#for every event or interlude that takes place in a dream

[turn3tifosi]

VIII. our last summer

charles leclerc x model!reader

a summer romance hidden from the cameras and everyone but you and him, a chance at normalcy for you both

series masterlist | main masterlist

The glitz and glamour of the gala could not hide your disinterest. As a famous model, you were no stranger to such events, but tonight, you craved anonymity. Mingling among the elite, you longed for an escape from the flash of cameras and the endless small talk. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on a familiar face. Charles Leclerc, Ferrari's star driver, stood by the bar, looking equally disenchanted, though the only reason you recognised it was because you saw him rolling his eyes. He was a good actor.

You had heard about Charles through the media, admired his prowess on the track, but never had the chance to meet him in person. There was something magnetic about his presence, a shared sense of disconnection from the event. Gathering your courage, you made your way to the bar.

"Not a fan of these things either?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of humour.

Charles looked up, his green eyes meeting yours, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You could say that. They’re always the same, aren't they?"

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. You talked about everything except the worlds you both inhabited – no racing, no modelling. It was a refreshing change, a rare moment of normalcy.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves gravitating towards each other. "I was thinking of taking a walk," Charles suggested. "Care to join me?"

You accepted without hesitation. Outside, Paris was alive with its usual magic. The two of you strolled along the Seine, the city lights reflecting off the water. The cool summer breeze felt liberating. For the first time in a long while, you felt free.

Over the next few days, you and Charles spent every moment together. You sat on the grass near the Eiffel Tower, shared quiet meals in quaint little bistros, and even visited a few hidden gems only the locals knew about. It was a time without worries, without cameras – just the two of you living in the moment.

One afternoon, as you both lounged on the grass, you turned to Charles. "This feels like a dream."

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Then let's not wake up."

The summer break flew by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. It was a time of no regrets, a brief interlude where the world and its expectations melted away. But like all good things, it had to end. The racing season was about to resume, and you had to return to your life as well.

You two decided to not keep in touch. As much as it hurt you both, you knew the relationship would not last long, with both of you constantly travelling. And just because a love doesn’t last forever, doesn’t mean it isn’t love. It was love when he held your hand like he would never let go, and it was love when he let go.

Fast forward a year. The Monaco Grand Prix was in full swing, and you had received an invitation to the Scuderia Ferrari paddock. Dressed impeccably, you walked through the bustling area, heart pounding with anticipation. You hadn’t seen Charles since that summer.

As you entered the paddock, you spotted him immediately. He was surrounded by his team, the epitome of a professional athlete. He glanced your way, a fleeting moment of recognition in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you approached him.

"Charles, it's a pleasure to meet you," you said, extending your hand, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He shook your hand, a polite smile on his face. "Likewise. I've heard so much about you."

The pretence was necessary, you both knew. This was not the time or place to acknowledge your shared past. And perhaps, there was no time or place to acknowledge the past, not when you were both in committed relationships now, and happily so.

[flowering-darkness]

dream interludes: an unintended exchange (Clio/Aria)

After teaming up with an eclectic mix of characters to figure out why the worlds are in disarray, Clio and co. learn that the scattered Jamba Hearts may play a role - and the three mage sisters of Jambandra, plus their apparent subordinate “Rogue”, are hunting the hearts for evil purposes.

One night, just after the party successfully recover their first one, Clio seems to dream of the very foe who has opposed her and the others at every turn so far - but this nightmare doesn’t play out how she expected it to.. (2158 words)

Here is the first of what will be a series of scenes from Origins, an RP I’m part of that features both Aria (my self-insert) and Clio (my KHUX OC)! I am very grateful to @mark-seins for allowing me to be so self-indulgent here.. but it’s also something with fun potential for later plot points, so =3

This is technically very pre-relationship, and the particular version of arilio for this story is going to be very much enemies-to-lovers, but.. it still felt like something I could post here as well, so I hope it’s alright that I do. I’m happy to explain any part of it if anyone wants me to ^-^

Comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, but never a requirement. Thank you to anyone and everyone who decides to read what I write!~

Document transcript below the readmore (in case the link doesn’t work):

The events of the last few days weighed heavily on Clio’s consciousness, and she knew as she settled down for bed that they would lead to a difficult night for her even *after* she had tried to clear her mind of actively thinking about them.

Indeed, once she had finally gone off to sleep, her mind’s eye did not take long to place her in a disorienting situation - she began to dream of being trapped inside a dark corridor, while a massive Heartless loomed above her.

“Right, come on, we can do this..” she was saying - though no-one else was around to assist her in this fight. Her dreams were consistently dangerous enough that she’d honestly gotten used to being in them to some extent, even if she didn’t often remember them when she woke up.

She ran forwards to strike at the foe with her Keyblade, trying to leap up and get to its weaker points above her. The Heartless itself, a towering Assault Dragon, lunged for her with a mechanical roar as the Shadows in its core writhed angrily - but she was just about able to dodge in time, slashing away at the gears on its side. The very air around her seemed to glow as the dragon hissed out a jet of smoke and started to charge a beam of energy in its mouth. It was all she could do to try and twist it into itself, rooted to the ground as it seemed to be - but the whole thing rocked sideways with a groan of metal parts creaking together, and although the blast missed her, it also didn’t hit itself either.

“I could *really* have done with that working, y’know!” she yelled with a tut - but she was able to use her agility to her advantage, diving back around to start attacking from a new place on the body. She couldn’t really tell how long the battle had gone on for, but eventually, the scrapes and damages she had inflicted to the Heartless’ metal skeleton seemed to win out, as a final decisive blow caused the whole structure to collapse, and the Heartless to dissipate into Lux which then quickly faded.

“Phew.. There we go..” she said to the air, though a part of her almost knew that was probably only the beginning. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she looked around at the dark corridor she seemed to be in, but couldn’t make out any of its details.

Then she sensed something move behind her.

Turning around as quickly as she could, nothing seemed to be there, but she started running towards the source of the sensation. Though there was no indication of where she was from her surroundings, she found herself able to move what *felt* like forwards in the cavernous darkness, and with the light of her Keyblade still shining in her hands, she eventually managed to find an exit.

She kept going through the exit, and found herself standing in what could have been the square around the fountain in Daybreak Town; it seemed reminiscent of where she used to meet up with her fellow Keyblade wielders. Despite it being the middle of the night, the air seemed surprisingly mild in temperature, which gave the environment an odd though not unwelcome feel.

As she approached the central fountain, the same sensation arose again, and she instinctively whipped her head around to try and see its source - but, just like before, there was nothing in her view to see. She opened her mouth to speak, but found that her voice had unexpectedly disappeared. Frowning, she instead turned back towards the fountain - she could hear the quiet splashing of its water, and so thought that a drink might help free up her throat, as well as calm her nerves; she must have still been tense from the sudden fighting earlier.

When she reached the fountain’s edge at last, the way the water was agitated meant she couldn’t make out any details of her reflection in its surface - but this was quite normal. She was used to the weary feeling of being in a dream by now, and after so long of having to experience such similar events, she could even start piecing together some of the reasons behind what she went through each night - not that there were always reasons to be fathomed out, of course, but occasionally there would be something she could at least find a potential explanation for, and while she didn’t feel a need to understand every single aspect of her subconscious, the straws she was sometimes able to grasp at did nevertheless bring her some form of solace in the face of her more persistent nightmares.

(Tonight’s encounter with a massive draconic Heartless, for example, made sense in the wake of the dragon-like form taken by Ren’s Shadow, which she was so recently forced to face; while she had had a large group of allies alongside her in however close a Palace came to reality, the world of her dreams offered no such support or companionship for her now, though.)

Clio dispelled her Keyblade, blinking momentarily at how much less lit-up doing so made the space around her, and reached down into the fountain to cup some water into her hands; she found it pleasantly cool to the touch, in comparison to the strangely-balmy night. As she went to drink it, there seemed to be nothing untoward about its texture or taste - however, she realised as she did so that the sound of splashing water was not the only thing she could hear; it once again seemed like something was slowly approaching her from behind. Despite sensing this, she decided to take a deep breath and try her best to feign unawareness, fighting against the curiosity and concern rising up inside her just to see if that perhaps might let her spot the answer.

The sensation slowly increased in intensity, like a long shadow looming over her as her back was turned, but it eventually stopped increasing as the almost-silent footsteps on the stones behind her stilled. Clio could tell from listening out for their pace that they *were* footsteps, but had not seen any change in the lighting around her as she finished her drink from the fountain, so she surmised that their owner had stopped further away from her than the looming dread now hanging over her would indicate.

There was a pause, but in the end, her instincts refused to let her stay vulnerable any longer.

She turned around.

And saw a familiar cat-eared figure with long black wings.

Instantly, her eyes widened and she let out a cry, taking a step back to position herself properly and nearly falling backwards into the fountain in the process.

“Wh- You’re that Rogue girl!”

Clio’s voice rang loudly off the stone of the plaza, enough to make “Rogue”’s own eyes widen in return.

“Y-You- You saw me, then?” she(?) asked, as if confused. Her(?) ears were flattened against her(?) head.

“*Yes*, I saw you, or- see you now, at the very least!” she exclaimed. Her heart was now frantically pounding from being so startled, even if she had quite deliberately put herself in such a situation, having not known what was creeping up on her.

“What do you want?!” she then asked, defensively.

“That.. is not your concern.” she(?) replied, her(?) voice terse but not forceful. “I cannot say this has gone how it should have..”

It was now Clio’s turn to frown as her adversary’s expression - or what was visible of it, anyway - became contemplative, like she(?) was lost in her(?) own thoughts.

Something about her(?) presence seemed wrong, but she had to assume that was due to this being the first time she had seen her(?) with her(?) hood down, and could properly see her(?) head and newly-visible flowered hairpiece in full.

..Could dreams fill in details like that?

“What do you mean?” she then asked her(?), more tentatively.

At that, “Rogue” looked up at her from beneath her(?) messy, dark blonde hair.

“I didn’t expect you to take notice of me here.” she(?) then admitted, after a pause. “Such a factor can still be advantageous, I suppose, but it does complicate things..”

Clio’s frown deepened. “So I’m not supposed to be able to see you? But, of course I can see you, this is my dream!”

“That this dream is yours is true enough, but to think yourself its master is quite another.” she(?) replied. “Were that the case, you would surely have the strength to free yourself from the nightmares you suffer, yes?”

She was taken aback by that. “W-Well.. not exactly! I’ve heard of people who can make themselves dream whatever they want, and- sure, if I had that power it might let me have a decent night’s sleep for once, but-“

“So the sudden appearance of your battle before was not new to you, then. I suppose I should have known from how aptly you handled it.”

“Huh??”

By this stage, Clio was quite sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep up with Rogue’s deductions had this conversation been happening in the waking world, let alone with her feeling as exhausted as she tended to in her dreams.

“_Look_, I still don’t understand- why you’re here.” she began, trying to climb her way back to confidence. “Especially not like this. I was expecting us to just.. fight again.”

“Is that the usual course of your dreams, then?” she(?) then asked, tilting her(?) head to one side. “An endless stream of constant conflict?”

There was a pause as she then let out a grumpy sigh. “It’s either that, or I’m running for my life, or being shouted at, or some other violent scene’s playing out in front of me..”

She(?) stayed silent at that, though the silence was not a cold one.

“So, yeah, that’s why this is weird.” she continued, her expression now decidedly melancholy.

“..Wait, why am I even talking to you about this?”

Her(?) cheeks rose up behind her mask as if she(?) was smiling. “Who can say? Beyond the confines of the waking world, your heart and mind are free to express themselves as they truly would want - is that not what some believe?”

Clio frowned again. “What’s that meant to mean?!”

Her quick jump to her own defence made her sigh exasperatedly to get the rising tension out of her shoulders, but she did see how the girl(?)’s lynx-like ears had dipped downwards again from her outburst.

“..Look, you’ve been confusing me every time you’ve shown up and caused trouble.” she then began.

“First you ran circles around me and Mimi ‘til Morrigan and Kazuki arrived, but then they seemed fine with giving you Francisca back despite the fact she ordered you to kill us.

Then you set Hoa Sen off into a panic as soon as he saw you, but he also wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

And then you corrupted Ren’s Shadow with more darkness, but didn’t even stay to finish us off.

So- who are you, Rogue? What are you trying to achieve??”

There was a long pause.

“..I am not “Rogue”, for one thing.” she(?) said quietly. “Not somewhere like here, if anywhere.”

“Huh?” It dawned on her how tense the girl(?) before her had become. “As in, that’s not.. your *name*, or-?”

She(?) shook her(?) head, which Clio realised was not a particularly clear answer, but it seemed she was - however reluctantly - willing to speak further.

“Not *here*.” she(?) repeated. “It is all that the sisters will call me, but-”

Clio tried to step forward as she(?) was talking, but had to raise her arm up to shield her face instead. From the unspecified horizon in the distance, it seemed like the sun had just started to come up - and then from either side of her, a fog began to roll in.

Though her(?) sight was not turned towards the slowly-rising dawn, she(?) could sense it reach a new stage in approaching from Clio’s reaction.

“Ah.. So the waking world sees fit to reclaim you, then.” she(?) stated. “Of course..”

“Wait a second-” She tried to close the distance between the two by running forwards, but doing so only seemed to make the fog close in more quickly, and it felt like she was sinking into the ground.

“What were you going to say??” she cried.

The thin mist now filling the air between the two was growing thicker by the second, though it retained a certain brightness nevertheless.

“Perhaps another night.” she(?) declared, her(?) voice still holding melancholy. “Though, perhaps..”

She(?) gave a sigh, but it was muffled.

The last thing Clio caught before the fog engulfed her entirely was the mysterious figure looking directly towards her.

And though her(?) mouth was obscured by a mask, she(?) nevertheless said *something*-

-which sounded a bit like “Fiore”.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 30

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1981

Warnings: Mention of death, a lot of grief

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Penny's Interlude I Wish I Had A Hundred Years

****

Maverick

Hangman was released first thing the following morning. He suited up for training before Ghost could even ask if he was feeling okay. They spent most of the day in the air, practicing their usual routines with the course runs and dogfighting before ending it at two so they could go home and freshen up before going out on the water to spread Charlie's ashes. 

The four met at the designated dock, and Rooster led them to a sleek bowrider with the name 'Juliette' embossed in a shimmering, dark blue cursive on the side. Maverick recognized it immediately. "Isn't this Ice's boat?"

"Yeah, I learned how to drive it a while ago," Rooster replied, hopping onto the craft and offering his hand to Ghost to help her in. "Bryn gave me a refresher during our brief dating stint."

"Oh, shit," Ghost groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I haven't told her about Mom..."

"Bryn knows. I told her about it today. She'll be waiting for us at the dock when we return," Rooster said, gently rubbing her back. Ghost made no further comment, only clutched her mom's ashes closer to her chest. Maverick and Hangman hopped into the boat, and while the latter joined Rooster at the steering wheel, Maverick joined Ghost in the front and took a seat next to her. Neither said a word. They simply stared out over the calm waters accompanied by a cool breeze. In the distance, a large squadron of fighters could be seen soaring above the base. 

For over an hour, Rooster drove the boat into the horizon, only stopping when no other craft could be seen for miles nearby. He and Hangman made their way up to the front to join the other two pilots. They stood together with Ghost in the middle, flanked by Hangman and Maverick, and Rooster closely at her six.

"Would you like to say a few words?" Hangman inquired gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. When Ghost failed to respond, he asked, "Would you like me to say something?"

Ghost nodded shakily. Hangman cleared his throat and began, "We're gathered here today to honor the extraordinary life of Charlotte 'Charlie' Winchester, a woman who never wavered in what she believed in and always chased after her dreams. Charlie accomplished many things in her lifetime, more than most could ever hope for, but by far, the achievement she was most proud of was being a mother to Annalise 'Ghost' Winchester and Mia 'Ghoul' Winchester, and her spirit lives on in Ghost, visible in her daughter's tenacity, calm, and strength through the most difficult of times. The world won't be the same without you, Charlie, but we will all do our best to make you proud."

The words seemed to spill forth from Rooster's mouth before he could stop them. "Thank you, Charlie, for taking me in on the holidays when I thought I had nowhere or no family to go to. Thank you for supporting and pushing me, and for always reaching out to check on me. I'll miss those random calls I'd get from you just to say hi and make sure I was doing okay. Thank you for being a second mom to me."

Maverick gulped, feeling he had to say something but having no idea where to start. His words came out jumbled but genuine. "Our time together was fleeting, but you changed my life. You taught me to go for what I wanted and never stop. You were there for me in my darkest hours after Goose died, and for that, I can never repay you. I'll take over watching Ghost. I promise to treat and protect her as if she were my own daughter, so rest easy, Charlie. I've got it from here."

Ghost stepped forward and knelt down on the cushioned bench. She unscrewed the lid of the urn and carefully tipped the jar over. As the ashes of Charlotte Winchester blew over the Pacific, Ghost whispered, "Inis vitae sed non amoris."

She stepped back, clutching the now-empty urn. Ghost took a shuddering breath and bowed her head. The four pilots then saluted the deceased loved one. Out of the corner of his eye, Maverick noticed Rooster turn around to look at something before gently placing his hands on Ghost's shoulders and saying, "Look up."

Maverick, Ghost, and Hangman did as Rooster said, just in time to see seven F-18s fly above them, the second on the right from the middle pulling up into the sky while their comrades continued on.

"The Daggers found out about Charlie and thought it wasn't the best to overwhelm you by suddenly showing up on the dock, but they still wanted to be there for you for this," Hangman said, staring off after the jets. 

"So they got permission from Cyclone to perform a modified missing man formation," Rooster finished. For a few seconds, Ghost made no movement, no sound, only stared at the F-18s disappearing into the distance. Then, in the blink of an eye, the composed facade evaporated. Ghost crumpled in on herself, dropping her head as the tears and quiet sobs spilled out. Her legs gave out from underneath her, and she would've collapsed to the floor had all three men not rushed to grab her. Maverick reacted the quickest, wrapping his arms firmly around Ghost to support her and keep her upright. Hangman and Rooster each placed a hand on her back to let her know they were there for her. For a few minutes, they stood there and let Ghost release her pent-up grief, having pushed it down the last few days to focus on training for the mission. When she finally gathered some of her composure, she turned to Rooster and Hangman, giving each of them a tight hug and saying, "Thank you for all of this."

"No matter what, we're always here for you," Rooster promised, kissing her cheek. He glanced at the rapidly setting sun. "It's probably a good idea for us to head back before it gets too dark. Why don't you and Mav stay here? Hangman and I will get us back."

The two young pilots maneuvered back to the steering wheel while Maverick and Ghost sat down on the cushioned benches, the latter all but collapsing onto them. Maverick reached over and grabbed her hand. "Was that too much? The flyover and-"

"No, no, it was- it was amazing. That's not-" Ghost wiped the tears from her face- "I think between the words spoken for her, pouring her ashes out, the flyover, it just cemented that she's really gone. My last family member is gone, and while I know I have all these people here to support me and be there for me, I-"

"Feel alone?" Maverick finished understandingly.

"Yeah..."

"That will pass. It helps that you at least recognize you have people here for you. It's harder to put yourself back together when you don't realize that."

"Did you?" Ghost asked quietly. "When Goose died?"

"Yeah, but I think like you, I felt like I couldn't go to any of them, either because I didn't feel close enough to them or I didn't want to burden them more than I felt I already had, even though they would've wanted me to have gone to them. When you have no blood family, your friends become family, and sometimes, those bonds are even stronger. Those friends will be your rock when things get tough and times get dark."

Ghost bowed her head, fiddling with the hem of her black dress. "I don't want to burden them... especially you and Bryn. I swear, every time I see you, I have some new crisis on my hands, and you're the closest thing I've had to a dad since my own passed away. I don't want you thinking that my life is constantly one big mess and that every time I come to you, I have a problem I need help with."

"Isn't that what dads are for? Blood or adopted?" Maverick squeezed her hand. "I'm honored you trust me with your problems, whatever they may be, and that you come to me for advice, although some people may question your judgment on that."

Albeit small, Ghost laughed, warming Maverick's heart. It'd been a while since he'd heard that. "Yeah, well, I question theirs. You haven't led me astray yet, so if you don't mind, I'll continue coming to you when I need it."

"My door is always open. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What did you say when you spread Charlie's ashes?" Maverick queried, gripping the side of the boat when Rooster hit a wave. Bradley shouted a sheepish, "Sorry!" 

Ghost curled her legs underneath her. "It was Latin for 'the end of life but not of love.' Mom said it at Ghoul and Dad's funerals. I-I thought it was fitting for hers."

Maverick smiled softly. "The end of life but not of love. I like that."

"I'm hoping that's the last time I have to say it for a while."

"You expecting to say it again soon?"

"With the mission coming up? Yeah, I do..."

"Have you decided who you're taking yet?"

"Not a clue. I was hoping the dogfighting would make it crystal clear for me, but I swear it's only made the decision even more difficult. I don't know what to do, Mav."

"Decide a different day," he told her. "Today, let yourself grieve your mom and face that problem another time."

"I think that's good advice." Ghost gave him a small smile, then glanced out over the ocean and the setting sun. The two fell silent for the rest of the trip, mulling over the events of today and the events of the future. Maverick found himself repeatedly glancing over at Ghost to check on her. No more tears rolled down her cheeks, but a deep sadness resided in her blue eyes, one he understood all too well could only pass with time.

When Rooster pulled up to the dock, Bryn was waiting for them. She drew Ghost into a hug the moment her friend stepped afoot onto solid ground. Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster let the women have their moment, securing the boat to ensure it didn't float away. By the time they were done, Bryn and Ghost had pulled apart, both misty-eyed.

"I'll take it from here, boys," Bryn said, wrapping an arm around Ghost's shoulders. "Thanks for taking care of her and the boat today."

"Any time. Thanks for letting us use the boat," Rooster responded, his gaze resting on Ghost. "Call us if you need anything, okay?"

"Thank you again. For everything," Ghost said sincerely, shuffling over and hugging the boys one more time. "I really do appreciate it."

"We're always here for you. We'll see you tomorrow at training," Maverick told her.

The groups began to part ways, but Ghost suddenly exclaimed, "Wait, Mav! I have something for you."

Maverick waited while Ghost dug in her purse. Finally, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. "What's this?"

"A letter that mom wrote to you. It was in the box of her belongings that Wolfman sent me. I meant to give it to you yesterday, but-"

"I caused problems," Hangman joked, garnering a chuckle from the group. 

"Thanks, Ghost," Maverick said, holding the letter with slightly shaking hands. The group bid each other goodnight once more and parted ways. Maverick tucked the letter safely in his pocket before heading home. He wasn't ready to read it right now. It'd been an emotional day, a somber reminder of how precious and fleeting life could be, and reading the words of a woman he once loved would be too difficult. All Maverick wanted to do was go home and hold Penny tightly for the rest of the night.

****

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[votestaynight2]

12th Day - moonlight (II)

――――I'll go find Tohsaka. She told me to forfeit. If I'm going to ignore her advice and fight, I have to make her realize… That I'm not going to give up, and that we're still cooperating. And――――

I can't let her fight by herself. I owe her bigtime. I can't forfeit until I repay her for that.

"…And she always screws up at the crucial moment… And she's so unreliable that I can't let her be alone." I adjust the shinai bag on my shoulder. …I know I won't be of much help and that she will object. But I can't obtain peace of mind until I see Tohsaka's face.

…This is just a what-if… But if she gets injured away from me, I can't even be there to help her―――

"―――――Phew." I sit down on a bench and rest my burning body. It's past noon. I've searched all around Shinto, but I haven't found anything.

"…Damn. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't think I would find nothing." I knew from the start that I had no way to find Tohsaka. I let my luck take over and searched through the town, but I couldn't find her, nor any traces of her.

"…The other Masters aren't coming out either… I guess there's no need to attack me now that I don't have my Command Spell." I sigh and lay back.

"――――――――" I'm making no progress like this. Tohsaka hasn't left any trace, and my last resort of using myself as bait to lure out other Masters is failing so far.

…I get a bit uneasy. I might not be able to find Tohsaka, and I might not be able to save Saber. They might already be in a terrible situation by the time I find them――――

"――――It's still noon. I won't let that happen so easily." I get back up. I ignore the renewed throbbing in my shoulder and leave the park.

I'll search one more time. I'm sure that she's in Shinto. It's just like last night. I don't know why, but I can feel that "he" is around here. It's not something ambiguous like a premonition. This is a certain knowledge, like a conviction.

Interlude 12-2

――――When did I figure out what the dream was?

A desert as far as I can see. The numerous swords stuck in the ground do not have a wielder. The sky is stormy and there is no forest, town, or sea within my sight. A hill of blades stretching to infinity. A graveyard of steel without any wielder or bearer. I knew from the start… That this is the scenery inside that hero's mind.

After many sequences of events, one who becomes a heroic spirit ends up in that place.

There are those who left the world loved by people, and there are those who left the world praised as noble kings. There are those who died wanting to fight, and there are those who died in satisfaction. …But it seems there are many that have been praised as heroes against their will.

If true heroes are those who have legitimately earned the title, these are a different kind. They were forced to the throne of heroes because of their fate, and they should be called Avenger, the anti-hero. They are the opposite of heroes, but they were praised as heroes regardless. Even those that hated humans and those the humans hated are summoned as guardians.

…But he's neither. He's not a true hero nor a rare anti-hero. He was never compensated for his efforts and his own life ended with betrayal, but he never hated humans. ――――But it didn't last. Yes, he probably grew weary.

I was mistaken. Heroic spirits, familiars called Servants. …Humanity's power to control called the "guardians". They are summoned into every age to prevent humanity's extinction. But the only condition for their summoning is "destruction brought on by humans". Naturally, destruction brought on by an outside factor is solved not by human power, but by the world's restraining power.

…So the only thing guardian heroic spirits can see is self-destruction. They are an existence that eliminate destruction brought on by human greed. He made a contract with the world to save humans and became a hero. After he died, he became a heroic spirit and was shown humanity's self-destruction over and over again. He is summoned as a "heroic spirit" to save people, but he only gets to clean up after people's wrongdoings.

…It did not take long for him to realize that it is meaningless and start loathing the human world. And in the end… He was betrayed by the ideal that he protected unto death.

"Rin. Do you feel dizzy?" "Huh――――?" Hearing the call, Tohsaka Rin wakes up. …She slowly looks around. This is the foreigners' cemetery. It's just past seven o'clock, but there is no one here. Well, the hill with the church is always empty to start with.

"…Sorry, I fell asleep. I guess I'm tired." "That is understandable. You have not slept since last night. Should we postpone this if you are not feeling well? We do not have to go get them right at this moment." "…No, we can't take our time. Since we know where Caster is, we should settle this right now." After saying so, Rin realizes that her body is warm. Her familiar, Archer, must have kept her warm using his cloak.

"…Heh. You knew I was asleep, huh? And you didn't wake me up?" "Well, it's rare to see someone sleeping while they are standing. I was fascinated, so I had to observe it." "―――That's even worse. Who are you to be staring at a girl's sleeping face?"

"Do not worry. I have done nothing so rude. But I did hear something else. I can close my eyes, but I cannot close my ears." "……I see. What was I saying, Archer?" "I heard a few scary phrases, like how you're so angry."

"――――――Oh, that's good." Rin sighs with relief. The dream she saw should not be discussed. She can't have Archer know about it. She likes their relationship. …To maintain it, she has to hide the fact that she knows about Archer's past.

"Let's go, Archer. I know a bit about the church. I can guess where she might be hiding." She brushes away Archer's cloak. Archer silently protects from behind her. Then… "Hey, Archer. Have you ever regretted your own actions?" She asks without turning around.

"――――――――" "I don't want to if I can help it. I want to grit my teeth and be stubborn, even when I'm completely beaten. But I'm sure that's hard. Harder than I imagine, I suppose."

"That would depend on the person. There are those who can and those who cannot do so. You are the former. Such people will not make mistakes, let alone consider them."

"…Hey. That sounds like I'm an arrogant tyrant." "That is a good observation, Rin. A brilliant person shines brighter than others. Such people never have to grit their teeth. …So. This is a personal opinion, but you would fall under that category. Tohsaka Rin will follow her path until the very end."

The knight in the red cloak praises her. Rin blushes at his answer, but keeps asking without turning around.

"…Then what about you? Do you think you would be able to believe in yourself until the very end?" "Hm? I'm sorry, but that question is meaningless." "…Why? It's something you're able to answer, right?" She sounds a bit nervous.

To that… "The 'until the very end' part is meaningless. Did you forget, Master? ―――I met my end a long time ago." …The knight in red gives this reply.

End of Interlude

"――――――Man." I sigh and lean against a sign. I searched until the sun set, and the only thing I figured out was how useless I am.

"――――!" The wound on my left shoulder is throbbing with pain. I don't know if it's opened up, or if the bandage is getting loose. …Either way, I can't spend too much time on the search. It'll end up like last night if I can't find a clue.

"…Man, where could she be?" …I recall when I parted ways with her last night. It's already been a day since she told me to run to the church since I can't fight without Saber――――

"――――Oh. The church." There is a clue. I thought about it when I started the search this morning. The supervisor of the Holy Grail War. The priest at the church might know where Tohsaka is――――

"…It's irritating to go ask that priest for help, but this is no time to be hung up on that sort of thing――――"

…No, I shouldn't go see that priest, regardless of my feelings. He's a priest, but Kotomine Kirei is not a man that should be approached. I don't want to go ask him for advice, but he's the only one I can count on right now.

"…I'll consult him just this once. That shouldn't be a problem." I convince myself and move my aching body. It's almost seven o'clock.

Twenty minutes' walk from the station. The church is in the suburbs, away from the noisy town. "――――――――" It's been nine days since I last went up this hill. But I'm going there pretty often now, considering that I've never went there before.

…To be honest, I don't like the church. Maybe that building itself is a forbidden place I shouldn't approach. The fire ten years ago. The church took care of all the orphans at that time, so it reminds me of that incident whether I like it or not.

I get up the hill and come out into the clearing. "――――――――!" I get a sudden headache. It's not because of the wound on my shoulder. The wound is causing me to have a fever, but it shouldn't give me such a headache.

"Ku……" My temples are hurting. I lose myself and feel a chill, as if my body is splitting in two like a shedding insect.

"――――This is weird." I bear the headache and start running. It's because of the hunch I've had since yesterday. The conviction that Tohsaka is in Shinto. That sensation is assailing me now and causing the headache. Then―――something should be going on in there――――

There are bloodstains on the floor. The blood continues to the door at the back of the church. "…No, that's wrong. It looks more like it came out from that door."

…I'm curious about it, but now's not the time. If there's blood, it means someone's hurt. And this much too――――their life must be in danger. "――――――――" I feel a sharp pain in my head. Dull heaviness settles in my body. I ignore it, take out the wooden sword, and start walking quietly.

"Tohsaka――――are you there?" Nobody replies. The air is tense. I feel like the windows here will break if I'm too loud.

"――――――――" I follow the trail of blood. It's coming from in between the columns. A dark stairway that you would normally not notice.

"…A descending stairway… This place has a basement?" This is a church, so could it be a mausoleum? "――――――――!" …I don't have enough energy to just stand here and think. I cautiously step into the darkness.

I descend into the dark. …I see a faint light at the end of the stairs. Breathing quietly, I make my way down using that faint light.

The narrow corridor ends and I come out into an open space. It's a big stone room. The stairs follow the wall down to the catacombs. There is an open space at the end of the stairs… And―――there is the person I've been looking for, Tohsaka Rin.

Tohsaka confronts the "enemy" before her with Archer's protection. In front of her―――in front of the altar are two people.

It does not even need to be said who they are. The magus in a purple robe, Caster, and her Master, Kuzuki. And on the altar behind them is…[r] Saber, who is looking down and panting painfully.

"――――――――" My heart jumps. My pulse is beating faster than normal.

"――――――――" The situation is obvious. Two pairs of Master and Servant are confronting each other in the temple about five meters below me. They haven't noticed me standing above them, as they're too absorbed.

Tohsaka and Caster are looking for an opening to strike. It would be suicidal for them to look up in a situation like this.

"――――――――" My heart beats even faster. My head pounds and my shoulder aches as if seared by a hot iron.

I can't keep my presence hidden forever in this state. Caster or Kuzuki will notice me if they happen to look up just a bit. I――――

[picaroroboto]

another dream sequence event successfully prevented

[loth-creatures]

This is a Master post for all my SWR Lothwolfwalkers AU stuff. What started as just an art collection is now also a comic series that is currently in progress. One drawing lead to another drawing and people liked it :3 and now my every waking moment is consumed by this. This post will be updated every time I add something new. 

I now have a sideblog for this! @lothwolfwalkers

Consider also visiting me on Ko-fi :)

Premise? Backstory?

If you haven’t seen the movie Wolfwalkers, I cannot recommend it enough, go watch it, the art alone will make you cry. But anyway, there are a lot of elements that fit very well into star wars rebels, so here we are. 

Ezra has always been a wolfwalker, like his parents. But the lothwolves are gone and his parents are dead and he’s never actually connected to his wolf-form. He often has dreams, trying to find his wolf but not actually knowing what he’s looking for and never successful. Once he joins Kanan and the Ghost crew, he will eventually figure it out. Jedi stuff helps. Kanan, the crew, and Ahsoka all become wolfwalkers at different points later on. 

I have a solid idea of how this would all play out within the Rebels storyline, which is now the premise of the comic. I’ve written it to fit pretty neatly within Rebels canon to keep it straight forward, however I will be making major changes to the Ahsoka series storyline. There’s currently about 45 chapters planned out that are divided into 4 parts (volumes? Acts?):

The Last Wolfwalker, in which Ezra discovers he’s a wolfwalker and the resulting adventures in seasons 2 and 3.

The Wolves of Lothal, in which Kanan, the rest of the Spectres, and later Ahsoka also become wolfwalkers. Kanan survives the fire as a wolf. Follows the events of season 4. 

The Wolf and the Warlord, which follows the events of Ashowka, but with substantial rewrites.

The Wolves of Peridea, which takes place directly after Ashowka and follows Ezra, Sabine, and Ahsoka as they are all stranded on Peridea after successfully disabling the Sion/Chimera. 

We’re currently about halfway through Part One! 

I’ve also started hashing out in depth Lore

Asks are welcome :)

Tags

lothwolfwalkers

sww

sww asks

ART

The Original

Transformation part 1

Transformation part 2

Wolf Designs

Ezra’s final form

Hera, Sabine, and Zeb

Mira and Ephraim

Jacen

Ahsoka

Skoll and Hati

Jai and Ryder

Other

Cuddle Pile

Running with the Ghost

Kanan and Hera

More Kanan and Hera

Ezra and Sabine

Ketbine Art Projects 

Reunion

Padawolf

Biteyface

Swallow the Sun

The Wolf of Peridea

Follow the Purrgil

Peridean White Raven

Giving Her a Sword

For Ezra

Future Ezra (old version)

Halloween

Pride

size reference

test panel, more tests

Art for Asks!

get scruffed idiot, fancy prance, mama’s boy, kanera date, bine and soka, mace and depa! ezra and zeb, kanan

COMIC SERIES 

Chapter 1     Chapter 6

Chapter 2     Chapter 7

Chapter 3     Interlude 1

Chapter 4     Chapter 8

Chapter 5

[hpkinktober]

HP Kinktober 2021

Mid-month Round Up | October 1-15, 2021

I’m a bit late with this because of life, but here’s the mid-month round up for HP Kinktober 2021! Enjoy!

Notes

Word counts aren’t included for multi-prompt fics as they may still be in-progress. 

Pairings are included when not clear from summary. 

Word counts, ratings, and ships are not included for tumblr-posted fics unless the fic was labeled with the information.

I think I got these all, but since they don’t have to be posted on the day of, I may have missed something. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you think I missed one! — @manixzen

Multi-Prompt Fics

A Delightful Descent into Depravity by @mightbewriting, @heyjude19-writing, and @niffizzle (E)

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy

Summary: In which mightbewriting, HeyJude19, and niffizzle (henceforth referred to as ‘mightbejudizzle’) decided to do Kinktober. As in, all of it. Thirty-one days of kink. Thirty-one mini fics all under 500 words.

Dream a Little Dream by @cequonveut (E)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter 

It's Just Sex by Kythira (E)

Summary: It’s just sex, she says. Nothing serious.

Thirty-one days of Malfoy and Granger fucking. If you're looking for plot, you're looking in the wrong place. This is pure, unapologetic smut

Kinktober 2021 by aaliona (E)

Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks

Kinktober 2021 by KQHazel (E)

Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley; Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Never too old for fun by Craftybadger1234 (M)

Summary: Harry convinces Draco that at forty-one they aren't too old to participate in the fun of Kinktober!

The Peace of Wild Things by prettygr88n (E)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Your Own Body and Mind by nimpark / @toixxx-ace  (E)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Zygmunt Budge/Tertius, Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter, Harry Potter/Ron Weasley

Summary: My first attempt at a kinktober challenge! Including rare pairs and not-so-rare pairs, slash and femslash, nsfw and sfw (relatively)!

Day 1: Hogwarts Express

day 1: Hogwarts Express by @onbeinganangel​  (Tumblr-posted microfic)

Into You Like a Train by @whimsymanaged (M, 515)

Summary: A little interlude between Hermione and Draco on their way to Hogwarts for their eighth year.

Rocking the Tracks by SmuttySnail (Sadsnail) (T, 347)

Hogwarts Express/Thomas The Tank Engine

Trolley Treats & Tunnel Vision by @withgreatelan (E, 3.5k)

Summary: Harry and Draco have been dancing around each other for a while. With some subtle (and not-so-subtle) nudging from their friends while on the Hogwarts Express on their way home from an event, they finally give into what they want.

Your Attention, Please by @calypsotempete (E, 1.4k)

Summary: Harry might love the thrill of getting caught, the shot of adrenaline that comes with every near miss, but Draco… Draco loves this. He’s always thrived on having Harry’s undivided attention, and, God, having him sit back and watch Draco use his cock to take his pleasure makes Draco drunk on luscious power.

Day 2: Felix Felicis

day 2: Felix Felicis by @onbeinganangel​  

Liquid Luck by @malfoylestrange (AO3: SiriuslySapphic) (E, 1.7k)

Summary: Lavender and Parvati take a little bit of felix felicis to make their anniversary night just perfect.

Lucky Horns by Bubblegumhead (M, 1k)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Summary: Harry Potter takes the wrong potion.

Take Two With Breakfast by SmuttySnail (Sadsnail) (T, 2k)

Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood

Summary: A divorced Percy Weasley wants a good day.

Day 3: Polyjuice/Body Swap

day 3: Polyjuice/Body Swap by @onbeinganangel​ 

Alright. Who are you? by SmuttySnail (Sadsnail) (E, 1.5k)

Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood

Summary: Percy Weasley gets some.

Best in the City by @mintamintathings (E, 2.8k)

Summary: “No talking,” he whispers. “It ruins the part where you’re not Malfoy.” “But, I—” he swallows, unsure. “I am. I’m still Draco.” Harry taps the centre of his own chest. “Harry.” He presses the same finger to the sternum of the body before him and gives a little push, sending him onto his back. “Not Draco.”

Perspective by @manixzen (E, 4.2k)

Summary: Auror Partners Potter and Malfoy just can’t win. It’s another day in the office and another day with a fieldwork mishap. But when they find a way to pass the time while they wait for the antidote for their raid-gone-wrong, it’s looking like it might not be so bad.

Day 4: Amortentia

day four: Amortentia by @onbeinganangel  

It’s All About Perception by @withgreatelan (E, 7k)

Summary: Many years after the war, Draco is on good terms with everyone. But still cannot seem to have a decent conversation with Harry, which is a problem given how smitten he is. Draco decides to use George’s new Polyjuice invention to figure out what Harry’s “type” is - with somewhat frustrating results. Unless, of course, he is missing something?

Tangerines by @triggerlil (E, 360)

Hermione Granger/Original Male Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley

Summary: Hermione smells one thing and does another.

Day 5: Spell Play

day 5: Spell Play by @onbeinganangel 

A Bit of Torture, My Love by SmuttySnail (Sadsnail) (E, 617)

Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood

Summary: Some kinky sex at last.

Anticipation by @manixzen (E, 2.2k)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Summary: After a week in chastity, Draco’s more than ready for the weekend. 

Teardrop in Your Palm by danpuff / @danni-the-puff  (E, 2.1k)

Scorpius Malfoy/Harry Potter

Summary: Scorpius never meant to use the Amortentia. 

Day 6: Parseltongue

day 6: Parseltongue by @onbeinganangel 

Lover Boy At Play by danpuff / @danni-the-puff (E, 4.4k)

Harry Potter/Severus Snape; Harry/Other(s)

Summary: The sex is bad. Yet Severus wants.

Day 7: Creature!fic

day seven: Creature!fic by @onbeinganangel   

Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Day 8: Giant Squid 

day eight: Giant Squid by @onbeinganangel​  

Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

A Potions Master's Pleasure by Hellobabywho (E, 970)

The Giant Squid is a cephalopod, with eight arms and two long tentacles. The tentacles have large ends with suckers, known as clubs. Tentacles are used to strike out and capture prey. Their eight arms are used to hold onto prey when captured and bring food into its mouth.

—Severus Snape was willing prey.

Day 9: Legilimency

day nine: Legilimency by @onbeinganangel

Seeing. Being. Seen. by DontStopHerNow (M, 1.1k)

Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley Summary: Pansy and Ron take a peek at the other side, with predictable results.

The Right Time, The Right Mind by @withgreatelan (E, 5k)

Summary: Draco and Harry are oblivious, smitten Auror partners. When they are selected to test out a new charm that will link their minds for a certain amount of time, Harry is nervous about it but won't explain why to Draco.

To His Mind by Gertrude_Crow (E, 1.7k)

Summary: Remus Lupin did not see Severus Snape in the same way as his friends, but he had always kept his dirty little secret to himself. But when Lily and James need to know who to trust, Severus uses his new skill to look into the werewolf's mind. What he finds there is more than he bargained for.

Day 10: Dark Magic Ritual

day 10: Dark Magic Ritual by @onbeinganangel

On The Slab by Hellobabywho (M, 412)

Severus Snape/Reader Summary: Snape's girlfriend hopes to get some. Hopefully before she catches a cold.

Day 11: Invisibility Cloak

day 11: Invisibility Cloak by @onbeinganangel

Day 12: Duelling

day 12: Duelling by @onbeinganangel​

Takedown by @gracerene (E, 1.6k)​

Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter Summary: With James's Auror Trainee Exams coming up, Teddy's offered to help him work in some extra duelling practice, with some predictably smutty results.

Day 13: Mirror of Erised

day 13: Mirror of Erised by @onbeinganangel​

Reflections by @manixzen (E, 3.7k)

Summary: The Mirror of Erised shows Harry and Draco what they’ve been missing.

Day 14: Magical Portraits

See the multi-prompt chapter fics at top for fics with this prompt. 

Day 15: Magic Game or Sport

day 15: Magic Game or Sport by @onbeinganangel

[flightlessangelwings]

The Interlude: A Marcus Pike Love Story, Chapter 3

Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: none, fluff, pining, angst

Masterlist in bio, story also tagged

(gif credit @damerondjarin​)

~

Over the next few weeks, not a day went by that you and Marcus didn’t speak to each other. You were always texting all throughout the day while you both were at work. He always told you what he could about the current case he was on and you told him about the next big event you had planned. There were even nights when you would sneak out of bed after your boyfriend Tom fell asleep to text Marcus from the bathroom.

I need my good luck charm again. Marcus texted you one day when he was stuck on a case with no leads.

You should have seen this Karen today. You said one day after your client was not satisfied with what you gave her, and refused to work with you no matter how hard you tried to help her. 

Sometimes, the two of you would meet for lunch or coffee, since during the day was the only time you could get away from Tom without suspicion. Marcus always insisted on paying for you despite your protests, so one day you made him an offer that he accepted: you would take the bill every other time. You argued that it was the fair way to do this, and Marcus didn’t counter.

“So you’re telling me you were in a band when you were younger?” you laughed as you and Marcus talked about your college days over a late morning coffee.

He joined in your laughter, “What? I don’t look like the type?”

You looked down shyly, “It’s not that,” you met his eyes, “I used to do musical theater in college. Guess we’re just both musically inclined.”

“Now that I would have loved to see,” Marcus beamed at you.

You could feel heat rise in your cheeks as you thought back to the various parts you played, “I miss it some days. I had a few bigger parts, but the one I really wanted was the lead in My Fair Lady my senior year,” you sighed, “I didn’t get it though, lost it to my friend Caitlin.”

Marcus noticed the way your face dropped, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you picked yourself back up, “She was awesome actually. Better than I could have been,” you chuckled, “She was a theater major anyway, I just did it for fun.” 

“I bet you would have been wonderful,” he replied with a dreamy look on his face.

You were at a loss for words as you just stared at him. Marcus was always so genuine with his compliments and he always seemed to lift you up with his words without even trying. And as handsome as he was, it was his kindness that really drew you to him. 

When you realized you hadn’t said anything in a few minutes, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, “I actually have something I wanted to ask you, Marcus,” you were nervous to ask, but it was something you really wanted. 

He seemed to sense your anxiety and rested his hand over yours on the table, “Anything,” he said your name in a way that made your heart race.

“Well,” you took a deep breath, “There’s this gala for the local big historians group on Friday night. It’s my biggest event of the year,” you had mentioned it to Marcus a few times since it consumed so much of your time this this year you took the lead on it for the first time, “And usually Johnny comes with me as my date, but he’s busy that night…” You paused. When you had mentioned it to Johnny last week, he seemed to make a lazy excuse and suggested there was someone else you should take as your date instead, “It’s black tie, and I know it’s kind of last minute, but would you like to come with me?”

Marcus couldn’t believe what you were asking; it was like a dream to him, “I think I can find a tux in time,” he replied with a bright smile once he calmed his racing thoughts. He wanted to ask why your boyfriend didn’t accompany you, but relationships was one topic that the two of you never touched on.

It took you a beat to realize that he said yes to you and your face lit up, “Really?” then, it was as if you could sense his unasked question, “Tom never likes to come to these things. He’s actually out of town until this weekend anyway.”

“His loss,” Marcus said before he could stop himself and he froze when he realized what he said. But when he looked at you, you had a huge grin on your face.

“It’s my turn to take the tab,” you said with a pep in your voice, “Why don’t you meet at my place at 7 on Friday and the car can pick us up from there?”

The week flew by and come Friday evening, you were in the mirror to put the finishing touches on your outfit. You wore a brand new formal gown that you got just for the gala and you had your hair and makeup done to perfection. Just as you gave yourself one last look, there was a knock at your door.

“Right on time, Agent Pike,” you greeted him before you even opened your door completely. You stopped dead in your tracks when you looked up to see him standing there in a perfectly fitted black tuxedo and he had never looked more beautiful to you.

Marcus was about to give you a witty reply when he too was too awestruck to move or say anything. You looked absolutely stunning in your gown, and Marcus could feel his heart pound in his chest at the sight of you, “Wow,” he breathed, “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled softly as you took a step back to let him in, “So do you,” you voice was just above a whisper. As Marcus walked past you, you noticed for the first time that he held a small box in his hands, “You didn’t have to bring anything,” you commented as you gestured to the box.

It was Marcus’ turn to be nervous this time, “I...I’ve actually been hanging on to this for a while now,” he faced you and slowly opened the box to reveal the necklace that you had bid on at the auction weeks ago. It was just as lovely as you remembered.

“Marcus…” you gasped as he moved behind you to clasp it around your neck, “You didn’t…” you watched him in the mirror and you felt your skin tingle when his fingers brushed against your neck. You fought back tears at all the emotions that rushed through you.

He didn’t say anything as he fasted it around your neck and then he met your eyes in the mirror, “Perfect,” was all he said. 

So are you, you thought. It took you a moment to realize he let his hands rest on your shoulders, and you found that you never wanted him to let you go. But, you had to get going or else you would be late so you cleared your throat, took his hand and led him out the door where the car was waiting to pick you up.

The gala itself was glamorous, Marcus had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Other than you that was. People in their finest attire filled the large reception hall and there was a bar on either wall staffed with waiters to serve food and drinks. You glanced around with a critical eye to make sure all of your hard work showed and nothing was wrong.

Marcus made sure to compliment you on your hard work, and the way your smile lit up the entire room made his face flush. He held out an arm for you so that you could survey the event before you could let yourself enjoy the time. As the two of you walked around, Marcus noticed the way people eyed the two of you, and he definitely overheard more than one person comment what a lovely couple you were. He swallowed hard, and he was sure you didn’t hear the comment since you were too focused on everything else around you.

It wasn’t long before one of your staff rushed up to you with a crisis, and you let out a frustrated sigh, “I’m sorry Marcus,” you turned to him with an apologetic look on your face, “I gotta go deal with this before the director speaks. It’s all you can drink so enjoy yourself,” you gestured over to the bar where there was a line of people waiting for a drink, “Can you get me something too please? You pick.”

“Don’t worry about it. Go, make sure everything’s ok,” Marcus replied in a genuine voice. He understood the need to make everything perfect and he definitely understood being dedicated to your job.

Before you even thought about it, you placed a quick kiss to his cheek, “I’ll find you when I’m done, I promise,” with that you rushed off with your assistant. 

Marcus stood for a moment, dumbfounded, as he brushed his fingers against his cheek. He only moved when people started to knock into him as they walked past and he decided to get in line for drinks.

He stood with his hands in his pockets as he looked around the room. You truly outdid yourself with the event; everything was perfect and the guests seemed to really enjoy themselves. Marcus was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear something call his name at first.

“Agent Pike?” the man came up from behind him, “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Director,” Marcus shook his hand. He recognized the head of the Smithsonian right away since he had worked with him several times in the past, “It’s good to see you, sir.”

“I’d say the same, but seeing you here is making me worried,” the director joked, “Is there something I need to be concerned with?”

Marcus laughed, “No, no. I’m here as a date actually. I know the event planner,” he referred to you by your title and then your name.

“The event planner?” he raised his eyebrows before he reached into his pocket and produced his business card, “Well give her this then and tell her to call me first thing Monday morning. This is the best this gala has been in years, and I’d love to have her plan the Smithsonian’s next big event.”

Marcus beamed with pride, “Yes sir,” he couldn’t wait to tell you and he found himself giddy as he thought about the look on your face.

“Make sure to tell your girlfriend she did an amazing job,” the director gave Marcus a pat on his shoulder before he walked away.

He stood frozen in shock at the word the director referred to you as. Marcus was so deep in his head that he didn’t even hear you walk up next to him until you called his name a few times, “Oh, hey,” he finally said.

“You still with me, Marcus?” your smile really was something else, especially with that necklace around your neck.

“I am,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “Oh, before I forget,” Marcus handed you the business card, “This is for you, and he wants you to call him first thing Monday morning. He’s impressed with your work.” So am I.

Just like he thought it would, your face lit up as you looked at the director of the Smithsonian’s card, “This is… wow…” you were struck speechless. 

Marcus couldn’t help the way his hand reached out for you and he gently brushed your cheek before he laid his hand against your jaw to make you look at him. Just as he was about to say something, an announcement rang through for everyone to gather in the other room to listen to the evening’s speaker. Disappointment was clear in both of your eyes as Marcus took your hand and led you away to listen to the speaker.

Once the speech was over, the space turned into a dance floor. It was always the most fun part of the evening whenever you came with Johnny because you could just let loose with your best friend. But, with Marcus, it felt different. It was still a lot of fun, but you felt a connection with Marcus that you never felt with anyone else. He held you while you danced together in a way that made your heart pound in your chest.

After some fast dance songs, the music then turned into a slow ballad. People all around you paired up and started to sway together, but you just looked at Marcus with wide eyes. You wanted to dance with him more than anything, but you also didn’t want to push your boundaries with him. But before you could lead him away from the dance floor, Marcus rested his hand on your hip and took your other hand in his to lead you in a slow dance. 

He gave you a questioning look, as if to ask if this was ok. You responded wordlessly and leaned into his touch and let him lead you in your dance. You breath caught in your throat when you felt his grip tighten on you. 

Marcus smiled brightly at you, and he found he didn’t want this moment to end. You were always beautiful in his eyes, but tonight you shined like the brightest star in the sky. In that moment, Marcus wanted nothing more than to kiss you, and he judged by the look on your face that the feeling was mutual. 

Slowly, tentatively, he leaned in close to you until his lips hovered over yours. He paused just before he touched his lips to yours to give you the chance to turn away to tell him no. When you didn’t and your eyes fluttered shut, Marcus took the silent invitation. He was about to close the gap between your faces when the slow song ended and an upbeat song started to play.

The sudden noise made you jump in surprise as you back away from Marcus just a bit. You giggled nervously and played with your hands and you found that you couldn’t meet his eyes after your almost kiss. 

“You want to get out of here?” Marcus asked over the music.

You finally met his eye and nodded. It was silent between the two of you as you went outside and waited for the car to pick you up and take you back to your place. Marcus thanked the driver before he got out first to open the car door for you and led you up to your front door. He thought you would pull your key out and open the door, but you stood still and just stared at the knob, lost in thought.

Marcus took a breath and said your name to get your attention. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, he had to say something, “I can’t watch you live like this anymore,” he started, his palms sweaty with nerves. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this nervous around a woman, “I like you,” you let out a gasp as you whipped your head around to meet his gaze, “I really like you. And I can’t watch you be with Tom anymore.” I don’t want to see him hurt you anymore.

“Marcus…”

“Leave him,” Marcus pleaded, “Leave him and be with me. I promise I’ll take care of you and I’ll protect you. I’ll never hurt you the way Tom has,” emotion lined his voice at his confession.

You blinked in surprise as your hands trembled, “What?”

“Listen,” he took your hands in his, “I’ve had my share of bad relationships. And between my ex wife divorcing me and my ex fiancé leaving me for someone else, I’ve been afraid of rejection. But for you, I’m willing to take that risk. Because you’re worth it, and you deserve better than him.” Marcus laid his heart out on the line for you as he spoke.

“Marcus… I…” you looked down at your connected hands before you met his eyes again. Tears welled in your eyes, but they weren’t tears of sorrow, “I do like you. A lot. But I… We…. It’s complicated,” your heart pounded in your chest.

He whispered your name as he brushed a tear away from your cheek. You leaned into his touch; it was always so electric for you whenever he touched you.

‘I’m not telling you ‘no.’ Just... give me some time, ok? I need to figure some things out.”

Marcus couldn't hide the disappointment in his face, but he nodded. He understood it was a lot he just put on you, and he also knew it wouldn’t be easy for you to change your entire life like this overnight. Although part of him hoped you would say yes to him right away, “I’ll wait as long as you need me to. You’re worth the wait,” his thumb brushed your cheek as he held your face.

“Marcus…” you choked back a sob as you fought the urge to just kiss him, “I’m sorry. I…” you broke away and unlocked your door before you stepped inside, “Thank you for coming, Marcus. That was the best time I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, me too,” his voice was laced with melancholy as he watched you close the door. Marcus waited until he heard the lock click before he turned and got into his car. He sat there for a few moments and just watched your shadow move about your house before he drove away. 

~

Notes: I’m so sorry for how this chapter ended... But the scene where they danced at the gala was one of the first that I thought of for this story so I’m excited we got to it! As always, taglists are open so let me know if you’d like to be added to any.

Everything taglist: @thirsty-flygirl​ @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​

Pedro characters taglist @tintinwrites​ @ollypopp​ @starwarswh0re​ @emesispo​  @perropascal​ @shadow-assassin-blix​ @huliabitch​ @randomness501​ @absurdthirst​ @clydesducktape​ @lackofhonor​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @girlwithanewplan​  @wickedfrsgrl​  @theravenreads​ @maryan028​ @wonder-jedi​ @lilangeldevil006​ @agingerindenial​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @thewaythisis​ @yespolkadotkitty​ 

The Interlude only @cinewhore​ @mrsparknuts​ @klaine-92​ @din-damn-djarin​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @miss-me-jack​ @buckysalefty​ @sixties-loser​ @starless-eyes-remain​ @ihavenoideaforausernamee​ @aplaceofpeace​ @hopplessdreamer​ @chibi-liz05​ 

[gremlin-writes-angst]

The Unkissable Prince

1 k words

Quirkless highschool drama club AU. Denki and Jirio play the main leads of a highschool production of “the little merimaid” but problems arise when Jirou insults Denki, calling him ‘unkissable’. Denki’s insecurities grow, feeling unlovable and undesirable, but with some help and flirting from his stage manager Shinsou, Denki realizes that Jirou was wrong.

Trigger warning: Cursing 

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged  

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As the start of every school production starts, you need a cast and their director, Hizashi Yamada, had spent the past week putting the actors into their roles. Now he was in front of them very dramatically reading the cast list to them, he had already named off the minor characters and everyone was already excited.

“ And now for your lead actors,” Yamada announced and then paused for what the kids assumed was suspense until the director spoke again.

“I’m going to need a drum roll, your lead deserves it.” The students were immediately on it, every one of them started hitting their hands against their, hand’s, legs,, or textbooks.

“ Announcing your underwater king, king triton played by Katsuki Bakugou”

Bakugou made a tsk sound, not out of annoyance but as if he was saying ‘of course I’m playing the king you damn extras’ with the simple sound.

“And for his red-shelled friend and worker, Sebastian, will be played by the one and only Eijiro Kirishima.” 

Kirishima was almost near tears, he wanted this role so bad, but he was insecure about his acting ability, but now he was filled with happiness and confidence.

“ Yeah, I knew you’d get it, Kiri.” Mina patted Kirishima on the back, her way of supporting Kirishima.

“Now For the evilest witch who resides under the sea, Ursula will be played by our very own Mina Ashido!” Yamada announced in a sinister voice and pointed at the ecstatic girl. Mina jumped up and started doing a little dance.

“Mina save it for the stage. Now where is my drum roll!?” The students repeated the actions from earlier, making Yamada happy.

“The love interest known as Prince Eric will be played by the one you all know and love Denki Kaminari, and as for his mermaid princess Ariel, that role is given to the talented Kyoko Jirou”

The two leads were very happy to hear that they got the roles they wanted. After some chatting and highlighting their lines, the student’s director was ready to watch the students become their characters and they began to prepare their last high school production.

It was Thursday and today they were going to rehearse the last few scenes of the show for the first time. Both the leads were nervous about the kiss scene that they would have to share, both for different reasons. For Jirou not only was it going to be her first kiss, but it would be with Denki, it not that she has anything against Denki, it’s just that Denki was a guy, and Jirou wasn’t into guys. She’s more into the smart type, with long hair, and lot of money who like tea and are named Momo Yaoyorozu. Jirou wouldn’t say she was repulsed by guys, but she valued her first kiss and didn’t want it to be for a show with someone she would never fall for. Similar to Jirou, Denki also hadn’t had his first kiss, but he just wants to get it over with, he doesn’t want to graduate without having his first kiss. He could care less about who or why, he cares about when. Even if he wants to have the kiss he is still nervous, it will be his  first kiss of course he’d be nervous. They had been rehearsing for a while up until the wedding scene arrived, the scene that required a kiss from the leads. Before they started the scene the director interjected

“ Denki and Jirou come down here for a second.” The two got off the stage and to the director.

“ So Jirou has expressed that she's uncomfortable with the kiss, which is reasonable, you two are high schoolers. So we’re going to do stage kisses, you know how to do that, right?” the two nodded their heads.

“ Ok then get back up there.” The two began to walk up to the stage, but Denki needed to know why Jirou was uncomfortable.

“ So I’m not your type?” Denki joked, his way of figuring out what was wrong.

“ Yeah, you're gross.”

“So gross that you don’t want to kiss me?”

“Of course I don’t want to kiss you, kissing you would be the grossest thing I could think of.” Denki wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he didn’t expect her to make him feel so… unlovable. Jirou realizes what she just said and she feels bad but then realizes that Denki would probably take it as a joke. She wasn’t out as a lesbian to anyone, and she always got defensive when she felt her sexuality would be discovered.

About a week later the actors were sitting and waiting via their director’s instructions.

“Now can any of you tell me what this show is missing.” Yamada walked onto the stage questioning the student. They began to yell out answers, all of which were wrong.

“Nope. No. And wrong. What this show is or I should say was missing is a stage manager. But not anymore, Shinsou come on stage!” A few seconds later an exhausted teenage boy entered the stage, his feet dragging, and in his hands was a large binder labeled ‘The Little Mermaid’. When he got to the center, where Yamada stood, Yamada prompted the boy.

“ Shinsou you’ve got to interlude yourself.” The boy rolled his eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

“ Hello everyone, I’m your stage manager Shinsou. I’m sorry for missing the last week of rehearsal I was working on this.” He lifted up the binder.

“Like he said he is your stage manager he will be working and helping everyone, now let us get to work!” Yamada clapped his hands and the student started to get into place. While trying to get to his spot Denki was stopped by the bluntly attractive stage manager.

“ Hey your Kaminari right, Prince Eric?” Denki had already thought the boy was attractive with a smooth voice, but up close it was dream-like.

“Yeah, that’s me, but you can call me by my first name, Denki.”

“Ok, I approached  you because I have a lot of notes and ideas, and I bet you have yours, so I want to work with you on your portal of Prince Eric.” Denki was shocked at how straight forward the boy in front of him was. A schedule was made so that the two could work on Denki’s lines, memorization, and portal. Though these meetings would also lead to working on Denki’s self-confidence, and romantic life, but they don't know any of that yet, it's something they'll have to discover themselves.

[rockclownsdococaine]

Chapter 2 - Happy Little Day

The seven days between getting the call and the day of our gig dragged on, as if time itself wanted desperately for us to hold onto this interlude of our lives, but I suppose that's a normal feeling anyone can get when waiting for a life changing event such as that.

Despite this show being so instrumental to our future, there wasn't much to do to prepare for it besides practice- Nez and Ace did have an argument about the songs going on the setlist, but Screwball quickly shut it down and they all came to an agreement after a vote imposed by him.

The night of our gig couldn't have come soon enough, especially after how long the week dragged on. Even as it got closer and closer to showtime, Ace kept running through multiple lists so things wouldn't have a chance to go wrong.

"Sage, are you sure you have multiple pairs of sticks?" Ace asked me in a rush, making sure Nez and Screwball were presentable "we're on in five minutes, we can't be missing anything!"

"It's good, all good," I nod, lifting up my shirt with one hand to show him the pair in my pocket before showing the pair I had in my other hand "you need to breathe, it's gonna be fine, Ace."

He nods a bit, taking a deep breath as the stage manager sped past us, chiming a reminder that we were on in a minute. Hearing that made Ace squeak and start back up with his anxious actions, brushing invisible dust off of Screwball's jacket.

The older man gently pats Ace's head, looking awkward at the sudden attention to the microscopic details on his jacket "hey, we have to get going- breathe, Ace, we're gonna be great and we're gonna get more gigs!"

My little brother takes another deep breath before ushering Nez, Screwball and I out just as the stage manager called the last warning.

Trying to avoid seeming awkward at being pushed out the way we were, we wordlessly make our way to our places and get situated. The silence was broken when, unceremoniously, Nez turned to me and simply said "Twisted Sister."

I grin and nod, immediately starting up with the opening riff of We're Not Gonna Take It, looping the drumming twice to get the audience anticipating the actual start of the song. Once I saw them inch closer to the stage I started singing, Nez and Screwball joining in on playing as soon as their parts came up.

Every now and then, I glanced over to the side of the stage at my brother. Despite being so worried for us before we went on, he was now entranced in the moment, like the venue we were playing to.

After our covers and original songs, we decided to end the set with our best rendition of California Uber Alles. At that point, the audience was in such a great spirit that the ones who knew the song well enough even screamed along with us.

As the last note Nez played rang out over the venue, a heavy silence hung over the audience. Then, as if something snapped, people began cheering and applauding, some even begging for an encore!

My bandmates and I looked to Ace for approval, to which he nodded with a proud smile. We all grinned and nodded happily, buzzing with a newfound energy as we launched into one more song.

Little did we know, we'd all be carrying this night in our hearts as we began to take off in a way we had always dreamed of.

[clownattack]

Castor - character bio

I’ve been struggling with getting a bio out for Cas for waaaaay too long now, but i feel pretty ok with how it looks currently - i'm going to repost it on my art blog with some drawings of Cas and Hjalle in the future (hopefully). If you want to skip most of the nonsense and just get a feel for her personality, the section under the bio paragraphs is FULL OF POINTS.

links to drawn refs here and here

Longpost under the cut

✦ Early life in Hjalle:

Being born into the noble family Aran, Castor’s early life consisted mostly of being pampered by the attendants and strict education. Cas was a rowdy kid, and with time, lack of affection and validation from her family served to amplify the trait - she went from occasionally disobedient to full-on antagonistic towards her parents, and the nobility as a whole. She began to sneak out; spending her time outside of the Fort, spying on the guards and trying to bribe knights into taking her on as a page.

When Cas turned nine a sibling came into the picture, and she made it her duty to assure Aster’s upbringing would be better than hers. She poured everything she had into Aster, but soon developed a brash and overbearing streak, unyielding in her focus to teach the meek little sister to stand her ground. Aster became torn between Cas and the parents, who in all fairness, treated her much better than their firstborn. This would remain the case until Castor’s dragon-induced injuries.

In her late teens, Cas was seldom seen in the fort - to everyone's great relief. Her mood was always sour, she gave up on her studies and only seemed to care about Aster and joining the hunting parties. Her parents reached their limit when Castor announced she would not become one of the renowned judges of House Aran - this led to an explosive argument, which concluded with Castor storming out. For the following two years, she lived and worked with rangers tasked with protecting and providing for the town.

It was in those years that Cas acquired her battle prowess and scars, the most prominent being a gift from an especially large and angry dragon. A single swipe of its tail tore Castor’s chest and forearm open, forcing the hunting party to rush her to the fort in (what the hunters expected to be) a futile attempt to get her family to provide medical help for their dying kin. The reception was cold indeed, and if it weren’t for Aster’s hysterics and outrage over her family’s indifference, Cas would have not survived the grievous wounds. The upside to this event was a new high tale to impress people with, and strengthening the bond between two sisters. The downside - Castor was now under her parent’s thumb. They made her accept the position of inquisitor; to make up for the hassle she caused them. Taking up the mantle turned Castor’s world upside down - not only would she have to work in close proximity to her father, but her dreams of being knighted were shattered, as inquisitorial duties stand in stark opposition to virtues of knighthood. As Inquisitor she was tasked with investigating and interrogating for the court - the latter, as Aran tradition had it, was extraordinarily bloody.

 ✦ Vesuvia:

Almost as soon as she arrived, the city sparked something in Cas. This was unexpected to say the least; she was certain the years of gruesome work as inquisitor numbed her to simple joys of life. The sights and sounds of Vesuvia however, made her eager to explore and see how everything ticked - and the more she saw the more she wished to remain in the city. After attending the Masquerade and becoming acquainted with Asra, Cas was prepared to do anything to stay - even if it meant sucking up to the Buffoon count and begging for a job. Lucio proved to be anything but opposed - he’d heard of the “bloody good shows” (pun intended) Castor was infamous for, and was eager to take her off her parents hands. This led to working parallel to the count and his court, but also enabled Cas to dabble in magic under Asra’s tutelage.

This slight betterment of Cas’ situation would not last long however, as The Red Plague took complete hold of the city mere months after she took up her residence in Vesuvia. After perishing, and being brought back by Asra, she very slowly regains certain memories and traits - her sister, love of astronomy, sword skills. She sneaks out, snoops, and is a handful overall; but Asra is happy to see Castor’s “new” self free of bitterness and pain.

After this point, the “game events” take place. I like to imagine Castor braving an amalgam of Nadia and Portia routes, with a fistful (or multiple) of courtier drama. Castor is tasked with an investigation, slowly  but surely unravelling how deep the corruption runs in Vesuvia, and how much of it can be attributed to the courtiers. The conclusion of her story focuses on first facing off against the court, then the Justice Arcana.

  ✦ Physical appearance

Light olive skin, she picks up a slight tan in Vesuvia.

Dark gray eyes, striking marbling on the iris.

Long girl - 176 cm tall, loves being the “tall friend” (and manhandling people close to her). Being taller than her is taken as an indirect challenge.

She has a rectangular body type, could be described as a “runner’s body”.

Prominent scarring across right forearm and torso, missing right breast.

Tastefully disheveled. Her hair has a constantly windswept quality, and the gray streaks seem to be especially unruly.

Inherited the “Aran silver” (early graying), she tries to ignore it. “The more you hide it, the more it shows”.

Secretly really bothered by the many similarities to her father. Avoids looking at herself too much, and whenever she does it feels like he’s looking back at her, judging.

Only ever smoothes herself over before important court meetings and social events. She doesn't know how makeup works, so before any party she asks Asra to sort her out. Cas looking prim is both a treat and a source of friendly jabs.

✦ Character traits

Power walking by default. This can be somewhat intimidating, and she won’t stop if someone is in her way - just put them to the side and continue.

Puts up a really convincing pretence of formality and refinement.

In actuality she finds this facade tiresome, and just wants to talk fast about battle/hunting feats or astronomy. Maybe show off her pyromancy.

Loves socializing, it recharges her batteries.

Dilligent worker.

Tends to overwork herself and neglect her relationships.

Often scatter minded and wanting to do too many things at one time.

Doesn’t appreciate people instigating physical contact or getting up in her face. She needs to prepare herself for it, or be the initiator.

Stubborn as a mule. Never knows when to stop pressing people.

Extremely callous at times.

Annoyingly overbearing

Most of this springs from a place of fear - things had a habit of getting worse whenever her family imposed decisions onto her. In her mind, if she’s the one holding the reins, everything will be better. And if something does fail - she will be the only one to blame.

Starting arguments comes much too easily to her, but she’s just as quick to introspect, and seek out the person she argued with to apologize and approach the issue in an appropriate manner.

Forgives easily

Eternally scoffing at astrology. She knows shes being bigoted, but at this point its almost like an inside joke between her and Asra. “Astrology? It's baby stuff. PSEUDOSCIENCE!” (she cries as she worries over her afternoon tarot reading and preparing pretty horoscopes for the Shop...)

A huge hypocrite at times. “Do as I say, not as I do” could easily be her motto.

Both the upright and reversed Knight of Swords card sums her character up perfectly.

✦ Occupation & Residency

Vesuvia:

Beginning of her story follows the game canon almost to a T - Cas lives with Asra in the Shop, and works there. It bores her to death, and she plays tricks on every customer just to entertain herself.

After being officially hired by Nadia as the Palace Magician, Castor moves out of the shop and purchases a modest house in Goldgrave, much below the value of what Nadia offered her, and what she could afford. It’s convenient and that’s what matters to Cas. She continues supplying the shop diligently, and takes over whenever Asra runs off.

Nadia insisted on Castor having an office in the palace. It grew on her with time, and after The Devil is dealt with it becomes her little “hub”.

Hjalle:

Cas lived with her family in the castle site until 17 years old.

After denying her parents their plans for her future as a judge, she hunkered down in a hunting lodge outside of the town, and spent almost two years living that way - she still thinks of these two years as the most joyous time in her life.

The only thing she ever used her family’s wealth for was commissioning the construction of an extravagant observatory. Reminiscent of a gothic fortress, the stark exterior is contrasted with insides filled with artwork and art-nouveau ornaments. The central chamber is a vast library with a powerful telescope in its apse - it is a sight that could take the breath of the most haughty of nobles.

There’s a tiny living space below the main chamber, furnished sparingly, but with a lovely fireplace (in Hjalle, its a necessity). It’s where Cas stays after becoming the inquisitor/whenever she visits after the in-game events.

✦ Trivia

Cas is 23 years old when she first arrives to Vesuvia - 28 at the time of The Devil’s downfall.

She freed Merlin from a merchant’s cage in the Red Market, during one of her outings in the three year interlude after her death - Asra fumes after they find out she snuck out to the market - yet is amazed that Cas found a familiar.

Cas regained her first memories via touching objects linked to her past life - a letter from Aster, articles of clothing, a sword...

This self re-discovering takes a turn for the worse when Cas finally finds a large, ornate knife - the one she inherited after becoming inquisitor. The memories it resurfaces are a staggering blow to Castor, completely derailing the beliefs she had about her own person. She thought of herself as a paragon, and remembering the torture she inflicted upon others, the lives taken in the name of “justice” made her relapse into bitterness and disenchantment. She deals with those feelings as her investigation into the courtiers progresses.

Predominantly uses pyromancy, other types of magic are strictly used for her work at the palace, and rather sparingly.

Could be best described as a battlemage - enjoys being in melee range and assaulting her quarry with both sword and fire; the latter being used more as a way to distract or stagger the enemy than actually harm. There's no fun in just burning them up!

Doesn’t cook for herself, although she has a natural knack for it - will only cook for guests and short people.

Her dislike of Lucio clashes with gratitude for employing her when she first arrived to Vesuvia - he was the knife which cut Cas off from her parents, and it’s something she could never forget.

Demiromatic/sexual.

She was offered to be knighted by Nadia after defeating The Devil. Cas declined - It’s much more than a title to her, and accepting seemed like mockery (considering her past as inquisitor).

Short fuse, she learns to better control herself while working in the palace. But if someone really pushes her the nearby candles miiiight get a bit out of control. Or she’ll just throttle them.

Hates her full name - Castor is such a mouthful. Sounds stuck up too...

[originofjaehyun]

Interlude: No More Drama | Masterlist

You met him by chance. He was perfect all the way – yet. You thought you know Jaehyun, when you realized you might not.

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Mainly angst, fluff, sometimes smut.

Word count: 50,6K

Mafia!au (you are warned haha – I would probably update this tag while I continued writing this so yeah this will do for now)

P.S.: I thought I want to make the title Neo Zone (just because) – but I really like Interlude from this album (and the only one with a single sentence lyric lol) so after cracking my brains out a few thoughts I decided that it would be the series’ title instead of a chapter!

Hi,

SOOOO I really don’t know how I should start it, but I decided to make the masterlist first before uploading the first chapter, I guess I’m just too lazy to make a teaser (I’m not on that level yet).  Basically, I’m working from home because of the situation with COVID-19 and it’s been slow for the business... so I decided to write (I know I’m currently writing another fic but I just can’t help when my creative juices are running onto this one instead) a fic again hahaha. I’ve been listening to Neo Zone non-stop and I’m highly inspired by this drabble to create this fic!

I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Chapters // completed

• Elevator (127F) – “Can’t take it anymore, just follow me”

• Kick It – “The new worlds that will spread in front of me will come into me as if I can grab them”

• Boom – “It was rather good baby, the day you were standing there again like a picture.”

• Pandora’s Box – “Somewhere I close my eyes to you, love love love.”

• Day Dream – “Oh you and I falling further for love.”

• MAD DOG – “Welcome to my nightmare.”

• Sit Down! – “I stand on top above control, every thing is not the regular renegade.”

• Love Me Now – “Now I realize those shining days, those days left alone being stuck in the dark you disappeared.”

• Love Song – “My steps keep slowing down, I can’t stop, I can’t stop this feeling.”

• White Night – “Dream of you all night long.”

• Not Alone – “One step, one step, one step each. Closer, closer, closer to the place that appeared in my dream that looks like me, can you feel not alone?”

• Dreams Come True – “My disappointing days, my insecure days, they will all become dazzling like myself right now.”

📀Playlist please stream!

Read the sequel – Prelude: After Story

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and by all means not affiliated to any real people that are mentioned in this account. As the main purpose of this fiction is solely for entertainment; names, character, business, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | THE EMPEROR INTERLUDE

First time reader click here

A look on the relationship from Tony Stark's eyes. Should give you an insight as to how his character growth was plotted - that's hard to see through a first person POV so I came and delivered the "whys" behind his behaviour.

He felt the restless thrumming of the arc reactor between his ribs.

It was the first thing that drew focus of his mind as the situation at hand began to make sense. He was a clever man - the genius in him wasn't just for the academics; sure, he'd revolutionised the world once or twice or three times over the past ten years, but when it came to the rather delicate matters of the heart, he was as clueless as when he was a teenager.

The difference between then and now was only that he knew when to keep his mouth shut. It didn't matter how many poisonous articles the media sharks spewed out, he didn't hesitate to silence and shut every single one of them without a word to the one that started it all.

She lived blissfully by his side. The papers took their worst: without a direct statement, they speculated and called him a cradle robber, a moralless skirt chaser, every name in the book. She wasn't spared too: despite her young age, her social standing and vulture of a mother, the occasional "opportunistic gold-digger" comment made it's way into the NYC socialite column. She never uttered a peep, never shed a tear or even complained and he was utterly fascinated by it.

The world she was living in was much different that the one he was used to. The younger generation used to confuse him but now it was just terrifying; amongst her peers, only the most bitter, jaded ones expressed their disdain towards the press speculations. He'd taken to scrolling through the comments of her social media to make sure she knew what she was getting into by having a relationship with him; the outcome was bizarre - he didn't expect a positive response whatsoever but there they were, people born in the beginning of a new millennia, excited for her, showing their support for the girl who already had made a name for herself in the scientific community.

Another surprise - she was full of them, each day was like opening presents on christmas morning. Banner had nearly turned green when he found out that the "papichulosatan" he was corresponding with on an invite-only biological sciences themed forum was actually a teenager - she had been 16 at the time. Apparently, the inhabitants of the entire planet Earth except for the residents of his tower knew that she was something... Something else.

Not a child, not quite a woman. She hadn't acquired that bittersweetness that Tony associated with women his own age, like Pepper and many more he'd tried to form a relationship with. His girl was pure of heart, clear of soul, but in a way that complimented her maturity. Ever since that fateful night he spent two hours running around the NYC's trendiest clubs just to find her sitting alone with a sense of pride rivaling his own, he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was always on his mind and it was terrifying.

It wasn't like she suddenly made his life entirely something else; rather than changing him, she quietly complimented him in a way that suited them both. They didn't really fight because there wasn't anything to fight about. Sure, they disagreed on things all the time, but the unspoken rule to not force something on one another stood. He learned that with Pepper and she- she seemed to be emotionally mature on her own.

That's what his therapist had said, anyway, surprising herself and him. It was evident that the woman thought, to some extent, that he had made her up. But the honeymoon period passed - and Bruce had joined them - and shit happened, but she still stood quietly by his side, not intruding into his personal space but offering him a shoulder to lean on whenever he needed it. Ever since that, Tony began to feel truly invincible. Not a single event in his life had made him feel this powerful.

She went and made friends with Loki, the unlikeliest of people, and she stood by him, too, seemingly a neverending readiness to tear anyone, who dared to make a negative remark about him, limb from limb. Knowingly or not, she had patched the hole in the team - a gaping, bleeding one, of mistrust and unnecessary cautiousness, and continued to do so every single day without a care in the world. Not just him, Tony Stark, but all of the Avengers were invincible with a back-up like that.

Realistically, Tony knew they still had ways to go. They were begrudging friends at first but now the bonds strengthened; even as his disregard for Rogers lessened, the man himself was taking steps to control his impulsivity and temper. Tony hated that it had to be a teenager cowering in fear in front of Steve for the man to realise his good intentions didn't always get the best results. Tony was grateful to Loki he'd stepped in that time. While he didn't think Rogers would actually strike a woman, two hundred pounds of genetically engineered bulk of muscle towering and yelling over you was no less terrifying.

At least it started to turn gears in that steroid brain of his.

Everything after that seemed like a dream. Quiet and witty until provoked, his girl was insatiable for him in a way that matched his own hunger for her. It was never just sex with her, somehow, each time he was inside her it felt like revelations. They'd sit for hours, her in his lap, his half-hard cock buried deep inside her welcoming heat, sometimes working and sometimes just listening to each other's gentle breathing. All the love songs started to make sense.

Seeing Bruce, his second best friend and partner in crime, handle her like he did provoked an opposite reaction of what he was expecting of himself. Tony had been terrified of her leaving him, every single day, no matter how many times his ugly, rotten inside showed itself and she still accepted him; with time, the ache dulled, but it never fully went away.

Bruce put a gentle band-aid on it, unknowingly of course - the scientist was too busy taming his own demons to look out for Tony's - but he went to Tony and laid his cards out on the table. Not backing down and not being sorry for himself either, so neutral it made Tony's heart hurt. They both had come to an agreement, of course, but she went and shredded it and showed them fair and square that they both - all three of them - could get what they wanted only if they worked on themselves a little bit.

For the first time in their lives, the men were truly motivated. There was none of that manipulative undertone that Pepper liked to use on Tony - "you're an adult man, you should be doing and feeling this or that or I'll have to leave you" - there were just gentle hands and even gentler words and no expectations. One day at a time, every single one of them was learning, happily so.

And it wasn't until Natasha had ambushed him in his workshop that he realised, another one of many firsts, that this was what healthy love was supposed to be. There were no obligations, no covert contracts, not one thing that made the whole 'committment' shiding so toxic and terrifying.

Somehow, Natasha knew. "If you hurt her, that's on you. She won't run the first time, and the second time, it's going to be the straw that broke the camel's back... And I would pity you if that happens. Because people like her... They are dangerous when they are hurt. She would gut you like a pig."

Tony's ears were ringing; he wanted to laugh at the absurd thought of this understanding, kind human being acting maliciously. But all he could focus on was Natasha's choice of words: "If... If..." If, not when. Did the spy really think the three of them stood a chance?

Natasha had unceremoniously picked up and chugged his long-cold coffee, gracefully hopping up on the table. "You two are more alike than you think. Figured you'd be self-absorbed enough to choose a carbon copy of yourself," With that, the Russian left, leaving a gaping Tony to stare into the nearest wall. His brain registered it was a joke way too late, the fury that crawled up to burn his throat was cooled by disbelief. If Romanoff thought he was even half as kind and thoughtful as his girl, was it really an insult? Damn those puzzling Russian spies.

Bruce had come not much later, shaken and pale but not green, so deep in thought that he ran into lab equipment twice before ending up in the same place that was occupied by Romanoff minutes earlier. He muttered something about Loki and a pep-talk; things that sounded more like a discussion with his green side, so Tony left him alone.

The shift in Bruce's and Hulk's dynamic was visible to the naked eye ever since that long night in the lab where they both watched Peter and her working on something personal, perfect symbiosis, well-oiled scientific research machine, unlike themselves. Both of them choking on jealousy and acrid, ravenous envy, feelings too inappropriate but too obvious to conceal. Peter's crush on her was just as obvious and her disinterest was just as transparent. But the what-ifs had eaten at them both until they had to spew them out, and the Hulk had been the pushing force for them to begin to act like adults.

Hulk had proposed, in his limited vocabulary and much too passionate tone, to protect the puny Princess at all costs. Bruce didn't resist much and Tony jumped on the bandwagon as soon as he could. It was the only logical solution.

That's why Tony threw the party; he could not care less about Barnes' desire to see Rogers in something trashy and slutty on all Hallows Eve. He couldn't give any less fucks about the press that was raving for another Stark party. He did care a little about Strange's wounded ego: the man fascinated him, like any other strong-willed, independent character, but nothing more. Tony wanted to know what would make the sorcerer tick.

Tony wanted to give his baby girl the world.

And then, he failed.

Tony felt as if someone had poured a bucket of waste right over his head when his- their baby girl had come in, shaking and hiding behind a furious Loki and announced in a monotone voice that she'd been drugged. Something inside of him broke, snapped just like the pencil that Strange was holding next to him.

Bruce hulked out and Tony felt as if he himself would burst any second. His Princess was fearless, he knew it, yet couldn't help his heart from skipping a beat when she approached the green beast with the same kindness she treated all of her closest people. Tony didn't hesitate to follow the Hulk's orders, eager to channel the murderous rage and regretful anguish somewhere; it just spiraled out of hand. Once again, his head was underwater as his life spiraled further and further into lightless abyss and he was alone-

And then all of a sudden, he was warm. Not on the outside, but on the inside - the arms around his shoulders were comforting like an old, worn out sweater, familiar. Missing s couple of threads and spouting a couple of holes - imperfect, but utterly his. Her breathing steady but a little bit shaky, hands holding on just a little too tight.

You two are too much alike, he remembered Natasha's words. That was probably her way of showing just how scared she was. She could be as terrified of his reaction as of the person who did... That... To her. In his house. Tony wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together. That wasn't the time to mope or wallow in self-pity, it was the time to remove the foreseeable threat.

The team stood in silent agreement. A rare moment of absolute unity, all interpersonal issues pushed aside and locked away. Coulson's side-eye was of cosmic magnitude but nobody paid it any mind. It was very unlikely that even the agent himself would be able to stop Natasha and Clint from dealing with the guy; as more and more details came forward, the clouds in the room thickened.

Nobody batted an eye when Baby was, yet once again, the voice of reason and the operation Baby Thief began progressing forward smoothly. Tony reasoned what himself that letting her go with Strange was the best option - even the billionaire himself could not get a better combo than a sorcerer and a doctor that very day.

The box was retrieved; the mere presence ff it and the terse atmosphere it brought into the room reminded all of them too much of the Tesseract and it's effects. Loki was, perhaps, the worst of them all: pacing like an agitated animal, the god growled under his breath at his brother who was clouded with grief and worry. Tony found himself asking "what would Baby do" and came to a conclusion - nothing that wouldn't require him to step over his pride.

In the end, he conceded. A simple "Walk with me", but it was an obvious olive branch extended to Loki and the Asgardian knew it. He wasn't stupid enough to refuse a truce offering in a situation like that. They walked laps around the SHIELD base in neutral silence, slow steps, each lost in their respective thoughts but being finally able to breathe with a full chest. Thankfully, nobody made a remark that they both returned as soon as the box was secured and placed in temporary containment for Strange to pick it up.

For the second time in those 24 hours, Tony's arc reactor all but buzzed in response to his skyrocketing heart rate. She'd called - Loki's phone - and she sounded broken. All of them froze at the exhaustion in her voice; there was nothing but emptiness in the whispers. Nothing that made her, her.

The scene in front of them was something straight out of a B-rated horror movie. Tony thought Loki had reached the apex of his anger earlier; evidently, the engineer had been very wrong and godspeed to the people who managed to piss off the moody Asgardian. It appeared as his magic exploded out of him, all but knocking the people behind him into the walls of the Sanctum.

Their Baby, laying on the floor and the people who swore to protect her beside her, it set Tony's blood ablaze. It boiled, tipping the heat if his temper dangerously close to it's boiling point. She spoke to them, voice shaky and her own fire - it was burning at least as strong as his blood, something had happened and something had hurt her...

Belatedly, he realised Natasha had been right. She was dangerous. There was nothing of the sad, scared girl that came to Bruce whenever she had been upset; there was no desperation for validation, the very same she'd thought she hid well but it seeped through the cracks of her self-deprecating jokes.

Something... Or someone... Had threatened something vital to her. And she was going to make sure they never, ever get the chance to do that again.

I got a comment on AO3, where I also posted this, complimenting my world building. I took a moment to think about it and I understood that to make the story more saturated I had to include some of the other's POVs. So y'all can count on more of these. And if you feel like the x doctor Strange pairing isn't being fully explored - I am aware of that, it's going to be explored more. After all, it took us 10 chapters for Bruce and Tony respectively, and Stephen is a slightly more complicated man. That said, we'll have some more interactions with him shortly. Thank you for your continuous support, guys. I may not remember every single one of your nicknames my heart but I see the likes and I definitely notice whenever a new person binges on this fic. What originally started as an excuse to write hot boomer porn has now grown into something that's a whole damn book and that's because of you guys being so amazing. I love you all 3000.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[cosmosrival]

Rico besides Kama what do you think about the other indian servants?????

AHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS GOING TO GET SOOOO LONG!!!! i have a different view of the indo fam as a whole. i call them the indo fam but i mean the found family trope!!!! theyre like a group of college students sharing a dorm if that makes sense, since their servant selves are obviously different from their initial myths/human vessels!!!

OK SO. RECENTLY, i have an oomf that found books about arjuna that summarize his exploits in the mahabharata(I DONT HAVE THE STRENGTH TO READ IT ALL IM SO SORRY) and also talk about him in a more philosphical manner such as his states of mind during each event etc and i’ve been meaning to read said book because im genuinely interested in arjuna now!!! and i’d like to know more about this indo prince because from what i’ve seen, he is portrayed in a rather bad light(?) in FGO which i find extremely !!!!!!!!!!! and incrdibley !!!!!!! strange !!!!!!! the mahabharata’s conflicts can be put in a mostly grey area where there’s no good nor bad, its not black and white. so seeing arjuna get bashed because of the way his conflict with karna was written is... hm. let’s say that im REALLY starting to understand arjuna fans that dislike seeing him get mischaracterized so much. OTHER THAN THAT, his design is adorable, his travel outfit is my favourite because he deserves to relax and have some fun!!! fgo making him a chuuni is cute and his VAs little moans are cute cute cute!!!!!!!!!!! (mash grabs my shoulder and forces me to sit down) i think that arjuna deserves better and im really happy to see him have fun in his travel costume voicelines. i think we should take arjun on a date!!! he’s a great lover, we’d have the best time!! OH ALSO, kama seeing him as the student council president in their interlude makes me SOOOOOOO HAPPY its unreal, i think it fits him very very well, the seitokaichou who was elected because of everyone’s hopes and recommended by teachers because he’s suuuch a good student but because of that, the pressure to be good is constantly towering over his head and everytime he looks out the window he wishes he could ditch class and skip a day just because he felt like going to the arcade and be a bad student.......just this once........i think hes very very cute...... i want him to cook for me. HAVE YO U READ HIS BOND 4 VOICELINE ?mmmmmggg i want him to get embarrassed everytime i praise him for having such a muscular waistline. AUG

ANEWAYS i also have quite the thoughts about karna, his characterization in the game is linked to arjuna’s and thats fine but i think that forgetting how much of a little sassy bastard he can get was a mistake! did you know that in apocrypha’s german dub on netflix, when jeanne calls his name like “You’re Karna, aren’t you ? The son of the Indian Sun God !” HES LIKE “So ?” AND THAT WAS SOOOO BITCHY OF HIM, i think that karna is a good boy in fgo but the fact that he was such a fighty old man in the mahabharata shouldnt be forgotten and is a charm trait. I MEAN ???? HE THREW HANDS WITH AN 18 YEAR OLD(ARJUN) WHILE BEIN LIKE... THIRTY TWO. WHATS WITH THIS ANNOYING OLD MAN !!!!! knowing these little facts about him made me like him so much more actually !! i think karna being so nice is adorable!! but the little bitchy energy u can find in his voicelines is also very charming!! i think karna looking at me emotionless as i ask him to lend me his notes for the nth time that week and then saying “...Mn.” when i thank him is cute!!! his voiceline towards things he dislikes is interesting to me. karna seeming aloof and mean bc he doesnt know how to communicate but is actually nice underneath...... hey... thats a little delinquentcore........ i wouldnt say yankii but hes like... hes like... u know hes the handsome quiet one of the group of yankiis... u know the one...? hey where are you going

ganesha is also a character im deeply interested in but i havent played CCC so i dont know that many details about jinako herself !! my brain goes HMMMMMM it seems lord ganesha is trans in fgo ! (since kama used to be a male god originally as well!!) ganesha uses all pronouns!!! and ganesha is also special to me because they share similar traits with kama when it comes to their characterization AND mischaracterizations. ganesha isnt JUST jinako. theres a part of a god in the servant mix!!! and jinako HERSELF is actually a pretty sad character imo. the whole otaku/neet thing is obviously a facade and her true wish being that she wants to redo her whole life is also proof of how much she hates what shes become, yet at the same time, she doesnt know what else she could do. but anyways, i prefer looking at servants from a lore POV so i think that ganesha should still be considered a god and be adressed as such!! i like seeing people portray ganesha as jinako but i prefer it when a certain lavish more godly side of them is put forward. a side of jinako that managed to move on a little bit if that makes sense ? that got more serious. and became someone else entierly despite sharing similarities. needless to say their bond with karna makes me happy since he shows them respect as you should towards a god!! its a bit different from their bond in CCC... like they matured somewhat!! anyway ganesha is the one who taught everyone else in the indo fam about video games and technology and i will NEVER shut up.

ashwatthama..... MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM %_’(’ç_”’è_ç(è_’”545656455456545453£¨¨µ¨µMµ¨++°=)=)°+ goodness. jesus christ on earth. my love story with him makes me so embarrassed. when he got revealed i instantly fell in love with him despite knowing JACK SHIT ABOUT HIM but since i was the only one in my friend group who was hardcore into fgo at the time, i kept my love for him to myself and just... (looks away)(i drop my wallet full of picturses of him) quietly adored his everything in silence. WELL, ree having an intense crush on yankii type characters isnt new, its been my favourite trope for ages (gyarus go in hand with them!!) and im still very attached to it so thats what made me love him in the first place!!!! BUT THEN. I GOT INTO HIS MAHABHARATAN LORE. And OHHHHHHHHH BABY.......... (im twirling my hair) so theres this 7ft tall war criminal..........<3<33<3(mash leans in and informs me that the convention of geneva didnt exist at the time) SO THERES THIS 7 FTTALL IMMORTALMAN.......<233 gOD he makes me absolutely CRAZY9909840385%£%%£%%µ%µ%µ the love i have for this character is immense and whenever im sad i remember that pako exists and has a tablet and can draw and i suddenly feel so much better. ok im gonna stop horny posting a little bit. but hes my wife. AND WHAT I LOVE ABOUT HIS PORTRAYAL IN FGO IS THAT, they actually made him a good boy despite his initial roughness and misdeeds ???!!! HELLO?? ashwatthama wishing for a redemption ark is my favourite thing and his righteousness that was born because of his regrets is a very interesting drivepoint to me !!! hes a gorgeous character and im buying a ticket plane as we speak right now so i can go find him in northern india. i’ll find him. GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME !!!!!GET OFF ME !!!

miss lakshimi makes me very sad! because every female servant in the indo fam is an already known face. (... would sita count.) and lakshi being a jeanneface is a waste. well, she’s still very pretty and her lore is also quite interesting!! i havent looked into it fully yet but i think she should be kissed on the mouth. her bad luck makes me slip on a banana peel whenevr i get close to her to kiss her and i hit my head on the pavement and pass away- 

parvati is on a tough spot for me atm. i genuinely love thinking of her as the way the indian goddess herself is portrayed because thats where the fun lies for me in her character. especially when shes involved with other indian servants, thats a given!! i would like to see parvati grow, suffer and heal. because branding her as an “all-knowing mom” is easy, but every single parent makes mistakes if you follow that logic. also, since shes the sakura servant “thats closest to her initial personality”, she’s got some of the most Repulsive fans ive Ever witnessed in fandom spaces and lets say that im trying to work my way out of this hellhole and find things to like about parvati without the fandom’s influence. needless to say, im going to keep looking into her mythos and her lore by myself at my own pace and keep doing my own thing in my little corner. 

rama shouldve been a jock. THE RAMAYANA IS OLDER THAN THE MAHABHARATA, WHY IS.....Hrm well him being summoned as his baby version gives me hope for a future rama alt perhaps??? but i think that he shouldve been a total jock and he shouldve been huge with a huge red lion-like mane for his hair and a teethy grin and big biceps and intense love for his wife. SPEAKING OF SITA, her charm point is her purity but i wish.... that their artist still hadnt drawn them like That, im not a fan of lily servants and i think purity = being young is a bit of an annoying excuse!!! rama and sita looking similar is because of their shared history which is fine but... rolls my eyes............. rama shouldve been 6ft tall and sita shouldve been a milf to match...... anyways i doubt ravana would be added as a servant but i’d love to have a ramayana centric event!! where all indo servants have their own lore centric role to play!!! oh thatd be a dream.... but i have learned to not expect much from a fanservice game so im jus gonna draw my own stuff! (strikes a pose!) (mashu claps!)

[kosmosian-quills]

An Adventure in Getting a Drink

I wrote a little interlude between the YOB pieces I am writing. This one is set between the Fear piece and the Joy piece (that i am currently writing).

I wanted to include this in the fear piece but I felt that it would make it too  long. I wanted to emphasise the length of time between the events though, and this came to me XD

Once again, huge shoutout to @shark8-my-leg​ for their help in answering all my prosthetic questions :D also to @cirianne​ for her idea on how this could go!

I hope you enjoy!

POV: Zofia

I need a drink.

Talk about bad timing though.

Mum said that she was going to do the food shop and wouldn’t be back for another hour, traffic dependent. Dad is busy in the garden changing the gate so that it’s more accessible for me. I can hear him drilling into the wall outside. It’s drowning out the noise from the TV that my parents had left on for me.

Besides, why should I wait to ask my parents to do something that I could just do myself?

A month ago, I would never have dreamed of asking my parents for something whilst I am sat here watching TV. ”You have two perfectly good legs there that you can use, young lady. Your programme will still be there when you come back.”

Oh, that sentence certainly didn’t age well.

What I wouldn’t give to have “two perfectly good legs”.

But one is good enough, right? At least to get me some juice.

Releasing the brakes on my wheelchair, I swirl around on the spot, slowly pushing myself between the two comfortable, navy coloured sofas in the living room. There’s a spot on the ground where you can tell that the seat had been placed for years. It’s dipped into the blue carpet, in the shape of the foot of the sofa, a large round circle. My right arm brushes against the fabric of the right-hand seat because I started to turn towards the door a split second too soon. It’s going to take some practice. I have only been using this wheelchair for two days.

The hallway has ample room for me, thankfully, even with the cabinet by the wall, the one that holds all the family pictures behind the glass windows. My latest school picture is front and centre - taken almost a year ago now. The wheels of my chair make a funny noise as they track along the wooden floor. A small noise, yet one that I have grown very accustomed to in the last few days.

The way the wheels bzzzzt ever so slightly on the wood, but then - silence - on the rug just before the kitchen door.

The door was closed, but it doesn’t have a latch. It never has - something Dad had intended to sort out, but I suppose now he does not have to. A gentle push with my functional leg and it swings open.

Getting around the house is so slow now, with my chair. I’m sure I’ll get faster eventually, but for now, it takes me much longer than it used to if I wanted to go from one room to the next. At least I can move around by myself in it. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I was supposed to stay in one spot without moving at all, like if I was still in the hospital and having to stay in bed.

The thought of not being able to move myself… compounded with everything else, I don’t think I would like that at all. Even now, going to the bathroom is a humiliating struggle - my mother has to help me in and out of the bath when I need to clean myself, like I am a toddler again. It’s irritating, but I know she’s only making sure I’m okay. I’m very grateful that I have a mother that does care so much.

I roll to a stop in front of the kitchen counter, looking at the spot where the plastic beakers are kept. This is a problem.

The beakers are kept right against the wall, out of my reach from where I am sitting. Honestly, I don’t know if I will even manage to get the beaker if I stand up. The only thing stopping me is that I am not sure I will be able to sit back down if I do get up.

I look around the kitchen, trying to see what I can reach. There’s the towels hanging off the hooks just on the edge of the counter but I doubt they will be much use. It would be helpful if I had something that I could use to just pull them away from the wall ever so slightly…

My eyes catch sight of the dustpan and brush leaned against the wall by the back door. The handle for the brush is almost like a closed loop. I bet I could use that to pull the beaker towards me! And even if I knock them over, they’re plastic, they’re designed to withstand some rough treatment, I think. At least they aren’t made of glass.

I put the brush on my lap, holding it between my upper legs, as I wheel my way back over to the beakers in question, stopping right up against the counter. I apply the breaks, just to make sure that I don’t move too far away, and carefully use the handle of the brush - the bristles tickling at the inside of my arm - to gently tug one of the beakers my way. The one I picked has a vibrant orange base that gradually gets clearer until it’s at the very top, where it is colourless. It takes me a few seconds, but eventually the cup is close enough to the edge of the counter that I can reach it from my chair without much effort.

Yes!

I prop the brush up against the counter as carefully as I can - I have no idea if I will need it again just yet - but place the cup between my legs.

Next, I need the blackcurrant cordial.

The drinks cupboard is just in front of me, under the counter. I wheel a little closer and reach to open it. It’s there, in front of me, among the bottles of lemonade and orange juice, the flavoured waters, and the other sugary drinks that are reserved for mealtimes only. The dark purple bottle is closest to me, and I reach in and grab it. It’s a lot heavier than I thought it would be, and I almost lost my grip, before resting it on my leg.

This is fine. This is something I have done dozens of times before. Well… before this. I used to grab the cordial, then climb on to the counter, pour the drink and dilute with water, all by myself, crawling around on the counter before jumping down and taking my drink away.

But this is already proving awkward.

The bottle is heavy, but the armrest is making it difficult to pour my drink. There is an unfortunate distance between the bottle and my cup. I don’t want to spill it, I don’t want to end up with a sticky, purple mess on my clothes.

Nevertheless, I manage it, slowly and carefully pouring it into my cup. I probably put a little bit too much in, but I prefer it stronger than weaker anyway. I replace the cap on the bottle and leave it on the floor for now. I’ll put it back in the cupboard in a moment.

But here is where I’m running into a problem.

I don’t think I can reach the sink whilst sat here in my chair. The taps are at the very back of the sink, and I can barely reach them if I am sat down.

I used to be able to reach the taps if I was stood on my tiptoes, but I’m not sure if I would be able to at all like this.

Well. I suppose there is no time like the present to find out.

I gently place my cup down on the counter beside the sink. I move my chair as close as possible to the counter, apply the brakes, and take a deep breath.

Gripping the armrests on either side of me, I tried to push myself up. I felt my leg tremble as I put all that pressure on it. I feel strangely lob-sided - well. Of course I do. I am missing an entire leg!

Once I have some semblance of balance, I quickly move my left hand from the rest and grab the edge of the marble counter, the lip is small, but it’s enough for me to grip and get my balance from. It doesn’t take much for me to move my other hand to join my other hand on the counter. Using my left hand to keep me steady, I move the cup over to the back of the sink, as far as I can reach it. Using the same hand to move the tap around until it is just over my cup.

Technically it’s on the surface rather than the sink, and I would rather avoid making a mess I cannot clean up. Turning on the cold water, I watch the liquid fill the glass all the way to the top, and quickly turn it off before it ends up everywhere. Yes! Another success!

I take a quick sip out of the cup, absolutely treasuring the sweet taste of the cordial as it slips down my throat. Oh, it’s lovely and cool. Just like we used to have during summer days spent in the garden.

I move the cup back to the edge of the counter, before trying to tackle the task of sitting myself back in my wheelchair. Slow and steady, that’s all I need to do. Carefully. I got up here just fine, so I know I can get down again.

I look over my shoulders, trying to see just where my chair is. I try to shuffle back a little, almost like a weird game of hopscotch, except all I can do is skip on the single  squares every time. I can do this. It’s perfectly simple. All I have to do, is let myself go, and I will land perfectly -

The feeling of falling sends my arm sweeping off the counter to reach behind me, except something was caught on its way around. Something that flew off the counter and clattered to the ground, the sound of liquid sloshing as it escapes the container.

My drink.

For a moment, I just sit there staring at it. The mess of purple liquid on the wooden floor, the beaker helplessly on its side. There’s a trail of juice sliding down the cupboard door that it managed to splash on to.

All that. I did all that, only to lose my balance at the very end, and ruin everything.

I can’t even think of a decent way for me to clean this without getting on the floor, and I’m worried that if I get down I won’t be able to get back up. Crawling around when you’re missing a leg is something I am still not used to.

That taste of cordial that lingers on my lips is taunting me.

I wheel around the puddle and reach for the brush once more, also making sure to grab a tea towel from the rack.

Fishing up the cup from the floor is a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. I push the cup towards the cupboards, just about forcing the bristles under the beaker. All I have to do is roll it up the side and on to the counter. It makes some small noises as it rolls around, coming to a stop on its own before it falls of the counter again.

The problem now is cleaning up the mess.

I throw the towel down, before using my new tool to try and push it around. I can’t properly get the juice that’s on the counter drawers, and I know that’s going to set and be all sticky soon.

This isn’t very efficient. The towel keeps pushing slight bits of juice out of my reach, making my attempts at soaking it up very difficult to keep on top of.

“Oh, Zosia, what are you -?”

I turn around and Dad is there, still holding his toolbox. I didn’t hear him come in, and it sounds like he’s just walked in. He takes in the scene. Me, holding the wrong side of a brush handle, a towel on the floor cleaning up a sticky mess, the cup I knocked over probably dripping on the counter.

Without me saying anything, he drops the tools and comes over. “I knew it wouldn’t be long before you started creating chaos, Princess. Making messes all over the kitchen? I should have known.” He says with a smile, taking the brush from me and picking up the purple-stained towel from the floor, taking it over to the washing machine over in the corner.

“I’m sorry, I wanted a drink…”

“Don’t worry, Princess. It was an accident, right?” he grabs some paper towels from the counter and finishes cleaning up the mess I made, “Honestly, I’m very impressed you managed all that by yourself. It’s just a shame you fell at the last hurdle.”

He picked up the cordial from the floor and grabbed a clean beaker from the collection, pouring some into the cup, before looking over at me.

“Do you want to try again? Without the spill this time? I’ll sweeten the deal for you - if you manage to not spill it, you can have a biscuit, just don’t tell your mother.”

I can feel the smile rise on my face at his offer. It’s made the entire house feel so much warmer than it’s felt in days.

[voiceless-terror]

Interlude (The Magnus Archives)

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Mikaele Salesa, Annabelle Cane

CW: Mental Deterioration/Memory Loss, Some Fluff but Mostly Angst, Spoilers for 181

This is not a home.

Martin is smiling. Jon thinks it’s the first time he’s seen him smile in a while. He likes it.

_______

Jon wakes up to a smile.

It is Martin, looking peaceful and well-rested for once. It cuts through the hazy fog of his mind and lands somewhere near his heart. He deserves a break, doesn’t he? He can see the grime etched into the lines on his face- lines that shouldn’t be there, lines that he caused. Outside the birds chirp and a breeze rustles the trees. This is not a home, but maybe they can play at it. An interlude.

The rooms are luxurious. Martin stretches and pours tea from an elaborate set provided by Annabelle. Jon is thirsty and hungry but he’s not going to take anything from a spider unless he absolutely needs to. Martin disagrees, and Jon doesn’t stop him. It’s probably fine.

There’s a lovely clawfoot tub, barely big enough for two but they make it work. Martin lovingly works through his hair, sorting out tangles and scratching lightly at his scalp. Jon aches with nostalgia, remembering the days of the cabin when Martin had first tentatively touched him after months of the Lonely. They were always touching after that- holding a hand here and leaning against a shoulder there. When Jon ruined everything the touches turned desperate, like clinging to a buoy in a storm. Martin pours tea but the tea isn’t tea it’s spiders-

“Jon?” 

He blinks. Martin has a hand on his shoulder. He’s relaxed, utterly at ease. They’re in Upton House. “You went away for a moment there. Still tired, eh? Me too.”

This is not a home.

When they’re clean and dressed in freshly-laundered clothes, Annabelle arrives. Creeping in the doorway, pointing them to a pantry and telling them to “make themselves at home.” They wait until she leaves to check it out. Jon follows Martin. He has already forgotten the way.

“Look at all of this, Jon! It’s like they raided a gourmet,” Martin scans the stacks, picking things up at random. He’s smiling so wide. Jon thinks it is the first time he’s seen him smile in a while. “What should we have?”

“Hmm.”

“Enlightening,” Martin rolls his eyes but is good-natured as ever. “How about some fruit?” He picks up an apple and holds it out enticingly. “Looks good!” he tempts with a sing-song voice. Jon doesn’t take it and Martin sighs. “Look, it’s only polite.”

“You can have some,” Jon replies. “I’d rather not.”

“You’ll have to eat sometime,” Martin says, taking a bite. “Time works differently here, I think.”

“Hm.”

There is opera playing somewhere in the distance. The house is so big the sound only reaches them in echoes. How long have they been here? His grandmother used to play opera while she cooked. She had a nice voice, humming along with the radio. Jon liked to watch her. It was their ritual in the evenings. She was trying. Jon played along. It was almost like a home, but not quite. Jon wishes for it dearly.

This is not a home.

Martin is already following the sound of the music, eager to talk to their host. Mikaele. Jon is eager too; the temptation of his story is almost too much to bear. He matches his pace and they reach a parlor. Martin knocks before Jon can stop him.

Mr. Spider has a guest! But Jon didn’t bring him a cake. Mikaele smiles and they enter. He’s not a spider, but he’s housing one. Isn’t that the same?

They’ve slept for 71 hours. Jon did not dream. He wonders if Martin did. Mikaele offers them a drink though it is far too early. Jon itches for one, strangely. But he shouldn’t, and he won’t. Their host is coy, leisurely pouring himself a drink and smiling like he has a secret. He does. Jon wants it. There is a tape recorder here and Jon wants to take take take but Mikaele just gives it a delighted smirk, as if the suspicious activity is an exciting turn of events. Jon asks. Mikaele refuses.

No? Jon is confused. He’s not used to being denied, not anymore. Mikaele and Martin laugh but he does not find it particularly funny. But Martin is smiling. Jon thinks it’s the first time he’s seen him smile in a while. He likes it.

Mikaele asks how it is out there in Jon’s world. Jon doesn’t remember. How to put it into words? Does he even have the words to do so? Jon doesn’t think so. He only knows that he is hungry in a way he hasn’t been in a long time, and out there he was not. 

Martin is talking. Martin is telling Mikaele about a quest to turn the world back to how it was. “Martin,” he admonishes. He doesn’t know why he is arguing with him. Martin sees the good, sees the potential and holds onto that desperate hope. It is infuriating but it is also what Jon loves about him. He is human and it is so, so beautiful. But Salesa is no salvation. He has carved out his corner of the world and he plans to stay.

Martin wants to stay too, for a bit. Jon knows this will not last- he would be too guilty, living in paradise while others suffer. And Jon can’t protect them here. Not from Annabelle. Doesn’t Martin know they need to be on their guard? Spiders only look for their next meal. Annabelle will devour them whole.

“Alright, I guess we can stay. Just for a bit.” Why does he say that? Jon is so tired. Martin is tired too. They deserve a rest in this nice big house. Jon has always wanted Martin to have nice things. For the first time he can offer something. 

Mikaele is talking but Jon isn’t interested in small talk. He wants to know. 

Look at him! Not three days without his master spooning knowledge into his head and he can’t bear it!

Mikaele is laughing but Jon is not. Martin asks again and the man indulges. It’s nice when Martin wants to know too. He knows he shouldn’t subject him to the statements when he doesn’t like it. But Jon wants to share his knowledge. He wants Martin to want it too.

Martin tells Mikaele he’ll behave. It’s impolite to badger your host, after all.

And Salesa is smart. Salesa prepared, Salesa survived. He is quick-witted and an excellent storyteller. Jon is entranced and he tries to drink it in but it is like empty calories, sweet and fleeting. 

I can die. 

… but still, if it means a comfort...anyway, no more stories I think.

You can’t trust comfort. But Jon tries, for the next few days. For Martin. Martin is at peace here and so is Jon, in a way. He’s never felt a hazy unknowing like this. Annabelle comes and goes but is never seen for long and Jon partakes in her gifts when the hunger gets to be too much. Martin tells him about the flowers and the trees. The sun hits their skin as they stroll the grounds. Jon can’t walk for long but he tries, because Martin is smiling. Jon thinks it’s the first time he’s seen him smile in a while. He likes it.

They see Salesa come and go. Sometimes they talk but Jon can’t remember what it’s about. The tape recorder hasn’t shown up again.

Martin curls around him in bed. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” he whispers.

“I think we need to leave.” Jon whispers back. It is the first real opinion he’s offered in days.

Martin pauses and then squeezes Jon a little tighter. “I know.”

This is not a home.

They pack and there it is. A tape recorder. Jon hasn’t seen one in days. He figures their peace wasn’t worth listening to, not for whatever is haunting them.

Martin asks one more time. But Jon can’t stay. He can’t remember how they got here. He is scared but the fear is gentle here. And that scares him more. He knows Martin will tire of this place eventually. But not in time for Jon.

Martin is worried about the implications of this. What happens if we actually do manage to- we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Jon doesn’t like to think about it. So he doesn’t.

Annabelle comes and Martin is angry. Martin wants answers. 

The sun felt nice, didn’t it? Jon can’t remember what the sun felt like. Martin pours tea but the tea isn’t tea it’s spiders-

“Jon?”

Someone is talking. Someone is asking questions. Is the knowledge even worth it? Annabelle is answering something.

Elias once said that Jon chose this. Every step of the way, he pressed on. 

Our world is made of choices, Jon, and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean, but we make them nonetheless.

But did he choose this? Jon doesn’t remember. For some reason, he wants a cigarette. He toys with the lighter in his pocket. 

Annabelle demurs. She is a spider, that’s what they do. Always behind the scenes, always underestimated. 

“I can handle myself.” Martin always has. Martin is strong. Martin doesn’t need him. But Jon needs Martin. And Martin chooses him. It’s a blessing he doesn’t deserve.

“...I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re leaving.”

Martin takes his hand and they move towards the door. Annabelle speaks again but Jon isn’t listening.

“That’s the trouble with old houses. Full of spiders.”

This is not a home.

Annabelle shows them out. It’s fine. Salesa comes to say goodbye, but Jon has to...has to...has to…

Leave, right.

There is opera playing somewhere in the distance. The house is so big the sound only reaches them in echoes. How long have they been here? His grandmother used to play opera while she cooked. She had a nice voice, humming along with the radio. Jon liked to watch her. It was their ritual in the evenings. She was trying. Jon played along. It was almost like a home, but not quite. Jon wishes for it dearly.

“Jon, let’s go.” Right, yes. They were leaving. Martin leads the way.

____

Jon feels better in the howling winds. He knows Martin does not, but Martin is brave. Martin is a kind soul. Martin couldn’t bear to watch others suffer when he thinks he can do something about it. And Martin chooses Jon, every time. Martin would never leave him and Jon is so, so afraid.

That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.

For the first time, Martin knows something he doesn’t. Jon is as delighted by this as he is saddened. The time slips from his mind like a dream he forgot to write down. 

It was nice. It was really nice.

Martin is smiling. Jon thinks it is the last time he will see it for a while.