with jaeger shots. “I mean, this is Dickon we’re talking about. Used to bring wounded animals home to take care of them Dickon? The same guy who cried when we had movie night and Gilly and Rhae wanted to go see ‘Love, Simon’?” He shook his head. “Look, as far as guys she could be out on a date with right now go, Dickon’s kind of the best case scenario. She’ll have a nice time, and he’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

Jon blinked at him, silently turning to look up at Gilly, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You’re hopeless, sweetie.” she kissed him on the forehead again, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not worried that things will go wrong- he’s worried they’ll go a little too well.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time around my sister.” Jon muttered, narrowly avoiding little Sam’s grasping reach for his glasses, managing to get the baby to latch onto the bottle before he destroyed any more of Jon’s eyewear. “You even sounded like her just then.”

Sam blinked for a second, his head whipping between Jon and Gilly.“You’re jealous?” He asked, incredulously. “Of Dickon? Wait- you like Sansa?”

“Got there in the end.” Gilly sighed, affectionately patting him on the shoulder before going to shower, leaving Jon and Sam behind with four cups of coffee, one baby, and approximately five brain cells total between the two of them.

“You like her.” Sam repeated, like it was a giant revelation.

“What are we- in middle school?” Jon hissed, immediately turning his head down to smile and make faces at little Sam while he fed him, before glaring up at big Sam again. “I don’t- I mean-“

Sam was just shaking his head.“Of course you do.” he laughed. “Should have guessed- red hair and a damsel in distress? You were doomed from the outset.”

“Shut up.” Jon muttered, flushing. “It’s not like that.”

“Then why are you worrying about Dickon for fu-“ Sam glanced nervously at the baby, “-god’s sake? When Gill was meeting my family for the first time, I remember you told her not to worry- that my brother was ‘one of the best guys you know’ and ‘practically a golden retriever’.”

Jon could tell that Sam, who could not raise one eyebrow without the other, was desperately trying to do just that.

“I don’t know.” He muttered, moving little Sam to his shoulder to start burping him. “Look- I’m attracted to her, alright? It’s a fu- er, a giant disaster that I’m gonna ignore for the rest of my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Stop trying to do that with your eyebrows.” Jon complained. “It’s giving me motion sickness. And yes, seriously. I’m not even going to consider that- it’s just a stupid crush. Besides,” he sighed, rubbing little Sam’s back comfortingly, “Robb’s already dealing with enough right now with this whole Sansa situation- can’t imagine telling him I think his sister’s attractive while he’s being forced to suddenly confront all of his guilt and self loathing every time he looks at her.”

“That whole bro code thing of never dating your friend’s sisters never really made sense to me.” Sam shook his head, gulping down more coffee. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you decided to date Talla, because I know you’d be good to her.”

“Yeah, don't think she'd quite go for that, mate.” Jon snorted, standing to bounce little Sam around gently. He was just grateful Sam hadn’t said anything else about Robb.

“Eh, wouldn’t count you out completely.” Sam shrugged, smirking. “With that hair, you’re pretty enough to be a girl- maybe that’d be enough for her.”

“You are so lucky i’m holding the baby.” Jon muttered, still bouncing little Sam, who picked that moment to spit up spectacularly down Jon’s back.

“Well, that’s three of us who’re gonna need showers now.” Sam grinned, looking thrilled as all get out that it hadn’t been him. “Wow- his aim is getting better.”

“I’m going to remind him of this when he’s a sulky teenager.” Jon grumbled, wiping spit-up off his shoulder as best he could. “Look- no gossiping with Rhae about this, please. She thinks she’s such a good clandestine agent that she doesn’t always realize that Robb is better at sniffing out her plots than she thinks.”

“Alright-“ Sam sighed, looking back down at the massive stack of paperwork in front of him. “I make no promises for Gill, though.”

“Gilly could give some of my Uncle’s colleagues at the WIA a run for their money when it comes to withstanding interrogation.” Jon snorted.

“Probably true.”

“Where did your brother take Sansa?” Still holding onto a now much happier baby with one hand, he reached down the other to take a gulp of his own coffee.

“He said something about going out towards the Tyrell Estate.” Sam shrugged. “They probably drove out there to see the gardens- he’s said it’s a good road to take his bike out on.”

Jon promptly spat out his entire sip of coffee, staining the front of his shirt as well as the back, and frightening little Sam enough that he started to cry.

“He took her on his motorcycle?”

Gilly picked that moment to reappear, completely clean and with wet hair, blinking at the scene in front of her.

Sam, who couldn’t seem to stop laughing, was desperately trying to calm down the baby, who had started wailing, while Jon’s entire front was covered in coffee and his entire back was covered in baby vomit. Not that he seemed to notice, as his face was white and he was making a series of angry looking hand gestures at her husband.

“I really can’t leave you three alone for five minutes, can I?” she sighed. “Do I even want to know?”

#my writing #my wips #writing wips #just APWH things #jonsa #fanfiction wip #God bless Gilly like for real #YES Sansa is on a date with someone else here #muscleman golden retriever McAttractiveness #Aka dickon tarly #unsurprisingly jon is not having a great time about it!#in fairness to sansa the plotline directly preceding this and kicking off her doing some traveling was pretty rough on her #so our poor girl really deserves a giant muscley golden retriever with a motorcycle #and to just have a good time with someone who isn't wrapped up in all the stark drama/disaster/mess etc.#jon can deal with it rn bc it's really a 'you snooze you lose' kind of situation #sam's usually quicker on the draw but he's very sleep deprived here #and working on some stuff for a pathology conference #not at all going to be relevant nope no sir #writing sam and jon interacting vs jon and robb is so fascinating #they're both jon's besties but there's a very different dynamic to the two relationships #in fairness Robb has like SO much complex childhood trauma and is kind of seriously going through it right now #but his scenes with jon always have this sort of darker edge to them #like an 'i've known you my entire life and know everything about you for better or worse' type deal- deeper but darker #it's more akin to a sibling relationship? but also not? they are both going thru it #my headcanon is that anytime jon starts getting too gloomy and angsty gilly just straight up shoves the baby at him #and then waits like twenty minutes #Gilly: 'it's free babysitting!'#generally it works pretty well #jon's like '404 error does not compute' as soon as sam says the word 'motorcycle'#also when sam says 'the secretary' he means randyll tarly was the secretary of defense

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sesamenom · 5 months

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Hunting of the Dragon

What if the Arkenstone really was a Silmaril? (very late, but inspired by arofili's @funwithfanon prompts from last march!)

click for quality | closeups & details under the cut

Galadriel, Celeborn, and Thranduil are the only people on the right side of the mountains that a) have fought a dragon (mostly in the war of wrath) b) remember the Hunting of the Wolf and c) are mentally stable enough to be trusted around a silmaril (more or less)

so of course they end up having to fight silmaril-raged smaug. (he sat on it and now it's stuck to his bald spot)

since the sindar don't have metal armor galadriel is the only tank, and therefore the person on dragon-stabbing duty.

celeborn is the spearman in charge of keeping smaug from escaping or mauling someone else (and also making sure the silmaril doesn't fall on galadriels head, because at that point it definitely would still burn her)

thranduil is supposed to be doing air control to keep smaug from flying up and torching everyone, but he decided it would be a great idea to jump-dive at the dragon's head.

(version with fire because i couldnt decide which one i liked better)

#silm #silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #galadriel #celeborn #thranduil #smaug #elrond would have also been volunteered for dragon-stabbing if only he lived less than a year of travel west of the lonely mountain #daeron is probably in the area but he has never fought a dragon and also would probably have a nauglamir-trauma breakdown #of all of them galadriel is probably the most used to dealing with the silmaril light since she basically has a silmaril for hair #celeborn and thranduil lived in doriath for long enough to at least know what to expect #the dwarves are currently too scattered to be of much help (unless thrain wants to pull an azaghal)#unfortunatley smaug has wings; less respect than glaurung; and far less things to distract him #so a mid battle funeral would be rather ill advised #galadriel is reckless enough to dive at smaugs face #but she is also experienced enough at dragons to know that stabbing it is generally more effective

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summertimemusician · 7 months

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Linktober Day 6

Mask(s)

Soft and sweet with just a hint of melancholic because 1.I'm tired and probably need a nap father than coffee, 2.I actually managed to make a pretty good mocha and the Anchorage LOZ animatic came onto my playlist before writing this and it kind of influenced my mood, and 3. I'm saving the usual Majora's Mask flare of angst for another prompt because I was having way too much fun dissecting the tragedy of the Hero of Time before sleep deprivation snatched the idea away which is usually my sign to pass the heck out and save the second option for when I have more energy lol.

For the Warriors fans, also Warriors is a disaster of an older sibling but we adore and appreciate him for it in this household, as always can be implied romantic or platonic between him and reader.

You were all but pinned down to the ground, brought down more effectively and unable to find the strength to get up.

Well, not literally, there were no enemies nearby, the chaos at camp had long since died down and there wasn’t anything much to do now that night had fallen, the heavens deigning to put all of it’s glittering jewels on display.

Were it any other day you’d probably focus more on appreciating it in full, the fire was crackling merrily, you were safe and had a full stomach and even with the ever present threat of the Shadow possibly deciding to ambush you all while most of your guards were down, you had your boys with you and the crisp autumn petrichor was a balm on your soul, weary from the journey.

Maybe it would be fine to rest for a little while.

And then the small figure clinging to you flinched, burrowing closer and holding onto your tunic like a lifeline. And awareness came to you like a smack over the head with a log, your fingers gently carding through blond locks as you hum gently. Weighting options and just how quietly you could move without bothering the precious Sprite at your side.

You had guessed Time had been a sweet kid, and you still wanted to lodge a formal complaint with the gods for writing such cruel fate for him because the man couldn’t catch a break and you’re not the only one to take it personally. But he was killing you here, this is how you die, with an adorable but oh so heartbreakingly sad little boy having fallen asleep leaning against you after telling you all sorts of stories about his extensive mask collection.

(You don’t know wether you want to cry, scream or laugh, Mask was so, so young. It breaks your heart, just a little.

Really, the deities of Hyrule must adore tragedies. Bastards.)

Sighing, you decide to compromise, gently keeping the Kokiri boy right where he is, fast asleep and with barely any nightmares as you hum and card your fingers through the spun gold strands, you brush your fingers through the last masks he fell asleep mid through telling the story of how he’d acquired. If you were careful surely you’d be able to reach his pack on his side so he wouldn’t worry later.

A pair of brown boots invade your vision, Warriors crouches down. You think you spot a flash of surprise on his eyes as he spots Mask napping on you, and then fond amusement of a big brother you knew he directed often towards Wind, tone low, “Well would you look at that, out like a light. It’s a rare honor for him to trust anyone like this.”

You chuckle a bit, shaking your head, “I can tell, he’s a good kid. I’ve barely met him for a day and I’d already take on an army for him.”

“Welcome to my world.”, comes Warriors dry response, though you both knew he was a hundred percent serious, his own mask quickly falling away as he gently picked up the Deku Sprout Mask to put it back in the small sprite’s pouch, hiding it’s confused, fearful sadness from your gaze (and it’s an effort, not to twitch, as your rage towards Majora gained even more kindling to burn) as the soldier handled it with the due solemnity of being one of the few Mask would allow to even touch the masks without his immediate supervision, “... I never thought I’d see him again, as...”

“I know.” Your tone was quiet, as you carefully picked your choice of words.

If there’s one thing you knew about any Link, is that they’re all really good elder brother’s and that they are too hard on themselves. Warriors specially, Mask and Wind were his everything, there wouldn’t be words that could describe how gutted he was, after confirming his suspicions with you, regretting not saying anything against Mask joining the battle field back then, loathing himself for not convincing him or Lana into letting him stay in spite of his bad feeling that as soon as the young hero of time passed through that portal he was unlikely to ever meet him again.

... You settle for something simple, instead, reaching a hand to softly pat his head, taking care not to mess his hair too much, “You did good, Wars, it’s not your fault. Mask also knows you did your best.”

He still, sighing, the mask falling away as he guides your hand to his lips, quietly thankful (really, like big brother like little brother, your wonderful, silly, caring boys. You make a point to cheerfully bat away the butterflies in your stomach, ), “... Feels hard to believe that, some times. Thank you.”

You hum, after putting the Zora mask away, Warriors takes Mask’s other side, pulls you closer and breathes.

(Just in case, he lies to himself.)

You quietly listen to his stories about his little brother, and Warriors is content.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe warriors x reader #will I ever post the original story I was gonna use for this prompt?#who knows certainly not my sleep deprived self lol #more implied than romantic if you ask me but frankly that's about what I expected when Warriors decided to show up on this prompt #man is the most charming of the Chain but you can't tell me he would know where to begin with any sort of romantic feelings #so lots of unspoken understanding happens here instead so it's up to interpretation lol #Reader: I've had Mask for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I'd murder everyone in Hyrule and then myself.#Warriors. Approving: I know this. And I love you (feeling unspecified).#The Rest of the Chain: And we support you #Is Warriors wanting to be close in reference to the Kohga prompt?#Does he just want Mask and Reader close because he is smart enough to infer what happens to him #Does he just want them there because like all Links he has several abandonment issues?#Who knows! I just know that he is rife with trauma tokens so you all can spin the wheel and decide #Mask is probably Warriors biggest regret and I am going to shake people about it if not stopped #You can't tell me that he wouldn't have wanted to take him in once he learned he was an orphan traveling all alone with his pony in the WoA #All Links are big sibling coded just on different wavelengths #The WoA was just Wars accidentally picking up several feral strays while a war happened in the back #ex Mask Wind Tetra Skull Kid and Linkle #summer writes linktober 2023 #summer writes

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cyberscratch · 10 months

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A new ref for Lemmy, and an official design and introduction of Limmy in This Universe Has Lemons In It! Limmy was created by the Guardian of the Lemonverse (any pronouns) as an attempt to stop Lemmy from what they are doing, which is creating portals to travel through various universes and dimensions to have fun. Not only is that a risk for the balance of the universe, but GotL just dislikes this kid having fun and wants to see them stopped.

Not wanting to do it in it's own hands, it created Limmy, an angel dog meant to be an direct opposite to Lemmy. Limmy, however, doesn't do much to stop Lemmy, other than following them and bickering. Their relationship is very Tom and Jerry rivalry-esk.

(Names color coded for myself to read easier due to the similar names!)

Fun fact, Limmy was originally going to be based on limes (Lime Angel), but I kept that concept for GotL - and made them more angel-like instead.

#GotL as he has been named for the time being uses any pronouns but it/he are the most used just saying #also this little story/oc universe has been planned for a while so i find it funny that GotL has basically the same motivations #miguel in across the spiderverse minus the trauma and more godly power #i just always had an fascination with like...the idea of the universe...multiverses...different dimensions and traveling across them #ive included this in most if not all my oc projects like this actually! at first mostly inspired by gravity falls #which is literally my favorite cartoon ever #i am watching a 2 and a half long video on the timeline rn its so good please watch it its by hana hyperfixates. while working on this i #watched their first 2 hour long gravity falls video. literally newest favorite video essay project? its very good it talks about queerness #in gravity falls and its their passion project and its so obvious there was a lot of effort put into it. anyways away from my tangent i go #'lemmy' put my actual tags here #oc art #character design #oc ref #ref #tuhlii #this universe has lemons in it #lemon demon #UNSURE again if i wanna use '-core' tags on this. i dont like using them much anymore and im only gonna use 'weirdcore' for some kind of #music bc theres no specifics to what type of music i exactly like that lemmy is also based on aside from lemon demon of course #[Lemmy]#[Limmy]#guz art #[2023]#fun fact! i spent like 20+ or so minutes stressing over GotL's possible name until i settled on this goofy title!#its meant to found goofy. like at first you think its gonna sound cool and then youre hit with 'lemonverse'#which it...technically is! where lemmy is from it's like... a connected bunch of worlds and universes and just places all based on #lemon demon songs and other content. tuhlii is basically a love letter to ena + lemon demon + old/childhood internet ?

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psitaniumpsichosis · 2 months

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"I mean, come on Lili! All of my nightmares have been coming true as it is-- Sasha and Milla disappearing, Gristol disappearing, almost drowning!! I mean, if it weren't for Dion stopping the flood, I'd..."

Hello!! I wanted to do some lore art for Time Travel Terrors, namely some vague-ish stuff about Raz's prerecognition and why he's so scared of water again. As for the Dion and missing persons.. we'll get to them later :)

#psychonauts razputin #psychonauts #razputin aquato #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts au #psychonauts fanart #psychonauts ttt #psychonauts time travel terrors #raz has trauma #everything is going wrong and he can't do anything

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logicalbookthief · 2 years

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If you're still taking writing prompts, how about 62 or 72 with Darius and Hunter? 👀 Your choice. I think that anything of yours about those two would be a great read. But no pressure if you already have your plate full!

72. “There’s always another way.”

@thyandrawrites thank you for dadrius prompt and for giving me an excuse to write a one-shot for an AU I will probably not have the chance to write in its totality <3333

Anyway, this basically an AU where the whole Day of Unity/Collector fiasco ends tragically for everyone, but Darius wakes up back in time during the events of Eclipse Lake and thinks he may be able to prevent it, despite the massive amounts of PTSD.

Enjoy!

Darius?

He recognizes that voice. That annoying little voice, pestering him with questions, asking for advice, or his orders. It prods his mind like sunlight peeking through the curtains, urging him awake.

Darius? Darius, wake up!

Waking would be agony. His body remembers, even if his brain has yet to catch up. Veins of gold fracturing up his arm, his shoulder, his neck. His throat tightens, it burns, he can’t breathe, or cry out, they’re too late, it’s too late, to—

Wake up!

Darius shoots up in bed. Eyes flying open, searching for... For the boy, that’s who the voice belongs to, where is...?

Where am I?

His vision swims for another second or so before it clears. He’s alone. Alone in his room.

A room that isn’t in shambles. A castle still in-tact.

Darius yanks down his sleeve. Stares at the skin of his sigil, no longer inflamed, or fractured by scars. He inhales sharply, scrambling to his feet.

The date on the calendar isn’t correct. The date says they have weeks until the Day of Unity, the eclipse, the Collector—

His lungs seize impatiently. Choking on the breath he forgot to let out.

Flummoxed, Darius staggers back, missing the bed and landing hard on the floor. The pain is real, grounding. There’s a layer of dust beneath his fingertips, and that’s real, too; he hasn’t had the time to clean, too focused on averting the end of the world. An end that’s already come to pass.

Am I really...?

Time travel does not exist, he reminds himself, rather deliriously, given the circumstances. How else does he explain this anomaly? Even the Collector’s nigh-infinite power can’t warp the past.

Could it be a trick, an illusion cast over his mind? For what purpose? No, the Collector was just a child too callous when handling his toys. Malicious, yes, not calculating enough for this — whatever cruelty this is.

Darius never paid much heed to the Titan’s will, even prior to the revelation it was all a ruse. If he were a Titan-fearing man, this certainly seems like some divine form of punishment. To force him to witness it all over again, fully aware of the hollow victory their initial failure spawns—all the friends he loses, sacrificed to the greater good, which turned out to be a mediocre good at best—

As far as panic attacks go, it isn’t the worst he’s experienced. Not when he’s intimate enough with death to distinguish the difference now, the what separates this fire-laced fear in his chest from the dread of knowing you and all your loved ones will die as you’re dying.

Tension settles beneath his ribcage, tugging helplessly at his heart. Ignorance is bliss, he thinks, if it means with walking into this rebellion with eyes blinded by hope. Instead of being dragged back while knowing there’s no way to stop—

There’s always another way.

He recognizes that voice, too, even if it’s distorted, as though traveling over a distance. The whisper of it eases his pulse, eases his mind out of its panic, anchoring him in a moment much further in the past.

“Well, I’m no oracle, but…” The Golden Guard surveys the room, deftly dodging a splatter of abomination as it drips from the ceiling. “I suspect you have a shift full of cleaning duty in your future.”

“I can’t get this spell right,” Darius groans, picking flecks of goop out of his hair. “I’ve followed all the instructions, done everything right, and yet—”

He gestures to the cauldron, still bubbling with sinister intent. Mocking him.

“Oof,” the Golden Guard grunts eloquently. He bends down to examine the mixture. “Any idea where you’re going wrong?”

Darius scowls. “Did you miss the part where I mentioned I’ve done everything right?”

“What I mean is,” he interjects, wryly. “Have you tried approaching it from a different angle?”

Frowning, Darius crosses his arms. “This is the way the book says to do it,” he mutters, defensively. Even a hack like Alador can follow the instructions.

The Golden Guard chuckles. “Trust me,” he says, and, though it’s perhaps to his detriment in the long run, Darius does. “There’s always another way.”

Reminded of his mentor’s advice, Darius exhales. Dusts off his clothes. Reassess.

The Day of Unity is weeks away. Belos is still alive, still plotting to destroy every witch in the Boiling Isles. The Day of Unity is weeks away, and Darius knows, he knows precisely what they failed to do before, and precisely what they need to do to ensure it won’t happen again.

Maybe this isn’t a cruel, cosmic joke. Maybe this is a second chance.

He checks the calendar once more. He can’t remember anything remarkable about this day in particular, though it hardly matters, when he intends to change the outcome of it all.

Coven meeting in thirty minutes.

Rushing through his routine, Darius manages to look fairly presentable, all things considered. Operating on muscle memory, he walks through the castle halls without any stumbles, as if he’s never left. It feels a bit like he’s sleepwalking.

“If this is a dream,” he grumbles to himself. “It is a very long, elaborate one.”

Surreal or no, the familiarity will work in his favor. He resolves to appear as normal as possible, since that was the folly of their last plan. Terra suspected Raine from the start and saw the betrayal coming.

Fortunately, Darius’s superior acting will be able to pass the test of scrutiny.

He hears the pitter-patter of claws against the tile, a swoop in the air, and then there’s a weight on his shoulder, the bristle of unruly fur against his cape. Darius stiffens.

Scalpel against his throat, eyes blown wide in fear, a fear he’s rarely witnessed in his friend. Darius can’t move, can’t do anything as he’s restrained, can’t do anything as the draining spell begins, his friend collapsing in pain despite all his efforts to save—

Jumping down off his shoulder, Eberwolf tilts his head. Something wrong?

Darius forces out a scoff. “Nothing of note,” he replies, shortly. Any lingering traces of turmoil could be blamed on irritation. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Eberwolf falls into step aside of him. It’s your bed.

“You have no room to talk. You sleep in a pile of filthy fur pelts on the floor.”

And of the two of us, who looks more rejuvenated? Eberwolf preens.

He scowls half-heartedly, too busy swelling with joy. Titan, he missed this bickering.

Meeting with the coven-heads should be a cinch, now that he’s already had this episode with Eber. He’ll be prepared to handle these emotional outbursts should they try to inconvenience him again.

Nothing prepares Darius for the sight of Raine, standing awkwardly next to Terra, waiting for everyone to arrive.

A bard should never be as silent as this. The draining spell left all of them groggy, weak. Raine has yet to stir. Not even as Eda pleads, and sobs, and cradles their body, which is still except for the gentle rise of their chest.

Whatever strength they needed to wake was used up to save the woman they loved. Even as the world screams, a symphony of terror and noise, Raine remains silent. Catatonic, alive in name only...

“Something the matter, Darius?” asks Terra, an ice-cold echo of Eber’s concern. Her voice snaps him back to the present, realizing he’s now the subject of her undivided curiosity, bordering on suspicion. Fuck.

“Yes,” he deadpans, pointing to Raine’s vest. Today it’s a rotted burgundy color. “That eyesore of an outfit caused a momentary lapse in composure.”

Raine pulls a face, shooting Darius a look. Laying it on a little thick there, aren’t you?

You’ll thank me later, songbird. “Remind me to bleach that image from my eyeballs when we’re done here.”

Terra chuckles, not bothering to hide her amusement. That was the trick with the old crone, he’s learned. Keep her entertained and she’s no trouble.

The meeting goes by without another incident. Darius stalks off on his own in search of “eye bleach” afterwards. It gives him a chance to sift through his swirling thoughts, which keep circling back to how this occurred. He removes time-portals from the equation, since it’s solely his consciousness that’s done the traveling.

Out-of-body experiences reek of oracle magic. Loathe as he is to admit, he could use Odalia’s consult on this, though the cost would be enduring her smugness. However, she was a bit too chummy with Kikimora, as he recalls...

Darius wrinkles his nose. Decides he’d rather eat his own boot than ask her for help.

He’s pondering so intently that he fails to look as he’s turning the corner, colliding right into someone else.

“Watch where you’re going!”

That voice. Full of anger, and no small amount of irritation, as its owner tries to brush past the coven head.

Without a second’s hesitation, Darius catches the kid by the wrist, both of them freezing in the middle of corridor. Suddenly, he’s struggling to breathe past the smell of smoke—

—smoke paints the sky black. Flecks of gold mingled in the ash that springs from the from the pyre.

Belos howls against his bindings, very nearly free. The youngest of the Golden Guards stands vigil.

“This curse of our family ends with you,” he vows, a flame glyph clenched in his fist. His words are grim, final. “And with me.”

Darius realizes too late what he means. He isn’t fast enough.

The wire trips, the trap set—

Hunter glares at his lack of response. "What do you want?" he asks wearily. "And why are you staring at me like—mmph!"

His yelp is muffled against Darius's chest as he’s crushed in an embrace. The boy squirms, radiating his uncertainty. Darius holds tighter, reassured by his fluttery pulse. His hand clasps against hair that’s still blonde, not blackened by soot. Skin not blistered, or burnt, his remains distorted beyond recognition. No, Hunter is alive, and whole, and nothing could ever compel Darius to let go—

Something smears onto glove.

"Ack!" Darius gasps, shoving the boy to arm’s length. He glowers at the state of his clothes. "Gross! You're covered in sludge!"

"Well, it wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn't tried to smother me!" Hunter sputters.

"I wasn't smothering you,” he snaps. “That was a hug. Do you not understand what a hug is?"

“A what?” Hunter exclaims, answering that succinctly. “Did you hit your head recently!? Should I call the healing coven?”

Darius pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. His hand’s trembling, but he doubts Hettie Cutburn has anything that will treat this unique brand of head trauma.

"I was...” He fumbles to explain to Hunter, this Hunter, who has no reason trust his word, steadfastly devoted to the emperor. He hasn’t the faintest clue what sort of danger he’s in. Hasn’t an inkling of the fate that awaits him, a graveyard of golden masks and bones…

Titan, does he even have Flapjack yet? Has he met Eda’s human? Too many liabilities. So many ways this single, persistent child could compromise the mission.

If he was smart, Darius would leave him alone. Claim temporary insanity and push the kid aside, just as he’s done a hundred times before. Hunter would barely notice, accustomed to this kind of neglect.

Besides, the sooner he defeats Belos, the sooner he saves Hunter, and everyone else. When this is over, he can apologize properly, and make up for it, and—

“Let me help,” Hunter beseeches. “I know my uncle better than anyone. And I learned plenty about my family in the human realm,” he adds, grimacing. “I know what I have to do.”

Darius’s exhaustion is bone-deep by this point. Somehow he summons the energy for a smile, threadbare as it is. “Forget it, kid.”

Hunter frowns. “After the draining spell, you’re short on able-bodied witches. I’m no witch, but after all this, you can’t seriously be underestimating me.”

“What about your friends?” Darius retorts. “Would you allow them to join such a mission?”

“They’re kids.” Hunter’s resolve hardens. “Real kids, with families, and homes. I belong here. Fighting, following orders. It’s what I know what to do, what I was made for.”

Stiltedly, Darius opens his mouth, unsure of how to broach the subject. This conversation confirms what he assumed already, that Hunter has no relatives, and nowhere to go.

You could have a home with me, he wants to say, but a shout from Eda draws his attention. It sounds urgent, more important, so Darius shelves the discussion for later. They’ll have time, he thinks, once this is over. It can wait...

“I was checking on you,” he rushes out, stunning the boy into silence. “You look a bit, um. Banged up.”

"Yeah, you would look that way too if you were traipsing around in the mines all day, searching for Titan’s blood.”

“At the Knee?” Darius knits his brow. Belos needs Titan’s blood for the portal. Why send his scouts on a such a fruitless endeavor? “Those mines have been dry for decades.”

“Wish you would’ve told me earlier,” Hunter mumbles. “Nothing left to find there except fool’s blood.”

“Fool’s blood is highly unstable,” Darius says with growing horror. He examines the boy’s face more closely, noting that he’s littered with cuts and bruises, most of it superficial.

“That’s what I said!” Hunter exclaims, throwing his arms in the air. “Try telling the idiot Owl Lady and her rat that.”

So he’s definitely met Edalyn, judging by his utter frustration. Darius huffs out a laugh, short-lived as he glimpses the nasty-looking cut on his forehead, hopefully not caused by any explosions.

He moves to tuck that errant strand of hair out of the way so he can get a better view. Hunter flinches from the touch. “Get away from me,” he says, waspily.

Obligingly, Darius backpedals. “You look like you’re ready to collapse,” he observes, perhaps a bit hypocritically, when he’s teetering over the edge of exhaustion himself.

“Because I’m tired,” Hunter murmurs, the bags under his eyes darker than usual. Despite his admission, he says, “If you’re finished with your weird little interrogation, I have work to do.”

Good, he’s leaving of his own volition. Just let him pass—

Panic blooms in his chest. Burning, frantic and baseless. For Titan’s sake, it isn’t the kid will meet some terrible fate the moment he leaves his sight!

His feet act on their own accord, stepping in front of him and blocking his path. Hunter groans.

“Wait!” Darius halts. Tries to think of something, anything that could detain the boy without drawing suspicion. “Are- Are you hungry?”

Of the excuses he could’ve conjured, that’s a contender for the stupidest.

Hunter opens his mouth, all ready with a snide reply, but he’s interrupted by a long, rumbling growl from his stomach. He flushes, teeth clicking shut.

That’s a yes. Darius smirks victoriously, motioning for Hunter to follow. Reluctantly, the boy complies.

__________________

“Stop staring at me,” Darius snaps, though there’s no heat behind it, unless he counts the steam wafting from his cup. “Didn’t anybody ever teach you manners?”

“I’m confused,” Hunter shrugs by way of response. Darius shoves a tin bowl of cookies in his direction as a distraction.

He didn’t mention that any food in his room was whatever snacks Eberwolf hadn’t eaten from his cheat-day stash.

“You have literally never invited me to tea,” Hunter points out. “Or tolerated me for longer than ten-minute increments.”

“That is... Oddly specific.” And incredibly sad. He acted so arrogant as the Golden Guard, trying to boss around adults that he technically outranked, but who was supposed to take a child seriously? It was such an effective front that it never occurred to Darius that Hunter may be aware of how disliked he was among the coven heads.

There was a lot you didn’t consider.

Oblivious to his guilt, Hunter nods. “Your record is higher than most coven heads. Graye can only stand me for four minutes at best.”

“Maybe I should keep you around,” Darius snorts. “Save me the headache of dealing with him.”

Hunter cracks a smile. He munches on a cookie from the tin, seemingly without a care for how stale they are, quickly grabbing another. While he’s scattering crumbs all over his table, Darius sets his cup down, surreptitiously gathering the medical kit he snuck over with the kettle.

When he realizes his intent, Hunter grunts and bats his hand away. “I told you—”

“Hold still,” Darius barks. Regrets it when Hunter goes rigid, instantly obeying. Softly, he dabs at the cut with disinfectant. “Don’t be , it won’t hurt you. This looks like it smarts, though.”

“This? No,” Hunter scoffs. “I’ve had worse.”

He brandishes this fact proudly, a badge of honor. It comes across rather differently to Darius, a child who doesn’t know any better. His gaze flicks over to the scar on the boy's face and decides they both need a distraction.

Luckily, the boy loves to talk, so Darius asks, “Was your mission a success?”

“It...” He deflates at the question, visibly wavering. “The emperor didn’t seem pleased with me.”

Rage overwhelms his senses, because he knows, he knows now what a displeased Belos means for the boy. He manages to reign in his anger. Barely.

“Oh?” he says, faux-casually.

“I sort of. Disobeyed his orders.” Hunter winces in a way that has nothing to do with the disinfectant. “But! I got what he needed! Which is more than Kikimora can say.”

He smirks at this, although it’s bittersweet at best.

“Any other complications?” Darius fishes, applying a bandage over the cut. “You mentioned the Owl Lady.”

“She was there,” Hunter confirms. “And the youngest Blight.”

Interesting. He files away that information for later.

“We fought over the Titan’s blood, and I...” Hunter dithers for a while, sipping at his tea. His fingers twitch restlessly against the ceramic. “I did what I had to do to win. And I fulfilled my mission, so I should be happy, shouldn’t I?”

He doesn’t wait for a response.

“Only she said some things and I... I didn’t want to fight her, really. Or resort to what I did to win. But it was the Titan’s will that Belos have that key, I did what I was supposed to do.” Hunter dares to glance at Darius, who’s listened patiently up to this point. “So why do I feel like I... Like I did something awful? That’s stupid, right? They were the ones opposing the emperor, after all.”

Being a spy is striking a delicate balance between what’s true and what’s necessary. He could tell Hunter the entire, sordid truth right here, right now ... and he would certainly be executed for treason by the next morning. He should be allowed to come to these conclusions naturally, like he is already, and on his own terms...

...though that’s not to say he couldn’t do with some prodding.

“In the coven, there’s no room for second-guessing. You use any method you have to in order to succeed. The ends justify the means and all that.”

“Exactly! You understand.” Hunter sounds relieved, his shoulders sagging with the weight of it removed.

“I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, little prince.” Darius smiles thinly, closing his eyes against the twinge of a headache. “Whatever you’re willing to do, you have to ask yourself — what is this going to cost me? What am I willing to pay?”

Scalpels. Silence.

Fire, everywhere.

He opens his eyes.

“Never mind the emperor for a moment,” he says, fiercely. Hunter balks, taken aback by this blasphemy. “Will you be able to live with the consequences?”

Hunter fidgets with the hem of his cloak, which has yet to be repaired. “I had to,” he whispers, though to whom, Darius isn’t sure. “It was the only way.”

“There is always another way,” Darius imparts. “That was something your predecessor taught me.”

“You knew the Golden Guard who was before me?” asks Hunter, the words skipping over each other in his excitement. Crumbs spew from the corners of his mouth. “What else did he teach you?

“Not to chew with my mouth open, for one,” Darius grumbles. He bops the crown of his head with the side of his palm, despising how it makes Hunter flinch. He’ll ensure that in his timeline, Belos dies a much slower, painful death. “Sit down. I’ll tell you anything you want about my mentor on one condition.”

Hunter nods eagerly.

“If you get hurt like this again, or at all, you’ll come to me for help.” Darius raises his eyebrows at the kid, awaiting his agreement. “Deal?”

Though he seems rather stunned by the terms, his curiosity outweighs everything else. “Deal.”

#the owl house #toh fic #darius deamonne #hunter toh #dadrius #raine whispers #eberwolf #darius-centric fic that just gives him and hunter more trauma my beloved #he really is like 'oh thank titan I'M the one who time-traveled because I am the most composed I can compartmentalize this no problem'#then he gets one glimpse of his loved ones he thought he lost and has five consecutive mental breakdowns

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