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bunny-rambles · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing okay!

I have a request if you don't mind.

I go so silent when im owerwhelmed. To the rate its so hard for me talk. I wont be able to join to the conversation even if i really want to. At those days, i just need some cuddles and affection.

What if reader just comes back to home and the character is just laying on the couch and reader lays on top of then without saying anything, just listening to their heartbeat? Can i request it with scara, albedo, kazuha, venti and whoever you want to add?

Have a good day💕

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“I’m Here.”

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characters; Scaramouche, Albedo, Venti, Kazuha, gn reader

cw/tw; talks of low mood and anxiety, hurt/comfort

word count; 500+ for each

notes; Hi, thank you so much for this request, sorry it took so long, it just takes forever to get my inspiration going nowadays. I hope you’re still here to enjoy this <3 it’s been stuck in wip hell but it’s finally here now, enjoy. (If some people want to, I’ll see if I can do a part 2 with some other characters. I’m thinking Wriothesley and Neuvillette. Let me know what you think.)

Please reblog if you like this!!

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Scaramouche

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Tired eyes move up towards the small crowd of people around you, focusing on the unimpressed pair of eyes burning their gaze into you. Your hand is idly tapping your pen against the empty piece of paper in front of you, but it quickly stops the second you feel the suffocating feeling in your chest from your entire table watching your every move.

“Sorry.” You apologise quietly, only to turn your head away from your classmate, who just scoffs at your haphazard reply and continues on with whatever they were talking about, their jargon falling on deaf ears.

If you were being honest, you could care less about the topic of the conversation.

Today was just one of those days where you felt that heavy feeling in your head, that light fluttering in your stomach. It felt like something was wrong, but nothing had happened to make you like this. Nothing in the typical sense, anyway. No event to trigger such a reaction, not even a snide whisper about you that caught your attention - nothing. You just felt, to sum it up in one word, overwhelmed.

Silently, you slipped out of your seat and snuck away when the conversation had moved on from your strange behaviour, the feeling all consuming at this point. When you were alone, there was only one thought in your mind: find him.

There were a lot of people who didn’t even bother to try to find out his name, only giving him a simple nickname due to his peculiar style. But not you. No, you were the odd one out, the only one in the entire Akademiya who sought out the company of the sharp-tongued vagrant. Perhaps you were the only one who could understand the true meaning of his biting remarks, the only one who knew just how understanding he could be.

He wasn’t in the lecture today, or anywhere in the Akademiya. That wasn’t too much of an issue. He had told you where you could find him if you really needed him (‘or whatever’, you recall him mumbling as his violet eyes shied away from yours, rose blooming so delicately on his porcelain cheeks).

So your feet moved on their own, stumbling along until you came to a quiet opening in the surrounding mountains of Sumeru. And there he was, perched on the edge of the hill that was overlooking the scenery of the entire city - a silent protector. He looked serene, calm in the gentle glow of the sunbeams shining down on the peak of the rocky formation. Maybe it would be best not to disturb him - you couldn’t even remember the last time he looked so at peace with the world.

You took a step back. A branch snapped noisily under your foot, causing the wanderers head to whip around to face you. His brief look of surprise is quickly replaced with his usual look of indifference.

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounded bored, but not aggravated by your presence. This was a good sign for him. But when you didn’t respond, the blank look on his face shifted as he raised an eyebrow at your lack of response. “Well? Spit it out. What do you want?” He prompted again, albeit a little harshly.

But no matter how much you wanted to tell him why you were there, no words would leave your mouth. It was like your lips were just sealed shut.

Instead, you just sat down beside him, your fingers dancing with one another in your lap. Your lips moved, shaping the words that wanted to come out, but no sound accompanied them. A heavy sigh left your lips, already feeling defeated with not being able to do one simple thing right today.

Luckily, you didn’t need to. With an exhale of breath that matched your own, you heard the rustling of fabric by your side as the puppet opened his arms for you.

“Come here.” He ordered in a soft voice, his eyes avoiding your own. When you didn’t respond immediately, obviously in complete surprise with what you were witnessing, he grumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to understand. Red began to bleed through his white skin, his teeth gritting together before he spoke again. “I don’t have all day. Now come here before I change my mind.”

Soon, his arms were around you, wrapping you up in his comforting embrace when you finally shuffled towards him. And here, nothing could hurt you, not while all you had to focus on was his fingers rubbing deep, comforting circles in your back. His chin rested atop of your head, mainly to hide the gentleness present in his features as he held you close to his chest. If only he had a heart, just so you could listen to the gentle pounding of it against his chest whenever he touched you. Instead, you heard a soft breeze right next to your ear, flowing in time with the pulsing light of his vision with each time his chest raised to take a breath.

There were no words exchanged between the two of you, only the sweet sounds of birds chirping, and that same gentle breeze that surrounded the both of you while you stayed in one another's arms.

Venti

The door swung open with a loud crash against the wall, a cheerful laugh accompanying the startling sound. “Oh, Windblume! Are you home?” The melodic voice of the bard sang out through his shared home of his partner.

Silence.

This did not deter him, however, as he hummed a quiet tune to himself as he set the freshly picked apples along large bottle of dandelion wine on the table, his hands going to his hips as he listened for the tell-tale sound of your soft footsteps or the sweet cadence of your voice. But once again, the young man was met with an eerie quietness.

“Huh. Guess they’re not home.” Viridescent eyes scan their surroundings before landing on a small note hidden away in the corner of the room, neatly placed on the very desk you had been working at so tirelessly these past few days.

‘At Windrise.’

Oh. So it was one of those days. No matter, he knew exactly what to do when you weren’t feeling your best. After quickly grabbing a couple of apples from the large bag he had carried home, he was already on his way to come find you.

And find you he did, sat alone underneath the towering tree with your head in your hands, looking devoid of any positive emotions. Even in the embrace of the winds of freedom, you still felt tied down from the thoughts swarming in your head. The gentle wind around you playfully tussled your hair, but it did very little to quell the storm raging inside of you, its thunder petrifying. There was a rustle above you in the leaves of the great tree, a few fluttering down to gently graze against your cheeks, like nature's soft kisses. And then a head emerged from them, a wide smile on the owner's face.

“Hello there!” Venti greeted with his signature wink, his twin tails swaying in the wind, his forehead exposed from hanging upside down from the branch. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your hand reaching out to carefully pull a few stray leaves out of his hair. He swung himself with his legs to press a kiss against your cheek, an airy laugh coming from him before he finally hopped down to take his place next to you. “I brought you something, but it might be a little bruised now.”

The bard giggled sheepishly before pulling out one of the apples he had grabbed earlier, throwing it up in the air for you to catch. Your hands cradled the ripe fruit, treating it as a precious treasure before you brought it up to your lips for a bite. A sigh left your lips from the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, the flavour almost sinful. But how could it be with the god who gave it to you right by your side? No, this was heavenly. Paradise was in your hand, and you couldn’t help but take another bite, showing off a thankful smile towards your partner who was already tucking into his own.

You expected him to speak, to fill the air with jokes or light hearted chatter. However, the only thing that made any noise right now was the petals of the nearby asters and the tweeting of songbirds. The archon beside you was quiet, waiting for you to speak first. And if you didn’t feel up to talking, that was okay too. He was going to be by your side, no matter how you felt. Much like the wind he commanded, he would always be with you, even on your bad days. No words were exchanged between the two of you. Instead, your head leaned closer to his until your cheek was pressed up against his shoulder, a deep sigh leaving your lips. But this time, it was filled with content instead of your previous anxiety. Venti’s hand that wasn’t holding his own apple gently cradled your head, his fingers lightly threading through your soft hair.

“My dear Windblume, you’ve worked so hard.” He finally spoke, his soft cheek resting lightly against the top of your head, like the softest of feathers.

“Don’t be afraid… I’m here.”

Kazuha

It had been a long day.

A fight with the endless stacks of paper at your desk had left you feeling drained, the walls of your bedroom feeling almost like a prison instead of a sanctuary for dreams and comfort. Your hands trembled as you re-read the few scarce sentences that you had managed to write down, only for them to curl into tight fists around the delicate piece of paper. What does it matter? It barely made sense anyway.

You needed out of this room. Shaky legs pulled your body out of your solitude, into the fresh air and tall grass that brushed against the back of your legs. You weren’t quite sure what led you to this meadow. Perhaps it was just an inexplicable pull you felt that was dragging you towards something more enchanting than the dull surroundings of a desk and barely functioning pen - something more warm, more comforting.

There, sitting in the middle of this peaceful field of flowers, he sat.

Eyes closed, with a serene smile painted on his gentle face, his silvery wisps of hair blowing softly in the winds - much like the swaying stalks of emerald around him. And once those eyes fluttered open to reveal the rubies underneath, you could feel the very air in your throat catch. That smile you admired only widened when his gaze set on you.

“Fancy seeing you here. Care to join me?” Kazuha spoke, his bandaged hand extended towards your own. You felt guilty intruding on such a peaceful moment like this, but when he was looking at you like that, inviting you to spend time with him… Well, how could you possibly refuse? Your hand connected with his own, a gentle tug leading to you seating yourself next to him. Instead of letting go of your hand, or letting his touch linger on your skin for a moment, he interlocked his fingers with your own. His side brushed against your own, your smile slowly but surely mirroring his own curled lips. Silence curled its invisible arms around the two of you, wrapping you up in comforting tranquillity, only found with the closest of companions.

A soft exhale left the man beside you, his body leaning backwards to lay against the ground, his gaze fixated on the clouds above.

“Here.” He whispers, patting the space underneath you to encourage you to join him. “Lay with me. Let your troubles float away with the drifting clouds.”

Carefully, you also laid back, with your hand still intertwined with his own and your other one resting on top of your stomach.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself under his arm, nestled up against his side with your cheek pressing up gently against his chest. His fingers gently began to run through your hair, his movements idle, his soul at peace - as well as yours.

“You don’t have to talk about what is troubling you, dove. But if you ever need to talk to me, or perhaps, if you just want me to be with you - then you need only ask.” The wandering prince spoke, his soothing movements unchanging. “Or just come find me if you feel like you can’t. Your presence is never a bother.” He chuckles softly, holding you closer to his side, his head leaning against your own.

“I promise… You’ll never have to go through anything alone, as long as I’m by your side.”

Albedo

The gentle clinking of glass echoes around the room as a solitary alchemist works in silence. Concentration is etched onto his porcelain face, his lips drawn in a straight line as his gaze fixates on the bubbling liquid inside the flask he was holding in a gentle grasp. He raises an eyebrow, however, when a figure starts to form in the reflection. In the distorted mirroring of the glass, he could make out a pair of saddened eyes staring longingly at him, yet silence persisted in the room. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t just hallucinating - hours alone with various fumes and chemicals did have those side effects, after all. When he concluded he was in fact not deluding himself, he lowered the container carefully and turned around to face the one who had been waiting patiently behind him to finish analysing the results of his experiments.

This was a sight he wasn’t unfamiliar with. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you look so downcast. But rarely did you ever seek him out during these moods of yours, especially while he was working. This was… Unusual. It must’ve been quite serious.

He waited for you to speak, to tell him whatever was on your mind, but no words came. Instead, your eyes refused to meet his own, almost as if you were guilty for disturbing him or bothering him with your presence. But to Albedo, you could never be a bother - your very existence filled him with elation, even if he seldom expressed that notion towards you with words. At least his actions told you otherwise.

“Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired carefully, making sure not to push you too much. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, a few stutters of some quiet words he couldn’t quite make out. He glanced back to his makeshift workshop for a moment before his cerulean eyes locked with your own glassy ones. Deft fingers moved towards the bunsen burner, switching the contraption off before they moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes locked once more. He hummed inquisitively, wondering why you looked so upset. But, no matter. If you were here, surely he could be of some use, even if you were unwilling to share what was troubling you.

“Perhaps it’s time for a break.” The blonde declared thoughtfully before intertwining his fingers with your own, guiding you out of the laboratory and into a more peaceful area of the Favonius headquarters. Once inside, he led you over to a large couch, gesturing for you to sit down before he joined you. He cleared his throat awkwardly while opening his arms to you. “I’ve heard that physical contact and affection relieves stress.” He stated, his eyes flitting away from you for a few fleeting seconds. “Would you perhaps like a hug?”

Hesitantly, he shifted closer when he noticed you were doing the same before taking you into his arms and cradling you to his chest. A shuddering breath left your lips as the warmth you had craved all day seeped through your skin, deep into your bones.

“Is… This okay?” The alchemist asks quietly, unsure. You nod against his chest, your own arms circling around his middle. His hold around you tightens. A gentle hand rests on top of your head, his other on your lower back, fingers idly tracing patterns against your back. The motion is calculated, an automatic action, as if he knew exactly what to do to soothe your worries just with his touch alone.

“I’m glad you found me and I’m glad I could help. Please, my darling, stay in my arms until you feel better.” Before you could even open your mouth to ask about his work, he continues, in a soft tone only reserved for you and his little sister. “No experiment or variable compares to the feeling of holding you like this. So please, allow me to indulge myself.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #venti x reader #barbatos x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #Genshin impact x gn reader

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podcastenthusiast · 1 year ago

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First part of a Astarion/Karlach thing I'm writing. Basically a little rewrite of some Act 3 scenes. Could become something bigger, who knows.

"Well, at least you've met my family now," Astarion says. "Pity. You and Violet would get on quite well. Haha."

His tone is light and dismissive, especially for a midnight familial attempted kidnapping. But there's a desperate edge to it, too, like he's worried she might finally see sense and run for the hills.

Karlach's never been accused of being sensible. If Astarion burning his brother in a sunbeam while his sister screamed didn't scare her off, this little evening interruption sure won't.

Karlach does hope she will have a chance to meet his siblings properly, once they're all free.

"I wouldn't've let them take you anywhere," she vows, chest heaving, still very much caught up in protective Mama K mode.

"I know. Deep breaths, darling."

Astarion still looks wary, as if he's expecting the other shoe to drop. She can't cool down, she realizes, not yet, because she's still angry.

Angry at him.

"You lied to them. About the ritual. Like it was easy."

He scoffs. "It was easy. They aren't exactly the brightest candles in the chandelier, you know."

"You're really gonna sacrifice your own brothers and sisters? Betray their trust in you like--like they're nothing." Like Gortash did, she thinks but doesn't say. There are some words you can't take back. She loves this pasty bastard too much to actually believe he'd go through with it, anyway.

"What does it matter? They're just my...colleagues in suffering. Expendable. Pathetic." Oh, Astarion's giving her the old monster routine, one of his thinner disguises. She can see the aelf-loathing clesrly beneath without even really trying. "And let's not forget they are vampire spawn. Hardly innocent."

"Fuck, Astarion, none of us are! You only give a shit about yourself, huh?"

"Why not? No one ever looked out for me. No one ever said a kind thing to me. You're the only one," he insists, getting a bit heated himself now. "Other people don't have a heart like you."

"Damn right, soldier," she replies quietly, tapping a fist against her engine as it ticks and whirs her numbered days away. The rage fades. "Sort of the problem, isn't it."

"I-- shit, Karlach, I didn't mean--"

There he is.

"Hey. It's all right."

It isn't, not really. Nothing is all right anymore. But they will be.

Karlach just can't be the only good thing he sees in this world. It's not fair to either of them. Gods only know how much more time she even has left, besides; Astarion shouldnt be alone, not after everything he's been through. She needs him to be okay without her, selfish as it is.

"Scares me when you talk like that," she admits. "Like other people are just things to you."

"I'm sorry, Karlach," he says, miserably. "I don't know if I can be anything else, here."

Karlach's mother always told her to never go to bed angry. After ten years in the Hells, it felt pointless and silly, but tonight with his siblings' blood staining the floor, she thinks she might understand the wisdom in that advice.

"C'mere, Fangs."

She opens her arms. Always gives him a choice; touch is complicated for both of them in a lot of ways. And, yeah, there's her cuddly Astarion after all. Must be exhausting pretending to something he's not all the time. Thought so since she met him that day by the river. All those masks and yet none seems to fit quite right. She knows the feeling, more or less.

"You're loved, you hear me?" she tells him. "So fucking loved."

His skin is a pleasant balm; hers is still smoldering a little. They don't let go.

"You make things so difficult," he complains softly against her collarbone, affectionate despite the actual words.

"Knew this wasn't gonna be easy. But I swear, tomorrow we'll kick Cazador's ass," she murmurs, holding him tighter. "I've got you."

"Ugh. Get a room, you two," Shadowheart grumbles from her bed.

They have a room, though. This room. The others will simply have to deal with that.

It's gonna be okay.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x karlach #astarion #karlach #a bg3 fic from me that's not second person?? i know wild. karlach didn't want to do that i guess #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate iii

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ofduskanddreams · 1 year ago

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Truth or Dare, Azriel?

For @panicatthenightcourt :) The request: Gwynriel and Elucien. Tipsy truth or dare and maybe things get a little bit messy? I chose to make this a modern AU since it wasn't specified hehe.

A/N: It's implied that they've been drinking but let me assure everyone that they're still fully in control of themselves. There is no infidelity in this fic, everything is consented to by all parties involved.

Gwynriel & Elucien ✦ Rated M ✦ 1.3k words ✦ on AO3

Azriel dropped his head onto Gwyn’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scents of sunscreen and lavender shampoo.

The bonfire was crackling merrily and carving a pool of orange out of the deep violet night. Crickets chirped, frogs trilled, and the lake water lapped gently at the sand.

He was tipsy.

Gwyn smelled fucking amazing.

There were still four days left of their vacation.

He was at his favorite place with his favorite people.

It was too….

No.

Azriel sat up, blinking against the firelight and reminding himself that he was allowed to have this without the constant fear of it being stripped away.

Some things were truly good. Other shoes didn’t always drop.

“Everything alright, Az?” Elain asked. She was curled into Lucien’s side across the fire from them.

“Yeah, fine. I just spaced out.” He hoped his face betrayed nothing. The last thing he needed was for Lucien to spend the rest of their vacation calling him Sadzriel again.

“Okay,” Gwyn exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “We are going to play a game because it’s too early for us to be getting tired. Besides, we need to give them—” she jerked her head toward the house on the hill “—more time before the cabin will be safe.”

Half an hour earlier, Nesta had dragged Cassian away from the fire claiming she was “tired.” Rhys and Feyre made their excuses not long after.

Gwyn had a point. Even if they wanted to go to bed right now, Azriel knew none of them would be able to fall asleep due to the volume of the others' activities. It was the one downside of this pine-sheltered haven on the lake.

“What kind of game?” Lucien asked.

Azriel turned to his right. The flames danced tangerine in the teal reflection of Gwyn’s eyes making them gleam with a devilish light.

His girlfriend shot him a sly smile. “Truth or Dare.”

Elain grinned, “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Lucien said with a huff of laughter.

“Az?”

His past experiences of Truth or Dare weren’t what Azriel would call fond memories. Then again, maybe that was an unavoidable consequence of playing with Rhys and Cassian instead of being the fault of the game itself. And the way Gwyn was looking up at him all wide-eyed and lower lip caught between her teeth the way she knew drove him crazy….

“Fine, I’m in too.”

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” Lucien chuckled and Azriel threw an empty beer can at his head.

“If you had my memories of Truth or Dare, you wouldn’t be so psyched about it either,” Azriel grumbled.

It didn’t take long for the game to spiral in the direction that Azriel had been dreading. They made it once around the circle and then it was Elain’s turn again. He knew it was going to be bad no matter which option he chose. The world may think Elain Archeron the epitome of sweet kindness, but those close to her knew better than to fall to that facade. Elain Archeron could be the devil in disguise.

“Truth or dare, Azriel?” she asked, her tone intentionally disarming.

Knowing Elain for as long as he had, he knew she knew things about him that few did—that Gwyn didn’t. Not yet, at least. They’d been together for a year but some things he wanted to share were so weighty that a year might not be strong enough to hold them. To choose “truth” would be too risky.

“Dare.” Azriel leaned back, leveling Elain with a look of challenge to belie his fear of her next words.

“I dare you to kiss Lucien. For at least five seconds. With feeling.”

And Elain looked so smug at that, Azriel couldn’t help but laugh. Lucien was very attractive. Had they met in a bar and weren’t attached, he’d waste no time. “What do you say, Lucien?”

Lucien wore a smirk as he pushed off the log to stand. “If the ladies want a show, and you are willing, who am I to deny them?”

Azriel rose, moving until they were standing nearly chest to chest. “Oh, if it’s what the ladies want, I’m all in.”

He shot a questioning glance toward Gwyn over his shoulder. It was only a fun game if everyone thought so, if she didn’t want him to do this he wouldn’t. But Gwyn was smiling, and she waved her hands as if to say by all means, please continue.

So, Azriel reached and tangled his fingers in the thick red hair at Lucien’s nape. He winked at Gwyn. “I always have had a thing for redheads,” and then he stepped into Lucien’s space.

Lucien was slightly taller than him. Azriel had forgotten until he had to tilt his chin at the last second. The kiss started out questioning: hi there, hello—drawing back, a second chaste brush and press—we’re doing this, yes we are.

Then it turned exploratory: how good of a kisser are you?—adding pressure—very good I’ll have you know—Lucien’s hands on either side of his jaw, tipping Azriel’s head as he took control. Azriel nipped Lucien’s lower lip in response to the challenge.

Someone wolf-whistled. Probably Gwyn. Azriel took that as his cue to slow, and Lucien did the same.

The kiss ended sincerely: that was rather nice—a strong press—it was, wasn’t it—parting, then coming back for one last peck, featherlight and lingering.

They stepped away from each other, smiling. Lucien offered Azriel his hand, “Nice work.”

Azriel shook it, “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Lucien rolled his eyes and went back to sit beside Elain. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

Elain, whose red cheeks (though not as red as Gwyn’s when Azriel looked) were answer enough, but she huffed a laugh, “And then some. I don’t know what I expected but that was… something.”

Lucien arched an eyebrow, glancing between Azriel and Gwyn with a silent question. Azriel couldn’t deny that the idea intrigued him, but that was something to think about for another night. Now he needed revenge.

“Elain—Truth or dare?” Azriel already knew which one she would choose, but they had to play the game.

“Dare.”

Just as he had hoped.

“I dare you to ask Gwyn to go skinny dipping in the lake with you right now.”

“Oh,” Elain feigned surprise. “So that’s how it’s going to be? What do you say, Gwyn, should we give the boys a taste of their own medicine?”

“Now hold on. That wasn’t—” Azriel’s half-hearted protest was interrupted when Gwyn stood up and tugged off her (it was actually his, but she’d stolen it) hoodie.

“There is nothing I would like more,” Gwyn replied with a wicked-looking grin aimed at Azriel.

Elain and Gwyn walked down the beach, a trail of discarded clothes marking their path to the lakeshore.

Slowly, Azriel and Lucien rose and turned as one, as if there were little more than puppets on strings.

Inky water swallowed pale limbs and soft curves as they walked further out. The two women seemed to glow in the light of the nearly full moon reflecting off the breeze wrinkled surface of the lake. They were ethereal, otherworldly, like nymphs or sirens.

Azriel glanced at Lucien to find the man already looking at him. They exchanged nods, starting to follow the trail their girlfriends had left behind.

Gwyn and Elain stopped when the water was just below their shoulders. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but the next thing he knew their hands were in each other's wet hair and they were kissing.

“Fuck me.” The words sounded like they’d been punched out of Lucien’s gut.

“Yeah,” Azriel breathed. He shared the sentiment.

“Well boys,” Gwyn’s voice carried over the water. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to join us?”

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @talons-and-teeth @krem-does-stuff @iftheshoef1tz @thelovelymadone @mmiscbutterflies @shadowriel @foundress0fnothing @sunshinebingo @octobers-veryown @areyoudreaminof @moonpatroclus @separatist-apologist @kingofsummer93 @velidewrites @wittyrejoinder @bagelfyre @itsthedoodle @sv0430

#kate's celebratory drabbles series #gwynriel #elucien #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #with some #azriel x lucien #gwyn x elain #luzriel #gwynlain #gwynriel fanfiction #elucien fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar drabble #acotar au

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capricioussun · 3 months ago

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A favorite/memorable quote?

I am honestly so atrocious with quotes. I'm sorry </3 I am curious tho so I will try to find some another time, but I can give some song lyrics I associate with them!

Rus - Here come, go rummaging / Oh where has your poor stammer been? / Gone like the Pliocene / So temporary, got lost in between // Cosmo Sheldrake - Pliocene

Edge - And now I want brimstone in my garden / I want roses set on fire / And I, well I want what's best for me / And I, well, I think I know just what that means / Just what that means // Mother Mother - Little Pistol

Stretch - I'm fine / I'm here like half of the time / That's nothing new, it's a crime / And a crying shame // Hippo Campus - Ashtray

Void - This is the sound we make / When in between two places / Where we used to bleed / And where our blood needs to be // Twenty One Pilots - Bandito

Sky (glitchedswap Sans) - With your eyes closed watching a strange show play out in your head / But you were smiling somehow / And your day froze and everyone in it sat still as a rose / But we were moving somehow // Copeland - Chin Up

Lace (lovefell Papyrus) - I don't want to be a soldier / Who the captain of some sinking ship / Would stow / Far below / So if you love me / Why'd you let me go? // Coldplay - Violet Hill

Red - Oh brother - man, you call that recovered? / Tripped on a couple steps, and collapsed on the stairs / Broke my neck on the backs of those who I've hurt and scared / Like it's a good thing, you said "you've got your whole life ahead" / Oh great, another half a century to live to regret / I'd rather be anybody else instead // Will Wood - Half-Decade Hangover

(continuation from here)

#sun spots #ut rus #uf edge #us stretch #gs sky #lf lace #uf red

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lucky-clover-gazette · 1 year ago

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The Big Picture

The Four Swords manga, adapted/retold using both canon and additional scenes, with a focus on Vio and Shadow's individual characters and ambiguous relationship.

Chapter Two: Who Are You? (Part One)

Link glances down at his own tunic. So that would make him…

“Purple,” Red says, although he doesn’t seem quite satisfied with the title. Link—not Purple—crosses his arms over his chest. “No… Violet? Maybe just Vio?”

“Isn’t that a girl’s name?” Vio mutters, although he’s already subconsciously using it for himself. Red either pretends not to hear his question or simply decides it isn’t worth answering.

Read the rest on ao3 or under the cut:

As rare creatures who thrive in both the Dark World and realm of light, the dragons have been invaluable to Ganon and Vaati’s grand evil plan. It had taken some negotiation with the union leaders, but sure enough, Shadow basically has an entire fleet of them at his disposal. And look at him now!

“Fly! Fly, my dark ones!” he calls to his minions, perched atop the strongest of the bunch. “Tear down Hyrule Castle!”

The dragons cover the castle in darkness, alerting the guards outside. Shadow steadies himself on the lead dragon’s back, reaching out an arm for balance. The loose sleeve of his undershirt flutters in the wind. “There’s a new Link in this chain!”

Shadow’s dragon opens her mouth wide, politely informing the guards that there is a fireball in her throat. The cowards drop their spears at once, literally running for the hills. Shadow hopes they’re singed on their way out.

He still expects some resistance inside the castle. During mandatory research he’d learned all about the royal knights, whose forces are lead by the hero’s own father. And he knows the four heroes will show up, too, eventually. How could they not? Those idiots are courage personified.

But so is Shadow, and he actually has the guts to get his hands dirty. Their strengths may match his strengths, being cut from the same cloth, but they have four times the weaknesses. In a way, the Four Sword’s bizarre magic only makes Shadow’s chances better—not that he’s ever needed fate’s intervention in the first place.

He glances down at his tunic, focusing his magic on its many interwoven threads. One by one they shift from black to green, making him the spitting image of Hyrule’s savior.

“Well?” he asks the dragon, putting his hands on his hips. “How do I look?”

She shakes her disapproval with only a second’s glance.

“Missed something, huh?”

The dragon huffs.

“Where’s a Dark Mirror when you need one, am I right?” He runs a hand through his hair, very proud of the quip. “Oh, my hair!”

Purple locks shift to blonde, red eyes to blue as a final touch. Shadow clears his throat. “Okay, what about now?”

The dragon’s nearest deadly claw curls into a thumbs-up.

“Thanks,” Shadow says, and means it.

─────────────────

It would be a beautiful hike, if not for the circumstances.

Link stands directly beneath a rainbow, the cool spray of a waterfall hitting his back. The four have made good time through the sprawling overworld, trekking through dense woods and climbing down a scenic cliffside.

“Are we there yet?” Link asks, second-closest to the front of the group. Of course the one in green takes the lead, as he clearly enjoys doing, while the other two lag slightly behind.

“We should see it when we cross the river!” answers the leader, while someone pants loudly behind them both.

“Can we rest a little?”

That was definitely the Link in red. Link turns his head and sure enough, the guy is on his hands and knees like he just singlehandedly took down an entire hinox. But if we’re all echoes of the same person, Link wonders, how is one of us more easily exhausted than the rest?

Throughout the quiet hike, he’s found himself questioning many aspects of the others’ and his own personhood. It’s a bizarre feeling, to know you’ve been alive for nineteen years, but you’ve only been yourself for less than a day. He is simply not the same Link who drew the Four Sword from its pedestal, which is a difficult reality to accept when that former self is the very foundation of his existence. All of his questions have led back to this: where does Link Prime end, and where does he begin?

“We don’t have time for that,” their unofficial leader tells the Link in red. “We’ve got to tell my father about all this as soon as possible!”

His father? Our father? Link isn’t quite sure. He has memories of the captain, of course, all the way from childhood to young adulthood. But just as with Zelda, there’s a certain distance he can’t help but feel. Link watches the memories in his mind like an actor is playing himself. He can recall the hero’s past, but lacks the emotional and sensory details of actually experiencing it.

The most brutish of the four clears his throat. “First, we need to make a decision.”

“About what?” asks the Link in red, who seems to have caught his breath. Guess he got his rest after all.

“Names! Names!” hollers the Link in blue. “We can’t all be called Link, we need nicknames!”

At first Link bristles at the thought of this—that’s his name!—but quickly realizes that the conviction just isn’t there. Maybe he doesn’t feel like just Link anyway. He wonders what the almighty Goddesses would think about that.

“I wear red clothes,” says the Link wearing red clothes, “so call me Red. You’re Blue…”

“Huh?!”

Link glances down at his own tunic. So that would make him…

“Purple,” Red says, although he doesn’t seem quite satisfied with the title. Link—not Purple—crosses his arms over his chest. “No… Violet? Maybe just Vio?”

“And Green! Whady’a think?”

Green runs a hand through his hair. “It’s weird, but it makes sense. I guess.”

Blue, meanwhile, is less willing to accept Red’s idea. “You can’t just change people’s names,” he fumes, pointer finger outstretched. “I won’t answer to anything other than Link!”

“It’s a great idea!” Red enthuses. “I’m a genius!”

“You’re an idiot!” Blue shoots back, stepping up on a rock for just a little more height than others. “Look, just ‘cuz we look alike doesn’t mean we’re gonna be buddies!”

“You’re no fun...”

“Riiiiiiight,” Vio says, finding that he quite enjoys being a snarky contrarian. “Hanging around with you fools is dangerous to my health.”

Blue grabs him by the collar, but he remains thoroughly unimpressed. “You callin’ me a fool? I oughta…”

“Oh, c’mon! Stop it!” shouts Green, his eyes sparkling with self-righteousness. “We’re all copies of the same person! Do you really want to hurt yourself?”

Distantly, Vio wonders how exactly that would work—do they feel each other’s pain? Maybe if he can goad Blue into actually throwing a punch, he’ll—

“Don’t say this guy is the same as me, or I’ll pop you too!” Blue growls, now pointing at Green. “You three can call each other stupid nicknames!”

Vio smirks and slides away, making a mental note to investigate at a later time. Having observed Blue’s first few hours of existence, he expects many more violent outbursts to come.

“My nicknames aren’t stupid,” Red says quietly. Vio knows he should say something reassuring, but it doesn’t come as naturally as it once did. And before he can figure out the right words to say, the conversation has already moved forward.

“If there’s a main Link,” says Green, “it’s me! Everyone knows Link dresses in green!”

Blue stretches his tunic as if searching the fabric for any hint of greenish pigment. “Rats.”

For a second Vio thinks this is a sign of resignation, but then Blue launches towards Green in a new fit of rage. “You think you’re better’n me just cuz you wear green!” he shouts, grabbing at Green’s tunic. “Take it off! We’re switching tunics right now! And hats, too!”

Vio can’t help but smirk at the absurdity of it all. Red, meanwhile, seems genuinely confused. “Why isn’t ‘Blue’ me more laid-back and mellow? If we’re all the same person, why are our personalities so different?

Green shoves Blue away, his tunic still completely intact. “Because we’re each a part of my… errr… Link’s whole personality,” he tells Red, ignoring Blue’s indignant huff. “Green is focused and motivated,” he says of himself, and Vio almost has to respect his unearned confidence. “Blue is hotheaded and aggressive—”

“What?!”

“Red is innocent and optimistic,” Vio interjects, patting the poor guy on the head. See? He can be nice. He’s great at being nice.

“Oh, I see!” Red exclaims, turning to Vio with a smile. “Vio is super cool.”

Vio finds himself glancing away, bangs falling over his eyes. Is one backhanded compliment all it takes to earn this simpleton’s respect? It feels too easy, too shallow. Red can’t possibly respect him if he doesn’t understand him, and none of them understand each other in the slightest. “Hmmm…. I’d prefer calm and collected.”

Before he can gauge Red’s response, Vio spots two familiar women climbing up the cliffside. The others see them too, finishing each other’s thoughts aloud:

“That’s…” Blue says, his voice low.

“… Arcy…” Vio mutters, the name familiar on his tongue.

“… the castle cook!” Red exclaims, and now Vio remembers why.

“Hey, Arcy!” Green calls out, hands cupped around his mouth.

The others rush towards the women, ignoring Vio’s motion to stop. “Idiots! Not at all once!”

“Arcy,” Green repeats, “thank goodness! We got lost trying to find the—”

Arcy wields a stick like a sword, pointing it right at the four. Beside her, the young girl looks absolutely petrified. “Stay back,” Arcy warns, “you monsters! How did you find us all the way out here?”

Red wipes at a tear. “Monsters? That really hurts!”

Green continues to talk when he really should just shut up and let Arcy explain—although Vio is already piecing things together himself. “Listen, Arcy, I drew the Four Sword and got split in four. But inside we’re all the same Link!”

“All the way out here…” Vio mutters, too busy contemplating Arcy’s words to disagree with Green’s demonstrably incorrect explanation.

“I used to think you were a good kid!” Arcy cries, holding onto the small girl for dear life. “But those things you did… you’re a demon for sure!”

Blue looks incredulous. “What did I do?”

“Wait,” Vio says, meeting Arcy’s panicked gaze. “Do you mean a dark, shadowy Link?”

She gives him the smallest of nods. While Vio just rolls his eyes at the reminder of that purple-haired freak, Green lunges for the poor woman.

“The castle,” he demands, grabbing desperately at Arcy’s wrists. “What happened at Hyrule Castle?”

#my writing #four swords #fs #shadow link #vio link #red link #blue link #green link

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mi-rae07 · 2 years ago

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Kim Hongjoong : Angels And Demons

Pairing : Kim Hongjoong (Ateez) and named character (Helena Ford)

______________

A/n : suddenly got some inspiration??

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Helena looked down at the families that were laughing at each other's jokes and eating food from their picnic baskets, clearly in their own worlds. They were all supernatural creatures, warriors, who hunt down demons and killed them, protecting the humans who knew nothing about demons and other supernatural beings. But even they had families, even they had people who loved them. People of their own kind.

While helena didn't. but that, she supposed, she could give to the fact that she was Lucifer's daughter. The fallen archangel people were usually afraid of. She wasn't supposed to be walking on Earth, let alone stare at a bunch of familes that were comprised of people who were born to kill people like her. Maybe not her, but demons that usually worked under the commands of other higher demons like helena, and her father.

Helena's ears perked up as she realized someone was climbing up the hill she was standing on right now, a someone she needed to avoid. But before she could so much as turn around, the someone was already standing right in front of her, his brown curious eyes staring into her violet ones.

??? : you have purple eyes.

Helena : violet.

??? : isn't that exactly what I said?

Helena : violet is a true color, part of the natural spectrum of light. Purple isn't.

??? : so, what, you're a light-enthusiast who can see people you aren't really supposed to even know about?

Oh, right. The Families, bore marks on their bodies that differentiated them from other humans, so these warriors were usually unseen by normal humans. And helena bore none of those Marks. Once again, because she was Lucifer's daughter and descended straight from Hell. So of course, the someone would certainly assume she wasn't one of the supernatural.

Helena : I'm not a normal human.

??? : you mean you're not a mundane.

Helena : yes. So scurry about and just have fun with your little picnics, warrior.

??? : you make me sound less like a warrior and more like a little rat, miss. What is your name, by the way?

Helena : you need not know.

??? : let's strike a deal then. You tell me your name, and I tell you mine.

Helena : I never wanted to know your-

??? : Kim Hongjoong. Now tell me yours.

Helena : oh. So you're the son of the infamous Kim Family, then.

Hongjoong : infamous? We're famous for good reasons, just as I am.

Except in hell they weren't. If they were known for good reasons on Earth and among angels, then they would definitely be considered infamous in hell. Except hongjoong wasn't supposed to know that.

Hongjoong : I thought you'd recognize me just by seeing me, but apparently not. Are you not from here?

Of course he would expect helena to know him. He was hongjoong, he was known to have slain a demon ranked just right below the higher ones at the mere age of 20, which had been 4 years ago. Everyone in hell and heaven knew him.

Helena : my name is Helena.

The Families knew lucifer's daughter, they knew lucifer had had a half-demon, half-warrior, half-faerie daughter with a lady residing on Earth. Except the families knew her as Normani, the one who bore the Necrosword, not Helena.

Hongjoong : helena what?

Oh, shit. She had to make up a last name. not hard.

Helena : ford. Helena Ford.

Hongjoong blinked his eyes in confusion, one that helena had expected.

Hongjoong : you're a descendant of…Maria Ford?

No, she was her daughter.

Helena : Maria was only one of the 5 other children of Henry Ford. And we do not accept her as family anymore. She is long dead.

Hongjoong : aren't you supposed to be in Italy, then? What are you doing in Korea?

Helena : I escaped from my family.

Helena supposed that was half-true.

Hongjoong : and crossed an entire continent by yourself?

She portal-ed herself here.

Helena : always this curious?

Hongjoong : yes, if you noticed.

??? : KIM HONGJOONG!

Hongjoong's eyes widened as he realized his bestfriend was screaming for him, a bestfriend who would probably tell the entire world about this strange lady in front of him. And so he turned to helena, saying quickly

Hongjoong : stay…right here or hide behind that tree. I'll be back within a few minutes.

Hongjoong didn't wait to hear what helena had to say and ran down the hill, rushing towards his bestfriend with a convincing smile on his face.

Hongjoong : Hi! So…where was I? ah yes, the girls being all over me the other day-

Seonghwa : joong, where the hell were you?

Hongjoong : what, can a man not do his things in private?

Seonghwa : ugh, joong-ah! There's…bathrooms.

Hongjoong : it's 1910, the bathrooms are not yet developed to handle me yet.

Seonghwa made a disgusted face and was about to say something when hongjoong chuckled and led him forward hastily, hoping he wouldn't notice hongjoong's lies. Because he needed to go back to the lady up the hill.

Except when he did go back to find her, she was nowhere to be found. But hongjoong had not seen anyone creep down the hill at any time within the hour. So if not by climbing down the hill, how the hell did she get out of there?

________________________

A week later :

Hongjoong had just stepped out of his room for a midnight snack when seonghwa rushed right into him. Something was wrong.

Hongjoong : okay hwa, what the hell.

Seonghwa : oh god, you're awake. There's been a demon attack.

Hongjoong wasn't on night duty today. And so he yawned, rubbing his eye as he said

Hongjoong : there's demon attacks every day, what's so special today?

Seonghwa : this one's happening at the graveyard.

Hongjoong's eyes slightly widened as he looked at seonghwa in confusion

Hongjoong : wait, our graveyard? The one where-

Seonghwa : our ancestors are buried yes, hongjoong please. Come along with me, right now.

Hongjoong nodded as the both of them walked towards the meeting room in the Institute, which was where hongjoong and his parents lived. It was the center for all the Families living in Korea. And the Kim's were it's heads, which was why they ran and resided in the Institute.

Seonghwa opened the door to the meeting room as the both of them entered, the discussions that were going on between the other people in the room immediately ceasing at the sight of seonghwa and hongjoong.

San : finally, you're here. Couldn't you get up a bit earlier when the emergency alarm rang, hongjoong?

Hongjoong : I needed my beauty sleep-

Seonghwa : can we not joke and get into the matter?

San sighed and nodded, walking over to the table as seonghwa gave hongjoong the look that he already knew well by now. Hongjoong and seonghwa were warrior partners, they were two people who balanced each other out completely. Both in battle, and in real life. Hongjoong was the sarcastic one, always getting himself in trouble. And seonghwa was the more serious one, who bailed hongjoong out of trouble. The classic.

San : this demon attack, we do not know why it's happening right now, like this. Especially in the graveyard, because it's supposed to be protected from demons. Warded against it.

Yeosang : there have been no casualties as of now, as the mundanes haven't really woken up yet-

Hongjoong : yes it's only 3am, give them a break, yeosang-ah.

Seonghwa : hongjoong.

Hongjoong threw his hands up in the air, letting out a breath before sitting back on a chair.

Seonghwa : we need to understand why this is happening. Hongjoong and I will go.

Hongjoong : and what ever of my consent?

Seonghwa : you're my partner, if I agree, you do too. Do we have a warrant, then?

Seonghwa looked at the others in the room, waiting for approval. The people in the room nodded, making san sigh as he stamped the seal of consent onto a piece of paper before handing it to seonghwa. Hongjoong sighed, getting up from his seat as he said, sarcasm lacing his tone

Hongjoong : well then, partner, shall we slay some demons to start the day off on a bright note?

________________________

Hongjoong : seonghwa! Throw me my axe, will you?

Seonghwa slashed his blade across a demon and threw the axe that had been earlier stuck on a tree trunk back to hongjoong, making him catch it as he buried it right onto another demon's chest. It stepped away from hongjoong, spasming before vanishing into plain air.

Hongjoong : did those bastards send us on a death mission?

Seonghwa chuckled before kicking a demon away from him, turning to face another one as he said

Seonghwa : don't flatter them like that, joong. We both know they all want you dead so they could acquire the power you would get from your parents once of age.

Hongjoong : you're the one who proposed this bullshit of an idea, hwa!

Hongjoong threw his axe at a demon that was right behind seonghwa before sliding up to it, taking a hold of his axe before pulling it away from the dead demon's body.

Seonghwa : I want them to know you're not going to die so easily.

Hongjoong : well! Now I think you're going to prove them just right. We're bloody outnumbered.

Seonghwa : you're literally the slayer of Basilius. Stop talking nonsense.

Hongjoong : Basilius was killed one-on-one! I didn't have to kill an entire graveyard of demons while fighting him.

Seonghwa : you did have to kill a graveyard of them before fighting Basilius anyway.

Hongjoong groaned as he killed yet another demon, it's ichor falling right onto his gear.

Hongjoong : it was a garden.

Seonghwa chuckled, using his mini blade to slash through the neck of a demon. But what he didn't realize was that hongjoong was stepping farther away from him after each kill of his, unknowingly. There were too many demons for either of them to notice.

And when hongjoong finally had noticed, seonghwa was nowhere to be seen. Instead hongjoong was now fighting a few other demons in the forest right next to the graveyard, the Mark that allowed him to see clearly in the dark coming to his advantage. But it wasn't for long, because soon enough hongjoong had tripped over a stone on the floor, falling on the floor as his axe fell away from him. Hongjoong reached for his weapons belt, hoping to take out a blade. But there were too many demons near to him, there was no way he could do any of that in time.

Before he could process things, three arrows flew straight past him, each arrow thrusting into the chest of three demons that were right in front of hongjoong. Hongjoong looked behind him with widened eyes as it landed on a figure of lady that was now running at a fast pace towards hongjoong, all while shooting arrows straight at the demons. Damn, she had good aim.

She threw her bow away as she had exhausted her arrows, leaning down and picking up hongjoong's axe before starting to fight the nearby demons with it. And she was swift in her moves, faster than any other warrior hongjoong had seen, and killed all the demons near to him within seconds.

The lady turned around as she threw the axe back at hongjoong, her face finally coming into hongjoong's sight.

Hongjoong : helena.

Hongjoong caught his axe from the air, flipping himself over as he slashed a demon right across it's waist, making it vanish. And soon they were both fighting together, killing demons quicker than ever. At least, helena was. Hongjoong was half killing the demons, half awing at how good helena was at fighting. She was definitely a Ford, it was evident in her moves.

But soon enough, hongjoong noticed in shock, the demons were retreating away from them, away from helena.

Hongjoong : what-

Hongjoong cut himself off as a mini blade flew right through his side, crashing into the arm of a demon right behind him as it died with the blade. The ichor splashed against hongjoong's cheek, making him stare at helena as she said

Helena : focus, warrior.

Hongjoong let out a breath and pulled a demon away from helena, kicking it away before stabbing his axe right into his chest. And that was the last of them, the rest of the demons had just vanished, back to where it came from.

Hongjoong breathed heavily as he stared at helena, who was now wiping the ichor away from her blade nonchalantly.

Hongjoong : who are you.

Helena : do you people have short-term memory loss? I told you-

Helena cut herself off as hongjoong walked up to her, taking his axe before slicing through helena's arm. Helena frowned, looking at hongjoong with furious eyes.

Helena : how dare you-

Hongjoong : I thought so.

Helena stared at hongjoong who was watching the earlier cut on her arm fade away in amusement, the skin repairing itself.

Helena : what are you doing?

Hongjoong : you're not from here at all, are you-

Helena : I am a Ford, I told you. We have special powers.

Hongjoong : what, Lucifer gave all members of your blood the power to heal from any cut almost instantly?

Again, helena supposed that was half true. Lucifer did give helena the power to heal from her cuts almost instantly. The Fords did not really have it. But how would hongjoong know?

Helena : yes, after he took Maria Ford as his wife.

Hongjoong stared at helena in half-scrutiny, contemplating on whether to trust this lady. But she had saved his life after all, hadn't she?

Hongjoong : fine, then so be it. But that does not excuse the fact that you ran away from me. From the hill, that day-

Seonghwa : yah! You betrayer!

Hongjoong shut his eyes tightly as he turned to face seonghwa who was now walking towards hongjoong, a cut on his arm and another on his temple.

Seonghwa : those creatures literally vanishe-

Seonghwa cut himself off as his eyes landed on helena, who just stared at seonghwa. Hongjoong walked towards seonghwa, inspecting his best friend's cuts with worried eyes. The warriors did have something like what helena had, they healed from their cuts too. Although not instantly, it took them a day at maximum. A few minutes being the minimum.

Hongjoong : these will heal soon. Thank god.

Seonghwa : joong, who is she?

Hongjoong : oh! Meet Helena Ford, from the family who holds powers that allow them to heal their cuts almost instantly.

Seonghwa eyed helena with suspicion as he asked

Seonghwa : the Fords can heal their own cuts like that?

Helena : have you met any Ford?

Seonghwa : no.

Helena : then don't ask stupid questions.

Seonghwa : I don't like you.

Helena : lucky for us, I don't like you either.

Seonghwa : I-

Hongjoong : okay! Don't be toddlers now.

Helena : I am not a toddler.

Hongjoong : then don't act like one, simple enough.

Helena opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as hongjoong tapped seonghwa's arm and said

Hongjoong : let's go back to the institute.

Seonghwa : but hongjoong, those demons, they retreated-

Hongjoong : we'll talk about those once we reach the institute, alright? It's dark outside and there can be other dangers. Let's go back.

Seonghwa sighed and nodded, giving helena one last look before turning back to go to their carriage. Hongjoong turned to face helena, her purple…violet eyes almost glowing in the dark. She wasn't normal, hongjoong knew that.

Hongjoong : come with us?

Helena : you literally cut through my arm, you expect me to trust you now?

Hongjoong looked away and walked towards helena, lifting the blade that was still held tight in her hand before slicing his own arm with it, making helena stare as blood dripped down his arm.

Hongjoong : equal now?

Helena : so you're sick in the brain.

Hongjoong : I'm a warrior, an eye for an eye, is how it works for us.

Hongjoong turned around and walked towards the same direction seonghwa had walked through, his axe dangling loosely in his hand as he said in a sing-song manner

Hongjoong : come with me, little demon. I hear the Fords love a good tea.

____________________

#kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong ff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong fluff #ateez ff #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kpop ff #kpop angst #kpop fluff #angst #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines

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dazzle-art · 1 year ago

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Ashe/M!Shez wip for day 1 of fe rarepair week because life got in the way before I could finish so take this and go 💙💜

700 words

Prompt: Snow

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Oh, snow.

Cold, glorious snow.

Painting the whole of Faerghus in beautiful white.

Tree tops, fields of flowers, the roofs of buildings.

Faerghus loved to snow all year round, but particularly, this was a truly beautiful late Ethereal moon.

Almost the end of the moon. It would be a new year quite soon the dawn of something brand new.

Ashe would have more to do at the start of the year, especially since he had been shirking his duties as of late.

But how could he help it? Special guests didn’t come around this often!

Even if they’ve been in Gaspard territory for quite a few moons now, lodging within his own manor.

But as as the new (ish) Lord, Ashe had an obligation to help his citizens and those in need.

Especially one that he served in war with.

War time, it is never pleasant. Painting the world in blood instead of sunlight, ripping life from flesh, tearing family from family, taking sons and daughters from fathers and mothers. A horrid time where soldiers are thrown at each other as “necessary sacrifices” for the “greater good”.

The death Ashe had seen just a few short years ago. It would live on with him forever, carved into his heart, etched in his mind, with him, always.

He would carry their names, carry their words, carry their breaths, always, with him, and until the very end.

Ashe was sure he would have lost his mind had it not been for the allies that had helped him along the way, friends he probably would not had met if life had gone differently when he was young.

But where was the use of dwelling on the ifs, the hows, the whats?

What was important was the here, and the now.

And the now?

Garreg Mach Founding Day.

Ashe hadn’t planned to do much. After all, he had only spent a few short weeks there years ago. But a certain violet haired man sleeping in one of the many rooms had urged that they should do something together.

Maybe a feast? Maybe a party?

Who knew?

Only Shez would.

And he was sure to keep Ashe waiting, sitting on the soft couch in his room, gazing out into the midmorning through the window, adoring the falling snow.

He remembered when snow fell like this, soft and careful. When a free moment was scarce, and had to be treasured. When worrying about what to do with your free time ate into it, devoured it whole. When war ran the people of the world ragged.

A large hilltop of snow, a single tree at the top of it. Running, leaving fresh prints behind in untouched white. Laughter from not just one, but two people.

“Come on!” Shez had called, gripping hard onto Ashe’s hand, his warmth seeping through Ashe’s gloves like sea water. “It’s just up here!”

“What is it you wanted to show me?” Ashe had gasped, trailing just behind his closest friend and ally. The man had come barreling into his tent just a few minutes beforehand, urging him outside at the beck of something beautiful to see. “Is it far?”

“It’s not much further now!” Shez had assured him, holding his free hand up to cover his eyes from the then-falling snow. “Look! That’s the hill!”

It was only one moment later when the pair came to a halt, causing Ashe to almost bowl over and fall into the snow. When he had situated himself he followed Shez’s gaze off into the forest.

“Whoa…”

Oh, the sight of it.

A clearing that they had once picnicked in, blanketed in perfectly untouched snow, undisturbed from people or wildlife, lacing the trees, freezing the river, laying of grass-blades, frosting the petals of flowers.

A sight that made Shez smile so brightly, bright enough to rival the reflections of pure white into is eyes.

“Let’s go make snow angels!” Shez laughed, taking a step forward, and bringing the silver-gray haired man with him. The snow was cold, frigid, freezing, but the warmth inside of him at the sight of his closest friend being so excited kept him warm.

How long ago was that now?

Too long.

#no beta we die like glenn fraldarius #razz writes #fe rarepair week #ship tag #ashe ubert #ashe duran #shez #m!shez #ashez #wipperoni

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the-delta-42 · 5 months ago

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The Walking Dead Game What Ifs: What if the Communities re-founded the USA?

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Restoration

What if the Communities re-founded the USA? (This one is a bit shit)

“We don’t know what’s in the ambulances,” Sighed Clementine, pinching the bridge of her nose, “they’re still being dug out.”

The Ericson’s community had found a fleet of ambulances sitting in a clearing, most were covered in dirt and caught in a mess of tangled weeds. The Coalition was practically abuzz with the potential medical supplies and equipment in them.

“If we can get sample of the medicine,” Came a woman’s voice from the Commonwealth radio, “we could restart production of them.”

“The same can be said for the tools.” Said Maggie, the leader of Hilltop, “having all those medical journals would be useless if you don’t have the right tools for them.”

“Heh,” Clementine let out a humourless laugh, “not gonna lie, a bone saw would’ve made losing my leg a bit easier.”

“Would the vehicles themselves be salvageable?” Asked Rick, the leader of Alexandria, “Having something that makes a lot of noise could help with directing Walkers.”

Clementine heard a car alarm going off, “Well, the car alarm works.”

“That’s good,” Said Javi, “I’ve managed to convince Lingard and Eleanor to send their medical journals to Ericson, so you can work of transcribing them.”

“I’ll get Aasim working on it when they arrive,” Promised Clementine, “How’s the restorations going?”

“Since our numbers suddenly boosted,” Said Rick, “we’ve managed to keep steady progress. The Kingdom, Heaps and Woodbury have practically been cleared, and we all know that Hill Top was successfully reestablished.”

Clementine was silent for a moment, “What about the Civic Republic?”

“They haven’t responded to any of the messages we’ve sent.” Sighed The Commonwealth radio, “We’ve given them a time and location to meet. We’re going to go alone, in case they decided to shoot us.”

Clementine sighed, as Rick called the meeting to a close, after signing off, she turned off the radios. Looking down of the window, she saw Louis and AJ pulling a gurney out of the buried ambulance, not far from them, Violet kept a gun pointing at a corpse, in case it was a Walker.

Part of her was cynical about the Civic Republic, but another part of her dared to be hopeful that things would turn out okay.

“How old are you?”

Clementine glanced at the man from the Civic Republic.

“I was eight when the world went to shit, turned nine a few months in,” Clementine glanced up, “It’s been, what, twelve years since all this started?”

“And you’ve been leading them for five years?” Asked the man, frowning.

“More or less,” Shrugged Clementine, looking around as the various CR doctors examined everyone, “What’s all this about?”

“We were told you were building a library,” Answered the man, “we decided to check it out. Part of us checking it out, we take blood samples from everyone. Give our doctors something more to work with in making a cure.”

Clementine sighed, “Apparently you still have money.”

“We do.”

“If you want to assimilate the communities, you’ll need to offer them something a bit more appealing.” Offered Clementine, “With us, it’s books. With Richmond, it’s medical supplies. There’s a community some ways south of here that will only let you in if you offer them bullets.”

“That’s good to know.” Smiled the man, just as a man clutched his chest and collapsed.

“Oh, fuck.” Said Clementine, calmly pulling out a pistol from her waistband.

“He’s fine!” Yelled the doctor, “I just gave him a sedative!”

Clementine let out a low whistle, looking around the parliament of the Civic Republic of Philadelphia, “Alright, I’m impressed.”

The sound of a gavel hitting a desk made the room go silent.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Said a Civic Republic senator, “while we all know why we’re here, I feel the need to state it.”

Clementine sneezed.

“Bless you.” Said the Senator, before going back on subject, “Hopefully, today, the United States of America can come into existence once more.”

“Shouldn’t we be in DC for this?” Yelled one of the guests.

“The current state of the Democratic County isn’t properly sustainable at present.” Excused the senator, getting a frown from Clementine.

“So why don’t we clear it then?” Yelled another, “You talk about funds and computers, what use are they to us?”

Clementine groaned, looking around, noticing the shade of red the Senator’s face went.

“Both of you are soldiers,” Stated a woman, making the room go quiet as she stood up, “I was told about Operation Cobalt, about how you and your squads ran through the streets killing everyone you found.” She glanced at the senator, “While the Civic Republic has been slow, they have all of us outclassed in every way possible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Asked Clinton, frowning.

“It means we can bitch and moan about why or why not we’re not in Washington,” Said the woman, looking around, “but we can’t make a move on it without them. They have managed to consistently keep their shit together while the rest of us were stealing from, fighting and killing each other.”

The woman took a breath, looking around the room, “We have the experience to deal with the Walkers, but experience is nothing without resources. The Civic Republic has those resources, they have the men, the weapons, vehicles and, everything that’s needed to deal with the Walkers.”

Looking around, “I know I don’t speak for everyone,” the woman swallowed, “but I’d gladly follow the Civic Republic, if it means an enduring sense of safety, for everyone.”

The woman glared at the group, as the senator spoke up, “We have enough food, medicine and weapons to help with the clean-up, as well as a working vaccine to combat the bites, with a provisional vaccine to fight back at it.”

“We have tested it on bite victims,” A scientist stood up, as the woman sat back down, “they have all survived, and an atomized version has rendered the Walking Dead to just…dead.”

“We cannot distribute the vaccine without everyone being under the same banner.” Said the Senator, looking around, “This is provisional, until the States are united again.”

Clementine frowned, before leaning over and resting her head on Louis’s shoulder, “I’m beginning to regret coming here.”

“We cannot go forward unofficially,” Declared the Senator, “the leader of each community is asked to sign the declaration, and their community will receive all the benefits of being part of the Civic Republic.”

Clementine glanced at Louis, before swallowing, “This vaccine, cure, thing, if a pregnant woman is injected, would the baby be immune to the virus?”

The Senator blinked, before looking at the scientist, who responded, “Our research points to that conclusion.”

Clementine and Louis shared a look, with Clementine gnawed at her bottom lip.

“I know, it sounds bad.”

“Clem,” Sighed Louis, “It is bad. You yourself said we should keep to our word and we promised them that we’d stay until a definite conclusion.”

“I know.” Groaned Clementine, burying her face in her hands.

“What was that, anyway?” Asked Louis, “Today, at that meeting? You asked about pregnant women, no one at home’s pregnant!”

Clementine looked down, making Louis’s stomach drop, “Wait. A-are you…?”

“I found out just before we left.”

Louis dropped down across from her, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clementine swallowed.

“Clem!”

“I didn’t know how! Alright?!” Burst Clementine, “How the hell can I tell anyone without it being some big fucking bombshell!” Clementine got up and started pacing, “I, I mean, how can I look after a child?! I barely managed with AJ, and even then, I had help!”

Louis sighed, before standing and firmly placing his hands on Clementine’s shoulder, “Listen to yourself.” Clementine breathed heavily, before Louis brought their foreheads together, “I love you, but sometimes you can be so dumb. You know what Ruby tells us, ‘it takes two to tango’. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, we’ll get through this. Together.”

Clementine closed her eyes, and let out a choked sob. Louis pulled her close and held her as she started crying.

“This,” Violet looked around the sea of people, “is going to take some getting used to.”

Across Ericson’s grounds, people were milling around, carrying supplies and weapons. After the signing the Civic Republic moved to clear the surrounding states of Walkers, then moving on to the next state. Violet hadn’t been happy when Clementine and Louis returned and told the others about the deal, but it was starting to look like it had its benefits.

Violet also wasn’t complaining that a cute soldier had arrived a few days ago.

“Hey.” Violet looked up at Clarice, “You okay, blondie?”

“I’m just…thinking.”

“Do you usually contort your hands when you think?”

“No,” Clementine limped past, “that’s recent.”

Violet frowned, “Clem, where’re you going?”

“For a walk.” Louis rushed past Violet and Clarice, as Clementine got further away.

“So…” Clarice gave Violet a look, “when’s she due?”

“Some time in July, I think.”

R 15 Years Later

Lee watched at his dad stomped around the park. He glanced around, Carley and their mom were out, so Lee had to deal with his dad’s bad mood.

“So…” Louis looked over, “What happened?”

“Well,” Louis rocked back on his heels, “AJ’s gone walk-abouts, Ruby’s sick and your sister has decided to decorate the ceiling of her room with food.”

“Soo…” Lee looked to the side, “it’s not about the bike?”

“Your mother’s going to deal with that.” Said Louis, before sighing.

Lee winced, as looked around. There were the odd Walkers, if they could be called that. He never knew of the Walkers that his parents faced, especially since his mom was famous for how effective she was against them. It also transferred over to people, since there were groups were resistant to the reinstation of the government.

“At least it wasn’t a car.” Joked Lee, as a car pulled into the central area of Ericson.

“Speaking of.” Muttered Louis, as Clementine and Carley hopped out of the car.

“We almost ran over James on the way here,” Said Clementine, “I think he’s still pissy about losing his personal herd.”

“Lee’s admitted to the crashed bike.” Said Louis, in way of greeting.

“That’s nice.” Responded Clementine, “Our beloved President has declared that all traces of the Wildfire Virus have been expunged from the United States.”

Louis let out a snort, “Great, when’s the rest of the world gonna get it?”

“Well,” Clementine handed Lee a bag, “I heard on the grape vine that what remained of the European countries were given it, and that they’re working from there.”

Louis sighed, before looking down at Lee and Carley, “Right, you two get to bed, I’m not having Aasim rip my ear off because the two of you were late. Again.”

Clementine chuckled as the twin stomped off, “You know, it’s nice not being the bad guy for once.”

Louis gave her a smile, “Well, you do complain that I don’t do enough with them.”

Clementine playfully scoffed, giving Louis a light shove, which made Louis pull her against him with a laugh. Glancing at the growing community, Clementine felt a sense of peace. Everyone knew that the world wouldn’t fully rebuild in their lifetime, but it was their duty to give that rebuilt world a solid foundation.

Next Story: What if the New Frontier stole from the Saviors?

#the walking dead game #the walking dead #twdg clementine #twdg louis #maggie greene #rick grimes #maggie rhee #javier garcia #twdg aj #twdg violet #original characters #delta writes #TWDG What Ifs #what if

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msweebyness · 2 years ago

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Class of Villainy AU: Kidnap the Principal!

Why, what a surprise! Weeby’s doing a villain short! Here’s the lowdown: In a trademark move of ignorance, the staff of the DuPont Reform Academy has decided to allow the students from the villainous classes to make…home visits for the holiday season! And some people aren’t too happy about that, particularly Ms. Vivica “Viv” Skellington, the DuPont music teacher. Who knows what’s going to happen with Ivan Oogie back in Halloween Town? That’s where we begin our tale:

(As always, credit to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27!)

“Has that fool Damocles lost his everloving mind, Penny?!”, ranted Vivica Skellington as she stormed back and forth in the main square of her beloved Halloween Town, her girlfriend nodding as she mended a few torn stitches in her left leg, “Letting these kids out on HOLIDAY BREAK! Does he not remember how dangerous each and every one of them is?!”

“It does seem a bit reckless…”, Penny agreed in a worried tone, twisting a lock of her brilliant violet locks. Who knew what could happen with the Boogie Man back in his hometown!

“It’s completely and utterly irresponsible, is what it is! Why I oughtta scare….the wits out of him…”, the snazzily-dressed skeleton trailed off as she was suddenly hit with an idea, “Why, that’s IT!”

“…What’s it?”, Penny asked cautiously, knowing that look in her girlfriend’s eye sockets! It meant Viv was getting one of her ideas…

“Why, what better way to convince ol’ Damocles not to make this boneheaded mistake again, than to SCARE HIM STRAIGHT?! We’ll bring ‘im to Halloween Town, and give the old boy a good talking to with a little Fright Night Flair to it! Ha HA!”, Vivica explained excitedly, gesturing wildly with her bony hands.

“…If you say so, Viv…”, Penny sighed reluctantly. She wasn’t too sure about this idea, but she knew there was little chance of talking the Pumpkin Queen down when she got on a kick like this!

“And as for getting Damocles here…I know JUST the ones for the job!”, Vivica said with a sly smile.

A short while later…

The dual-faced mayor of Halloween Town cringed as he saw a certain three ghoulish children make their way into the main square, cackling and shoving each other along the way. ‘What are those little imps doing here?’

“Viv!”, he called with a nervous edge to his voice, “It’s Boogie’s Brats!”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, mayor! I asked ‘em here!”, Vivica assured, before she turned to the troublesome trio, “Ah, just the trick-or-treaters I needed to see! I’ve got a real special job for you three!”, she grinned, peaking the children’s interest.

“A special job? Just for us?”, the miscreants that were Chris, Manon and Prince Kiran smiled gleefully, skittering over to the Pumpkin Queen.

“Indeed. This task requires craft, cunning, mischief! I couldn’t think of three better people for the job!”, Vivica enthused, kneeling down before the gang of costumed youngsters. The three cackled with wicked delight.

“And we thought you didn’t like us, Viv!”, Manon giggled madly, throwing her arms around the shoulders of her two cohorts.

Vivica’s demeanor suddenly turned deadly serious.

“Now before I tell you kids, you best understand. No One outside of this square is to know about your mission! Not a single word of it to that gamblin’, buggy-brained Ivan Oogie, y’hear? Not. A. Word.”, the skeletal lass said firmly, looking deeply at each child in turn.

“Oh, yesss.”, Manon gushed, putting in her best innocent face.

“Of course, Viv!”, Chris grinned, his sharpened canines, so much like his older brother’s, gleaming bright.

“We promise!”, Kiran giggled, a hint of poison gleaming in his eyes.

Unseen behind their backs, three sets of fingers were crossed as Vivica leaned down to explain their assignment.

Another short while later…

The trio of Trick-or-Treaters piled through the gates of Halloween Town, trekking out over the hills to their clubhouse, situated in a large dead tree in the midst of a barren forest.

“Kidnap Mr. Damocles?”, the three chorused in wicked glee as they exchanged mischievous looks.

“I wanna do it!”, Manon insisted.

“No, let me!”, Kiran crowed.

“Viv said we should work together!”, Chris reminded his two companions with a roll of his eyes, bonking them both on the head.

“Three of a kind!”, Kiran agreed.

“Birds of a feather!”, Manon cheered.

“Now and forever, wheeeee!”, the three squealed as they rode the rickety old lift up to their treehouse.

(La, la, la)

(La, la, la, la, la, la)

The three exited the lift into a dark and shabby room filled with various weapons and hunting traps, all varieties of nasty bugs crawling every which where.

Kidnap the Principal, lock him up real tight

Throw away the key and then turn off all the lights!

Darting over to their wall of cage traps, Chris plucked one out and set it, giggling madly as he did so, Kiran and Manon watching with interest.

“First, we're goin' to set some bait, inside a nasty trap and wait!”, Chris explained as he placed an old lollipop inside the rusted cage, setting it on the ground.

“When he comes a-sniffing we will, snap the trap and close the gate!”, Chris continued, the three children shrieking with laughter as a large, hapless beetle scuttled to the dirty piece of candy and was snared in the trap!

“Wait, I've got a better plan, to catch this silly, stupid man!”, Manon suddenly interjected, sporting a positively batty grin as she scooped up the cage and moved to their small, dilapidated kitchen.

“Let's pop him in a boiling pot, and when he's done we'll butter him up!”, she crowed, throwing the captured bug in a pot of boiling water and then fishing it out when it was cooked just right.

Kidnap the Principal, throw him in a box

Bury him for ninety years, then see if he talks

The three kids pranced over to a chute with sharp metal teeth, beaming maniacally as the dropped the caged bug down it.

“Then Mr. Ivan, the Boogie man!”, Manon cackled, fidgeting as she heard the sounds of skittering bugs and rustling fabric down the rusted steel passage.

“Can take the whole thing over then!”, the trio chorused, excited to see what their boss would do with the pudgy, prissy principal!

He'll be so pleased, I do declare!

That he will cook him rare, whee!

The rickety cage rattled down an old pipe, eventually coming to land in a room lit by blinking casino lights. The terrified creature within trembled as a large and ominous shadow loomed over it…

“I say that we take a cannon, aim it at his door and then-“, Manon suggested eagerly, picking up Kiran and placing him in their cobbled-together catapult, the Poison Prince giggling all the way.

“Knock three times and when he answers…Damocles will be no more!”, the raven-haired boy finished, his silver eyes gleaming with excitement as Manon nodded giddily.

“You're both so stupid, think now! If we blow him up to smithereens, we may lose some pieces!”, Chris snapped, smacking his coworkers upside the heads once more before placing his hands on his hips.

“And then Viv will beat us black and green!”, the other two miscreants agreed, shuddering at the thought of the Pumpkin Queen’s anger. When Kiran attempted to get down, he fell headfirst into an old ash pot, making Manon and Chris smack their foreheads in exasperation.

Kidnap the Principal, tie him in a bag

Throw him in the ocean, then, see if he is sad!

Chris and Manon fished their companion out of the pot, holding upside down by his feet. Kiran’s face was covered in ash as he coughed to clear his lungs. The other two children carried him over and tossed him into the large, haunted bathtub they used as transportation.

“Because Mr. Ivan Oogie is the meanest guy around!”, Chris reminded his pals in a jittery tone, shivering as he thought of the ways of the young Boogie.

“If I were on his boogie list…”, Manon squeaked, shuddering and rubbing her arms at the thought as the old cage came back up the chute, now empty.

“I'd get out of town~!”, Kiran completed the thought as he popped his head over the rim of the bathtub, his silky hair now soaked.

“He'll be so pleased by our success!”, the Poison Prince went on to say, gripping the edges of the tub as he shook with glee.

“That he'll reward us too, I bet!”, Chris enthused, bouncing with anticipation as he hit the button that caused the tubs legs to sprout, bringing it with them as they went to gather supplies.

“Perhaps he'll make his special brew!”, Manon suggested, wringing her hands in an antsy stupor, as they looked around their inventory room.

“Of snake and spider stew (mmm)!”, the three finished together. Say what you would about the boogieman, he knew how to cook!

“We're his little henchkids and we take our job with pride! We do our best to please him and stay on his good side!”, the three kids mused to themselves, looking back on all the fine work they had done for the spookster, until Kiran splashed Manon, which led to another bout of bickering and an eye roll from Chris.

“I wish my cohorts weren't so dumb…”, Chris bemoaned, resting his head on their worktable with a heavy sigh.

“I'm not the dumb one!”, Kiran cried, his pale face turning red with anger.

“You're no fun!”, Manon pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“SHUT UP!”, Chris shouted, glaring at the two for interrupting his complaints.

“MAKE ME!”, Manon shrieked, tossing a broken toy at Chris’ forehead.

“I've got something, listen now! This one is real good, you'll see!”, Chris announced to his cohorts, catching their interest as he began to gather supplies.

“We'll send a present to his door! Upon there'll be a note to read!”, Chris continued, bringing a large box over to the other two children, opening it and freeing the scorpions inside.

“Now, in the box we'll wait and hide, until his curiosity, entices him to look inside!”, Chris said giddily as he shut the box and tossed it, along with some other supplies into the tub with Kiran.

“And then we'll have him, one, two, three!”, the three cheered, as Chris and Manon jumped into the walking bathtub, the trio riding it back down the lift and out into the woods!

Kidnap the Principal, beat him with a stick

Lock him up for ninety years, see what makes him tick!

They could hardly wait to see what torment they could wreak on the pompous principal before delivering him as promised.

Kidnap the Principal, chop him into bits

Mr. Ivan Oogie is sure to get his kicks

Their master would surely be proud of them! Just wait until he saw the gift they would bring him this time!

Kidnap the Principal, see what we will see

Lock him in a cage, and then throw away the key!

Ah, ha, ha (he, he, he)

The three cackled maniacally as they rode off into the distance, away from Halloween Town.

Meanwhile….

Down below the mischievous trio’s treehouse, a certain force of nightmares was grinning with malevolent glee.

“So Mr. D’s gonna be droppin’ in to see our fine little town, huh?”, Mr. Ivan Oogie cackled as he rolled his favorite set of dice. Snake Eyes, of course, which always meant some fantastic trouble would be brewing!

“What are you going to do, buggyboo?”, asked a honeylike voice, prompting the young boogieman to give a start and turn and see his beloved scallop grinning at him through the viewing portal she had likely summoned at some point without his noticing. He gave a great laugh at how she’d yet again managed to spook him. Hell’s Bells, did he love that girl!

“I’m gon’ do the best I can, Pun’kin!”, he answered her with a positively evil smile, which she returned as the two wicked sweethearts descended into a fit of terrifyingly villainous laughter.

Their dear ol’ principal was in for a restless night…

And there it was folks! Keep an eye out for the little sequel we’ve got planned! Love and hugs!

#miraculous ladybug #class of villainy #ml au #disney au #Kiran anciel #manon chamack #chris lahiffe #lock shock and barrel #Vivica #penny rolling #jack skellington #sally #the nightmare before christmas #ivan bruel #oogie boogie #mylene haprele #principal Damocles #songfic #kidnap the sandy claws

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bigskydreaming · 2 years ago

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So I’ve been going through a lot of TW files for my patreon stuff (still wading through those and working my way down the list to the Dick Grayson stuff, Batfam followers) and while I don’t know when I’ll get back to this one unless someone specifically requests I add to it there, enough people still ask me for more of Where Wild Things Are that I’m just tossing this mini-update out here. Not going on Ao3 as this is just the first part of the chapter and some dialogue for the rest, but again, I’m trying to do less of the whole ‘just let things sit pointlessly on my computer when other ppl might at least enjoy having some more of it, even if its not the whole thing yet, since its not like its not a WIP anyway.’

Anyway. Enjoy if you’re interested!

WHERE WILD THINGS ARE

CHAPTER FIVE And when a monster is lurking right outside your door and there’s nowhere left to run, ask yourself this:

Would you rather be prey? Or a bigger monster?

There’s not always an option c. ****** Freshmen were kind of adorable, Allison decided a week into the mentoring program. At least that was something. The way Liam lit up as she and her friends made their way to the freshmen down the hall was particularly endearing. She had to keep her glare from surfacing and pinning Brett against the lockers he leaned against, right beside Liam, Mason, Garrett and Violet. What had begun as a way to repay the debt she felt to Scott while still doing her duty had quickly graduated to true protective instincts for the young teenagers. A slight shudder ran through her body as she remembered the gashes across Scott’s chest and the defeat in his eyes - - none of us wanted this, but it happened and we’re stuck now - No. That would not be happening to Liam and his friends. Not on her watch. “Hello children. And how is everyone this morning?” Lydia made even her casual greetings a regal proclamation. It was with no small amount of amusement that Allison watched the freshmen war between their instinctive reaction to being labeled ‘children’ and their awe at being on first names basis with the undisputed queen of Beacon Hills High. This was all wildly against the natural order of things. Her eyes drifted in Brett’s direction to find his narrowed at her, and her good humor evaporated. Ugh. Why couldn’t she ever have nice things? “Everyone’s coming to my place after school, right? Your first archery lessons!” Allison cut in before any of the freshmen could muster a response to Lydia. Brett flinched, and a dangerous grin worked its way across her lips. She might not be the only predator interested in these kids, but she could damn well make sure her competition knew she was bringing claws of her own to the fight. “For sure!” Liam enthused. “I still can’t believe you know how to shoot a bow and arrow. And your parents are really cool with you teaching us?” “Oh yeah, no big deal,” Allison shrugged. In truth, it hadn’t been. Even if her father might have had slight reservations, Grandpa Gerard had practically salivated at the notion of her starting a How To Kill Werewolves 101 course for local teens. He was already planning how to use this to start recruiting new hunters from Allison’s handpicked group. She wasn’t about to let things get that far, but Brett didn’t need to know that. Let him worry. “I still don’t think Allison’s parents are the only ones who should have been informed of this little extracurricular,” Danny said. “Isn’t this the kind of thing that should require signed consent forms from everyone’s parents?” “Oh, live a little Danny,” Allison said. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” “No, but the sharp pointy sticks might hurt their kids, and then there are these things called lawsuits…” “Don’t be such a Danny Downer,” Stiles said. He clapped their friend on the back, but his eyes were on her. “I’m sure Allison knows exactly what she’s doing.” She smirked back.

“I can’t make it,” Brett spoke up at last, sparking cries of complaint from his ‘friends.’ “What the hell man, I thought we were all gonna do this?” As much as Allison hated to admit it, she wasn’t sure she did know what she was doing though. She had her work cut out for her in trying to drive a wedge between Liam and Brett. The younger boy had latched onto the sophomore as a confidant before they’d gotten their mentoring program up and running, and Brett’s claws were already in deep. Liam idolized the kid, and it didn’t help that whatever she might know about the pack’s true nature, to everyone else they were simply the cool, mysterious bad-asses that everyone secretly wanted to know more about.

“Got stuff to deal with at home,” was all the taller boy said, deliberately vague. She considered that. Was he just trying to get out of going to a hunter’s house - not that she’d ever expected he’d show, really - or was that code for the pack would be up to something later? “Family stuff?” Allison asked casually. “More like chores at the group home I live at. My family’s dead,” Brett retorted. She wondered if anyone else picked up on the bitter menace underscoring his calm tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “How could you? It’s not like peoples’ families being murdered by burning their houses down around them is an everyday thing. Who would ever think that was a thing that happened as often as it does?” “Jesus,” Mason whispered in horror. The other freshmen looked as sick as she felt suddenly, and she felt her own friends shuffle uncomfortably behind her. That hadn’t come up in her research at all, but she didn’t doubt for a second that the werewolf was being truthful. The naked pain in his eyes was entirely too human for that. “I didn’t know,” Allison repeated again. It wasn’t an excuse, it was just all she had. He snorted. “Whatever. I’ve gotta go. Be careful with them, yeah?” She bit her lip and nodded, wondering how much he really knew about what she was doing. Had Scott clued in any of his pack about her plans? He’d seemed protective of Brett, and the younger boy seemed to be one of the ones who followed his lead over Cora’s, but who knew how pack politics really worked…god, could she just have five complete moments to feel on top of things and not totally in over her head? “Damn,” Violet said once Brett had disappeared around a corner in the hall. “I mean, I knew he was an orphan too, but I didn’t know he had…shit.” “Well, he probably doesn’t advertise because he doesn’t want people gossiping about it,” Allison said. Jackson and Danny nodded in agreement, the freshmen looking thoughtful, but Lydia and Stiles were both just watching her, the same as they’d been through she and Brett’s entire little tété-a-tété. Feeling an abrupt need to be elsewhere, she chose the better part of valor and fled. “Look, I gotta get going too, but you all have directions, right? See you after school!” Weak, Allison. She circled the school, doing a lap across the quad and around the outer edges of the buildings to calm herself. Almost predictably at this point, her efforts were thwarted by the appearance of one Scott McCall sitting cross-legged on the grass behind the Liberal Arts building. She pulled up short for half a second at the sight of him, wavering slightly in her choice of routes at the abrupt memory of not the smile she’d been obsessing - not obsessing, mulling - over for the past week, but rather the heated nature of their actual last encounter. *******

*Later end part of the chapter, as Allison asks Lydia for a ride home, who responds by mentioning that she thought Allison drove to school that morning. Ties into something that happened between these parts*

Allison: “I must not have, else why would I need a ride?” Lydia: ”You’re in a mood. I’d ask what’s actually got you in a snit but I have a sense we’re not there yet, and I wouldn’t want to add to your stress by making you lie to me. Seeing as how we’re obviously already best friends who are way past the lying and using each other stage.”

Allison: “I’m so sorry - “

Lydia: “Oh stop apologizing, I was just pricking to see if you bleed, it wasn’t actually an invitation to start gushing. I decided I was over it like five full seconds after it happened.”

Allison: “I’m really off the hook that easy?”

Lydia: “Well, its a matter of priorities. Most things are with me. I briefly weighed the pros and cons of continuing with this friendship versus never talking to you again, and the only reason I let you 'manipulate me’ into setting all this up in pursuit of whatever agenda you actually have in the first place, was I have the strangest feeling you’re doing it for good reasons. As inexplicably ephemeral a conclusion as that is. God, next thing you know I’m going to be talking about vibes and shopping at New Age emporiums. Ugh. Regardless. In addition to of all of the above, there’s the little matter of you clearly being enmeshed in something beyond normal ken, and likely the only way I’ll ever know what that is lies in our continued friendship. And I want to know.”

Allison: “Why?”

Lydia, primly as she shrugs and fixes her makeup in the mirror: “I like to know things.”

Allison: “Maybe you’re better off not knowing some things.”

Lydia: “Oh I’m sure, but that’s one of those pesky little realizations that only ever comes with hindsight unfortunately. Cryptic pronouncements sadly have a very poor track record offsetting the pursuits of curiosity once its been unleashed.”

Allison: “You could always just trust me.”

Lydia: “Mmm. Quoth the admitted liar.”

Lydia: “So you see, I can’t be persuaded that knowing what you don’t want me to know is a bad idea without a frame of reference I can’t have without knowing what you know. Bit of a quandary there.”

Allison: “You might want to be careful with words like that. Wouldn’t want it getting out that you know them. Could ruin your carefully cultivated reputation.”

Lydia: “Oh, I’m sure my secret’s safe along with the rest locked up nice and tight in Fort Allison. Now if you’re going to insist on changing the subject please do pick an actual subject to change to. Shoddy deflection is so beneath us.”

Allison: “There’s really nothing I can say to convince you to not sniff around more here, huh?”

Lydia: “Fraid not, unless you want to unpack that frame of reference for me yourself.”

Allison: “Yeah, sorry. I’m going to have to pass on that.”

Lydia: “Not even if I appeal to your pragmatic side? Look at it this way, telling me yourself and getting this over with is simply the most efficient path forward. After all, I will find out eventually, one way or another. Or hadn’t you heard? I always get my way.”

Allison: “Maybe, but it won’t be because of me.”

Lydia: “Challenge accepted.”

Allison: "Not really not where I was going with that.”

Lydia: “Oh sweetie, the sooner you accept you’re not in control here, the smoother the rest of our friendship will go.”

Allison: “You’re a piece of work.”

Lydia: “Oh, you damn me with faint praise. I’m nothing short of a masterpiece.”

#teen wolf fic list #kalen writes fanfic sometimes #where wild things are

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kitkatwinchester · 2 years ago

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Everyone's support of each other... <3

Absolutely love the Scott, Stiles, Kira dynamic. I adore the fact that all three of them are on the lacrosse team together and can work together to keep Liam and each other safe.

That said, I feel really bad that Kira was benched, and I feel like that was kind of unfair of Coach. If it were a real game setting, he would've been really happy about that goal. It also makes me wonder, would he have been upset about said goal if Scott or Stiles (or even Liam) had made the shot instead (though, as a very quick aside, I do appreciate Stiles's banter with the dude on the other team and how well it distracted him so he could pass to Kira lol)? Don't start getting all anti-Kira on me here, Coach. You wanted her on the team....

Anyways I really love those three together, and her excitement was adorable, and Scott was so proud of her, and I hope Coach gives her another chance, because she totally deserves it.

I also absolutely love Noah and his support of Lydia (also love that Malia is still attached at her hip...so sweet <3). The fact that he called her right away, and is going against all sorts of laws and such to make sure that she can get what she needs, and then the way she was just so close to breaking down and he just pulled her up and in and tried to calm her down I just...

I also love the fact that he's starting to bring Parrish into the fold more and more. Like, Parrish is seriously such a good guy, and he clearly keeps such an open mind, and I kind of hope we get to actually tell him all about the supernatural soon, because I really feel like he'd be another good resource for us to have.

I love Scott and Stiles immediately rushing to help Liam up, and I love Scott fixing Liam's arm, and I love Scott's absolutely utter concern that Liam could've gotten cut, and I love that Liam did not get cut and is now more or less fine.

HOWEVER...

I don't think Garrett missed.

He does not look the LEAST bit concerned, and Brett sounds like he's a LOT more hurt and in a LOT more pain than he should be if he's the one that ran into Liam.

How much do you wanna bet that Brett is ALSO a werewolf, and that Brett is the one they were after the whole time?

I mean...

Okay, I do strongly believe, as much as I hate to admit it, that Liam is probably on the list, and he's probably gonna be a target pretty freaking soon, but...I don't think he was the target TONIGHT.

I think Garrett (and Violet) did EXACTLY what they were planning to do.

I wish Scott and Stiles weren't so focused on Liam and could see that.

But also, I don't blame them.

But I guarantee you I'm right.

And I hate that.

I hope our boys figure it out ASAP so that we can hopefully save him (can we even save him?? Violet said very rare and very powerful or something like that...god I hope we can save him. Just because he was a jerk to Liam doesn't mean he deserves to die...).

ANYWAYS.

Scilera (that's my creation of the trio that is Scott, Stiles, and Kira lol) gif because I love them. <3

(Seriously I can't believe no one else has come up with that! It rolls off the tongue so smoothly! XD <3)

Update: I F*CKING CALLED IT!! BRETT'S NAME IS ON THE LIST!! Also WAY TO GO MALIA! I am so digging this Malydia team-up on sooo many levels. <3 <3

Update Part 2: I KNEW PARRISH WAS SOMETHING!! I F*CKING CALLED THAT TOO!!! Bro is so nice and so amazing, but he was also SOOO hiding something and WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT HE IS!!! HIS NAME IS ON THE LIST!!! Also that theory was only further confirmed when he told the Sheriff that something drew him to Beacon Hills like... That said, despite his apparent supernatural-ness, I hope he's still a good person, because he really has been so nice and such a great resource and I hope that's not an act, because I love him (also also, he and Lydia really DO have chemistry, sorry not sorry.)

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jabbage · 2 years ago

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#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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gccdstories · 5 months ago

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//haha for Xaden! Or Emelin!!//

Violet stepped backward, horror rolling off her.

"You can hear my thoughts?"

"It's just the surface -"

"Can you influence them like Catriona can?"

"No! I just can hear -"

"Why didn't you tell me this before Xaden? How can I trust you if you never tell me anything?"

Xaden gestured between them, glaring at her.

"This. This is why. I've never told anyone Violet. I'm telling you, this is me trusting you. I -"

Violet shook her head.

"I - I don't think I can."

------

Xaden thought it best he come by himself back to the manor. He needed time to cool off.

He looked up to the steps, seeing Catriona laughing with his cousins. Emelin and Estrella admiring the diamond ring on her finger.

Right, her and Bragaen were engaged.

She looked to him, and it hit him. So hard he nearly felt his knees buckled.

Catriona had never judged him, sure she'd wanted his power and prestige.

But she'd never been anyone else.

She'd never questioned him.

It had been easy with her.

He'd assumed because it was just lust, but what if it was more?

What if his father was right?

"You'll know when it's all as easy as breathing."

------

"Isn't it pretty? Look Emmie it sparkles like little rainbows in the light!"

Catriona hailed from the witch kingdoms, they'd be hers one day. She'd take over from her mother Melinoe one day. Her brothers had been protective and vetted Bragaen when he'd made his intentions known.

But she hadn't had any doubts, they'd known each other a long time. Bragaen would be good to her, she'd be happy with him.

Sure it wasn't the wild romance she'd heard her parents had been. But maybe that was okay, maybe this was enough.

He'd be a good king, a good leader for their people.

He needed time. She needed time. That's what he told himself, what he was up here on the hill trying his absolute best to convince himself of. It was just a matter of time.

She'd known that power to be dangerous of all of her life. That was all it was. Just a matter of coming to terms with it, understanding it. Then it would all go back to how it was, they would go back to the same page, everything would work out just fine.

Maybe he'd even believe it one day, too.

But Xaden couldn't get those last words out of his head, like they kept going on repeat. I don't think I can...

He'd seen the horror on her face, felt the horror as it flooded through her. Why was he trying to tell himself all it would take was time when that emotion had been so utterly overwhelming earlier?

I don't think I can trust you.

@siderealxmelody

#asks ;; leave a message for the muses #siderealxmelody #muse ;; xaden

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bunny584 · 7 months ago

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JUJUTSU KAISEN'S ANATOMY

A/N: God I LOVE when you guys let me break the 4th wall. Most of you guys already know my specialty but in my junior years of residency I had to rotate on different services as part of training. Everyone loves a well rounded doctor.

Anon, you’re insane for this ask. I could never write a full medical fan fic because it’s TOO close to home and I already spend 100 hours/week at the hospital I need to escape it somehow.

Nevertheless, I’m SO happy to indulge you, baby. Let’s get into it. I’ll break this up into two parts. The Attendings, then The Residents.

ATTENDINGS ON CALL

Dr. Satoru Gojo:

Specialty: TRAUMA SURGERY

Most people incorrectly assume trauma surgeons to be stern and intense. I would argue that they are the opposite. They are so deeply unserious. My co-residents and I legit played pranks on our attendings 24/7 during the rotation - right up this blue-eyed psychopath’s alley. When push comes to shove, they get the job fucking done. The most calm under pressure. A patient comes in coding and requires a thoracotomy and its your first one. You have less than 5 minutes to access the heart and massage — Satoru would stand behind you. Steadying your hand.

“Good. More pressure on the incision. Spread the fascia. Good. Don’t puncture the lung, they need that right?”

And the second you get to the heart he gives you a tiny nod of approval. Takes over at the head of the bed. You’re in for a LONG OR night with Dr. G, hope you had dinner.

Dr. Suguru Geto:

Specialty: PLASTIC & RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY

Alright chat, hear me out. I know what you are about to say. I am biased because it’s my specialty and the boy is fucking pretty. But contrary to popular belief aesthetic surgery is 10% of our field. We do burn, hand, bony and soft tissue craniofacial (cleft lip, palate, etc), cancer reconstruction, trauma reconstruction, etc. Suguru is meticulous. He can sew up a severed 4 mm peripheral nerve with his eyes closed. He demands perfection in EVERY case. In the OR he watches your hands like a hawk.

“Don’t skive the blade or the dermis will be uneven.” “Approximate, don’t strangulate.” “Cut that stitch out and do it perfectly the next time.”

And when it’s good. I mean fucking flawless. He looks at you over his mask with those violet eyes. ONLY smiling with his eyes.

“Good job. Make it perfect next time.” — This is the highest form of praise you will ever receive from a plastic surgeon. We are chronically unimpressed. Take it and RUN.

Dr. Kento Nanami:

Specialty: TRANSPLANT SURGERY

Phew this one is going to make me emotional. Nanami has a very special and private ceremony he does to honor those that have given life to others with their bodies. He sits on the top of a hill by the airport. For each plane that takes off, he names a donor patient, thanks them, and says his goodbye. Your first kidney transplant (personal experience) you cry like a little baby when they pink up and the patient starts making urine at the end of the case.

Nanami tilts his head and chuckles. “Congratulations, doctor. You just made your patient urinate. How does it feel?”

For a patient who has been on Hemodialysis for a decade. Chained to machines 3x/week. Can’t remember the last time they’ve independently gone to the bathroom? It feels fucking amazing. You’d cry too.

Dr. Ryomen Sukuna

Specialty: ORTHOPEDIC SURGERY

Who here is shocked? Raise your hand? Because I don’t know WHAT contract the orthopods have with the Gods but every single one of them is 6’5, works out 3 times/day and drinks muscle milk in between cases. The thing about Ryo is that he doesn’t give a single FUCK if the patient is 99 years old on blood thinners, 10L of O2 at home because of COPD — he WILL take them to the OR and he WILL smash that hip to smithereens because a hip replacement is a hip replacement okay?

I kid you not, my attending and I came into the OR to finish reconstruction on an ortho case. I’m 5’3, my attending is 5’0. The orthopods were 6’5 and 6’6 the patient table was basically touching the ceiling. When we scrubbed in they had the audacity to say:

“Can we lower the table to plastics height?”

RUDE.

Dr. Shoko Ieiri

Specialty: NEUROSURGERY

This one is obvious. Neurosurgeons are brilliant. Naturally some of the most gifted humans I have ever met. Special grade. And given the unfortunate outcomes a lot of their patients face, they all have a darkness about them. Both charming and intimidating. Twisted humor to cope with devastating loss after loss. I don’t have to explain much here. After a 15 hour Chordoma case, Shoko walks outside the HOSPITAL to smoke a CIGAR.

Literally everyone is like???? Aren’t you a literal doctor??? Our moody brunette just takes a long drag and says:

“Do me a favor. If I ever need a ventilator to breathe for more than 48 hours, pull the plug and smother me with a pillow.”

(Shoko I’m here anytime if you want someone to smother—what?! Who?)

Dr. Utahime Iori

Specialty: ANESTHESIA

The Gas Gang. EVERYONE loves the anesthesiologists. Fiercely intelligent. Insane handle on physiology. The sleeper pick. They are the smartest person in the room. Surgeons are just fancy plumbers. Anesthesiologists actually keep the patient alive. And the thing about our Gas Gods, is that they WILL take a coffee break, ok? All that standing for 10 hours shit is NOT for them.

Part II Here: Meet your first year residency class. Grunts. Bottom of the surgical food chain. Hope they slept after med school graduation because the first shift lasts 36 hours. And you work every second night until you drop.

Eat when you can. Sleep when you can. And DON'T fuck with the pancreas (and for the love of GOD don't fuck the attendings)

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redrorums · 1 year ago

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The Elephant Man trudged.

He liked to think of this as his primary skill… to trudge. He was very good at it, able to walk for miles upon miles without even noticing. That was the true art of the trudge. Being so lost in self pity that you walk indefinitely and without purpose.

“Like an ant without a Queen, wandering off into the grass to die alone.” Snickered the cockroach perched on his right shoulder.

“Shut up.” The Elephant Man wheezed through his gas mask in his patented, rasping monotone. Every word out his mouth was palpable pain and you were forced to feel that pain just listening to him. Many a villain, and hero, had shivered whilst they recounted their personal dealings with this seemingly cruel and unfeeling vigilante. The cockroaches didn’t seem to care how inhuman he sounded. So there was that.

Distracted from his trudging, he glanced up the hill and to the left, through a gap in the tree line at The Facility.

The Supervillain Rehabilitation Facility…what a joke, He grimaced. He continued to trudge.

“You can’t really call it a skill when you’re cheating.” Commented the roach on his left shoulder nonchalantly.

“Shut up.”

Almost to the top of the hill.

“What are you doing?” Came the effeminate voice of someone who liked to overuse the vocal amp in their mask.

He glanced back and up at the girl poised on a tree branch in the shadows above him, annoyed that he had not noticed the approach of her stealth craft. She dropped straight down, but seemed to slow at the last second, hitting the leaf-strewn ground with little to no impact.

“Magnetic antigrav tech. Fancy stuff.” The words released with a guttural cough, causing Pixie to visibly wince. “Good ole fashioned grappling gun not cuttin it anymore?” He groused as he rudely turned and walked away.

“Can’t help but notice yur headed up to the Facility, old-timer”, she said with fake cheer as she easily matched his pace, ignoring his commentary outright. Her gaudy, sparkling outfit an almost comical contrast to what looked to be a U.S. WWI Uniform that had been through hell. No one had ever seen him in a different outfit. No one had ever seen his face. He was just a gas mask. It looked, and smelled, like he hadn’t took it off for the last century. By contrast, the sheen of her pristine velvet green and violet costume looked like it killed germs on contact.

The awkward silence dragged a bit as they trudged upward.

“Ya know, you could hitch a ride in the ole pixie-mobile instead of just…walking there.” She finally said with feigned exasperation.

“I like walking.” Came the predictable grunt.

More silence except for the crunching of crisp, dead leaves under foot.

“Waaaait. Don’t you have a plane or a drone or something? To get around faster?” She almost chuckled, feigning ignorance.

“The FBI raided my base and confiscated all my gear.” He said, turning the perfect, glass circles of his mask to face her. They glowed unnaturally in the moonlight. “A detail a detective as skilled as yourself already knows.”

“They’re keeping it hush in the public eye, but the Bureau of Containment is up in arms.” She said with more fake cheer, the jovial tone making a paradox out of the severity of her statement. “Those creepy F.E.D. Bots are crawling all over New York, looking for you.”

“Your point.” He rasped, continuing his march ever upward.

She stepped into his path, all comedy drained from her face in an instant. “You know what’s going down tonight.” Her tone, mannerisms and posture all completely different. Hazel eyes stared at him, cold and calculating. In the bright moonlight, she looked every bit the highly trained killer that she was. He had little doubt she could break him in half in an instant if she wanted. The Mentor really did a number on her. “Only a few years ago a child, now a monster. Remind you of anyone?” The cockroaches whispered.

She didn’t react. She couldn’t hear them.

“I need to know you won’t interfere.” She said menacingly. Suddenly her face lit up with a grin as she jarringly swapped to her Pixie alter ego “at least, not TOOOO much!” She said with a “friendly” pat on the arm, whirling about and continuing her jaunty march.

Someone’s always plotting something. He thought, with loathing. I’ll have to make sure those two aren’t involved. “But you know they are, and they’ll want to play with you.” The cockroaches deafened him with their laughter.

He didn’t bother with the shut up this time. Too tired. Tonight was going to be hell.

And so he trudged ever onward.

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