#10/Rose fic

[hellaleg]

[ahn1zos]

Midnight Confessions (pt5/?)

I could’ve done better

.

[bonnibellexox]

Who’s this... Hm...

[scham-wcan]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: RWBY Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long Characters: Ruby Rose (RWBY), Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long Additional Tags: Post V9, Bees help a Schnee out, Weiss Schnee Needs a Hug, Vacuo (RWBY) Summary:

Vacuo has been all too unkind to the Schnee of team RWBY, but it has done its worst to her in the form of frustration and internal anguish. Perhaps her teammates could help her get a handle of some sort on it?

[deonideatta]

Twilight realizes his feelings

Hello, thanks for the ask! Took a while but I finally got to it lol. Was fun to write, hope you enjoy it!!!

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He feels nothing for her.

Nothing lovers usually feel for each other, at least. Of course, he respects her. Her insight has been crucial to the smooth operation of the Forger family, pulling him back from irrational spirals more than once.

And he admires her. How could he not? The way she cares lingers in Anya’s grins and cheery shouts for her mama, in the warmth that welcomes him home in the evenings, in cups of caffeine-free coffee and gentle smiles that linger in his mind. It throws him sometimes, how much kindness she pours into this little family formed on pretenses.

But over time, he’s come to expect the unexpected from her. None of his pages of analysis can pin down her entirety, no manipulation or carefully planned flowchart can fully bend her to its will. Just when he thinks he’s understood her she blindsides him, throwing all his well laid plans into disarray. It’s intriguing in ways he can’t afford to delve into, as much as he finds he wants to.

Because he feels nothing for her - nothing that should make him want her to trust him with the intricacies of what makes her who she is, at least. He isn’t really her husband, after all. And one day, when Loid Forger has served his purpose and all this is over, she'll find someone out there who will love her truthfully and openly. Someone she can love back and happily share her life with. The thought should not feel like ice in his chest.

Because she doesn’t feel for him either, not in any of the ways a wife should feel for her husband, not in the way he sometimes wishes someone would when the thought of spending the rest of his life in an endless cycle of discarded identities weighs on him a little too much. Solitude is an inevitability. He tells himself he’s fine with that.

She doesn’t know him, anyway. Not him as he really is, beneath the facades that make up his legend, beneath the false emotions and the vulnerability that he’s not sure is quite so false anymore.

It shouldn’t matter, since he feels nothing for her. But this nothing sets a rhythm going in his chest when they’re close, and dusts his cheeks with colour when she stops to fix his tie after adjusting Anya’s uniform at the door.

He’s forced to confront that ‘nothing’ when one evening takes them too close to the edge. His smiles are too soft, and the look in her eyes is too tender, and he struggles to confine all the feelings he shouldn’t feel in the container of nothing where he needs them to stay.

And then she kisses him, and his mind goes terribly blank, devoid of all the reasoning that would - should - give him the strength to pull away. There’s no pretense to the way he reaches out to cup her face, shifting to better kiss her back.

She sighs against him, and he really should stop, and save them both the hurt this will inevitably bring. There's nothing left of himself to give her, barely a shadow of a man hiding behind layers and layers of lies.

Restraint prevails, and he manages to pull away, averting his eyes so as not to see whatever her reaction is. She goes still in front of him, face turned towards him.

He forces himself to meet her gaze. She's looking up at him like she's seeing him for the first time. It's an oddly understanding look, a gleam in her eyes that holds him captive and makes him forget to put up any of the facades that are supposed to govern their relationship.

She moves slowly, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, and the nothing shatters its casing to reveal something bubbling up like a spring in his heart. Her face is serious but gentle, and restraint cannot suppress the urge to hold her close. She lets him, tucking her head against his neck. For some reason there's a lump in his throat.

The spring trickles on, a small but constant presence.

Time makes it into a stream, stronger with every touch and every glance, with every quiet evening and every inch that the facades drop.

“And you definitely don’t feel anything for her?” Handler asks, in the middle of the Yor section of one of his weekly reports on the family.

“Nothing,” Twilight replies. If he listens hard enough, he can almost hear the sound of a river roaring.

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Hope this was a good read!!!!! Twilight feeling things is one of my favourite things to write lol. But yea there's a few more prompts left to write, I will write all of them eventually!

[gins-potter]

you should see me in a crown is very ‘Rose if she had been raised by Abe’ coded

[queenmabcreates]

Day 6/Chapter 9 is up!

And yes it includes more inept artwork by me 😅

[velidewrites]

Lucien Vanserra has lost everything: his lover, his home, his friend. Now, on a Solstice night far too cold for the fire in his blood, he watches his mate slip away from him, too—right into the arms of another male.

He makes a promise then, to the stars who have never listened—he will no longer dream. From now on, Lucien is going to burn—and he’ll make sure the rest of the world burns with him.

Note: For @elucienweekofficial Day 6: Travel! This was going to be a long-shot but the plot ended up plotting too much and now it's a multi-chapter. I hope you enjoy this prologue!

Warnings: Sadness factory, Beron Vanserra (content warnings in later chapters!)

Read on AO3

Prologue

The Autumn woods hum a gentle song.

Elain wakes up to its melody, carried by the morning breeze. She’d never been here before—in Velaris, the season is dim and grey, even the Sidra losing some of its usual sparkle. She isn’t used to the splurge of colour, a spectrum of yellows and oranges and reds so vibrant that she can’t help but be grateful for her Fae eyesight, able to grasp it all.

The path she’d woken up on is veiled in what seems like a thousand autumn leaves, some of them bronze and trampled by hunting boots, some of them accompanied by large, heavy paws. The others, though, lay out a clear trail as they reflect the sunlight’s golden gleam.

Elain follows it without question. Without a shadow of a doubt.

She listens in to the soft crunch of the leaves beneath her own boots, strangely large and black, an unlikely fashion choice for someone such as herself. She dismisses the thought quickly, though, as a chirping bird flits past her—a new harmony in the Autumn song.

The quiet flow of a stream joins it eventually as she approaches it, each step quicker than the last. Her throat feels dry all of a sudden—as if the mere sight of the fresh, sparkling water had spurred the fire in her throat. She swallows the sensation patiently—after all, the sweet, relieving taste is within her reach.

Elain kneels by the stream and dips her hands into the water, frowning at the lack of the cool sensation she’d expected.

She tries again—and again.

The water never appears in her cupped palms, evading her completely.

Elain frowns and steps in closer, her reflection meeting her atop the flowing surface.

A gasp rips free from her throat—yet another sound joining the humming melody, sharp and unexpected compared to all the others. It does not belong here—she does not belong here, there is no question left in her mind about that.

She doesn’t belong here because the face staring back at here is not that of Elain Archeron’s.

She blinks, a golden, mechanical eye whirring with the movement. Elain gasps again, strong, powerful hands reaching to touch her face—Lucien’s face, handsome but brutally scarred as it ripples through his golden-brown skin. His full lips part in shock, his russet eye glints, and his auburn brows shoot up—the face staring back at her is, undeniably, her estranged mate’s.

Elain’s—Lucien’s hands begin to shake.

What is going on? those lips move, yet the question remains unspoken firmly in her mind.

Elain rises to her feet, though her limbs act without her accordance—they possess a mind of their own, moving wherever that song carries them. Elain realises then she is merely a bystander—she is not here to change, to enact, but to watch,

She is a Seer, and this is a vision.

Lucien’s reflection in the river ripples again, and his face begins to shift—the scars seem to sink beneath his skin, not even a faint, thin line creasing his cheek anymore. His face is smooth, as it used to be—long before she’d ever met him.

When she blinks again, the eyes change, too—they are a matching pair of russet, now, and though Elain knows these are the eyes Lucien was born with, she can’t help but feel uneasy at the sight. In their brief meetings, few of them as there had been, she had grown somewhat used to that golden eye, watching her closely even from across the room. She liked the way it caught the sunlight.

She has to make peace with Lucien’s immaculate face now, though. He looks back at his reflection one last time as he finally straightens—and Elain catches his arched ears perk up slightly, as though they’d just registered some sound before it truly even began.

He doesn’t turn, though—but Elain feels a smirk tug at the corner of his lips as the feeling of yet another presence registers for her, too. It lands somewhere behind them with a quiet thud—as though it had just fallen from high up in the trees.

Lucien finally turns, and the intruder comes into view.

The beautiful female has ivy growing from her tan skin, its stem curling around her limbs in certain places—her wrists, her ankles, parts of her exposed collarbone. The leaves of rich, blooming green offset her eyes nicely—two pools of tarnished gold, and for some reason, Elain imagines it shifts into bronze under certain angles. Her chestnut hair is a sea of untamed curls, falling down her back in loose rings, some of them tangling between the ivy stems. The veins beneath her wrists appear to be crafted from ivy, too—as if it grew directly beneath her skin. 

Her curves are wrapped in a brown dress that hugs her in just the right places—she truly looks like a goddess of the woods, having descended from the high trees to bless the world with her beauty.

And yet, when she finally speaks, her words stir confusion in Elain’s mind.

“Hey, beautiful,” she says with a wink.

If she only could, Elain would blink—but instead, she hears herself groan, a deep, male sound that seems to rumble straight from her broad chest. “Please, Jesminda—I have a reputation.”

The female steps in closer.

“Ah, yes.” She smirks. “Lucien Vanserra, the cruel Autumn Prince, feared by all.”

For the first time since Elain met him, Lucien seems bashful. “Well—”

The female—Jesminda—huffs. “No well. You know you’re the only one in your family with some semblance of a heart.” She angles her head. “You and your mother, maybe.”

A wave of sadness surges through her, one that is not her own though she feels it in her chest anyway. “I really wish you could meet her,” Lucien says.

Jesminda shrugs, though it is not carelessness that lifts her shoulders—she makes it seem like Lucien’s hopes and dreams are inevitable, like his mother is standing right behind him, waving at her with a wide smile on her face. “Maybe I will, one day.” She grimaces as she adds, “When your awful father dies and you duel your brother for the throne.”

The Autumn song seems to stop at that—even the river coming to a halt.

Lucien stirs. “You shouldn’t say such things, Jesminda. Here, even the forest listens.”

But goddesses do not fear the forest, and so Jesminda winks. “Then it’s a good thing I have my cruel Autumn prince to protect me.”

—

Elain wakes up with a jolt.

She looks over her limbs first—long and lithe, that hardened muscle nowhere in sight. Her shoulders fall slightly as her gaze moves on to land on her nightgown—definitely her own, a lavender lace she’d picked out recently while Solstice shopping on the streets of Velaris.

She looks out of her bedroom window—for a Seer, she’s not particularly good at navigating the darkness, but she can make out the plush winter snow as it gently floats down from the midnight sky, draping itself eventually over the cobblestone.

It is definitely her own bed she’s sitting on, too, the sheets a pale shade of yellow she had also picked out a few days earlier. Her racing heart begins to slow its pace when she finally makes sure she had found her way back into reality. She is a Seer, but she is also Elain Archeron.

She is a mistake.

Anger surges through her at the memory—anger, confusion and hurt—but she squashes it down immediately, too fresh to revisit just yet. Instead, she focuses on what the Sight has just shown her—on the vivid colours of Autumn, the familiar face and body she’d stepped into, and the unfamiliar presence crafted from the woods and ivy. Her visions have never felt like this—they have always been draped by a fog, the sounds and colours muffled through a wall of mist. And yet this time, she could feel the autumn breeze caressing her skin—could hear the song of the forest as though it was played by her own heart. This was not a vision—and decidedly not a glimpse into the future, considering Lucien’s scarless face and him being present in Autumn at all.

No, Elain decides. This was no future.

She had been pulled into the past.

She can’t quite wrap her head around it as what had to have been Lucien’s memory replays itself over and over in her mind, a strange feeling of dread building in her chest. Elain allows it to consume her, too curious for her own good to back out now—there is nothing else waiting for her there, anyway—only that anger, confusion and pain.

A quiet knock on the door eventually stirs her from her thoughts—she isn’t entirely sure how long she has allowed her mind to race—but she guesses minutes as her sister appears in the doorway, her own robe falling loosely over her shoulders as she wipes the sleep from her blue-grey eyes with a hand.

“Everything okay?” Feyre asks her.

Elain frowns. “I’m…not sure. Why do you ask?”

Feyre hesitates, and the pause only makes that dread in her chest intensify like a whirring mill. “Lucien just left,” her sister finally says.

A quiet oh is Elain’s only acknowledgement. When the golden thread tied to her rib tugs in protest, she adds, “Was it not expected?”

Feyre’s expression looks strange. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Oh.”

Those piercing eyes are unreadable as Feyre asks, “You…wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

“No,” Elain’s response comes immediately and invites no further questions.

Feyre’s throat bobs slightly—as though fighting to keep back the words she so obviously wants to utter. Mercifully, she only says, “Okay. Sorry to wake you,” and begins to back away.

Before she can well and truly understand what she is doing, Elain stops her with a, “Wait.”

Feyre halts, her tattooed hand tight around the doorknob. “Yes?”

Elain looses a shaky breath. For some reason, she is certain the question will only be the beginning of her problems. “Who is Jesminda?”

Elucien Week Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @melting-houses-of-gold @areyoudreaminof @fieldofdaisiies @kingofsummer93 @witchlingsandwyverns @gracie-rosee @stickyelectrons @selesera @sv0430 @vulpes-fennec @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @screaming-opossum @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @spell-cleavers @starfall-spirit @lectoradefics @this-is-rochelle @goldenmagnolias @labellefleur-sauvage @bookeater34 @capbuckyfalcon @betterthaneveryword @tasha2627 @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune

[fanonsupremecy]

Mood Board for my 9-1-1 OC Melanie "Mel" Narvaez. She's quite literally all i can think about. Might make one for her girlfriend Daphne "Dee" Monroe. Obviously another OC. They're super Bubbeline coded btw. This is for a seperate fic idea that's not on my pinned post. I think I'm gonna call it LAFD: Fire Queers (🔥🏳️‍🌈 if ya wanna make me write the drabbles). Its about Buck being a bisexual disaster (affectionate) and his relationship with being bi and with Hen and Eddie (cuz yes even tho i ship Bucktommy i still headcanon Eddie as queer and this story is about Buck's queerplatonic relationships mostly) but also diving into his relationship with Tommy and Buck just not being chill about it at all. Also Maddie supremacy (cuz i have a big fat gay crush on her) so she makes an appearance (actually many) starting with when Chim promised to take her to get her nails done but ended up having to work so he asks Buck to go with her and on a whim decides to get his nails done too when Maddie makes a joke saying it would be fun if they got matching nails and he says it sounds like fun and she meant it as a joke but if her baby brother really wants to she'll support him so they decide on blue and this is just the start of a long habit of her enabling his fashion experimenting now that he's not bogged down by a girlfriend's expectation of his manliness. Now dont get him wrong he's still masculine and he's still buck he just doesnt give a shit what anyone thinks if he decides to enjoy pretty things, nice things (cuz like he told Tommy: "I deserve nice things" "yes you do baby"). Maybe it never would've crossed his mind if Maddie had never said that but she planted the seed and he's having fun with himself and Tommy doesnt mind (finds it endearing actually) and Maddie enables him so he'll keep it up just as long as he sees fit (but maybe its also really fun to see Tommy get riled up when he puts on his skimpy shorts and a tight crop top). Mel comes on the scene as a transfer from Kansas (When she and Dee moved to LA) and her and Buck become fast friends when she comments that she has a girlfriend and he replies with "And I have a boyfriend" because he offered to spot her on the weights and she thought he was coming onto her.

[tecnestheim]

Chapters: 17/17 Fandom: RWBY Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death Relationships: Oscar Pine/Ruby Rose, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie, Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna/Sun Wukong, Raven Branwen/Taiyang Xiao Long Characters: Oscar Pine, Ruby Rose, Nora Valkyrie, Taiyang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, Yang Xiao Long, Lie Ren, Blake Belladonna, Sun Wukong (RWBY), Jaune Arc, Original RWBY Character(s), Raven Branwen Summary:

It's the same old story. Salem's defeated and teammates go their separate ways. Oscar gets caught in a cycle of repetitive days. As he gets comfortable with his new life, a certain silver-eyed warrior crashes back into his life. Finally, he gains an another chance at a new life. And perhaps even a chance with romance.

PLEASE READ THIS IF YOU HOLD EVEN AN INKLING OF RG LOVE ITS SO GOOD I KNOW WHAG THE WARNINGS SAY BUT TRUST ME ITS AMAZING AND LIFE CHANGING

[ahn1zos]

Midnight Confessions (pt6/?) (follow the arrow)

Sorry for the arrow thing lol, i didn’t notice it

[branwenmarya]

Need help finding a Doctor/Rose fic, please!

Rose and Tentoo are together and happy. Either he gets sick/is in an accident and dies and Rose finds her way back to her original universe OR they find out Rose was changed by the time vortex (immortal) and Tentoo helps find a way to send her back to the full Time Lord so she can be with him once he (Tentoo) dies.

I remember reading it 7+ years ago, so I have a feeling it may be on LiveJournal or Teaspoon.

Genuinely unsure if I made these fics up in my head or had planned to write similar plots as a young adult…. 😅

[bonnibellexox]

Snippet of Time Together- Chapter 10: Denial Part 2

“So, how long have you been here, Jaune?” Alyx cuts in, struggling to keep up with him.

“Oh- uh… Almost 5 years.” He answers, slowing down a little.

Finally about to catch up, I try to bring Lewis around so I can walk next to Jaune, but Alyx accidentally gets in the way.

“Wow… How long have you been alllll alone?” She enquires, waving her arms around and almost bumping us.

“I’m not alone. Ruby-”

“Are you dating?”

“Yes-”

“Are you married?”

“Well, no-”

“Why not?”

“Yeah Jaune, why not?” I call teasingly, stepping on the back of his shoe to trip him a little.

With a scoff and a playful glare back at me, he reaches out and grabs my waist, dragging us both to walk by his side.

“Because they don’t have any aisles for me to watch you walk down, and I want the whole package.” He remarks with a smile, kissing the side of my head.

“I’d keep my last name anyway. Rose is way cooler than Arc.” I taunt, earning a grumbly boy nuzzling into my cheek as I try to shove him off.

“Have you had sex?”

“Okay! Enough questions for tonight. Let's just go home so we can get you two fed and rested.” I sigh with a blush, bumping into Jaune as he snickers in my ear.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

Ello, it’s me again with an important question~ Since Boss wears glasses, how bad is his eyesight?? Or does he only wear it for aesthetic reasons??

…….And would he allow Friend! Darling to take his glasses and try them on, or would he grip their wrist before they can remove it?? :3

(First scenario may or may not include Friend! Darling staring at his face and saying he looks more handsome with glasses)

how bad is his eyesight?? Or does he only wear it for aesthetic reason??

For the sake of possibly getting 🍀 going through a crisis, he wears it for the sake of being able to see. He struggles a lot because (correct me if I'm wrong cause its been a WHILE) he's actually far-sighted! However, when he doesn't have his glasses, he just wears contacts instead.

…….And would he allow Friend! Darling to take his glasses and try them on, or would he grip their wrist before they can remove it?? :3

Jessamine. Jessamine. Friend! Darling would have somewhat of those rights but heaven forbid you pull that away for an hour, he will hold you on a death grip. This man wouldn't mind if they do it though, because he doesnt really need it and has his contacts, but... Well.

Let's just say he likes them better.

(First scenario may or may not include Friend! Darling staring at his face and saying he looks more handsome with glasses)

THE FIRST SCENARIO LMAOOO PLEASE TELL HIM, PLEASE FEED INTO HIS EGO. I will laugh because he'd be probably "oh, so you're into glasses, are you? :)" while internally going "hm... interesting..."

[camellcat]

I keep thinking about this one fic, where amy gets sent back in time to the beginning of s1 by a weeping angel, and like. idk. I want to see clara in s1. idk how'd she get there. probably some wackiness of converging timelines or whatever since we already know she's, like, woven throughout his entire life. but I just wanna see her reaction to nine and rose. specifically nine. and then seeing how different s2 ten is to ANY doctor she's ever known. I want her there!!! plus her and rose would be best friends SORRY I keep saying it but it's TRUE

[nvzwho]

One person's 'Iconic Ships' will be someone else's eternally blocked tag. I am cursed with doing this in multiple fandoms to have me beloathed ship be the biggest ship in the damn thing. It's not just a Doctor Who thing but they are generally the worst at tagging stuff, so the Curse is Worse there in a way.