#dear fellow soldier au

[chiangyorange]

dear fellow soldier, i feel as though i betrayed you (because i have betrayed myself)

>

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: major!drew starkey x nurse!reader

summary: it’s 1944, and the world is engulfed in the turmoil of wwii. on a remote air force base, major drew starkey prepares for a perilous mission, while you, a shy and introverted young nurse, watches from afar, your heart caught between admiration and fear. you has never been one to express your feelings openly, but as drew faces an uncertain future in the skies, you gathers the courage to write your first letter to a man—a heartfelt confession of love. before he departs, you quietly hands him the letter, never knowing how it will change you both.

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains emotional themes set during ww2, themes of war and separation, mild language and teasing from fellow soldiers.

au: like, reblog, comment and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @stuffyownswrld @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy

part ii - part iii - …

You, as a nurse stationed at the airbase, you were accustomed to keeping your head down, doing your work with precision and care, never drawing attention to yourself. You’d been stationed here for months, yet it still felt like you didn’t belong in the whirl of action around you.

But there was one person whose presence never failed to draw your gaze, no matter how much you tried to remain invisible.

Major Drew Starkey.

To everyone else, he was a leader—a seasoned officer whose calm authority and unwavering composure made him stand out among the others. He was the kind of man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet always found a way to offer a smile to those who needed it. His tall frame, sharp features, and focused blue eyes made him a figure of admiration and respect, and you were no exception.

But to you, he was more than just a Major in the Air Force.

He was Major Drew—the man whose voice sent a flutter through your chest whenever he spoke, even if it was just to ask about a patient’s condition. The man whose steady hands and quiet courage filled you with a sense of safety in a world torn apart by war. For months, you had admired him from a distance, your heart skipping a beat every time he passed by. You would catch glimpses of him during routine check-ups or briefings, his brow furrowed in concentration, his posture always strong and sure. You never allowed yourself to imagine more than a fleeting glance or polite exchange; he was an officer, after all, and you were just a nurse.

But as time went by, as each mission became more perilous and the losses more profound, something began to shift within you. The thought of him flying off into the unknown without knowing how much he meant to you gnawed at your heart. Every time he left on a mission, the knot in your stomach tightened, fearing he might not return.

And then, one evening, as the sun dipped low the base was sinking in soft amber light, you made a decision. It was impulsive and terrifying, but the fear of regret outweighed your shyness. You had to let him know, even if only once, even if he never read the words.

You decided to write him a letter.

Sitting in your small quarters, surrounded by the muffled sounds of soldiers laughing and planes preparing for takeoff, you hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. How do you write to a man like Major Drew? What words could possibly capture the depth of what you felt, the quiet admiration that had grown into something so much more?

But you had to try. You had to be brave, even if just for one fleeting moment.

Dear Major Drew Starkey, I do not know where to begin, nor how to put into words what my heart has long wanted to say. Perhaps it is foolish of me to write to you like this, but the uncertainty of tomorrow compels me to be braver than I’ve ever been before. I know you are a man of duty, a man of courage, and that your mind is always focused on the task at hand. But I wonder if, in the quiet hours when you are alone, your thoughts drift as mine do—to those you hold dear, to the things that make this war worth fighting. I think of you often, more than I should. More than I’ve ever thought of anyone. It’s strange to admit it, even to myself, but in the stillness of the night, when the world around us is consumed by chaos, it is your face I see. Your voice I hear. It is your strength that makes me feel safe, even when everything else is falling apart. I have never written a letter like this before, and I confess I am terrified of how you will receive it. But I cannot go another day without letting you know how deeply I care for you, how much I admire the man you are—not just the officer, but the man who carries so much on his shoulders without complaint. I will not ask anything of you. I do not expect you to respond. All I ask is that you take these words with you, wherever you go, and know that someone here thinks of you every day. That someone prays for your safe return, not because it is your duty to return, but because you are cared for—because I care for you. If fate allows, I hope that one day we may speak of these things in person. But until then, please know that my thoughts are with you always. Yours, in heart and in hope, Y/N”

You read and reread the letter until the words blurred before your eyes, but the feeling behind them remained steady. With trembling hands, you folded the letter neatly and slipped it into a plain envelope. You stared at it for what felt like hours, your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst. Could you really give this to him? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he laughed at you, or worse—what if he never even opened it?

But there was no turning back now. You had written the letter, and you had to deliver it.

The opportunity came sooner than you expected. The next morning, just before dawn, the base was a flurry of activity. Major Drew was preparing for another mission—this one longer and more dangerous than the others. The soldiers were gearing up, checking their equipment, and sharing quiet conversations before the inevitable parting. You watched from the infirmary window, your heart heavy with the weight of the letter tucked inside your apron pocket.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move. As you made your way toward the runway, the early morning light casting long shadows over the ground, you spotted him. He stood by his plane, speaking to a group of officers, his back to you.

You almost turned around.

But then, as if sensing your presence, Major Drew glanced over his shoulder and saw you. His expression softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart stutter. Without thinking, you hurried toward him, clutching the letter so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Major Starkey,” you called out, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. His gaze shifted to you fully, and he stepped away from the group, his tall figure moving toward you with a calm, confident stride.

“Y/N,” he greeted, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “What brings you out here? Everything alright?”

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you fumbled for the words. “I—I just wanted to give you this,” you stammered, thrusting the envelope toward him before you could lose your nerve.

He glanced down at the envelope, then back at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though there was no pressure in his voice, no demand—only a gentle interest.

“It’s just…” Your voice faltered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s something I wanted you to have before you leave.”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around you. The sounds of the base faded, the distant voices of soldiers and the rumble of engines becoming nothing more than background noise. It was just the two of you, standing there in the early morning light, the air thick with unspoken words.

Major Drew took the envelope from your trembling hands, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through your body. He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read the meaning behind your sudden act of courage.

“I’ll read it when I get back,” he promised, his voice low and steady, filled with an understanding that made your heart ache. He smiled at you, that rare, gentle smile that always made the world feel just a little bit brighter. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. And then, before you could embarrass yourself further, you turned and hurried away, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you had just done settled over you.

Hours later, the base had fallen into an uneasy quiet. The planes were gone, the soldiers off on their mission, and you were left in the stillness of the infirmary, going through the motions of your duties while your mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

Would he read the letter? Would he think you were foolish for writing it? Would he even come back?

Night fell, and with it came the familiar sounds of planes returning to base. You didn’t rush to the runway this time, too afraid of what you might or might not see. Instead, you stayed in the infirmary, tending to your work, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Meanwhile, in the soldiers’ quarters, Major Drew sat among his fellow officers, exhausted but relieved to have returned safely. The men around him joked and teased, trying to shake off the tension of the mission with laughter and camaraderie. But Drew’s mind wasn’t with them.

He reached into his jacket pocket, feeling the soft edges of the envelope you had given him. His comrades noticed the movement and, ever the opportunists, one of them nudged him with a sly grin.

“Hey, Starkey,” one of the soldiers teased. “What’s that you’ve got there? A love letter from a secret admirer?”

The others joined in, their voices filled with playful banter.

“Don’t keep it to yourself, Major! Let’s hear what your girl’s got to say!”

Drew rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not for you lot,” he muttered, standing up and stepping away from the group. He could still hear their laughter behind him, but it was distant now, fading into the background as he found a quiet corner and opened the letter.

As he unfolded the paper, the world seemed to slow, your delicate handwriting coming into view. He read your words carefully, the weight of your confession settling over him like a warm blanket. The teasing from his comrades faded into nothing, replaced by the quiet vulnerability of your letter.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, the letter clutched in his hands, a strange mix of emotions washing over him. He hadn’t expected this—not from you, not from someone so quiet and reserved. But as he read and reread your words, something stirred in him, something deep and unspoken that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

When he finally folded the letter and tucked it safely back into his jacket, his heart felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had lifted just slightly. The war still raged on, the uncertainty of tomorrow still loomed, but in that moment, your words gave him something he hadn’t realized he needed.

Hope.

He smiled to himself, standing up and returning to his comrades, their teasing starting up again the moment he rejoined them. “So, Starkey,” one of them called out, grinning from ear to ear. “Your mystery girl leave you love-struck?”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice low, as if sharing a secret only he knew. Because that’s what it was—your letter was a secret, a treasure he would carry with him wherever the war took him next.

No matter what Drew knew one thing for certain: he would come back.

For you.

For the promise of something more.

[mariokartinthisbitch]

Hobie’s Moving Castle

Howls Moving Castle AU! Hobie Brown x F!Reader

1.2k Words

Tags: Strangers to more?, brief monster mention, reader is in a situation for a minute, but nothing happens

Please do not copy my work, if found you will be reported.

A/N: This is my first proper upload. Hobie Brown 🤝🏾 Howl Jenkins Pendragon. Please leave any feedback, it is appreciated! (Still considering making this a series) if you enjoy this, please reblog and like if you enjoy!

Parade music blared as you sewed tiny beads into intricate patterns for the Countess’s dress for the kingdom’s next ball. Your coworkers giggled and gossiped to one another as they collected their bags, leaving messes of fabrics, beads, and bandages on their workstations for their lunch break.

“[Name]!” a voice called out, causing you to turn around and face your boss. " It's time for lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, thank you, Ma’am, but I shouldn’t.” You declined politely, “I’m near done with Countess Ludwig’s dress, and once I’m finished, I’m done for the week.”

“Right, you are. Maybe next time, dear.” She said kindly, giving you a wave until your coworkers ran to the window.

“Oh my goddess! It can’t be!” One piped up.

“It has to be! It’s Hobie’s Ship!” Said another.

You popped up in surprise, running to the window in your workstation to see a sizeable, opulent ship with structures piled atop it and steam puffing out of it. Gaudy and a sight many may detest, it was creatively his own. Perfect for someone on the run, but attention-grabbing to tease the King. No one knew what the elusive wizard looked like or even if he was a shapeshifter to make it easier for him to steal women’s hearts and make them disappear from the public eye.

“What is he doing so close to the kingdom? Is he trying to get arrested?!” A third chimed in. “Seems the mist has covered it…”

“Ladies! Enough with the gossip.” Your boss called, despite curiously peering out the window. “But…let’s be safe and stick together as we lunch.”

As they filed out one by one, you caught the whispers the girls told to one another. Only one caught your attention as you stood in the doorway.

“Did you hear about Lady Mosley?” One whispered. “They say he ate her heart right up. That’s why no one’s seen her.”

You were never one to take gossip at face value, but the thought of losing your heart made a sweat drop down your spine.

Once alone, you tried to focus on your work to finish the countess’s dress, but your mind still wandered. Losing your heart…Would you die? Would you lose all feelings and emotions? Would you feel lighter having not to care?

It was clear that no work would be done while you were in this state of mind. You sighed, taking off your apron and grabbing your bag. You could at least take the time to see an old friend, right?

Flipping the sign to ‘Out To Lunch,’ you made your way through civilians and soldiers' droves. You still couldn’t understand how something as brutal as war could be celebrated, but maybe it wasn’t for you to understand. You turned a corner, taking a shortcut despite a feeling in your gut telling you to take the long way. You continued to walk the shadowed path until you bumped into some hard.

“You lost, pretty thing?” A soldier asked condescendingly, smirking down at you.

“She looks lost to me.” A fellow soldier said, coming up beside him. “And she’s a cute one.”

“What? I’m not lost. Please move—.” You said, trying to move past them, but they blocked your path.

“Should’ve just let me handle her. She would’ve met you later. You scare all the girls.” The first said with a playful scowl.

“I think she’s prettier when she’s scared.” His friend piped up. “What’ll it be, Honey?”

“Leave me alone!” You called out firmly as they tried to get closer.

“Ah, my precious Dove.” A deep voice came behind you, and a deep brown hand held your shoulder. You had me worried. I thought I’d never find you.”

“Who the hell are you?” One guard barked at the stranger who took the mantle to be your protector. The second guard tried to size him up. “Not so slick now, are you, Pretty Boy?”

The man beside you chuckled, the sound deep in his chest, yet smooth like a lake after it has stormed. “Oh, I’m plenty slick, but you won’t get to see anymore.”

He raised two fingers before the guards stood at command as you gasped and watched them both waddle like the toy soldiers your boss’s son played with when he came to the shop.

You turned your eyes to your hero to thank him, but you were speechless because he could’ve easily been the prettiest man you’d ever seen. He was an outsider, as anyone could recognize him from a mile away. His striking face had piercings over his eyebrows, his full lips, and his intense nose. His heterochromatic eyes enchanted and intimidated you as airs of rebellion and magic surrounded him. It was only amplified with his checkered blue and red jacket embroidered with beads that looked like shooting stars covering a loose white shirt and dark blue pants.

You gulped, opening your mouth, “Than–”

“Not yet.” He smiled, “I’ll escort you wherever you need to go.”

“Oh…Oh! Just to the bakery. I promise I’ll be okay alone,” you said, frantically waving your hands.

He laughed, “Wasn’t exactly an offer, Dove.” You tilted your head before he leaned over and whispered. “I’m in a bit of trouble with some followers. Are you up to help?”

You were surprised at this development, but he just saved you from an uncomfortable situation that could’ve gone south quickly. You nodded and adjusted your positions with your arm linked underneath his. Causally walking through the alleys, you heard strange warped sounds behind the both of you. Going to turn your head, he squeezed your arm.

“Don’t acknowledge them. They get faster when you do.” He instructed as you glued your eyes forward only to see a brick wall. You released a startled gasp as more appeared in front of the both of you. The man dashed you both into a break in the alleys as the monsters got closer and closer as the two of you approached the dead end. You shut your eyes until a hand wrapped around your waist and grabbed your hand. “Hold on tight.”

Your eyes shot open as you became weightless, floating into the sky over the parade with your savior. Everyone was becoming smaller beneath the two of you.

“Now, flyin’s just like walkin’,” he assured you, “Just straighten your legs and pretend the wind is the road.”

Obeying his instructions, you walked across the sky in shock. With a broken sigh and a smile, you flew atop your kingdom, going from rooftop to rooftop. Watching the children run in games of tag, men and women dancing, and balloons flying past you higher into the sky. He turned to you with a smirk, “You’re a natural.”

Eventually, you reached the veranda, and he gently twirled you on the ground while he remained on the railing, still holding onto your hand.

“I’ll draw them away from here, but wait for a while until you leave here.”

Still mesmerized, you smiled softly at him, “‘Kay.” was all you could manage as his hand slipped from yours.

“That’s my girl.” He smirked before jumping off the railing and floating quickly into the parade. Snapping out of your trance, you ran to the railing to find him amongst the crowd, but you couldn't see him.

Of course, he had to be a shapeshifter!

[revasserium]

Zoro and the hunter's heart (as, you know, he's a former pirate hunter... nudge nudge)

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

a hunter's heart

opla!zoro; 6,553 words; fairytale retelling!au, fem!reader, no "y/n", hunter!zoro, fluff and angst (only a bit), hurt/comfort (kinda), mentions of witches and magic and curses

summary: there are some stories that the world can't stop telling

a/n: i should know better by now than to think an opla zoro fic could be anything but too involved... ╮(￣▽￣"")╭ tagging @dira333 bc its ur request and @bby-deerling bc u were kind enough to ask <3

It is a sordid tale, to hear the villager’s old witch tell it — one near and dear as the rise of the sun in the east, the set of the moon in the west, old as time itself. Because you see, there are some stories so ancient and so integral to the world that it bears, nay demands, retelling, reliving. Stories so stanch and certain that they wear groves into the truth of the world by the tracks they trail, over and over and over again. Stories that the world can never stop telling, no matter how hard it might want to or try.

This is one such tale.

“Take her into the forest — and bring me back her heart,” commanded the Queen.

The hunter had knelt before his queen and bowed his head, his swords heavy at his side. Inside his chest, his own heart was thundering, thundering. A storm brewing within the depths of his soul. But he’d schooled his expression straight and taken his orders.

You were nothing more than a kitchen maid, but you had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard. All morning, he could hear it echoing through the cool stone halls as you went about your baking of the day’s fresh bread, your churning of the week’s soft butter. He’d lean against the wall just outside the kitchens to listen, to let the music of your voice wash over the ragged edges of his soul, to soothe his frayed ends, to mend what parts might have been broken.

Sometimes, he’d find himself wandering toward the gardens in the back of the castle grounds just to catch an echo of your voice near the wells, where he knows you’ll be in the early afternoons, collecting water for the day’s dinner service. Sometimes, he thinks he can hear it over the clink and clash of swords as he spars with his fellow knights and hunters, and he’d catch himself slowing, almost stilling, and those are the only times anyone’s ever managed to get the upper hand on him.

“C’mon doll, give us another tune.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, sing us a sea shanty! Or another one of your show tunes!”

Zoro frowns as he rounds the corner one day to find a few young knights leaning against the castle wall, towering over where you’re standing, a half-filled bucket of water clutched in your hands. He’s about to intervene when he hears the sound of splashing water, and a second later, the young knights are stumbling back, squawking with indignation as you huff, wiping your hands daintily on your apron.

“So sorry, seems like my hand’s slipped —” you drop into a rather sardonic curtsy before marching passed the stunned young men, leaving them blinking and drenched in your wake. Zoro chuckles, the sound making both of them whirl around, color rising ruddy into their cheeks. They sober immediately as they meet Zoro’s eyes.

He cocks an eyebrow, looking them over.

“S-sorry sir… we just — we were uh —”

“Just leaving,” the second knight supplies as he grabs the first by the arm and tugs him back out into the courtyard.

Zoro watches them go with a muted amusement twisting his lips before turning back to find you peering up at him with a bright, steely light in your eyes. Your shoulder is pressed to the edge of the wall, your body half-hidden behind it as if you’re uncertain of what he might do. As if you’re uncertain of him.

“Sorry about them…” Zoro dips his head, suddenly very aware of how he must seem to you — just another one of the Queen’s toy soldiers, gilded in gold, touched by the sly silver of her cool, slithering magic. Would you think he’d be like them — like those bumbling idiots who couldn’t tell a board sword from a longsword? Who thought braveness and bravado one and the same? And suddenly, the thought that you might sickens him, and he swallows hard, hurrying to explain.

“Not all of us are…” Zoro’s voice trails off as he casts about for the right word — idiots? “Like them”? Neither seems to do it all justice.

He watches as you take half a step out from behind the stone wall’s cover and drop into a slight curtsey.

“I know.” And there’s a bright sheen to the soft whisper of your voice, a certainty that Zoro can’t quite place. And he knew then as he knows now that you — you are just a bit different. Just a bit more than he’d ever given you thought or credit for. Perhaps that was his mistake — he makes a mental note not to make it again.

“I know you’re not…” you wave a light hand towards where the other two knights had stumbled away, and the pinkness in your cheeks makes Zoro’s stomach do a few choice flips he’d never remembered his own stomach capable of till now.

There’s a moment’s pause, and then — you both break into laughter at the same time — him, a tad self-conscious, you, unbidden and bright as birdsong.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Your sparring form is really nice.”

You both speak at the same time, and in the startled quiet that stretches right after, Zoro finds himself held still by the weight of your eyes, the heaviness of your gaze as it rests on him, wide and startled and… almost pleased. He clears his throat and tries again —

“I hear you all the time —”

“I see you sometimes —”

It happens again, and when you both pause this time, he can see the burgeoning smile threatening to spill over your petal-pink lips; he can feel his own smile breaking like ice in spring’s first thaw.

“I don’t know much about music but —”

“It looks like you’re dancing —”

By the third time, Zoro’s starting to wonder if you’re doing this on purpose, or perhaps he is — because what wouldn’t he do to keep on basking in the sunshine of your laughter, to soak in the brilliance of your smile? What stars and moons and planets wouldn’t conspire to align just for another chance to glance into the midnight dark of your eyes, as depthless as any sea, as wide as any self-respecting night?

“Well —” Zoro clears his throat; you purse your lips and wait for him to finish, “I’ve never danced…”

Mischief hinges on the edge of your smile as you peer up at him through your lashes, “You should try it sometime. I hear it’s quite the workout.”

And there’s something singing beneath the sweetness of your voice that hints at a darker, more intimate meaning to the word dance, but Zoro stops himself before his mind can unspool entirely. He sucks in a breath and chews over the words now sitting solid and unwieldy on his tongue —

“I’ve always thought dancing… required music and —” he swallows and forces his sentence onward like shepherding a stubborn and reluctant bull, “a partner.”

You let your held lilt sideways, watching him like a bird on a branch might consider a squirrel on the ground.

“It’s just… I’ve never quite had either before,” he hurries to explain, feeling heat creeping into his cheeks and finally, he forces his eyes away from you, glancing up towards the piercingly blue sky, completely devoid of clouds. He curses inwardly, his eyes wandering for something — anything — to latch onto that’s not you and your mesmerizing eyes, with the universe caught behind them, or your lips, shaped so much like the answer to a question he hadn’t realized he’d been asking for his whole, entire life.

He watches as you square your shoulders and take a half-step into his personal space, just the tips of your toes grazing into the proximity of too close and at the same time not nearly close enough — then, you dip into a curtsey, lowering your eyes so he has nothing to ground himself on except for the brief breath of your skin, the waft of your hair sweeping down over your shoulders, smelling so much like cotton and milk, salt and honey.

“But now, from where I’m standing…” you look up, and your smile is so much poisoned apples and cyanide, “you’ve got both, don’t you?”

Zoro sucks in a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his head spinning for a second too long and he almost stumbles. Almost. But he catches himself, and when he does, his body moves as a marionette on a string — as if his arms and legs already knew what his mind had for so long kept from him —

He dips into a bow, sweeping one arm over his stomach, the other out to the side. And there’s no dull, discordant clank of armor because hunters and soldiers are made different. Fighters, both, but hunters require a different kind of bloodlust, are a different strain of heartless.

You let out a soft laugh and Zoro wonders if there’s any better music in the world as he offers you his hand. You take it, and he draws your body near with reverent palms, exhaltant fingers — he can almost feel the wild birdwing beat of your heart fluttering in your chest, supplemented by the thundering of his own much more well-trained heartbeat, but even so, the dull pulse of it makes him feel heady with excitement — thump, thump, thump.

And slowly, ever so slowly, the pair of you begin to dance. At first, just to the soft inhale and exhale of your breaths and his. And then, you smile up at him, a startling, chest-piercing, swan-song thing — as you begin to sing.

His first step is hesitant, and the second less so. By the third, Zoro feels his shoulders flattening out and his chest rising as he clasps your palms against his and takes the lead. You let him, with a tinkling laugh, your smile light and bright as daybreak. Your feet skip like pebbles across a mirror lake, and by the time he lets you go, the midday sun is beating down over the castle grounds and the lunch bell is ringing off in the distance. You skip out of his reach and drop into another curtsey —

“Seems like it’s past time for me to go.”

“But —” Zoro bites back the urge to chase after you, his body surging forward to try and stay within the warmth of your orbit.

“Tomorrow,” you breathe, your cheeks a bit too pink, grinning up at him with mischief in your eyes, “after the morning meal… I think I might have some more water to collect.”

You shoot him a meaningful wink as you sweep by him, humming beneath your breath as you go. You brush by him with a sweep of skirt-tails, and it’s a full minute before Zoro can form a coherent thought, whipping around to see the shadow of you disappearing around the corner of the long corridor that leads down to the kitchens.

Up above, neither of you sees the Queen with her blood-red nails clicking against the wide windowsill, her eyes trailing the shape of Zoro as he sucks in a long breath, and shakes himself, before heading back to the training grounds, his earrings catching the afternoon light in a series of gold-gilded sparks.

The next day, Zoro finds you dancing to a two-step by yourself, a bucket of water propped on your hip, the late morning sun caressing your skin like a lover’s fingers. And he finds himself held still by the sight of you, your eyes closed, your body swaying to the rhythm and breath of the earth, the sound of your voice filling the air as water might an already-full glass — spilling over and over till it soaks the earth between you both.

He clears his throat, and you open your eyes. You smile.

Almost sheepishly, he offers you a hand. You take it, and the half-filled bucket is left to teeter precariously on the well’s stone-worn edge as you laugh, letting Zoro pull you in, his palm pressing to the bend of your waist, fingers skimming the small of your back.

Three days, you dance. Three days of blissful mornings and sun-soaked afternoons. Three nights of moonlit walks and roses dipped in starlight.

Because the best things in the world always come in threes — but it just so happens that so do the worst.

Zoro feels his skin crawling when he receives the summons from the Queen. There is only one reason the Queen would summon a hunter like him — she’s found something (or someone) worthy of being hunted. He prays it will not take him away for long.

“Zoro…” the Queen purrs, barely turning to look at him as he bows his head, holding the pose for three beats before straightening. She reaches up to grace her fingers over the edges of an ornate mirror hanging on her wall — a mirror she covets. Zoro has seen its magic, the dull, rough-edged ache thrumming through the earth and the air like poison. He schools his expression into one of flat disinterest as he squares his shoulders.

“Your Highness.”

“I trust you’re familiar with my mirror?”

Zoro makes a soft noise of consent, cold slipping down his spine like cool fingers.

“Then… I trust you know what it does?” the Queen asks, peering at him through it’s dark, onyx reflection.

Zoro glances down, “I can’t say I do, Your Highness.”

“Well then, I’d say you’re in for a treat today —” she chuckles, the sound soft and slithering, her painted lips twisting up in a cruel smirk, “this is a magic mirror, you see… and it’s magic… tells the truth —”

Zoro remains quiet, waiting, waiting.

“Mirror, mirror…”

Zoro feels the air around him condensing, the temperature dropping as the heat siphons from the room into the mirror. The darkened surface swirls with a sickly, purple light before a pallid face appears, empty eye sockets and a hollow mouth. The skeletal reflection peers imperiously back up at the image of the Queen standing before it.

“… tell me, who is the fairest in all the land?”

The Queen preens in front of the mirror, and Zoro feels his stomach filling with lead weight at her question.

Once upon a time, he’d met a kindly old witch in the woods. Her hut had been made of something that looked curiously like gingerbread, and the flowers that decorated her windowsill had glimmered with the shine of tempered sugar. He had offered to help her carry a basket of waxy red apples from the market to her hut and in return, she’d offered him the answer to one question.

“What… exactly is magic?” he’d asked, young and uncertain.

She’d laughed a laugh that might’ve once been high and imperious but then had only sounded like an amused old woman faced with a question she hadn’t quite expected.

“Magic… well — I’ll tell you this — magic is always more than meets the eye, and never what it promises.”

Zoro had blinked, frowning as she’d peered up at him with a pair of mismatched eyes — one milky and filmed over, the other dark as crow’s feathers.

“What does… that mean?”

“It means… that sometimes, magic lies. Sometimes… magic only tells you what you want to hear. Sometimes, magic is more about what you think is true because in the end… that’s the only truth that matters.”

The magic mirror contemplates the Queen’s question as Zoro stands behind her, holding his breath.

“There is but one fairer than Your Highness —”

Zoro’s vision tunnels, the voice of the mirror thickening around him as if his head were suddenly submerged in water. Heat creeps up the back of his neck like spider’s legs, quick and skittering, and he knows the answer before the mirror says your name.

“I see…” the Queen muses, though Zoro can hear the hard edge in her voice, the light catching on it like a twisting blade as she turns back around to face him. And she is beautiful, there’s no denying — the Queen’s face was, up until very recently, what Zoro had thought true beauty must be like.

He’d understood it only in the most abstract, academic sense — beauty — had only ever nodded when the other knights and hunters had wolf-whistled at the rosy-cheeked maids that dotted the castle, scattered along the halls like handfuls of sugar.

The first time he saw the Queen, he’d wondered at the perfect proportions of her eyes and nose, the dark, certain arch of her brows, the cruel tug at the ends of her painted lips and he’d thought — ah, is this what all the fuss is about?

But then he’d seen you, hadn’t he? And your face — he knows it is not perfect, he’s leaned in close enough to see the texture that mars your cheeks, the way one side of your mouth always lilts up first in a smile, the flecks that adorn your eyes like lost shards of sunlight caught beneath your lashes —

Beautiful, he’d thought.

Later, he wonders if that moment might’ve been your doom.

“Take her into the forest,” the Queen says, smiling her cruel, cruel smile as she watches Zoro lower his head, “and bring me back her heart.”

Zoro swallows hard as he bows.

You are waiting for him the next morning, just after breakfast, your hands laced behind your back, an empty bucket resting precariously along the edge of the well.

“No dancing today,” Zoro says, his voice clipped and low, his gaze darting away toward the darkness of the forest behind you. You blink up at him before following his gaze.

“Then… will you accompany me on a walk?”

Zoro frowns, nearly wincing away from you as you lean in, grinning your sly fox’s grin.

“But…”

“Oh, don’t tell me a hunter like you’s scared of the forest.” You dance away from him before he can protest, reaching for the bucket and propping it on your right hip, “C’mon, I promised the head cook I’d pick some berries for the feast tonight. Didn’t you hear? The Queen’s finally found a spell for eternal youth and beauty.”

Zoro stares after you as you pick your way across the garden, making for the wrought-iron gates that separate the castle grounds from the wilderness beyond.

“A spell for…” Zoro’s frown deepens as you glance at him over your shoulder with a sad little smile.

“They say the Queen was cursed by a powerful witch to always search for that which she can never have.”

Zoro keeps behind you as you meander into the shadow of the trees, seemingly following a trail only you can see, occasionally stopping to bend over a burst of bright red berries, picking a few and tossing them into your bucket before pressing one to your lips. He watches as berry juice dark as blood tints your lips and trickles down the edge of your mouth.

“Did you know… that there are only three ways to break a witch’s curse? One is for the witch herself to lift the curse.”

Here in the darkness of the forest, your eyes shine like twin stars.

“Another is to kill the witch and all those who cared for her.”

Here in the darkness of the forest, the lopsided lilt of your smile flashes white, and sharp, dripping dark red —

Zoro’s sword is in his hand before he realizes, and suddenly, every twig-snap and leaf-rustle sets his bones on edge. The wind tastes sweet on his tongue, swirls thick with magic as he whirls around, searching for the silhouette of you and finding nothing but endless, pressing dark.

“Zoro?” your voice nearly makes him stumble as he twists around, eyes wide, chest heaving, only to find the tip of his sword resting against the delicate hyphen of your clavicle. Your breath hitches, soft as he’d always remembered it, but you don’t pull away; you don’t even flinch as you stare up at him, as if waiting for him to do something.

“Are you going to kill me?” your voice is low and smooth, without a single flicker of fear.

Zoro’s grip loosens as he forces himself to pull back. He hisses out a breath and shakes loose his shoulders.

“No,” he says, his own voice coarse, clipped, “I’m not. But —”

“Oh good — that would’ve made things rather awkward for our date.”

Zoro gapes as you laugh, twirling around to continue on your way through the forest. He hastens after you a few seconds later, brushing aside low-hanging branches and shouldering passed thicker bits of underbrush.

“D-date?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sounding very pleased as you lead him on, and on, and on, “you wouldn’t want to miss it — grandma’s baking pie.”

“What… ” but his words trail off once more as you turn and make towards a clearing that he’s certain wasn’t there a moment ago — a clearing with a tiny hut that looks as if it’s made of gingerbread. The flowers on the windowsill glitter jewel-bright and candy-hard.

“My grandma’s house,” you say, smiling as you push through the door with your bucket of blood-red berries still perched on your hip.

Zoro’s frown carves ever harder into his brows as he follows after you on hesitant feet, though he can’t help the way his muscles loosen the second he steps over the small hut’s threshold and catches a whiff of something wonderful in the air — cinnamon and sugar and apples.

“Ah, you’ve made it just in time!” the old witch looks up from where she’s tending a vast fire that casts the entire hut in a warm, ethereal glow. Zoro glances back at the open patch of cloudless blue sky somehow visible in a small gap between the trees before stepping in.

“Apple pie again, grandma?”

“Your favorite,” the old witch replies with a grin as you set the bucket on the small wooden table, “And I see you’ve brought a guest, though…” the old witch’s single black eye catches the firelight as she peers are Zoro, still standing just inside the doorway.

“It’s nice to see you again, young man.”

Zoro bows, rather awkwardly, and though it’s been many years since he’d helped the old woman with her apples, she looks exactly the same. He can’t say quite the same for himself.

“Come, sit! Have some berry wine,” you say, ushering Zoro towards the table, where you’ve somehow replaced the bucket with two jars of red liquid that glimmers like garnets in the flickering firelight. You pour a glass and nudge it towards Zoro, who simply stares, trying very hard to wrap his head around what must be happening.

A dull, thrumming ache is gathering at the base of his skull, but the pie smells so sweet and the wine looks ever so tantalizing.

He reaches out and takes a sip, letting the cool liquid slip down his throat. He feels it slither through him, sending tiny pin-pricks of heat trailing along his limbs as he swallows.

“Ah… so he’s not like the rest of them.”

He blinks down at the wine in his cup for a second more before you reach out and tug it from his hand. A soft palm cups his cheek and forces his face up. He meets your eyes and finds them searching.

“You weren’t lying… you really hadn’t planned on killing me.”

You sound almost surprised as your grandma chuckles behind you, the noise like the clack of old stones against one another.

“I told you he was different,” the old witch says, slowly slicing a bit of pie and putting it on a plate.

“All men think they’re different,” you say, your voice resigned as you take the slice of pie and set it in front of Zoro, “Right, now eat — it’ll make you feel better. I’m sorry about that… just… you can never be sure.”

The old witch tuts, shaking her head, “A broken heart is it’s own kind of curse, you know.”

Zoro blearily takes a bite of cake and feels his senses returning to him one by one; he takes stock of them as if he’d forgotten entirely that he’d lost them in the first place. As he chews and swallows once, twice — by the third time he can feel the tightness in his muscles returning as panic and confusion flood his system.

He jerks up from the table and reaches for his sword.

“Please, there’s no need for that,” you say, though you sound hesitant as you hold up a hand, your expression earnest as you take half a step back.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he seethes, looking between you and the old witch, uncertain of who to aim his anger at.

“I had to be sure,” you say again, your voice imploring as you inch forward, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah well —” Zoro gulps past the dryness in his mouth as he narrows his eyes, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

You wince ever so slightly, looking away, “No, you’re right but… please,” you say again, and the word works like magic as it settles over Zoro’s shoulders. He wonders if it’s actual magic, but no — there’s no strange sweetness in the air, no thick fog threatening to cloud over his judgment.

“It might be quicker to show him,” the old witch suggests, still watching the pair of you with her one oil-black eye, sounding pleasant and entirely unfazed.

“Right… yes —” you sigh, motioning for the door, “The sty is just out behind the hut — you can go out first if you’d like,” you offer.

Zoro looks between you and the door before inching back and edging open the door with his foot, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you follow him with light, muted movements.

The air outside is crisp and cool and Zoro can’t help sucking in a breath as he steps out from the halo of the firelit hut. Grass crunches beneath his feet, birds sing overhead. There’s the lingering heat of magic still crackling in the air, but when his gaze falls back onto you, he finds you no less lovely than he’d done the first time.

“This way,” you say, rounding the edge of the hut and leading him towards a sizeable pigsty that he’d completely failed to notice the first time he’d been here as a young boy.

A looming sense of dread calcifies in the base of his stomach as he approaches the pigsty on heavy feet. The pigs all jostle against one another, snorting and snuffling with their noses pressed into the long feeding pen. From the pockets of your skirt, you produce a handful of bright red berries and toss it into the pen. Zoro watches with mixed fascination and mounting horror as the pigs tumble over each other to forage for the fruit in the dried hay and mud.

“Have you ever heard the saying that… there are some stories the world never stops telling?” your voice is quiet and sad as you reach over to skim your knuckles along the pale pink snout of a snorting pig.

And suddenly, Zoro understands — he doesn’t know if it was a trick of the light or perhaps the magic still working its way through his system but the understanding comes like a rainstorm, a few tiny droplets before the downpour. And were he a weaker man, he might’ve back and tried to make a run for it. But instead, he stands and stares with a strange pity welling up inside him at the lolling tongues and flopping ears.

“These were all men — hunters,” he says, his words slow at first, but picking up speed as he continues to speak, “Who tried to lure you into the wood to —”

“To kill me, yes, so that they could give the Queen my heart. Because you see, the heart of a witch would give her what she so desperately desires —”

“Eternal youth,” Zoro breathes.

“And the first time, I was heartbroken,” you turn away from him, pressing a hand to your heart, “But I managed to get away. And instead of going back empty-handed to face the Queen’s wrath, the hunter caught a wild boar in the forest and cut out its heart instead. Only — an old she-wolf had been hunting the boar for days, and was robbed of a meal. She and I… we came across each other and I was so — so hurt that I offered her my heart in return for putting me out of my misery.”

Zoro presses his lips as your words rush from you in a great wave, pieces of truths crystalizing before him even as they continue to shatter the world he thought he’d known.

“She told me then that… no man is worth dying for, especially not one who would lie to you just to steal your heart. And she offered to teach me —” you wave a hand at the pigsty, “And the rest…”

The soft silence that stretches between you is thin and pained. You cradle your hands to your chest as if trying to stem the hurt of some unspeakable heartbreak.

“And… the wine?” he asks.

Your face lifts and a strike of that familiar, mischievous light returns to your eyes as you grin.

“That was something I brewed up on my own — if the drinker bears me any ill intentions, then it’ll turn them into something a bit more… fitting of their true hearts. But if not then…” you grace him with a soft smile, “Then it’ll only ever just be wine, though a bit on the stronger side.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

A brief silence falls between the pair of you as the sky above begins to shift from blue to a soft lavender.

“You said… the first time,” Zoro says, curiosity now burgeoning from beneath the receding shock of the day, “Do you make a habit of luring men into the woods, then?”

You scoff, “Luring? Hardly. Magic can only do so much, and though the odd enchanted trinket will sell well at the monthly market, people still tend to be wary around witches.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Zoro says dryly, his eyes flickering toward the sty where the pigs, finally satisfied that there are no more berries to be found, have settled into the thick stacks of hay, grumbling and snorting.

You allow him a derisive smile, “Yes well — a girl and her grandmother still have to eat and bathe, and you can only stand so much apple pie before it starts to get a little old. So… I keep a job at the castle. Believe it or not, serving a self-obsessed Queen pays well. And all those… men —” you force out the word like spitting out poison, “Had seemed… good. At least at first.”

Zoro remains quiet as you pause, looking down at your own hands. It’s the first time he notices the light calluses that mar your palms, not so different from his own. He wonders at the smoothness of the handles on the wooden bucket you’d carried so easily through the woods, at how long it must’ve taken for a pair of hands like yours to wear them down so. The old witch’s words echo in his mind — a broken heart is it’s own kind of curse.

“Is that how you got so good at dancing?” he asks.

You grin, giving him a sidelong glance, “Perhaps.”

Zoro sighs, tilting his head back to look at the small patch of visible sky, now a deep, bruising purple.

“So. Now what?”

You echo his sigh, looking up as well, “You can go back, if you’d like.”

“And what? Tell the Queen that you got away?”

Your smile hardens ever so slightly, “Or, you could kill something else in the forest and offer her it’s heart instead.”

“But wouldn’t she know? After she ate it and doesn’t gain eternal youth?”

You shrug, looking away, “You’d be surprised what a person can trick themselves into believing, if they just try hard enough.”

Zoro nods, letting his eyes fall back down to his hand, resting idle against the hilt of his sword.

“Or, I could stay.”

He doesn’t know what makes him say it — and perhaps it was the darkness of the forest, the close, flustered whisper of the leaves, or perhaps it was the lingering sweetness of your home-brewed wine and the tantalizing smell of magic and cinnamon still in the air. But he says it, and he finds that even the strange, still shocked moment after, he doesn’t regret it.

“You… you want to stay?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so uncertain before.

“Why not? I can’t go back and…” he motions at the hut and the soft ring of warm firelight seeping out from the tiny windows, “The wine’s not bad.”

And perhaps for the first time, Zoro thinks, he sees you smile — a smile that isn’t sharp and full of hidden teeth. A smile that’s helpless and hopeful and just a little bit pained. He smiles back and hopes —

“C’mon then… you can help with the fire. And carry the water.”

“Hn. But you seemed so good at it.”

You shoot him a slight pout as the pair of you duck back into the hut to the smell of roasting vegetables.

There are some stories the world can never stop telling, stories so old that the sing harmony to the very tuning of the universe.

Once upon a time, there was a wolf, a grandmother, and a girl in the woods. Once upon a time, an old witch built a house of gingerbread to lure in the lives of unheedful children. Once upon a time, there was a Queen with a magic mirror. Once upon a time, a witch lived alone in a secluded hut and lured men to her table only to turn them into the pigs they’d always been inside.

Once upon a time, a boy asked a girl to dance.

Once, a boy told the truth and the girl didn’t believe him, because all the boys who’d broken her heart before had given her no reason not to. And a heart can only be broken so many times before it, too, gets tired.

Once, she thought that broken hearts could never be mended.

But she should’ve known that stories, like the magic they hold, very rarely tell the truth. Or perhaps, they too only tell the truths that the listener wants to hear, or is ready to hear. Never more, never less.

So, here is another story — one that’s not so frequently told, but is just as true as the others —

Once, there was a boy who was born with a sword in his hand, who had never know that his body could hold so much music or laughter. Then, he met a girl with the most beautiful voice in all the land, and he, like so many before him, fell in love. Only, the girl had been hurt by all those before him, and no longer trusted the words of boys with sword-hilt smiles and rough, callused fingers. But when he asked her to dance, she agreed anyway, and when she introduced him to her grandmother and offered him wine, he did not hesitate. Instead, he asked if he could stay the night.

That was a long, long time ago.

There will always be another girl with a pretty voice and a viper’s smile at the castle beyond the woods, and always another young knight too eager to please his Queen. There will always be apples at the morning market and magic in the air. But perhaps the pieces don’t fall right where they ought to; perhaps they never did. Perhaps the stories we tell are only ever stories.

“You told me once that there were three ways to lift a curse,” Zoro asks one day, a wooden bucket in one hand, three swords strapped to his opposite hip.

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking up from the large pot of soup bubbling over the fire, a song threading beneath your breath as you sway back and forth.

Zoro grunts as he puts the bucket on the worn wooden table, walking over to slip an around your middle and hook his chin over your shoulder. You laugh as you let yourself be pulled back into his embrace.

“You only ever told me two.”

“Ah… right —” you smile, a smile that is no longer jagged but worn soft around the edges, as if all the sharpness has been smoothed over by years and years of tenderness, years and years of trust, of love.

“So?”

“So…” you place down the wooden spoon and turn to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders as his large, callused palms settle around your waist. The pair of you sway to a song that only the two of you can hear, a song that sings harmony to the very tuning of the universe.

“The third way to break a curse is the easiest… but also the hardest way, depending on who you are,” you say, smiling and swaying in Zoro’s arms. Like this, you can see the late afternoon light as it pours through the small window and catches on the dull gold of his triplet earrings.

“It’s a simple thing, really,” you say, as Zoro leans down to press his forehead to yours, your breaths dancing in the negative space between your bodies. Outside, an old witch sits on a rocking chair and admires the sunset. Occasionally, she reaches into her skirt pockets for a handful of berries to toss into the pigsty to her right.

“Oh yeah? How simple?” Zoro asks.

“Why…” you lean up on your tiptoes, your nose brushing his, your lips mere inches apart. Behind you, bottles and bottles of home-brewed wine sit along the mantle of the great stone fireplace, the color bright and true and freshly spilled blood.

“It’s as simple as a kiss from your one true love, of course.”

[crisiscutie]

The reunion at hand may bring us joy. Pt 1

Pairing: "Fluffy" Sephiroth/Pregnant Darling

A wee distant prequel in the alternate Domestic AU, back when Darling was still on the run from Yandere Sephiroth with the boys.

You gently touched your slightly swollen belly, shaking your head as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. There was no denying it now - you were pregnant with your fourth child. This revelation shouldn't have come as a surprise. Something had to result out of those nightly sessions you had with Sephiroth months ago.

Yet with the familiar symptoms and signs, you had acted like nothing was different since you and the boys went on the run. Now that your baby bump had begun to form, ignoring your greatest worry was no longer an option. You covered your eyes and let out a soft sob as you anxiously deliberated your next steps.

You could should be able to handle this one. After all, ten years ago, you had been pregnant with triplets. One more child in the picture was no problem.

But you couldn't even bring yourself to explain to your precious boys why you all had to leave that fateful day. The horrifying atrocities and the monster their father had become were things they shouldn't and couldn't comprehend. So how the hell could you explain to them that you're pregnant while being on a special mother-sons expedition, celebrating your degradation mysteriously curing itself? The boys were already concerned when you had bouts of morning sickness, but you diverted their attention by promising to take them to the Gold Saucer, since they had begged to visit it during the journey in Corel.

They're smart like Sephiroth, though. You won't be able to hide this from them for long. Maybe you could tell them at the amusement park during a quiet moment? You pulled your wool sweater down and slipped your black jacket on for even more cover. It's bad enough being an ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids. No need to make it obvious that you're a pregnant ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids.

When you were about to leave the restroom, you heard a groan of distress from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a woman dressed in tattered black robes. She looked to be on the edge of death. Her lifeless, baggy eyes, sickly complexion, and brittle hair nearly sent you into a panic. She looked like you when your degradation was at its worst. She stumbled towards you, losing her balance. You immediately reached out and caught her, allowing her to rest her head on your shoulder.

"Miss... are you okay?" you whispered. You couldn't resist the instinctive desire to hold her tightly, as if she were a precious jewel for safekeeping. Perhaps it was your natural empathy and decency for a fellow human. Or it's just your pathetic projection.

You tried to support her upright, but in a swift second, the woman summoned all her strength to push you against the bathroom wall, her small form transforming into the towering visage of your dear husband, Sephiroth.

In slow, robotic movement, he lifted his head from your shoulder. You could feel his soft, silver tresses sliding over the fabric of your jacket as his gaze met yours. His slit pupils were devoid of the soft, almost-catlike gaze he usually wore. Instead, there was only the stare of a snake watching its prey.

He cupped your chin. "You dare to run away? With my children? After all I've done for you. For them," he hissed. You couldn't respond. Were you already beginning to lose your mind? How did he know your location? How is here? As he caught the flicker of fear and shock in your eyes, his slit pupils constricted. He then smirked and slid his gloved hand down your body, opening the jacket and lifting the wool sweater to expose your slightly swollen belly.

"I will reclaim what's mine," he declared, his gloved hand resting on your belly. These were his final words before the robbed woman retook her place. She groaned in your ear once again. A nurse burst into the room and quickly approached the two of you. She pulled the robbed woman away from you.

"Excuse her. She's not feeling well because of the mako poisoning!" the nurse hastily explained to you, shortly lecturing the robbed woman afterwards. You stifled a gasp at them before fast walking out of the restroom. Your gaze darted up and down the streets, clutching your bag close to you.

Fuck. Fuck. The boys. Where are they!? You all can't afford to stick around much longer. But you don't see them anywhere! They should've been here, waiting outside of the bathroom as you ordered. Your panic increased tenfold when you rushed down the dusty road, seeing the bodies of dead Shinra grunts scattered about. You forced your head to keep looking forward, not even noticing the black feathers on some bodies.

Time passed slowly until you found a platform with a gondola, hoping your boys were near since you quietly searched everywhere else. You then heard the familiar whisper of Kadaj calling out to you from behind.

"Mother, we're over here!" He said. They were hiding in small bins, with a white lid over their heads nearby an abandoned clinc.

"What happened?" You asked.

"We don't know... Those men were running after us, so we hid in these bins when they lost sight of us," Yazoo explained. The three came out, their hair and clothing a bit rustled, but no signs of physical injury. But their eyes said it all. They were shaken. Afraid. All supposedly under your watch. Poor Loz was crying silently, keeping his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. You ruffled his hair, giving him an apologetic gaze.

The three hugged boys hugged you tightly, afraid to let you go. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't left you three alone..." You said. Kadaj lifted his head, about to say something before the sight of your uncovered pregnant belly caught his attention. The other two followed after, their fearful gaze turning into utter confusion and curiosity.

Shit. Of course you didn't bother to fix yourself up after that bathroom encounter with Sephiroth. "Boys... I-"

"They can't be far! Split up and search the alleys!" a voice from a distance ranged out, with a tone you recognized to certainly belong to a grunt captain. With quick thinking, you ushered the boys into the nearby gondola and closed the door.

"We'll discuss this later. Just stay quiet for Mother please..." you uttered, maneuvering to the controls. Your sweet triplet boys nodded, immediately sitting down and observing you silently. Thank the planet that they knew when to get serious and follow directions. But alas, mayhap this be evidence of them growing up too fast. Any other child at their age would still be shaken, frantically asking questions, begging for assurance. Just how much more horrors did they witness in your absence?

You slapped the control panel in frustration, which seemed to make it work. The gondola creaked and drifted along the cable lines. You peeked out of the tinted window, seeing more Shinra troops scouting the streets. Thankfully, no one seemed focused on the gondola. You sighed in relief and wiped your forehead as you sat down, sitting opposite of the triplets.

They were still staring at you, their intense catlike pupils constricting as the silence persisted. It was too difficult for you to not think of Sephiroth at this moment. This peculiar aura was all too familiar. Each one was so so similar to him, in each and every way.

Your lips curved into a forced grin, as you leaned forward, talking in your light tone.

"You know, this itinerary of Corel told me about a very special attraction nearby." The boys broke out of their peculiar observant trance, their slit pupils now dilating in anticipation as they leaned forward themselves, meeting you with excitement.

"I-Is it the gold saucer?" Loz asked. You nodded.

"Mhmm!" I was thinking, 'Maybe we could go there sooner.' What do you boys think?" The boys collectively hollered in excitement, littering you in gratitude and requests to go to a specific attention first. You chuckled, sitting back and watching them argue with each other about who gets to where first. Good thing you got them focused on something else for now.

Though your amusement ended quickly when you spotted a black feather stuck in the window's crevice, reminding you of your duty...

Oh, why can't something be easy for once?

[mirensiart]

Okay so. Pain sharing AU. One or more Link is trans. It’s someone’s time of them month.

(No this is totally not me projecting my own current suffering whaaaaat?)

Especially if that link has particularly painful periods, ESPECIALLY if he has been looked down on/made fun of for being practically debilitated by pain for a day or two every month by fellow soldiers or something (so - wars maybe? Or Wild?) to the point where they now do their best to act like everything is fine and then the others feel it and are like “what the fuck who is straight up dying right now???” And like. Yeah Twi’s transformation pain was worse, but it was brief. This is constant for literal hours. And completely involuntary. Even overdosing on pain meds just barely makes it bearable so you can function.

(Yeah okay I’m projecting lol)

This ask is very funny cause I am ALSO currently going through my period and yeah, it does feel like that jfbdjd

Ok but, my personal and very dear headcanon is that wars is a butch, it's also why I hc him and linkle to be identical twins

So yeah, he would suffer with period pains just like that lol funnily enough, I also hc twilight as butch and I do like the idea that despite his high pain resistance, period cramps END him, he'd take wolfie any time lmao

Also, about wars, really like the idea that time&wind know about it from the war, but they're like

"dude, you weren't kidding when u said this shit SUCKS"

"You thought I was EXAGGERATING?"

"Eh well, you tend to be pretty dramatic"

Anyway, yeah lol

[thedovesaredying]

Reverse Fae AU | Fae!Reader x Nikto

Once again I have been tempted into the fae wilds again by the dear @ghouljams and have another piece for your enjoyment! No smut just yet, but it'll be in the next part I post. This fic is just a bit of a "how reader gets her man" explaination.

Putting Nikto through The Horrors TM. because if no one else will then I guess it has to be me.

Y'all might be able to tell SCP-1128 is one of my faves, so I drew a bit of inspiration from there. Unedited as always baby!

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He’s made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake.  

A voice hums so softly from the bathroom, echoes bouncing against the tiles to create a strange, hypnotic symphony. The sound is so gentle, luring his body into a false sense of security, muscles growing lax despite the thundering of his heart against his chest. His brain is confused, knowing there’s something wrong, but unable to feel the fear he should be trembling with.  

It calls his name in a saccharine tone, dripping with false sweetness. Not even Nikto, but his real name, the one he’s hidden for so long. Despite covering his ears and gritting his teeth against the sound, he can still hear it deep within his mind. He can almost feel the way fingers comb through his thoughts, plucking at his already frail restraint.  

“Отвяжись!” He snaps, nails digging into his own scalp as if he could tear the creature’s influence from his brain with his own two hands.  

“Just open the door,” that damn voice coos, undercut by the sound of claws dragging down the edge of the doorframe. “You called me here, silly human,” the little giggle it makes causes his stomach to flip and a fluttering sensation to develop rather rapidly, “why are you hiding from me?”  

He wants to snarl back that it was a mistake, but you’ve started humming that strange song again, and his entire body has begun to feel as if it’s weighed down by lead. The only sound he can make is a rather pathetic groan, his eyes drooping with a sudden wave of exhaustion.  

He never should have accepted that “gift” from a fae, his babushka would absolutely have his head if she were still around. She’d told him tales, as all grandmothers tend to do, many of them revolving around the trickery and cruelty of the fae. They never do something or give something without expecting something in return.  

It had given him the little vial of water, pressing it into his gloved hands with a grin still dripping blood stolen from the body of one of his allies. “Keep it,” the monster whispers, tickling his ears with her breath despite the many layers of clothing between them, “keep it on your body, at all times.” Her fingers, tipped with dangerously sharp nails gently trail down the front of his body armour, voice purring in a way that sends shivers down his spine.  

He knew better than to refuse, lest it be considered a slight against the creature, and took the little glass jar of water, tucking it into his shirt and watching as the fae disappears back into the lake with a satisfied grin.  

The first time his little gift was used was entirely by accident. A simple infiltration mission where Nikto and his fellow KorTac operators were supposed to be gathering intel before returning to exfil.  

Perhaps it’s because of how simple the mission had been that caused him to grow sloppy. His mind was elsewhere, and that was something the enemy seemed to have noticed and were quick to capitalise on. He would be a little embarrassed if it weren’t for how the rest of the scenario had played out.  

A young enemy soldier – a child really, too young to have more than a few patchy hairs growing on his face – he’d been cocky enough (or perhaps desperate enough) to think he could get the jump on him. A shame, as the boy might have had potential had he not made the mistake of trying to fight the wrong mercenary.  

When he turns a blind corner, the boy was ready for him, choosing to lunge forward, combat knife poised to strike at the Russian’s throat. Nikto is fast enough to deflect the blade with the armoured back of his arm but is forced to release his grip on his rifle in order to do so.  

A kick to the enemy’s stomach has the boy stumbling backward, but before Nikto can continue, a second opponent joins the scuffle. The other man tries to tackle him, but it only opens them up to the headlock Nikto grapples them into.  

A rough jerk of his own knife against the enemy’s throat has arteries and veins shredding under his hand and a spray of blood bursting forth in all directions. He throws the flailing body to the floor, ignoring the way the man weakly grasps at his throat, a pool of crimson growing with every passing moment.  

The younger soldier reaches for him again, ignoring their fallen comrade as they try again to reach for Nikto with one hand and swipe at him with their other one. He dodges the slash once again but isn’t fast enough to evade the man completely. The boy’s fingers wrap around the thin twine keeping the tiny jar of water around his neck.  

The fabric is thin enough that his backward momentum easily snaps it, the vial falling away the moment the enemy tosses it aside. It smashes into the ground, thin glass splintering apart and the clear liquid inside dripping into the large pool of blood.  

He’s upset, if only because it’s the only proof he has of the strange encounter several months ago. No one would ever believe him if he spoke of it and on some days, he too doubts his own memories. Yet there lay the proof, proof that he’d somehow managed to please the fae creature enough for it to offer him a gift in return.  

Wish a snarl, he lands a devastating kick to the boy’s stomach, sending the lad stumbling backwards. As he steps back to create more rooms for himself, he’s cautious to move around the bloody puddle. Though his eyes remain trained on the boy – now righting himself and refilling his lungs with the air that Nikto’s strike had stolen from him – he can’t help but to glance at the blood.  

His eyes are drawn to it like magnets, his hair standing on end as something sends a shiver down his spine. Darkness seems to swirl within the ruby pool, deepening its colour until it’s almost black. Looking away from it feels as foolish as turning his back to a wild animal, but he must keep focus on the more present danger. His curiosities can be indulged later.  

The boy has his dagger raised and poised to strike at the first sign of weakness, taking a single step closer. His foot meets the puddle and, before he even has the chance to so much as scream, his body is falling as though the floor below him has suddenly vanished. The soldier’s arms grab at the ground next to the blood, only just stopping him from being completely submerged.  

He watches the boy splutter, arms flailing and water sloshing all over the floor. The larger the puddle grows from his rapid movements, the more the floor seems to disappear. The other soldier struggles to stay afloat, rapidly losing more ground the more he battles against the seemingly never-ending liquid.  

Nikto watches, unable to do much more than openly stare, the other man is suddenly torn from above the water. The soldier can only let out the beginnings of a scream, but it’s immediately muffled by the sound of the water splashing in his wake. It disturbs the corpse of the other deceased soldier, and he watches as it too slips below the surface.  

With the other soldier no longer disturbing the pool’s surface, the puddle has finally stopped its terrifying expansion. But he doesn’t have the time to relax, as a large fin cuts through the water, reminiscent of a shark’s dorsal fin in the way it so seamlessly glides along without causing so much as a ripple.  

A soft song floats up from the abyss, alien and terrifying, yet somehow one of the most alluring sounds he’s ever heard. There’s an urge that builds within him, a desperate need to get closer to the water. He can’t help it, almost as though his body is moving while his mind is somewhere else.  

He hears rather than feels it when he falls to his knees, reaching out and dipping his hands into the pool. There’s a voice somewhere in the back of his head screaming, brain trying to trigger every fight or flight response in the hopes of something getting through to his body that seems to have gone rogue.  

His arms don’t stop, even as his gloves begin to fill with water, not until he feels something brush against the tips of his fingers. He wants to pull away, to tear himself back from whatever creature just pulled the other soldier to his death. But he holds still, hands held outstretched.  

He feels as something press up against his palm, before suddenly, it’s as though a switch is flipped in his brain and all bodily control has returned to him. With a jerk, he throws himself away from the pool, shoving himself away from the water.  

As the water settles, the room falls into silence. A moment later, someone rounds the corner, guns raised and sweeping the room. It’s his colleagues, all staring at him as though he’s lost him mind.  

“Are you broken, sir?” One of them asks.  

He frowns for a second, before realising that his gloves which were damp with water, are now stained with a deep red, a pungent metallic scent burning his nose even through his mask. Perhaps his men aren’t completely foolish, the blood stains do look rather grizzly in hindsight.  

“нет,” he waves them off, pushing back to his feet as he tries to calm his still racing heart. A single glance at the puddle reveals it is once again just that, a mere puddle of blood and nothing more. When he looks down to what was placed into his hand, he’s met with a vial of crystal-clear water, identical to his previous one.  

If he had been smart, he would have thrown the water away and run, but something compelled him to keep it close. Perhaps if he had, then he wouldn’t be in this situation now.  

Her voice had whispered to him, encouraging him to pour a drop of the water into a full bath. It pulled at his curiosity, digging its claws into his thoughts and pushing him to do something he already knew was foolish.  

As the fae starts calling for him again, he digs his hands into his hair, praying that the pain will distract him from the haunting song that creeps through the crack in the door. He closes his eyes, but when they open- He's stood inside the bathroom again, his muscles locked up and completely frozen.  

He can feel claws sliding up the back of his shirt, no longer protected by his usual body armour. The sensation sends goosebumps rising in the wake of each claw, climbing up and up and up, until finally reaching the back of his neck. Fingers shifting to curl around his throat, holding him in place with a grip like steel.  

Despite trying with every shred of strength to try and pull away, body shaking from the exertion, he’s still unable to move. He can’t even widen his eyes as another hand grabs at his face, pressing against his scarred cheeks until his mouth is forced open. A single, clawed finger slides between his lips, pressing down on his tongue hard, until a tiny bead of blood pools beneath its tip.  

He chokes when water begins to rush from the creature’s hand and directly into his mouth, but rather than the normally cool, soothing sensation that should have met him, it burns more like acid. It hits the tiny wound in his mouth, mixing with his own blood and burning through his entire body.  

He can’t tell how long it lasts for, not with the way his brain begins to fog over. The thoughts slowly drift away, and he can’t quite recall why he should care so much about that. Without the fear he can at least appreciate the cool hands that drop from his face and throat, then down to his chest, only the thin fabric of a sleep shirt separating the hands from his burning skin.  

“That feels better now, doesn’t it?” that soft voice coos, lips brushing over his pulse point, followed by the gentle scraping of teeth.  

He can only hum in agreement, eyes drooping as his head slowly drops down slightly. He feels a forehead press against his own, looking up and into the pools of liquid black staring back at him. “да,” he breathes, enjoying the unfamiliar sensation of another person’s hands roaming his body.  

“Let’s get you home then, yes?” He nods against her, ignoring the way his stomach twists nervously when the fae only grins.  

[mizukkay]

hello fellow soldier dragged suddenly back into kl…… got any fic recs 😔 shoutout vld turning 8 this year…..

glad to know i'm not alone in this. shoutout to us and vld 🙏 can't believe i've been around for so long.. and sorry for the wait! but since i've answered a similar around the time i got yours. I had to wait and read more fics before replying yk

first of all, shout-out to these two amazing fics that have blown my mind, absolute must read in my opinion!! please go check them out.

"Dear Reader" / College AU

"A King and His Fisherman" / Modern AU

would love to draw a little something for at least one of them :]

"Can't Fight This Feeling" - College AU - Pizza Place

"hot as hell"

"are you a witch? 'cause i'm under your spell" / Neighbors - Witch AU

"It Never Rains on Saturday" Fantasy / RPG AU - collection

"can't buy me love" - Modern AU

"Code Word Kisses"

[kathaynesart]

Thoughts on Cass’ ROTTMNT Future AU Casey series?

What, you mean you haven’t noticed me crying in the comment section as much as everyone else? Haha, but seriously. @somerandomdudelmao story is one of my all time favorites and very near and dear to my heart. I think that’s why their latest update hit me so hard. I suppose it’s only fair given my past sins.

I feel close to their story since we’re both trying to tell more canonically accurate bad future stories. A fellow soldier in arms haha. This is just my interpretation but I like that it feels as if Cass’ story is more in line with the fun (but still emotional), episodic vibe of the Rise show, while mine is closer in tone to the Rise movie. I don’t think this was at all intentional on either of our parts but it’s a fun detail to think about.

I’ve done a little crossover with them during the Peepaw Showdown competition which you can find in my Masterpost. It’s very short but a really fun and heartwarming read. Recommend it if you haven’t.

On top of all that Cass had mentioned sneaking some nods to Replica into their story so I recommend rereading their whole comic and see if you can find them ;) I will definitely be throwing in a nod or two for their story into Replica.

[imtrashraccoon]

here’s a drabble idea!

Nightmare sans x dog monster! reader

so the premise is that the dear reader is a dog like doggo, greater dog, lesser dog, etc

and if we want to get REAL specific the dog breed reader is a konoki dog!

Hi! Thank you for submitting this idea!

I was shocked how quickly I managed to think of something for this prompt. I hope you don't mind that I made it a fantasy and soulmate au. I actually haven't written this sort of thing before and I am still buzzing with ideas.

I never heard of a Konoki dog before this and they look super cute! I haven't written this type of character before so I hope you like them. I certainly have fallen in love with them! (I affectionately call them Koko in my notes!)

By the way, I renamed Nightmare (and a few others!) for this to make him a more unique character. There's a note at the bottom for the meanings of their names too.

The Dark Fortress

Nightmare x Kokoni!Dog Monster Reader

Fantasy & Soulmate AU

Word Count: 6, 219

You woke up to the sound of rain softly pattering on your tent. The light was rather dim so you estimated the sun wasn't up just yet. Still, it couldn't hurt to get up and do some quick exercises before your day properly started.

The rain made the air smell good - slightly earthy with a hint of the harsher scent of ozone. The only bad thing was that you didn't like having wet fur, especially when on a mission, since it stuck to your armour and meant your weapon was harder to hang onto.

The scent in the air reminded you of a reoccurring dream that you'd been having your whole life. While the circumstances were different each time, there was always a distinctive smell present. It was earthy and sweet with aromatic undertones similar to liquorice or fennel. It was also slightly spicy or maybe salty was a better description? This smell seemed to belong to someone but you'd never been able to see what they looked like.

Not everyone believed in the concept of soulmates but you couldn't find any other explanation for why you kept dreaming about this one smell. There were instances where a few dogs had been plagued by a particular smell and then ended up finding their soulmate, but this was always in real life and never only in a dream.

With a sigh, you meticulously fastened the straps and buckles that held your armour together. While many of your fellow soldiers preferred full plate, you liked the mobility that light armour provided. This combined with your smaller size and slight frame made you the perfect scout or assassin for the Royal Guard.

You didn't have time this morning to contemplate the possibility of meeting your soulmate. You had a duty to perform and any distractions could put the lives of both you and your comrades in danger.

Your mission was to investigate the dark fortress that had appeared overnight a few months ago in the neighboring Kingdom of Shiftingtails. The kingdom's forces had apparently been completely overrun and destroyed in a matter of days. Word on the conditions inside the country had been scarce but the handful of refugees that had made it out all told harrowing tales of their escape.

Whatever magic that had created the fortress was dangerous. It corrupted the land, killing both plants and animals alike, so that nothing could survive. It was said that it could kill people as well but no one knew exactly how. There were also accounts of the dark horde and their master but no one could decide on what they looked like.

Some claimed that an army of the dead suddenly came to life and raided their homes. Others claimed there were only three skeletons responsible for the destruction. Yet there were other accounts of a single skeleton covered in the dark fortress' corruption with black tendrils. No one wanted to talk about this one any more than they had to though.

You hadn't known what to make of the accounts at first, but the deeper you and your comrades pressed into enemy territory, the more truth they seemed to hold. Thankfully, the Royal Scientist had found a way to counteract the majority of the corruption's effects, so as long as the protective coating on your armour remained intact, you would be safe.

It didn't ease your anxiety though and you knew that your comrades were also suffering from restlessness. It had been days since you had even been in combat, even longer since killing anything, and you just wanted to get this over with.

You weren't particularly bloodthirsty but even you had to admit that you secretly enjoyed the rush that came whenever a person died by your hand. It wasn't something that you went out of your way to do, even though being a soldier often put you in those situations. Everyone knew that while sometimes unavoidable, gaining EXP and especially LV, was a slippery slope to insanity. And so during basic training, it was stressed that it was preferable to incapacitate your foes and only kill as a last resort.

You emerged from your tent and stretched your limbs. It seemed like a few of your fellow soldiers were already up and about, which meant another day of marching was upon you. At least you were within sight of the dark fortress now. It wouldn't be long before you would be able to hear the satisfying sound of your meteor hammer crushing bones and inhale the scent of fresh blood again.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Breaching the gate had been difficult but not impossible.

There had been a small horde of tall black skeletons but against the heavily armoured likes of your fellow guardsmen, they were soon cut down. While the skeletons had also been heavily armoured and wielded greataxes, a well placed blow was pretty much all it took to fell them. Even you managed to take one down, although its body didn't turn to dust and simply faded away, and you didn't even get any EXP from it.

That was strange but not unusual if they were merely summons and not actual monsters. Still, whoever summoned them must have an immense mana pool, especially if they were also the one who'd created the dark fortress in the first place.

The moment you and your fellow soldiers entered the courtyard, you were suddenly set upon by three assailants. They were fast, and with how easily they could dodge attacks or appear behind you, must have some form of instant teleportation ability.

You were forced to fight back to back with Sir Draco, which meant your ranged attacks were less effective since you had to be mindful of your meteor hammer's arc. Your own mana was limited so you were forced to fend off blows with your trusty dagger, which you normally only used for finishing off your enemies.

The three skeletons looked similar, like they could be cousins, but at the same time they were quite different from each other. They were on a whole other level from the dark hordes earlier and you were starting to worry that this could soon turn hairy.

Greater and Lesser Dog were currently taking on a giant of skeleton who had half his skull caved in, a blood red eyelight in his left socket, and wielded a massive, wicked-looking greataxe. He wore a suit of mismatched armour of various materials and styles that had been pieced together seemingly at random. It looked to be mostly plate and hide armour though.

Captain Undyne and Sir Bunbun were holding off a wiry skeleton, who had what looked like corruption pouring out of his eye sockets, a crimson glowing target floating above his chest, and wielded nothing but a cruel dagger as well as his own magic against them. He wore a form-fitting suit of black leather armour that was reminiscent of what the former Shiftingtails Kingdom's scouts used to wear.

You and Sir Draco were focusing on a shorter skeleton who was constantly switching between bone attacks and trying to stab both of you with a well-polished shortsword. He had red eyelights but the left one also had a ring of blue and he wore a red cuirass with a hood and dusty chainmail over top.

"Fall back!" You heard Captain Undyne shout. "We can't let them separate us!"

You and your comrades began shifting towards the gate in an attempt to keep them from attacking your flanks. Although, you'd only taken a few steps when your nose caught a particularly familiar scent. It was sharp, earthy and yet sweet at the same time - the exact scent from your dreams. But where was it coming from?

You noticed a flicker of red out of the corner of your eye and just managed to dodge yet another strike from the hooded skeleton. He scowled and you bared your teeth in response before he darted out of your reach again. He smelled like smoke and death so it certainly wasn't him.

"Come on, pup. If we don't move now, they'll cut us off from the others," Sir Draco rumbled as he blocked another volley of bone bullets with his shield.

You sniffed the air intently, barely hearing what he'd said. That scent...they were here somewhere... Your soulmate was here!

Without really thinking, you darted off in the direction that you were certain the scent was coming from, disregarding the fact that you were also running away from your comrades. You just managed to dodge a bone bullet the hooded skeleton summoned, although it did graze your side. You could hear Undyne shouting at you to return but you didn't listen and kept running. It seemed like no one was actually chasing after you but you could still hear the clash of weapons at the gate, so maybe your comrades had kept them occupied?

The scent was coming from further inside the fortress and only grew stronger the further you ventured, until you managed to slip into a dark building and close the door behind you.

Your paws were great at muffling your footsteps and thanks to your nose, you knew that you were close to the source of the scent. You stepped cautiously around furniture and through passageways until you entered the largest library you'd ever seen.

There was light here, from various lanterns and candles peppered throughout the room, which you were grateful for since you couldn't really see in the dark, although you couldn't help but feel uneasy. You slipped between bookshelves and your ears twitched as you strained to hear the slightest sound. Other than the clinking of the length of chain in your paws and that of your own armour, everything seemed quiet.

Too quiet.

The scent was everywhere and you were starting to have a hard time pinpointing which direction to keep moving in. The fur on the back of your neck suddenly stood on end and you quickly turned, only to come face to face with another skeleton.

He was covered in corruption and four tendrils undulated restlessly behind his back. He wore no armour but underneath the black ooze he seemed to be wearing fancy clothing. He had a gold circlet on his skull and a single cyan eyelight in his left eye socket, as his right was covered by the ooze.

You had barely registered his appearance when he lashed out with his tentacles, slamming you against a nearby bookshelf. You let out a yelp from the impact and heard your meteor hammer clatter to the ground as you lost your grip on the chain.

"Who let a mutt into my home?" the skeleton hissed.

You squirmed but your attempts to escape only caused his tendrils to coil tighter around your body, until it was difficult to breathe.

He drew closer until you were only a few inches apart and narrowed his good eye socket at you. "Are you even a soldier?"

Your eyes widened as it occurred to you that the smell that had haunted you for years was from him. He was your soulmate. Him...the one who'd overthrown an entire country singlehandedly was your one and only.

You pawed at the tendrils around your body. "You're... You're the one..." you managed to gasp.

His smile widened and he let out an amused chuckle. "I'm what? I assure you that whatever you're about to say, I've heard it all before." He let out a sigh and loosened the grasp his tentacles had on you ever so slightly. "But I suppose I can humour you a little bit..."

You couldn't help but cough the moment you could breath properly again. After taking in several lungfuls of air, you looked up at him before trying to explain.

"You're the one I've been dreaming about all my life. My soulmate..."

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a minute. He raised his bonebrows slightly but otherwise showed no further reaction to this revelation.

"Well... That's actually a new one." He chuckled and stepped back a bit but noticeably didn't let go of you. "My apologies, it seems I underestimated you slightly. You're amusing at the very least..."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I'm serious! I've been looking for so long and now I've actually found you."

He rolled his eyelight before giving you an odd look. "I don't believe you. I don't have a soulmate," he muttered.

"Of course you do! I wouldn't have sought you out if we weren't meant to be together!"

"It's not possible, alright?"

"But-"

His tendrils suddenly constricted once more, although your ability to breath wasn't as impeded this time. You couldn't possibly break out of his hold now and you were all but forced to stay still.

"I mean it," he growled. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to tell me the truth, understand?"

"Yeah, okay. Just, not so tight please?"

He pointedly ignored your request as if you hadn't said anything at all. "Why are you actually here?"

"My comrades and I were ordered to investigate this place and if possible, take down the source of the corruption. Although, it seems that's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am. My name is Lord Donovan, the new ruler of this land." There was a twinge of pride in his voice and he puffed out his ribcage slightly. "Where are your comrades?"

You didn't like how ominous his tone sounded but there was no reason to lie to him. "They're probably still fighting your men at the gate, at least they were before I caught your scent and sought you out."

He gave you an incredulous look. "You broke rank on the off chance that I was your so called soulmate? What a foolish thing to do, almost as foolish as coming here in the first place."

You wrinkled your nose and let out a frustrated huff. "You are my soulmate!" you growled. "How many times do I have to tell you that before it gets through your thick skull?!"

He abruptly yanked you closer until your foreheads were nearly touching, but so that he was leering down at you. "Listen well, mutt. I am not your soulmate. I am an entity of pure hatred and spite. I am incapable of love or any remotely positive feeling for that matter."

"S-surely there's a way to find out?" you whimpered.

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Yes, there is a divination ritual that can be performed, but such a thing takes time, something you don't have right now."

You squirmed in his grip. "I don't need some fancy ritual to prove that you're wrong. If you just, let me go for a moment, I'll show you."

He eyed you warily before taking a glance around the library. "Fine, but don't try anything. I would prefer if you didn't ruin any of these tomes with your useless dust."

You gave him a curt nod, although the casual threat wasn't lost on you. "Same goes for you."

He released his tendrils, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground but you managed to land your feet. After straightening your armour and retrieving the weapon you'd dropped earlier, you turned back to him again.

Lord Donovan stood with arms crossed and a critical expression on his face. "I'm surprised that you would risk turning your back on an enemy," he commented.

You chuckled, "Well, you just said that you didn't want to ruin these books."

He narrowed his eye socket. "I could've lied..."

You snorted but chose not to needle him further. Instead, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before pressing a paw against your chestplate.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm baring my soul to you. What does it look like?" you retorted.

You could feel him judging you but he made no move to interrupt. "You're a fool," he finally stated.

You ignored him and drew your soul out, letting the upside down white heart float lazily in your palm. It wasn't perfect like it had once been but the faint cracks spoke of the many battles you'd survived to get to this point. You could even see your stats, which was only further proof of your strength and the deeds you'd committed for it.

When you met his gaze again, you noticed that he looked a bit uncomfortable. His permanent grin had fallen and he was doing his best not to look at your soul directly. He actually reminded you a little of a bashful child at the moment.

"How does this," he vaguely gestured at you, "actually prove anything?"

You had to grit your teeth to keep from laughing at him. Had he never been taught how these things worked? Even an eight year old could understand the significance of baring your soul to your fated.

"The frequency of our souls are the same and that means we are soulmates," you responded.

He scoffed at that. "I'm not showing you my soul."

"Come on... If you'll just do this one thing, you'll know that I'm right!"

He frowned and shook his skull.

"Please, I'm not trying to trick you..." When he made no move to respond, you sighed and held out your paws. "I understand that you don't trust me; I probably wouldn't either if I was in your position. You can hold my hands if you want, I promise I won't hurt you."

He eyed them for a moment. "Fine...but on one condition..."

You nodded vigorously, "Of course!"

"If you really want to see my soul, then I can't have you leave, at least not alive... Are you actually willing to give up everything, including your friends and family, on something as improbable as being soulmates?"

"With all due respect, I am a soldier. I live each day as if it were my last, as does my family. When I was ordered to come here, I did so knowing that I likely wouldn't return and if this is the price I must pay to find my soulmate, then I am willing."

He seemed to consider your words for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His cyan eyelight flickered for a moment before a new look crossed his face. It almost seemed like one of respect but you couldn't entirely be sure.

"Very well then, if you're certain you won't live to regret it."

He hesitated for a moment but when you didn't pull away, he stepped closer and coiled two of his tendrils around your wrists. His grip was firm but surprisingly gentle and he lifted your paws over your head, so there was no way for you to attack him. In this position, your height discrepancy was much more obvious and you felt rather small next to him.

You felt completely exposed like this, even though you were still wearing your armour. Having your soul floating freely with no way to shield it from anyone else's eyes was honestly a little terrifying. He could strike you down in an instant and there wouldn't be anything you could do about it.

Lord Donovan brought his hand to his ribcage, mimicking the gesture you had made earlier. He focused for a second before pulling his own soul from his body. It wasn't shaped anything like you'd expected, instead it was more oblong than heart-shaped, much like the cross section of an apple. It was jet black with a cyan flare around the edges and seemed like it too was coated in corruption like the rest of his body.

You couldn't help but find his soul oddly beautiful but you kept your comments to yourself for a moment. Instead, you watched him calmly for what he'd do next.

He seemed to be contemplating something before gingerly bringing his soul closer to your own. You were thankful that he didn't let them touch, instead holding it a few inches away.

You waited with baited breath.

At first, your souls simply floated there, slowly thrumming with latent mana.

Suddenly you felt an intense pulse pass through your soul.

It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, although slightly similar to the high that you'd experienced a few times when your LV increased, except way better. There was a rush of power but also a strong euphoric feeling that made all your uneasiness ebb away.

Donovan seemed utterly stunned. His cyan eyelight had shrunk down at least two sizes and he stood stock still like a statue.

"You felt that?" you whispered, although you couldn't keep yourself from grinning like a maniac.

He seemed completely at a loss for words and it took him a moment to even register that you'd asked a question at all. "I... Yes...I felt that..."

"Do you believe me now?"

"You were right about the frequency being the same..." He finally tore his gaze away from your souls and gave you an intense look. "You can't leave me."

You chuckled and tried to move your arms, only to remember that he still had you restrained. "A deal's a deal. I saw your soul and we're soulmates now; seems fair to me."

"Indeed..." he murmured, before guiding his soul back into his ribcage. You noticed that he hesitated to do the same for you.

You chuckled softly at his apparent awkwardness. "I can do it myself if you'd rather not, you'll just have to let me go first."

"No, it's fine..." He took great care not to graze your soul with his claws as he returned it to it's proper place in your chest. His movements were rather stiff though, almost like he was handling fine china and was afraid of smashing it.

His hand lingered for a moment, as if he was debating if he should actually touch you or not, before pulling away. "Forgive me...but this is a lot to take in at the moment. I never thought-" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "I never even asked for your name..."

You smiled and told him your name as his tendrils around your arms loosened, allowing you to lower them back to your sides, but not actually letting go just yet. The tips wound softly through your fingers like they were curious or maybe they just wanted to hold you like a lover might.

"I suppose there is still the matter of your former comrades." He looked off in the direction you thought the gate was in before asking a question. "How would you prefer I deal with them?"

You felt your heartbeat quicken. "I'd prefer they leave with their lives, but knowing Captain Undyne, she wouldn't give up until every one of her men got out safely."

"That poses a problem," he hummed and tapped his mandible thoughtfully. "As my own won't quit until they eliminate all resistance."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe I could talk to my comrades and convince them to leave?"

"No." His expression darkened and he turned back to you. "They won't leave if they see that you're alive."

"So what do we do?"

He thought for a moment before turning to leave the library, tugging you along with his tentacles. "I have an idea, come with me."

You let out a small yip as you nearly stumbled over your own hind feet while trying to follow him. He spared you a glance over his shoulder but kept quickly moving through the dark passageways. He did mercifully let go of one of your arms so you would have a bit more balance though.

He led you into a room that, from the shelves of tonics and the racks of drying herbs, reminded you of an apothecary. The various herbs and ingredients all melded together into a slightly musty smell that you weren't fond of.

Donovan pulled a specific vial down from the shelf and brought it over to the work bench. You walked over and leaned against it to see what he was doing. After adding a few ingredients and swirling it together, he turned back to you.

"I need you to trust me..." He trailed off and glanced away before muttering, "Not that I've done anything to deserve your trust so far..."

You gave him a gentle smile and stepped closer to put your paw on his arm. He inadvertently jumped at the contact but didn't pull away.

"Of course I trust you. Whatever your plan is, I'll go along with it."

His bonebrows furrowed and he lightly stroked the fur on the side of your face with his claws. "Can I have your dagger?"

"I'm surprised you even noticed I had one," you chuckled as you drew the blade from its sheath and held it out to him.

He hummed and took it from your grasp. "I think you'll find that there isn't much that escapes my attention." He eyed the sharp edge for a moment before glancing back at you. "How attached are you to this?"

You frowned slightly. Your dagger wasn't too special to the naked eye but it had served you well ever since you'd been gifted it after your first successful mission. Even though it wasn't your primary weapon, any of your comrades would recognize it as yours if they saw it.

"It's just a dagger," you answered. "It's a small sacrifice to be with you forever."

He watched you for a moment before nodding. "Very well. This will hurt, but I'm only going to do what's necessary for you to be free of them."

You felt his tendrils coil around your body, cradling and holding you in place. He caressed your face and seemed to study your eyes for a second longer. You took a steadying breath and nodded.

And then he ran you through with the dagger.

You should've found something to bite down on before agreeing to this but your scream of pain was cut off when he abruptly yanked you into a kiss. It was a rough kiss and, if he wasn't holding you in place, you might've fallen over from the forcefulness.

He pulled away quickly and pressed the vial to your lips. It had a harsh taste but you managed to get it down without choking. Almost immediately, you felt an odd warmth flood your body and your eyelids began to grow heavy.

Lord Donovan laid you down on a bed that hadn't been in the room and you wondered if he'd brought you somewhere else. You knew he'd just inflicted what would normally be a mortal wound but somehow your body wasn't falling to pieces. If it weren't for the pain and sudden exhaustion, you probably could've run a mile. Whatever was in that tonic was obviously far stronger than any healing potion you'd ever been able to afford.

Your gaze met his own and when you held eye contact, he seemed relieved. He still held your dagger but it was thoroughly coated in what you instinctively knew was your own dust so that not even the handle was spared. He then took it in two of his tendrils and snapped the blade in half, as if it were nothing but a twig and not hardened steel.

Your shocked expression must've been concerning as he frowned and moved closer to you again. He combed his claws through the fur between your ears in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry, but this needs to be as convincing as possible if they are to leave and not return in some foolhardy attempt to rescue you."

You swallowed thickly and managed to nod.

"Rest now, I will deal with them myself. You have my word that they won't be unnecessarily harmed."

You were out before he even left the room.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

You awoke to the sound of several unknown voices. There was a loud voice that spoke the most and the fastest, a softer and more raspy voice that occasionally answered the first's questions, and then there was a third much deeper voice who only spoke in clipped one word answers. They immediately fell quiet as soon as they realized that you were awake.

When you risked cracking open your eyes, you came face to face with one of the skeletons from earlier, specifically the one that had corruption leaking from his eye sockets. His skull took up most of your field of view but you could just barely make out the other two skeletons near the doorway.

"well well, look who's finally awake~" he teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I suppose so. Now can you back up a bit?"

He smirked but mercifully stepped away from the bed so you could sit up. Your armour had been removed at some point although you were still wearing your tunic. You would likely need new gear after Donovan stabbed you anyways, but you didn't like being in the same room as three very dangerous people while unprotected.

There was still some pain but you seemed perfectly fine otherwise. Maybe later you'd have to check where the wound had been to see how it had healed. You could feel that a bandage had been wrapped around your abdomen but that was all that seemed to have happened.

"so, word is you and the boss are thick as thieves all of the sudden..."

You glanced up at him sharply. There was no point in denying it but should you really tell them why he'd spared your life?

He chuckled and glanced over at the other two, who seemed like they could care less. "we've just been dying to meet you, haven't we?"

The large skeleton huffed and the hooded one merely rolled his eyelights.

He didn't seem phased by their lackluster enthusiasm and soon turned back to you again. "you got a name then, cutie?" he asked way too sweetly.

You raised your head and squared your shoulders before introducing yourself.

"aw, it suits you!" He grinned, although it was a tad too wide. "i suppose introductions are in order then..."

"the big guy goes by maul," he said and pointed him out to you. He bent down to whisper in your ear, "he doesn't talk much, but between you and me, it's rumoured that he used to be the headsman during the coup in the horrur kingdom."

You believed it. The way you'd seen him swing that greataxe was proof enough of his strength. You were curious how he got the head wound if he was just the executor, but you weren't about to ask.

Maul's single red eyelight observed you coolly before he nodded slightly. At least he didn't seem like he wanted to tear you apart right away.

"mr. broody goes by reven." He directed your attention to the skeleton in question before repeating what he'd done earlier. "pretty sure he still wears his old paladin armour, despite breaking his oath after his brother got dusted. he's the one responsible for the crimson stabbings, didn't you know?"

You pulled the sheets slightly closer and swallowed nervously. You remembered how afraid everyone had been during that time and how at a loss your superiors had been. The murders had gone on for years before just stopping without any conclusion being reached.

Reven narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously but he seemed to like the effect that his supposed reputation had on you.

"it's actually kinda impressive you held him off for as long as you did back there~"

Reven scowled at his loud mouthed compatriot's words and crossed his arms. You certainly didn't feel proud of yourself and if it wasn't for Sir Draco, you knew he would've overwhelmed you quickly.

Trying to distract yourself, you turned to the last unnamed skeleton in the room, who was still a bit to close for your comfort. "And who are you?" you asked.

"You can call me Dirk, or anything else you feel partial to~" He practically beamed at the revelation that you were even remotely interested in his backstory. "I used to run with some brigands and we made a decent killing for a while. Although, I was always meant for something more than that boring life so I killed them instead."

You didn't know what you had been expecting but how flippant he was about committing murder was more than a little unsettling. You really shouldn't have been so surprised though.

"Your armour doesn't belong to you, does it?" you asked carefully.

"oh yeah." He grinned before adding, "i stabbed a guy for it!"

You ran a hand down your face and sighed. "Of course, why did I think you would've done anything otherwise?"

In an effort to change the subject, you glanced at the others and asked a different question. "What happened to...my companions?"

Neither Maul nor Reven seemed interested in answering although the latter suppressed a small chuckle.

Dirk pulled a face and shook his skull. "they ran like cowards," he muttered.

You frowned. "That doesn't sound quite right. Are you sure?"

"well... the fish lady got pretty mad when the boss revealed that you were 'dead'..." He made finger quotes and chuckled. "she actually tried to fight him but he taught her a lesson real quick."

Reven chuckled as well. "she had to be hauled away by the rest of them..." he muttered under his breath.

You felt your heart drop. Donovan had promised that he wouldn't kill them, but you still couldn't help feeling concerned. What if she succumbed to her injuries before getting to safety?

"hey."

You glanced over at Dirk and immediately noticed that his permanent grin had fallen slightly.

"how do we know that you didn't just trick the boss into thinking you two are... what's it called?" he paused for emphasis before continuing, "soulmates, or some other dumb crap?"

He took a step closer to the bed and you inadvertently tried to back away from him. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the other two had seemed to take interest as well. Maul stayed by the door, although his grin widened in an unsettling way and he crossed his arms. Reven narrowed his eye sockets and took a few steps closer.

"Of course not! I wouldn't-"

Your protest was cut off when Donovan suddenly materialized on your other side. The boys paused and turned to look at him, although at first he said nothing and shot each of them a look of displeasure. Without saying a word, he wrapped your body up in a few of his tendrils and pulled you closer to him.

"If any of you so much as look at my soulmate wrong, I will not hesitate to strip your souls from your miserable bodies and torment you for eternity," he growled quietly.

You felt a shiver run down your spine but his threat seemed to have an effect on the boys. Maul glanced away and Reven seemed to visibly deflate. Dirk seemed to grow uncomfortable but outwardly didn't appear intimidated.

Donovan eyed each of them for several long seconds before he turned to you and seemed to visibly relax. He gave you what was supposed to be a comforting smile but it still looked a little scary on him.

"I didn't go for a killing blow but holding back is a little difficult for me. She'll probably just lose an eye if treated properly," he stated. His tone came across as pretty ominous but you did feel some relief that he'd at least attempted to keep his word.

"Thank you, I appreciate that you still tried."

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Later, once you were properly healed, Dirk approached you in the common area while you were attempting to salvage what you could from your old armour. You inadvertently tensed up but he flashed you a smile that was probably supposed to look friendly.

"so, i've been thinking," he started to say.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's worrying," you responded with an awkward laugh.

Across the room, you heard Reven snicker but he didn't bother trying to join in.

Dirk's smile grew wider. "heh... anyways, each of us has a place on the team. maul is the muscle, reven is good with both melee and ranged fighting, and i'm the assassin but i dabble in ranged attacks too. so, what do you do?"

You took a moment to think it over. You wanted to get along with them and if proving yourself a competent teammate would help, you were determined to do your best.

"Well, I'm generally a forward scout but I'm more than capable of holding my own in melee combat."

Dirk nodded, "fun! i guess we'll have to eventually come up with a nickname for you." He held out his hand and tilted his skull all the while smirking at you. "welcome to the dark fortress."

You grasped his hand and smiled. Maybe you'd like being here a lot more than you originally thought.

Notes:

A meteor hammer is kind of like a flail. It is a weapon with one or two weights attached to a length of chain. It may be impractical, but I had a distinct mental picture of MC swinging it around that I loved.

Donovan is an Irish name and means dark warrior.

Maul is actually named after the weapon of the same name (although the verb is kinda fitting too!).

Reven is short for revenant and a nod to one of the coolest characters in Star Wars (Darth Revan).

Dirk is named for a type of dagger.

Did you catch what kingdom was taken over by Donovan and his gang? I had a hard time coming up with one that made sense so Storyshift it was. In this world, each AU is its own kingdom, meaning pretty much every major AU can and probably does exist somewhere or somehow.

[catgirlscout]

Hello dear fellow tf2 enjoyers. Have you recently craved for a ridiculously passionate, drawn-out, self-indulgent and at times horny, Fantasy AU of your favorite old men (and Scout and Pyro)? Including magic, wizards, dragons, knights with fancy swords and armor, having sex with said knights, found family, vampires and other mythical creatures. Oh boy, then do I have the FanFiction for you. Read The Fortresses (Medieval Mercs AU) on Ao3!!!!!!

Anyway Schleichwerbung aside, I would be really happy if you would check out my fanfic. There's some sketches and the map from the world building. I am putting a lot of work into it and I am very, very much in love. It's mostly for my own self enjoyment, so the updates are kinda irregular but the chapters are relatively short and easy to read. I just posted the newest chapter (Chapter 3) and I have a set outline for at least the next three chapters. Also, there are some really cool ships in this. The main ones are BLUDemo x REDScout, REDSniper x BLUSpy, REDSpy x BLUEngie, Heavy x Medic, BLUSniper x BLUScout, Soldier x Merasmus, Saxton Hale x Mr. Bidwell, Administrator x Miss Pauling. And there's even a bunch of OCs (mainly Scout's brothers) and children of OG mercs. There is to say there will be smut in this fanfiction, which will be relevant to the story and I don't know how explicit it will gonna get. But looking at my notes there will definitely be some SniperSpy, HeavyMedic and SoldierMerasmus fuckery in earlier chapters. And most definitely SpeedingBullet and Saxwell in the later ones as the story progresses. So yeah...hope anybody is looking forward to that. I sure am. In the meantime I also have a lot of other fanfics finished and actually exactly 20 wips currently. I lack any sort of self control. Help!

That's it. Enjoy your day!

Btw the map was made with Inkarnate. I literally put my whole Scoutussy into that map, it took like 9 hours to make. But it was completely free because I am a cheap whore.

[chiangyorange]

dear fellow soldier, as awful as it is to say, i miss you on the fields.

(merry christmas!!! heres angst. your present is angst.)

<

[mrmissmrsrandom]

My 2024 Fics

Got this idea from my friend @damoselcastel and thought it would be fun to look back on my fics from this year. Quite a bit of them were written by request, fundraising, or commission, but I always like to think about them. :) You can find them all on my Ao3 page.

Out, out, brief candle: An FE4 Bloom and Hilda-centric fic written in request for the FE Rally for Gaza. It was the first time for me writing either of them, despite my love for Friege Family Nonsense. It was so interesting exploring them as flawed people, whose best intentions (or selfish wants) lead to everything in their personal lives crumbling even before the Liberation Army or Leif's Army get involved.

A Lioness Among Dragons: Another Rally for Gaza piece, this time requested by my friend and long-time fellow Jugdral brainworms haver @dithorba. Exploring an Azelle!Nanna raised by Arvis is such a fascinating concept, as she's honestly one of the only second gen children I can see withstanding the imperial court. It also was cool thinking about how Loptous!Julius would imprint on her in a similar but contrasting way to his possessiveness toward Ishtar.

Forbidden Sanctuary: (The first explicit work! There will be more!) A work for my dear friend Val in one of our ongoing Arvis/Lukas crackship verses. Has the usual highlights of possession and bodysharing, and I got to dip my 'pen' more into thinking about monsterfucking, even if in here its mostly centered around trying to escape some trapped ruins. I like returning to this verse since its the one firmly placed in the Urban Fantasy genre.

Loopholes: This time a full request from the "Out, out, brief candle" requester @/blueharmonix on twitter, and another fun one: exploring Kempf, the meme, the bitch, the legend--- and how goddamn twisted up he is about Reinhardt, and also imagining a way for FE5 to happen where together they learn to not be completely culpable soldiers in the empire's war machine. It was fun trying to balance how both of them would react differently to the same inciting event.

Dispersal: Another addition to mine and @charisu's Arthur/Hawk-centric verse, or "that canonsubkiddo AU." I liked thinking about more familial dynamics, both by blood and by marriage, and how different perspectives can add insight and assistance. A lot of this work is centered around Hawk and a recently de-stoned Azelle being gardening buddies, which was also fun. :)

Budding Union: An attempt at a short, sweet, and sexy friends to lovers with FE16 Mercedes and Annette confessing to each other on the eve of the final battle for Monse. I had written them before as a couple in some way, but it was nice thinking about that inbetween of a crush and a fully "matured" love.

Ball Seirce: Hoping I can return to this fic in 2025! I kept thinking of an idea that it felt strange to me that Tine wasn't betrothed or married off to anyone based on how it played a factor in Friege family dynamics (or at least an attempt) to gain political position, and I really love Tine/Altena, so I thought about the "Diarmuid of the Love Spot" and how that initial premise of becoming attracted to someone intended for your (much older) relative would be cool. Plus, I just want to think about Tine and Travant interacting, as that would be so curious: an underaged waif to a much older lord, which is the premise of many, many different varieties of stories, but Travant is only marrying Tine for the grain her dowry provides, and Tine is honestly?? Much safer??? In Travant's court? Its FASCINATING.

The Lion in Winter: I finally, FINALLY, finished my FE15 "30 years later" fanfic. I was so happy to finally get everything that I had been thinking about the final few chapters and reveals out to the world. Despite the gaps in writing time, I think my writing matured throughout. I love this verse so much, and hearing from readers that they enjoyed how Alm and Lukas's relationship changed and developed alongside all the side characters (and even my OCs!) interacted felt so satisfying that I was able to do that haha. Honestly, if you pick any fic from this lot that is only mine, please take a chance on this one.

Memories of Teatime: First fic I have written from Tailtiu's (especially early years to exile in Silesse Tailtiu's) perspective, and it was a delight. FE4, especially Gen 1, just has this overhang of somberness that I think suits Tailtiu's character, even if she is usually outwardly rambunctious and positive. It was also nice exploring an early romance for her and Lex. :)

Ensiege: A Leif and Miranda friendship fic!!! Monse gave me the opportunity to write a time for the two of them to actually TALK, which I think helps a lot. That also paired with the headcanon of Miranda being Ethnia of Friege's child is so fun (I've accepted that I cannot and will not escape Friege Family Nonsense. Its in my bones.)

Lure: A request from a NSFW meme prompt with Asahoku (Arthur/Hawk). Thinking about how to bring magic into the bedroom and connecting it with the prompt choices was a delight. My interpretation of Hawk is he usually tries to follow the lead of his partner, but he's also a bit of a freak lmao.

Brothers in Arms: Alec and Naoise fwb!! Not much to say about this one besides wanting to write something with Naoise in it for a friend and that it was fun.

Strung Up: The final of the NSFW request drabbles that is NSFW. Fernand longs to be a Third in any relationship he is near, imo. Berkut and Rinea can scent his longing from a mile away, and unlike blissfully unaware Clive and Mathilda they take advantage of it. It's fun placing the usually most outwardly "prim" and obsessed with image among the nobility in the FE15 cast as a toy.

Like Moths to a Flame: Thanks to @dornishsphinx for showing me the aching beauty that is Sonya/Rinea post-FE15. They were on the fringes of two of my other FE15 stories at this point, but the For You My Heart Zine let me fully realize a story for them, and explore a little more the struggles of trying to keep one's identity without your actual "soul." (technically written mostly in 2023, but only officially released this year).

Dewdrops: I watched Princess Tutu for the first time in 2024 thanks to dame, and it was WONDERFUL. I see why people recommend it alongside Revolutionary Girl Utena, even if it goes in its own directions and themes. This is just some sweet Fakiru thinking about the what-if Duck got to become human again and them having an ear piercing session (bc Fakiru, as the kids say, is Yuri---)

Basking in the Glow: A collaboration with @damoselcastel! I really got attached to Alear and Pandreo, and imagining how a post-FE17 would interact with so MANY Alears while ultimately missing his actual husband was both fun and sweet.

Tightrope: And FE5 AU where Jeanne is raised as Leif's body double and thinking about her, Leif, and Finn together makes me pace the room and tear my hair out (in a good way). Finn unable to accept himself as Leif's dad bc that can't be his job, pushing his own damage onto Jeanne knowingly, even though it hurts, because that's the only way he can think to protect Leif, and Jeanne somehow able to come to her own actualization regardless, when FINN never could. Oooggghhhhfff. Thank you @charisu I want to keep gnawing on this story idea like a bone.

In darkness, consumed: The Arkas vampire AU!!! I have so much lore for this story lmao. My friend Val just lets me indulge in my writing so much and I appreciate that. One day I'll get a commission of Fruit Bat Monster Lukas.

Close and Closer: A Suzume fic since I watched the film for the first time this year! I'm weird with Makoto Shinkai films in that I watched Children who Chase Lost Voices near the end of high school and got too utterly wrecked to want to check out any of his other works, but Suzume was a delight. Despite all the jokes about the chair and the initial concept, Suzume and Souta's bond was so strong by the end that I could really see a future with them together. This is a little steamy "what if" with them still early in their relationship and learning to communicate their wants with each other without being afraid of being "too much."

Rituals and Reaffirmations: Recently finished this one! My gift for a P4 Protag/Yosuke Hanamura secret santa exchange. I can't believe this was my first official Persona 4 fic! But I really love the game and the characters in it, and since I replayed P4 Golden throughout this year I wanted to contribute. Hopefully more for this game and P3 in the future. The fic itself was fun, and it felt so easy to imagine the dialogue and ribbing between the characters haha.

Bedfellows: My latest and likely last fic for 2024! Another request from Monse. It was nice thinking about Tailtiu and Lachesis's dynamic in this work, and how they could relate but also be affectionate in their own ways. A very fluffy and sexy end to 2024 lmao.

Wow, looking back on it, quite a bit of oneshots this year! The main project that I've been working on behind the scenes the past couple of months should by released in March, so that's something to look forward to, and I'm sure I have plenty of The Lion in Winter-related Oneshots and another exchange fic that'll show up in the first half of 2025.

Thank you to everyone who has read and played dolls with me, and here's hoping to continue in 2025!

[whosthere54]

So I wanted to say some songs that remind me of Fable SMP so thats what this post is if ur interested.

I was going to just do Fable SMP overall but after I made some character playlists I wanted to do all characters :]

(If ur interested in those I'll leave the playlist names next to the characters they are on Spotify :] All by 🎧Who’sThere?🎧 if you look for them)

There are listed two songs for each.

Fable in General -

Inkpot Gods - The Amazing Devil

Hell's Comin' With me - Poor Man's Poison

(Also Nothing's New - Rio Romeo)

Character songs :] -

Icarus -

Absinthe - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Little Lion man - Mumford and Sons

(Special mentions to songs titled Icarus)

Playlist - If I'm not alone, then what am I doing here? (C!Icarus FableSMP)

Centross -

A sadness runs through him - The Hoosiers

Just A Man - Jorge Rivera-Herrans (Epic the Musical)

Playlist - Remember Them (Centross FableSMP)

Wolf/Fenris -

Tounges & Teeth - The Crane Wives

That Unwanted Animal - The Amazing Devil

Rae -

could you love me while I hate myself - Zeph

Body Terror Song - AJJ

(Shoutout to Dead Mom from the Beetlejuice Musical /hj/lh)

Playlist - For those you love (C!Rae FableSMP)

Caspian/Ghosty -

I Will Wait - Mumford and Sons

Nothing - Bruno Major

Playlist - Lost One (C!Caspian FableSMP)

Aax -

(Also I Will Wait)

Misery Meat - Sodikken

Eighth Wonder - Lemon Demon

Momboo -

Flowers in your hair - The Lumineers

Once Upon a December - Anastasia

Playlist - I know a lady good and Evil (C!Momboo FableSMP)

Jamie -

Wild Heart - Mumford and Sons

The Horror and the Wild - The Amazing Devil

Easton -

Comfort Crowd - Conan Gray

Fine - Lemon Demon

Athena -

Family - Mother Mother

History Hates Lovers - Oublaire

(Also Panic Room - Au/Ra)

Ocie -

Dear Fellow Traveller - Sea Wolf

Pretty Little Things - The Crane Wives

(Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish)

Will -

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

Run Boy run - WoodKid

(Also Come With me - Chxrlotte)

Seven -

I'll Rust with you - Steam Powered Giraffe

Brass Goggles - Also Steam Powered GIraffe

Characters I dont know as well (One song more vibes)

Ven - Running up that hill (Deal With God) - Kate Bush

Ulysses - Wild Blue Yonder - The Amazing Devil

Chaos - Touch the sky - From the brave soundtrack

Galahad - Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos

Addie + Arisanna (I barely know them)

Addie - Spider girl - Shadrow

Arisanna - Come With me - Chxrlotte

(If you want me to do gods/Side Characters/Pets Like this and Ill do another part lol)

Other Fable Playlists of mine -

PrisonDuo (Fable SMP)

Brothers (Fable SMP)

:)

[lola-andheruniverse]

ZA AU/ZA Tuesday - Caryl Fanfiction Rec

Hi, dear fellow carylers! Here's a different take on the CW arc that has a better focus on Hornsby's villainy than the show and an earned endgame for our Daryl and Carol. It has everything from fluff to angst and from hurt to smut. It could've been a fix it rec, but I think all the changes work better as a ZA somewhat AU. Please don't forget to leave a nice review to our author, who is a very enthusiastic and lovely caryler that deserves more attention and love from our fandom. Caryl in the Commonwealth written by @daisyunchained is posted on 9Lives and AO3.

Summary: Daryl and Carol go to the Commonwealth. After some Commonwealth soldiers arrive at Alexandria to help, sent by Yumiko, a small group head to the Commonwealth to check the place out as a possible second home. Carol, Daryl, Rosita, Coco, Jerry, Connie and Kelly. After a misunderstanding, Carol and Daryl are put on the spot making them finally admit their feelings for each other. Fluff and Smut ensues. Also, Carol and Daryl find themselves in the hot seat with Lance Hornsby as they try to infiltrate themselves into the community. They must go to great extents for the good of the community as well as to get Eugene released. Carol must do a lot of the heavy lifting to work the situation to their advantage, much to Daryl's dismay. Read to find out what happens next.

Rated: E Word count: 58.338 (18 chapters) Published: January 23, 2022 (complete)

[karlyanalora]

oh how about First Aid for the Character Ask!! —cmofirstaid

Hi!

First impression

So, I first met dear First Aid through fanfic. My impression of him was sweet uwu baby. You can fit so much trauma in him and he will still be a cinnamon roll.

Impression now

Having now met IDW1 Aid: He’s weird, and complaining about people is his love language. Despite being a medic, he really doesn’t handle death well. At least, not when he knew the patient. Probably a good thing he was posted on Delphi and not on a base where you know the soldiers. I could see this one killing people besides Pharma. He’s become more ruthless over the course of the series. Not cruel, just a direct point A to point B. Like door surgery.

Favorite moment

I don’t think I have one. There’s a lot that can be done with Aid, but his moments in MTME/LL (the only place I’ve seen him so far) tend to fade into the background. That being said, I think my favorite moment was when Velocity shared what he’d told her about Ratchet.

Idea for a story

So TFA First Aid, according to the Complete Allspark Almanac, is the medic version of Bumblebee’s frametype. He was picked for that reason by Sentinel Magnus to be a Protectobot, given a fancy badge and everything, because Sentinel wants his own version of Optimus’ crew. (He thinks it will make him more popular.)

I’d explore how his time working for Sentinel sucks. What it’s like to be living propaganda. His relationship with his fellow Protectobots, like Groove (motorcycle) the TFA Prowl stand in, and Hot Spot (firetruck), a war veteran meant to stand in for Optimus Prime.

Unpopular opinion

I think First Aid should have had his license temporarily suspended. His obsession with Ambulon’s body was a clear cry for help. He might have vehemently denied it, but Aid needed help. Ratchet should have, at the very least, required Aid to work with Rung. To actually get him to put in the work to deal with his issues, Ratchet should have probably suspended his license until Rung said he was actually working to improve. Sure, Aid would have probably had a temporary “I’ve given up” phase, but he’d get over it. Rung might be overly concerned with First Aid’s badge obsession, and Aid would never tell him the truth behind it. But eventually, Rung would realize it wasn’t hurting anybody and move on.

Favorite relationship

Tbh, I don’t think Aid has any in IDW. Just acquaintances. Which he really needs to fix. I love reading fics where he and Ambulon are good friends. And I love it when the Protectobots get explored. But those are AUs. Canonically, I think First Aid is a very lonely guy.

Maybe he and Velocity? I mean, they obviously did talk.

Favorite headcanon

Where First Aid was created as part of a combiner, I think he’s inside the Uncanny Valley. The way he tilts his head and stares at you with that visor of his. The way he can tell you that Blades is in a mood or Hot Spot is stressed without looking up from a patient. Or the way he just assumes you’ll be jiggy if his brothers join you two. It just isn’t natural.

First Aid is nice. But boy, is he Weird.