#grumble writes

[screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse]

I've been making good progress on my Thomas/Corvo/Daud fic, so good I think I can start posting soon 👀

[annamarabella-grumble]

Freya skating down the Bifrost: Heimdall my good bitch I have news 🛼🛼

Top of the Stack, Issue 25 | Welcome to 2023!

annamarabella grumble published a post on Ko-fi.com

[screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse]

upcoming unscheduled treats:

- dishonored ot3 chef!daud au

- dishonored (implied) ot3 "regrettably, this is my idiot" dynamic with corvo/daud sponsored by @boringid submitting this into evidence:

- valhalla eivor/leofrith disaster bisexuals

the plan is to draft (by hand), type it up, and then edit/post entirely at my leisure — the grumble can strike at any time...

(update: check the replies for details)

[screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse]

SNEAK PEEK TIME, PART 3

A week later, Đurađ was supposed to go pick up Nolan to drive them round to Pereiro’s office when early in the morning he received a call from Aeolos. He was in a bit of a pickle, would Đurađ mind terribly to come over and help wrangle the situation? Knowing that with Aeolos, anything may be described as a ‘pickle,’ Đurađ didn’t hesitate to say yes. He’d get a good look at the carnage when he got there, and then proceed accordingly. As it happened, the pickle in question was a bad case of an extended family visit and moving day crossing streams, and Aeolos was running himself ragged appeasing his cousin’s admonishments as well as directing his buddies who were helping him lug furniture. What exactly Đurađ was supposed to do remained somewhat of a mystery, but Aeolos settled down noticeably when he arrived. If nothing else, the arrival of a stern-looking man who had good things to say about him (within reason) interested Aeolos’ aunt and uncle considerably, and so Đurađ’s gruffly delivered praise of their nephew seemed to be a big hit, if the thumbs-up Aeolos gave him across the hastily assembled lunch spread was any indication.

Đurađ helped himself to some, never one to turn down good food that tasted of more than mince meat, and belatedly realised he ought to check the time. Cursing silently, he excused himself to call Nolan to let him know he’d be running a tad late.

“Where are you?” Nolan asked. “I can come and pick you up for a change. My car does drive, you know.”

“It barely looks it,” Đurađ returned, but agreed with the principle of the idea. He handed over the address and told Nolan to meet him there in about half an hour. “Then the worst should be managed.”

Nolan seemed to perk up at that. “Why, is something wrong?”

“No, no, just helping someone out,” Đurađ waved his concern away, oblivious that Nolan of course couldn’t see.

“Of course you are,” Nolan said, and it held some humour that Đurađ was unable to decipher.

“Just drive,” he told him, and Nolan snorted, then said he’d be there in a bit and hung up.

Đurađ had no sooner put his phone away than there was some amount of wailing: Aeolos’ nephew had a little tantrum, the origins of which escaped Đurađ at present, and to be able to care properly for the elder, Aeolos’ cousin unceremoniously beckoned to the nearest available adult to take over her carrying of the youngest of her children.

The nearest available adult being Đurađ. He didn’t get much time to protest that he wasn’t good with kids, nor to look around for anyone else who might step up in his stead. Quite instinctively, he reached out, and found himself with an armful of curiously staring toddler a moment later. Still, being inexperienced didn’t mark him useless, so he remembered to shift the child to his hip, wrapping one arm securely around them while supporting them with the other.

“Hi,” he said, figuring that manners wouldn’t go amiss. “My name’s Đurađ. What’s your name?”

“Patrik,” the boy said somewhat shyly. “I’m four.”

Đurađ, unfamiliar with introduction rituals among the age group, took that at face value and responded with, “I’m forty-two.”

Patrik scrunched up his nose. “That’s—“

“Really old, yes,” Đurađ spared him the effort of abstraction.