#soulcluster

It had been a while since finally, finally, Cynthia and Gerome got together. It felt like it took a lifetime, but they finally did it. She was practically at his side at all times, completely unable to stay away from him. She couldn't help herself!

There was only one problem. One teeny tiny problem. And really, it wasn't a big deal, but she wanted him. A lot. Badly. Desperately.

It wasn't like she hadn't tried hinting at it. She'd tried once when he had her pinned down in training, and she'd told Gerome she was all his. She tried to move against him just a little while they made out. The point is, she had been trying, so either Gerome was willfully ignoring her, or he didn't know.

Knowing Gerome, it could be either.

They were alone in her tent. Eventually, he'll have to do the walk of shame back to his tent, and her window would close. She needed to act fast. She needed to-

It was probably a horrible idea.

That was what Amara kept telling herself, at least. Yet her feet still carried as if on their own towards the stables. Towards him.

She knew he would be there. She knew him as well as she knew herself - or at least, she liked to think she did. Rory had been one of her closest friends since they were just children. Since he was only a new squire, and Amara had followed him around, trying to get him to play knights with her. Ever since she had met him he had been her favorite companion, her confidante. Her crush. Her first love.

And the Grey Wardens would be taking him away from her. Duncan had asked her about him, what she knew. Although it had hurt her to tell him how wonderful Ser Gilmore was, knowing that her praise could mean that the Wardens would choose to recruit him, she also could not lie. Not when she knew how much it would mean to Rory to have a chance to join the Grey Wardens.

Then, she had been lucky enough to spend a short time with Rory again. It had felt just like old times, the two of them together as they had once been before. Before her mother's wishes and the rumors of favoritism had forced them apart. Amara had found herself clinging to the rightness of the moment - even as they fought the rats together in their attempt to get Gil from the larder. The rest of the day, her thoughts lingered on their time together. On him. On how perfect even that short time had been.

Now, she found herself staring at the stables, chewing her lip as she considered. He may not even want to see her. Perhaps he wanted to forget her, forget their time together. Wardens were supposed to shed their old life, were they not? Denounce everything of their past and commit themselves to the Order and their cause. But Amara knew that once he left the castle with Duncan, she would never see him again. She could not bear the thought of having not at least said goodbye; having not told him how she truly felt about him.

So she stepped into the stables, watching him a moment as he went about his work. After a long pause, she cleared her throat to let him know she was there before speaking.

@soulcluster asked. ❝ it is all right. i swear it. i am not going anywhere. ❞ married miphlink on adventures?

"You've said that before," Words flutter from her lips like a wind-swept whisper. Of course, it brings the Hylian's attention to her once more, and she recoils slightly. Oh, how she hated scolding him! The Zora knew well enough that her love could handle himself, even at the worst of times. (But it didn't make the fear of losing him any more daunting.)

"You underestimate me as usual, Thanos. I'm already everyone's nuisance."

Who is she to deny an experience to enjoy the abundant nature of Pelican Town? Leah complies, tilting her head skyward and closing her eyes. Her curls begin to stick to her cheeks and forehead, flattening the kinks and twists against her head as the rain pelts down.

It's refreshing, cool relief in the summer heat that permeates the air with humidity. The artist lets out an unintended sigh, feeling the tension leave her shoulders for just a moment as she surrenders to the blessings of nature.

It feels like a small eternity later when Leah straights her posture and turns back to Abigail, with a warm smile on her face. "I see why you spend all your time out here. If you don't mind the company, maybe I'll join you more often?"

A little something for the amazing @soulcluster​, after much talk about Rasmodius and Abigail’s relationship.

Magnus Rasmodius was no stranger to studying new-to-him, strange tomes in search of understanding deep subjects. Seeking to understand foreign cultures was nothing out of the ordinary.

Having so much math involved was a twist, but he was nothing if not adaptable.

The truth of the matter was that this was no ancient treatise writ on enchanted scrolls, to be handled with gloved hands lest the natural oils on his skin damage it in its aged frailty. No, he’d spent the past eight hours studiously engrossed in learning Dungeons and Dragons - multiple volumes available online (and my, wasn’t he grateful Abigail had talked him into “installing” wifi in his tower, because yes it did come in handy.)

A resting draught saw him still awake well into the afternoon of the next day, feeling no more tired for it - he could ill afford to be, if he was to pull this off.

That night he had procured snacks, put a seal of illusion on his table, and settled with his notes. When Abigail came along with her friends, they would find faithful replicas of themselves in the attire and gear of their chosen classes. They weren’t true duplicates, of course, but they had a bit of attitude to them in their posture, and the trio were delighted.

That was when Magnus smiled, a tingle of magic in the air. For show, even though he knew Abigail was trained enough to sense such things had he hidden the energy, sparks of light flew from his hands and impacted small chests with a chime.

The look of awe and wonder on his daughter’s face when her doll spun in place to peer up at her made every lost hour of rest. All the moreso when the starting inn shimmered into place around them.

Ryuji kind of felt like a dick.

It had been years since the incident. Yeah, okay, he’d held the grudge since then, and he told himself he’d never forgive Shiho. So far, so good, and he hadn’t. That changed when he found out about Kamoshida, and what he’d done to her.

Of course he was dumb enough to think that the girls would be fine. It was only the boys who were pushed to breaking. It was only the boys he harmed. God dammit, Ryuji was a fucking idiot. He was angry all over again. Every time he thought of that man, what he did to everyone, he wanted to kill him. He wanted Kamoshida to feel every bit of hurt they all felt.

Shiho was in the hospital, and she was alive, according to Ann. That was a relief. Ryuji wanted to help. Old grudges didn’t matter; Shiho needed support now more than ever. Who knows? If Ryuji had support after his incident, things might’ve been different for him. And if Shiho attempted once, she could again. Maybe he wouldn’t help. Maybe he’d make things worse. As someone who understands, even a tiny bit, he needed to be there for her.

He paced outside of her hospital room. Should he have bought flowers? A balloon? Chocolate? A plushie? That was all he saw in the gift shop. That was weird, wasn’t it? They weren’t friends. He still didn’t really like her. She’d sense that, right? She was going to throw something at him, or insult him again. Something. He didn’t know. He turned on his heel, determined to leave. Screw this, what the hell was he doing here?

Then he thought of himself, alone, after his broken leg. No, he couldn’t do that to her. Even if neither of them really liked each other. No one deserved to be alone.

   She hadn’t— eaten, that is— but that was entirely beside the point. Zelda glared at the apple with enough contempt to rot its core and turned with a flick of her hair.

    “No. Thank you.”

    Link wasn’t supposed to be there— him or his apple. She debated telling him to leave, but opted to simply ignore him instead (as he so often did to her with his unrelenting silence), eyes focused on the multiple scrolls laid out before her. She glanced from them to the mountainous ledge ahead, as though trying to sort something out, only to grow increasingly and visibly frustrated.  

   “Must you stare?” She finally snapped, whipping back around to look at Link. “I am attempting to work. You may stand guard over there.”