#sand snakes fanfic

[westerosoliviapope]

And now the rains weep o'er their walls... | Scandal Westeros

"What are you doing here?" Robb asks. "I'm supposed to meet with Wyman."

Sarella's alone at a table. Dressed in a high collar black jacket, hair falling in silken waves around her shoulders. Her nude-painted finger tips play with the bottom of a glass that he knows is Dornish Red. The Sandstone varietal, if they have it. The generic Dornish blend if they don't.

"Now, you're meeting with me."

And there's no hint of either accent in her voice. No warmth or familiarity. Just the lifeless tone she uses to slice opponents to the quick. Except he doesn't know what they're warring over.

She left him. Found someone new.

"That's not an explanation," Robb says. "What are you doing here?"

"Well." She takes a long gulp, killing the entire glass. Then pours another.

And the words that leave her mouth are a dagger through the gut.

"Your fiancée wants you to stop fucking your secretary. So—"

She pushes a stack of papers across the small round table.

"—now, you're meeting with me."

Scandal Westeros (Episode Seven) on AO3.

[lidoshka]

Big sister

mmmh, I’ve been thinking about the relationship between Maglor and his sisters in the series “Everlasting song” by @amethysttribble

So have an image of Obara and her only brother Maglor!

[icaruspendragon]

was telling my therapist about how i've always used books, fanfic, and storytelling as escapism but now instead of me consuming stories, stories consume me. dalton gave me The Look (the one that means he's gonna say something i need to hear but don't want to) before asking, "you know that snake that eats itself?" to which i said, "yeah, ouroboros." and he replied, "i didn't know he had a name, that's cool. anyway, you're the snake. i know you've convinced yourself the consumption is filling, but it's not. when it's you you’re eating, it's destruction."

like yeah i know that’s not what the snake represents and ex-cowboy-turned-combat-vet-turned-trauma specialist dalton probably does not know the exact symbolism behind it but like. jesus christ man did that to lay me to waste at 10:30 on a wednesday morning.

and even though he hurt my feelings with the truth, it did put it into perspective for me.

it’s not levity’s lighthouse guiding me to port when depression’s darkness and anxiety’s turbulent waves make it difficult for me to sail smoothly on my voyage.

it’s not a way to alleviate my symptoms, it’s a manifestation of them.

it’s a compulsion, deceptively insidious when cloaked in distraction’s pseudo-warmth. when easily covered by procrastination’s much easier to swallow explanation.

and i’m sure you want to say “but reading is a healthy coping mechanism!”

and it is. when done in moderation.

it’s no longer coping when your screen time is 16 hours a day. when 12 of those hours a day are spent scuttling about ao3 on all fours. when you sit in the same spot on the couch for hours on end with your head buried in the sand. when it’s literally all you can think about.

the consumption isn’t coping. isn’t creation. isn’t reconstruction or rebirth or reformation. it’s chaos. it’s compulsion.

it’s cannibalism.

[mshroom1e]

A Ride For Two | Floyd x GN! Reader

I'm back after a long short writer's block. yayyy.

type: fanfic

Summary: Floyd steals borrows Kalim's magic carpet to take you out on a little nighttime escapade.

2.1k words

tag(s): friends to lovers, confession, painfully sweet fluff

Warning(s): none

Nightime was for sleeping. Wasn't it? That's what you thought, too. After a long day of chasing around your trio of best friends and keeping them out of any accidental trouble, you were nackered.

All was calm and silent. Grim was asleep at the foot of your bed, and your ghost roommates seemed to also retire for the day. You were comfortable in your nightwear, getting ready to pass out like a log for the next few - hopefully eight - hours.

Tap.

Ramshacke dorm sure was old. Random sounds of the inferstructute shifting on itself and other things creaking and tapping was like background music at this point. Barely different to the the way one thought of the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling upon contact with the wind.

Tap.

It was the sound again. This time, it was like the sound that happens when tapping on glass.

Glass.

You slowly got up from your bed. The wooden frame creaking as your body mass shifted across the mattress. Carefully, your feet landed on the floor with a quiet pat, hoping to keep your feline companion from stirring in his sleep.

A shadow loomed outside your window. A lanky one. Estimated to be around six feet and three inches tall. You squinted your eyes in confusion. Breathing in weird chemicals during alchemy class was really starting to get to you. The tapping continued as there was movement from the shadow on the other side of the clear barrier.

You quickly drew your curtains to the side and was met with the face of your favourite mer.

Floyd was at your window, sporting his mischievous grin and squinted eyes. Your eyes widened, and you shreaked, "Floyd?!"

His smile grew, and he said something in response, though you couldn't hear him due to the glass.

"Huh?"

He gestured for you to open the window, and you complied. As soon as you did, a mighty gust of wind rushed past, and the curtains fluttered, whipping around your body along with your clothes. You stared at Floyd with a starstruck expression, eyes wide and highlighted by the shine from the moon and stars with your mouth slightly agape.

"Floyd?" You breathed with confusion.

"C'mon, Shrimpy, let's go for a ride!" He held out his hand for you to hold onto and leaned in.

"What are you doing?!" You shrieked, "How are you flyiNg?!"

Floyd laughed at your panick and the way your voice broke at the end of your sentence.

He wordlessly leaned over to pick you up from under your arms like a toddler. You hovered in the air for a second before you were effortlessly hoisted up and onto whatever Floyd was floating on.

You blinked once. Then twice.

"Let's hang out," Floyd sang with his face inches away from yours.

"Wait, this carpet..."

"Yeah?"

"Is this Kalim's?!" Your voice cracked again, "How did you even-"

He simply laughed and watched your face change to an expression of panick, panick, and more panick with a hint of terror.

You stared him with your mouth hanging open in complete shock. You knew Floyd often acted upon his impulses and did some things that were out of the ordinary, but this was something you didn't expect.

"If Jamil finds out, he's gonna explode!" You shrieked, balling fists into your hair.

"Sea otter said it was fine," Floyd continued to smile his smug smile, "And if sea snake finds out, so what?"

So, Floyd didn't steal Kalim's magic carpet, aka one of the most precious items in the entirety of the Scalding Sands- or even the whole of Twisted Wonderland and beyond. Although, that didn't stop your mind from racing in sheer panick. What if you accidentally tore it? Or it got stained, and machine washing it would destroy its historical value or something, and it needed money to be fixed? You'd be stuck paying that debt for the rest of your life-

Floyd looked over at you in your bewildered state. A pair of large hands grabbed at your face by your cheeks and snapped you out of your trance, and you turned your eyes towards the owner of said hands. He squished your cheeks several times, staring at your various facial expressions as he did so. Ever since you got to spend more time with him, it was something that he often did when your brain went into overdrive and you blanked. Strangely, it always seemed to calm you down quite a lot.

"What if we have to pay for damages or something?!" Your brain was finally putting words together in coherent sentences again. That was good.

"Don't think about it now, shrimpy," He smiled at you softly, "For right now, just have some fun, yeah?"

You furrowed your brows and crossed your arms, "Don't wanna."

"But there's somewhere I wanna take you," He grinned at you cheekily, and you couldn't hold your resolve any longer.

"...Fine, but tell me where we're going!"

"It's a surprise!"

"Just tell me!"

"Don't wanna." Floyd mimicked you, and you sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night.

But at least the merboy wasn't dragging you all the way to the bottom of the ocean or anything crazy like that. Right?

When all was said and done, you found yourselves far away from campus and leaving Sage's Island. You looked around in awe in wonder. It truly was beautiful here. There weren't many landmarks aside from the two campuses on the island and trees, which seemed very close and very tall from the distance. The sky remained dark as the sun had long since retired for the day, the colors of blue darkening even further as the stars and full moon made their rounds.

Maybe it was the height at which you watched the island from, or it was the fact that you were with a certain teal-headed sophomore, but the view was much more breathtaking than you'd imagined it would be.

"It's so pretty up here," you sighed.

Birds flocked around and you turned to Floyd with a relaxed smile, only to find him already staring at you with an awestruck expression.

It was rare to see Floyd this quiet, as he was never shy of voicing his emotions whenever he wanted to. For once, he didn't seem like he wanted to be making jokes or teasing you. His head tilted back slightly as the breeze brushed through his hair, and you could feel your heart stammer for no good reason. You averted your gaze away and scratched at your ear.

"Thanks for bringing me up here," you mumbled with a gulp, a little sheepish from your earlier panick and apprehension.

He grinned and took your hand without hesitation, his fingers gently curling around yours, "Anytime."

The moonlight shone on the pair of you as the two soared towards the edge of the island that bordered the sea. The carpet slowly lowered itself down onto the sandy terrain, and you could see the water tumble over its own body a short distance away.

Floyd moved closer to you, taking your hand in his as if it was the most natural thing to do and lead you towards the water.

He left you at the water's edge and began removing his shirt, making your face burn.

"Uh...what are you doing?" You managed to croak, warmth still biting at your cheeks.

He smirked at you, "Going for a swim."

Before you could reply and even try and argue, you noticed that Floyd had slipped off his shirt and was now entering the water. Slowly, his smooth skin grew scales as his body changed colour. He'd transformed into his eel form after getting a feel of the water.

For a few moments, you watched him swim around, disappearing into the water and occasionally appearing out of it to glance at you with a grin. His movements were smooth and graceful. His tail moved lazily through the water and you noticed it was quite muscular but soft looking. Almost like a cat's, you thought absentmindedly.

Now that you thought about it, you'd seen Floyd in his mer form many times. Though for some reason, this time felt different. Maybe it was the way the moon rays reflected off of each of his glistened scales and the look of pure joy that graced his features as he swam freely. Or maybe it was because he had a playful, endearing twinkle in his eyes. He looked at peace and free, and that is what made you happy.

You were so caught up in admiring Floyd that you failed to notice his presence next to you as you subconsciously neared the shoreline. His cold, smooth tail stroked your calf. Startled, you stumbled backwards and fell over onto your butt, sending him into a fit of laughter.

Floyd giggled and grabbed your hand, tugging you closer to the sea.

"I'm gonna get wet!" You shreiked as you felt the chilly waves hit your feet.

Floyd pouted and furrowed his brows into an expression that looked more cute than angry. "I can just dry you with magic."

"But-"

"Come on~!" He drew out his words, and you sighed.

You reluctantly stepped forward until your feet made contact with the wet sand,

"Alright, alright! But if I get sick, I'm blaming you!"

His eyes lit up, and he pulled your hand again, dragging you across the wet ground and into the rising water. You yelped at how cold the water was on your skin and almost fell on your behind again. After the second time of stepping into the water, your skin tingled pleasantly, and the sensation made you smile.

Floyd let go of your hand to turn around and grab your waist before swimming backwards with you now in front of him. His arms wrapped around your waist protectively yet gently, and you could faintly feel his heartbeat through your now damp clothes. You were so close and close enough that you could see every single detail on his face.

Your eyes were locked onto his teal skin, and you felt as though someone was holding your heart tightly in their grip and wouldn't ever let go.

"Hey," Floyd called out to you, and it took you a moment to snap out of whatever spell you were under.

"Hm?" You glanced at him.

"I love you," He whispered quietly, his voice filled with such sincerity that felt almost alien to you.

You blinked.

Oh.

You stared at Floyd for a moment, stunned. Your mouth hung open for a moment, your brain scrambling to comprehend what he just said. The air suddenly became very thick and you were worried your heart would explode. All the blood in your body froze. You couldn't hear a single noise coming from anywhere, nor could you hear your own ragged breathing. All that seemed to matter was Floyd, who was currently gazing at you as if you were the most priceless treasure that he had ever seen. Your heart was pounding in your chest violently, thumping wildly as your eyes widened in surprise.

You weren't even sure what you and Floyd were. From the way he treated you compared to others, you knew he saw you as maybe a little more than a friend, but you were never certain. If anything, you hid your feelings for him throughout your friendship in hopes of not ruining a relationship you were already more than happy with. Floyd was impulsive and often did a lot of things considered out of the ordinary, sure, but the sincerity in both his eyes and voice said that this wasn't the case.

It seems like "best friends" was no longer an accurate description of your relationship.

Slowly, you felt a huge grin spread across your face. Floyd returned the smile, his pointy teeth shining brighter when the moonlight reflected against them, and his face illuminated with mirth. Then, slowly, his hands lifted themselves to frame your face, and he slowly leaned closer, bringing his lips to meet with yours in an awkward kiss. His lips were soft and slightly wet from the saltiness of the sea breeze. It felt wonderful. After a while, you broke apart slowly, smiling happily at each other, and a wave of jumbled but positive emotions washed over you. It was overwhelming. You couldn't believe it. You were happy, absolutely happy, ecstatic even! Why? Because Floyd loved you. That stupid fishface loved you.

"Me too," you breathed quietly as the moon's silver ribbons illuminated your eyes, "I like you a lot."

Maybe this interruption to your sleep time wasn't so bad after all.

◁--《

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Sugar Crash Void Bash: The Fanfic!

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3

CWs: Anxiety, snake mention

Chapter Four: Strawberry Shortquake

chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8

“Hngh!” Tippy hoists a large, sparkly blue suitcase onto the bed, “Alright, that’s the last of it.”

“Sweetie, you’ve said that three times now.” Vanilla rubs his husband’s royal blue hair.

“I know, Vans, but this time I mean it.” Ze chuckles. Ice looks around, then puts his hands on his hips,

“Did you pack any shoes, Termite?”

Tippy’s eyes widen and ze quickly unzips the suitcase. Ice lightly covers his mouth with a small chuckle as he watches his husband. Ramón walks into the bedroom’s open door, looking a little nervous. Ice turns to his son, while his husband picks out some shoes to bring,

“Hey, Foofs. Are you all packed up?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, papa.” The teen nods then clasps his hands together, “So. We’re going on some kind of vacation or business trip or…?” 

Ice frowns his brows, looking a little nervous. He gives a polite smile to his son, while his husband tries in vain to press zeir suitcase closed,

“Oh, we’re simply visiting my home country to…” Vanilla looks to his upper right, “expose you to a part of my culture which– that y-you have never seen before. You- this is for your enrichment and education.” Ramón nods slowly then looks away nonchalantly. What is the point in lying to me about what’s really going on? I’m not stupid, papa… 

After the plane trip

Ramón and his fathers leave the plane. The teenager looks outside the airport’s window with confusion, something he has also been feeling as he looked out of the plane’s window.

“Is something the matter, child?” Ice asks his son.

“Yeah uh… I always thought Egypt was just, like, nothing but sand. There's also... grass?” Ramón asks. Tippy immediately starts laughing. Vanilla sighs with an exhausted look, not only from the fact that his son has obviously not been paying attention in class, but because he knows a barrage of puns or plays on words are coming from his husband.

“Well, I guess you better get your grass to the table tonight, because we're gonna have sandwiches for dinner!” Tippy snickers.

“Oh boy...” Ice speaks with an exasperated expression. Tippy giggles and looks up at Vanilla. Ice gives his husband a scolding look. Tippy cackles loudly, making some people turn to look at what’s happening. 

“J-just-” Tippy holds onto Vanilla’s arm while Ramón cracks a smile, biting his lip trying not to laugh. The blue haired man continues, “J-just make sure you don’t wake up Vanilla’s mummy!”

“I don’t have a– ugh. Be quiet, Termite. Not another word from you until we get to the manor.” Ice shakes his head, a little annoyed, but also curious about what other puns his husband has to offer.

“What? Oh that’s not… Fair-oh.” Tippy’s hyena laughs are contagious, causing Ramón to giggle along with him, “G-get it? Pharaoh? Because–” He keeps laughing, “No? Well, I have more puns to keep you sarcopha-guessing!” 

“Tippy.” Vanilla turns sharply to his husband, stifling a chuckle and cracking a smile against his will, “Enough. *chuckle* That is inappropriate.” 

“Sorry, sorry. You know how I get when I’m nervous, baby.” Tippy pats Vanilla on the back. He mumbles, “N’Doul would make even worse puns.”

Ramón chuckles and looks around at the airport. It has been years since the teen had been out of the country. 

“Ice?” A familiar voice speaks, making Vanilla’s head turn in an instant.

“Oh, Terence.” Vanilla replies, “It’s been years.” He touches the small of his partner’s back, “Tippy, you remember Terence, hm? Oh, and this is my son. Ramón.”

Ramón shyly but coolly waves to Terence.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ramón. Wow… You look just like your papa. The resemblance is almost uncanny.” Terence nods at Ramón and glances over at Ice. Ramón smiles then looks away, very perplexed as to why he said that… Terence then turns his attention back to Ice, “Lord Dio has given me specific orders to bring you three back to the mansion. So follow me, you all.”

In the car

Ramón looks out the window of the car. He hears his fathers speak to Terence but doesn’t pay attention to what words they are saying exactly. Instead, he is more focused on the new country he is in. Soon enough, they arrive at the mansion. Terence parks the car and steps out. Vanilla opens the door for his son and smiles at him,

“Well, Foofy, we’re here. What do you think?”

“Whoa!” Ramón looks at the outside of the mansion. Tippy skips around in the little yard and up to the front door. Ice gently pushes Ramón’s back up to the stairs leading up to the door of the mansion. The family and Terence enter the mansion. It’s bitter cold and dark inside, save for a few electric lamps and candles scattered around. Tippy scoffs and leans toward Ramón,

“Tch, wow, and it looks like your ‘tío Dio’ still doesn’t believe in dusting.” 

Terence glances over to him,

“Yeah, well– yeah.” He brings the family up to Dio’s boudoir. Ramón can’t help but feel a bit uneasy when they reach their destination. 

“Ah… there you are.” The golden locked, ivory fleshed man speaks as the door opens. A toothy, fang filled grin spreads across his ancient yet youthful face. He trots over to Ice, planting gentle kisses on either of his cheeks. He leans down and kisses the back of Tippy’s hand, with a grin. Suddenly, his amber eyes land on the bubblegum haired adolescent before him,

“And this… this is the fabled Ramón.” The pasty white man stretches out his hand, tipped with inky black claws, to the young boy. Ramón looks to his papa for reassurance. Ice nods at his son. Ramón hesitantly shakes Dio’s hand, feeling the cold, clammy, corpse-like flesh on his own. 

“Well, well, well…” Dio speaks, his voice low and sultry, soothing to the ears yet something is eerily off about it… very inhuman, quite divine yet unholy. Everything about this man is a walking contradiction it seems, “How are you enjoying your vacation thus far? Hm?”

“O-oh, uh…” Ramón looks to his parents then back at Dio. He gulps then sheepishly replies, “It’s pretty cool, heh!” Dio nods his head, turning to Ice and Tippy,

“It’s uncanny how much he is like the two of you… both in appearance and demeanor. Even as an infant, it was just mystifying, the resemblance.” This makes Ramón confused yet again. This is the second time he has been physically compared to his adopted fathers. E-even as an infant?! What?! Ramón’s heart rate skyrockets.

Dio inhales and speaks again, “At any rate, I suppose it’s time I introduce you to your rooms, hm?”

That’s when an equally as large and buff older man, albeit just a bit chubbier, with blue hair and beard stubble, walks by the room, reading a book.

“Or better yet,” Dio snaps his fingers, “Jojo.”

“What is it–? Oh! Guests!” He closes the book shut, “How quaint, I–” He pauses, “Oh my stars… it can’t be! Mr Ice? Gratuity?”

“Jonny!” Tippy runs over to him and gives him a hug. Jonathan wraps his arms around the petite man, giving a hearty chuckle, “Man, I am never gonna get used to you being so tall… or having arms! And legs! And… everything below the neck! Haha, and you have a beard now!” Ze takes Jonathan’s arm and pulls him to zeir family, “Look, look. Vans and I got married and had an itty bitty!” Ze points to Ice and Ramón. Jonathan clasps his hands together,

“Oh, how precious! What a darling little family you have here, dear friend.” Jonathan shakes Ramón’s hand with a polite smile, “What an honor to meet the child of Mr Ice and Gratuity.”

“Jojo, show them to their rooms. The happy couple will stay in Ice’s old room, Ramón will stay in Gratuity’s old room.” Dio dismisses the four.

On the way to the rooms

“Wait, wait, hold on a second,” Ramón speaks, “So let me get this straight; you were a severed head in a jar. My papa and daddo used to take care of you, and Mr Dio is a vampire?!”

“That is correct, dear boy.” Jonathan confirms.

“...What is going on here exactly?!” Ramón shakes his head in confusion. The three adult men all exchange looks with each other, turn to Ramón and speak in unison,

“We don’t know.”

“H-huh–?!” Ramón gives them all an incredulous look. Jonathan raises his hands up and speaks cheerfully,

“Oh, it certainly is spectacular to have you two in the manor once again!” He shows them around, “It has been a while, yes indeed. As you may notice, we have made some adjustments to our living quarters.” 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed there’s different people working here too,” Tippy begins, “Terence and N’Doul are still here though.” Jonathan nods and points to some new decorations, 

“Of course. Oh, look at these, so delightful. Mr Ice?”

“Yes, Mr Jojo?” Vanilla responds. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but we spruced up your old room a bit.” Jonathan opens the door to Vanilla’s old room. It’s clean and pretty fancy as opposed to how dark and gloomy it used to look, “Dear brother didn’t tell me that you all were arriving, so pardon the dust.”

“No, no, it’s alright, Jonathan.” Ice looks around, memories of his time in the mansion flooding back to him. Nostalgia and dismay of the recollections fill his heart. Tippy immediately jumps face first on the bed while Ice looks around and touches his old sliding closet doors. Ramón points to the right side of the room,

“What’s in there?” 

“Oh, that’s the bathroom, Foofy. Your papa had his own bathroom too.” Ice turns to look at the bathroom door across the room, remembering the first time he and Tippy had showered together. A small smile creeps upon his lips as he looks back on that memory fondly. 

“So… you were basically Mr Dio’s…?” Ramón asks slowly, his voice trails off at the end of his sentence.

“Servant.” Ice glances back at his son, “Yes, I… I was Lord D– ahem, Mr Dio’s servant for a time.”

“Lord Dio?” Ramón tilts his head, much like Tippy does when he’s confused. Ice feels his cheeks grow hot and he nibbles the inside of his cheek,

“Yes, because he is the ‘lord’ of this mansion, my child. You know how there are lords and ladies? Well, he is a ‘lord’.” 

Tippy pipes up,

“Oooh, I thought it was because you practically worshipped the guy–” 

“Tippy.” Ice grits his teeth and scolds his husband softly. The blue haired gentleman looks back and forth between Ramón and Vanilla, 

“I-I’m just kidding! I was just joking, Ramón!”

It’s a little bit of an awkward silence. Jonathan rubs his neck and turns away,

“It’s such a pleasure to have you back, old friend. Alright, dear boy,” He turns his attention to Ramón, “Come with me and I shall show you where you will be staying.”

The two of them leave the room.

Ice sighs and sits on the bed, hanging his head and looking ashamed. Tippy gently touches zeir husband’s shoulder. The brunette looks over at zem with a dejected expression,

“Please don’t tell him…” he looks down at his hands, “about who I used to be. I don’t– *sigh* I don’t want him to think of me in such a bad light.”

“I’m sorry, Vans. I wasn’t thinking.” Tippy rubs Ice’s shoulder.

“It’s alright.” He touches zeir hand, “I was at my lowest point. I did things I’m not proud of. I let L– Dio, goddamn it, humiliate me… sometimes in front of guests. I-I was so blinded by what I thought was love to even think for myself.” 

Vanilla looks up at the top of the door frame for a while, then back down at his hands,

“I worshipped him like a god because he saved my life… you know what I did. He treated me so kindly, with a tenderness I have never felt in my life…” he turns to his husband with a warm smile, “That is… until I fell in love with you.”

“Awww, Vanilla. You soft serve.” Tippy gives Vanilla a little peck on the lips. The brunette holds both of Tippy’s hands gently,

“Then you showed me what real love is like. What it actually feels like to have somebody care about me…” He delicately caresses the cheek of his lover, “I couldn’t ask for a happier ending to this fairytale.”

Tippy chuckles and happily hums against the touch of Vanilla’s knuckles. Ze lightly touches Ice’s left bang, admiring the grey and white streaks mixed with the original brown hair,

“I’ll love you forever and ever… you’ve become such a handsome older man, you know? I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you.”

Ice chuckles, a pleased smile plastered across his face. Those beautiful smile lines on his face, indicating how many years he has spent smiling and laughing rather than frowning and sulking, crease on the corners of his mouth. The delicate little crow's feet on the corners of his honey sunset brown eyes scrunch up with joy. He presses his lips, lightly glossed with his favorite vanilla scented lip oil, right in the middle of his husband’s forehead. 

Meanwhile

“Alright, lad.” Jonathan opens the door to a bedroom, “This one used to be your father’s room! Er, your other father’s room. The one with the blue hair that is.” Ramón enters the guest room and looks around. It’s a little smaller than his papa’s old room. The bed is up against the wall, as opposed to being in the center like in the other bedroom. Ramón sets his luggage down and turns to Jonathan,

“Thank you, Mr Jonathan.”

“Oh, it’s never a problem, dear boy!” Jonathan gives him a warm smile, about to close the door, but he remembers something, “Ah, and feel free to raid the fridge. Just don’t disturb my wife!”

“W-what?!” Ramón recoils in shock.

“Ahahahohoho! I jest, my boy, I jest!” Jonathan chuckles, “Have a pleasant stay, and a good night.” He closes the door gently. Ramón sits on his bed, relaxing a bit. He touches the blanket a little…

“Something tells me he wasn’t joking.”

It’s a restless night, filled with tossing and turning. Chills crawl down Ramón’s back, yet beads of sweat pool across his face. The teen trembles with fear of an unknown threat, clutching his chest with shaking breath as he stares up at the ceiling. Behind his eyes, a cryptic dream of snakes coiling around his limbs plays, all with eyes of crystal, until they make their way to his throat, strangling the life out of him until his eyes go grey. The young boy lays on his side, clinging to his pillow for any semblance of comfort. 

After what seems like an eternity,

Tuk tuk tuk

Ramón jolts up and gasps sharply.

Tuk tuk tuk

“Foofy?” his papa’s voice speaks through the door. Ramón hesitantly climbs out of bed. His hand trembles as he reaches for the doorknob.

Krrrrrrrr

The door opens with a creak. Ice looks down at his son with a sweet, adoring smile. Ramón internally breathes a sigh of relief,

“G-good morning, papa. What’s up?”

“Hmhm, we need you to go ahead and get dressed for the day.” Ice softly rubs his son’s curly pink hair, “Mr Dio wants us all to meet in the dining hall for breakfast. He has some important news to tell us.”

“Oh, y-yeah! Sure. I’ll be right there.” Ramón rubs his neck. Vanilla leans down, about to plant a kiss on his son’s forehead, but he catches himself. Instead, he gives Ramón a polite smile and nods,

“Of course, dear. I love you.”

Ramón gives a nod and a smile right back before closing the door and getting ready. 

In the dining hall

Dio is sitting down at the end of the table, daintily sipping on a mimosa. Vanilla and Tippy are sitting next to each other, touching hands and chuckling between themselves. Jonathan is finishing up setting the table with many different breakfast food options. 

Ramón shyly and hesitantly walks into the large room through the open archway. Dio chuckles,

“Ohohoho, there he is.”

Ramón makes an awkward smile and lazily waves at those at the table. Ice gestures for his son to sit nearby. The pink haired boy obeys and sits next to his fathers. Dio takes a sip of his mimosa and hums a bit,

“Mmm… try some of those pancakes, lad. Add a little bit of powdered sugar, berries, and maple syrup on top,” he does a chef’s kiss, “divine.” 

Ramón nods and helps himself to some breakfast along with his fathers. Everyone begins to feast for a while. Dio clears his throat and turns to Vanilla,

“Ice.”

“Yes, sire?” Ice instinctively asks. Ramón tilts his head,

“Sire?” 

Dio chuckles and takes another sip of his drink as Vanilla’s cheeks heat up. Dio speaks before Ice can say anything,

“Something important I have been meaning to tell you,” He stands up and approaches the brunette. He drags his hand along Ice’s shoulders, stopping at his right shoulder. The blonde leans down and speaks into his ear softly,

“There is… somebody I’d like you to meet…” the vampire pats his shoulder and walks away. As he’s halfway to the archway, he glances behind him at the others,

“I’d like the rest of you to meet him as well. I’m certain he will make an important ally.”

When Dio says that, Vanilla gets tense. He was under the impression that this all was supposed to be a secret from Ramón. It looks like all of that just went out the window now.

Important ally? Okay, this just got weirder. What is going on?! Ramón thinks to himself.

To be continued…

[emilylawsons]

hi there! ❤️ top 5 all time fanfics! top five 5 books (of your favourite genre)! top 5 quotes!

Oh, man these are tough! But thank you for playing ❤️

Fanfics:

Shivered Bones by @elialys (Fringe)

These Lines Etched in Sand also by @elialys (TLOU)—I’m obsessed with her entire library of fic tbh but this one has a special place in my heart

august by @seethesunny (TLOU)—another amazing Tessjoel writer who writes the most beautiful one-shots

Interstellar Overdrive by @hypnotisedfireflies (TLOU)—all of her Tessjoel writing is incredible and expansive—the Driftersverse is *chef’s kiss*—this one is my absolute favorite

A Soul For Sale or Rent by @bumblepony (TLOU)—I need to read more of her fic. This one just tugs at my heartstrings so much.

Honorable Mention: Stubborn Love by @wreckedtodeathandback (TLOU) which I am too early in but absolutely adore

Books (I don’t have favorites because I’ve been out of solid reading until a month or two ago, but here is what I’m reading right now):

The Otherworld by Abbie Emmons

The Graham Effect by Elle Kennedy

A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

In the Time We Lost by Carrie Hope Fletcher

The Housemaid by Freida McFadden

Quotes—gonna be real, this one is just a bit overwhelming to think about.

Ask me my Top 5 anything!

[randomfanficsandxreaders]

MasterPost

Below are all the Xreaders/Fanfics I am making or have made. Organized by Fandom

Requests: Open

ULTRAKILL:

Machine's Mercy [Finished] V1 xReader

Rivals By Design [Finished] Yandere!V1 x Reader / Jealous!V2 x Reader

A Stinging Feeling [Finished] Gabriel X V1

A Machine of Greed [Finished] V2 x Reader

Pathetic [Finished] V1xV2

A Snake In The Sand [WIP] MinosxSisyphusxV1xGabriel

SCP FOUNDATION:

Like a Feather [Finished] Yandere!SCP049 x Reader

Clean Containment [Finished] SCP049 x Reader

Secure File [WIP] SCP-079 x Reader

OTHER [Fandoms I've only done 1 thing for so far]

Moth and a Flame [Finished] Yandere!Pyro x Reader [Platonic] [TF2]

Mouse Trap [WIP] Pyramid Head x Reader [Silent Hill]

[bcbdrums]

A Touch of Warmth

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

Sixth in my series of 31 prompt-based one-shots (filling them out of order; this is prompt 5). Prompts from this list.

A/N: More of the academy days for my faves, but super early this time. I wanna say...maybe just a few months of partnership here. And living in cheap academy dorms haha. Imagine a sad college dorm room I guess. Stein is only 10 years old and Spirit is 13. Long, long, rambly stream of consciousness relationship stuff that I wrote like...in the first week of December. And then didn't finish until just now (late March) and there was only a little bit left to go. Oops. Wonder how much that gap impacted the story/writing style... If you like long rambly things that don't really have a point, well, here you go. Enjoy. 5. Puzzling

A Touch of Warmth

An icy chill like breath across his cheeks was what roused Spirit from sleep. He shivered and then blinked twice before tightly closing his eyes again. Even the air was cold, assaulting the tender moisture beneath his lashes like the slap of cold water.

After taking another moment to realize he was awake and not dreaming, he fully processed the freezing sensation as one he should not be feeling on a desert morning. He clutched his blanket close to his chest and sat up in bed, squinting. White was what overwhelmed his blurred vision, and he snaked an arm out of his warm cocoon and felt almost blindly along the windowsill until his fingers met something very cold and wet.

He gasped and drew back, blinking until his sight clarified to reveal what it was he had touched.

Gathered on the sill near the open window were a line of melting snowflakes.

Spirit's jaw fell slack as he reached out to touch a cluster again, watching it turn to water rapidly even as it cooled his fingertips. But when he looked up and out the window his eyes went wide.

Where there should have been dirt, stone, and dried grasses in the backyard of the dormitory there was only white, and the sky was gray as snow fell in lace-like curtains, thick and silent, covering the landscape as far as the eye could see.

It was several moments of staring, captivated by the scene and breathing the icy air, before Spirit reached out to slide the window closed. And then he spun around to face the bed of his roommate.

"Hey Stein, wake—"

Spirit blinked. His very young meister was not in his bed.

The red-haired teen took stock of their tiny dorm room quickly, noting the boy's blankets uncharacteristically tossed back and his pair of shoes sitting neatly next to his desk. It appeared as though Stein had gotten under his bed at some point, because the corner of a box was sticking out near where the blankets were carelessly draped down to the floor. Then Spirit noticed the door to the hallway was ajar.

"Stein?" he said again as he glanced once more around their small room. The boy was definitely not there.

Spirit threw his own blankets aside and hurriedly dressed, selecting warmer clothing than he would ever choose for a day in Death City but something he was more likely to wear on an extracurricular assignment far further north. He gaze was continually drawn to the astonishing view through the window as he fumbled with a pair of boots, still not quite believing that a seeming winter had arrived in the middle of Nevada.

He had experienced snow a couple of times in his life, but never at leisure, and nothing at all like what he was seeing outside as it seemed to be sticking to sand and stone, transforming the barren landscape to one of wonder and quiet mystery.

"Stein?" Spirit asked again, peering down the hallway after pulling the door open. The dormitory was dark and silent.

Spirit's brow furrowed as he turned toward the bathroom that all the students in his wing shared, wondering if that was where the boy had gone. His meister operated like clockwork, and it was the startling deviation from the norm that had Spirit perplexed and was driving him to find his partner almost as much as the desire to share his newfound excitement at the change in the weather.

Most of the students in their building had gone home for the holidays, but both Stein and Spirit had declined that privilege, neither offering any explanation to the other. And Spirit was glad for his decision, knowing the snow wasn't anything he would have seen otherwise.

"Stein?" he whispered, peering into the darkened bathroom but already fairly certain of what he would find. Every stall door was open, the showers and sinks were silent, and the lights were off.

Spirit stuck his lip out in annoyance at the same time his brow furrowed in worry. He'd wanted to enjoy the experience of the fresh falling snow with his meister. But as Spirit turned to walk toward the front door concern began to overtake his initial elation. Just where was the boy?

It wasn't that he didn't think Stein couldn't handle himself; the few combat training classes they'd already had proved that he could. But the meister was just so young, and he looked it. Spirit was barely thirteen and this was the first time he'd been on his own, but in the few months they'd been roommates he could tell that the silver-haired ten-year-old was already accustomed to fending for himself.

Spirit had no background on his meister, and the boy was distant without being blatantly rude. He seemed to genuinely not know how to interact with their peers along with something else Spirit couldn't yet place. But the teen was patient, and Lord Death had specifically chosen Stein to be his meister. That alone was worth everything.

He pushed through the front door of the dormitory and a biting chill rushed in along with a few flurries of snow. Spirit grinned, a chuckle rumbling in his chest as he closed his eyes and took in the feel of the ice hitting his face like unforeseen kisses, softly leaving their mark before vanishing and stirring his thoughts toward the ethereal and imaginative. There was a promise of something new in the snowfall, and Spirit wanted to take advantage of every moment of it.

He stepped fully through the door and into the wall of white, his boots almost soundless as they pushed through the drift that had already built up in the uncovered entryway. And that’s when he saw the single point of color: a telltale shock of silver hair.

Next to one of the benches that lined the sidewalk to the dorms knelt Franken Stein. Snow had collected in a thin layer atop his head, shoulders, and the backs of his legs, though one could hardly tell for the plain white pajamas he wore, causing the boy to be almost invisible in the newly whited-out landscape. He was bent over some small mechanical device placed on the bench, his concentration so full that he didn’t notice when Spirit closed the door. Another point of color were the pale soles of his feet; he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Stein?” Spirit asked in surprise, hurrying forward. His delight at the weather had wholly evaporated at the sight of his young meister barely clothed out in the cold. “What are you doing?”

The boy didn’t reply, but scowled at whatever it was he was looking at. He reached for the device and Spirit recognized a microscope as he approached. Stein had picked up a small glass slide, and Spirit watched as he leaned back from the bench to slowly wipe it on the hem of his shirt, and then hold it out to catch a few falling snowflakes. His hands shook as he replaced it under the lens and quickly leaned down again, turning the focus knob to bring his subjects into clarity. As Spirit finally stopped next to the bench he could see it wasn't just Stein's hands, but his entire frame shaking from head to toe, and his usually colorless lips were a frightening shade of blue.

“Stein!” Spirit cried in protest, his voice rising in pitch.

“Don’t breathe.”

Spirit blinked, the harsh but monotone directive confusing his train of thought.

“What?” he asked, but held his breath nonetheless.

“They melt too fast if you breathe.”

Spirit rapidly went through the arguments in his head that he wasn't even near the snowflakes on the slide, and that Stein himself was so cold now that he'd be surprised if he had any warmth left in his lungs. But none of those words came out as somehow, as always, he was drawn like a magnet to his meister's side and knelt down, curiosity rising in him despite the chill beginning to penetrate his coat.

"What are you looking at?"

"The structure of the snowflakes."

Spirit looked at the cluster of white that had in fact already begun to melt on the slide under the lens, and then back to his meister, his face hidden as he stared down through the microscope.

"So far they are perfectly symmetrical and each one has six branches, but no two are alike. The probability of two being the same eventually is strong, but..."

Stein stopped suddenly, and Spirit watched the meister move his hand away from the focusing knob, place it between his thighs where his left hand was already hidden.

Spirit frowned.

"Get up."

"What?"

Stein was still peering into the microscope.

"Get up or I'm picking you up."

That got the meister's attention. His eyes snapped to Spirit's, confusion overlaid by defiance and something else hard and threatening. It had only been three months, but it had taken less than a day of acquaintance for Spirit to learn that the boy would not tolerate being touched without express permission.

"You can't do this like this," Spirit continued. "You're going to freeze to death."

Stein's expression didn't change.

"If you want to be helpful you could get me a notebook to record my findings. You don't have a camera, do you?"

Each word was spoken through trembling blue lips, and Spirit noticed that the rest of the boy's unnaturally pale skin was rapidly changing hue. His heart began racing as he made his decision, not knowing what the ramifications would be but knowing that he had no choice.

Stein didn't speak when Spirit stood, but when the weapon's gloved hands came down under the meister's armpits he jerked away with a strength Spirit wouldn't have thought him capable.

"Don't touch me!" was the protest that sounded before the boy began fighting back, pushing and beating against Spirit's shoulders, but the weapon was determined.

It was a battle of hands and arms and legs and feet as he half-fought, half-dragged Stein back into the dormitory hall, tuning out every word of protest that was laid against him with each step. He only finally paid attention again when Stein managed to free one arm just inside the door and landed a glancing blow against Spirit's cheek.

He shuddered in response, not letting go but halting the movement of his feet. The hit may not have fully connected, but it was still hard and for a moment the world was spinning and Spirit's only point of focus were his hurried breaths and the heavier panting of the younger boy upon whom he still had an iron grip.

When his eyes refocused on Stein's face the meister appeared shocked—quite the change from his typically guarded expression—but his skin was still unnaturally blue, and there was something off about his eyes even past the unusual expression. It sent a wash of fear through Spirit that rapidly overrode the pain of the punch.

He reached past Stein and kicked the door closed hard.

"Stein. I'm not going to let you die out there because you were too stupid to get dressed before running out to play in the snow."

"I... I wasn't..." Stein began, still breathless and something definitely off about his vision.

Spirit ignored the pulsing of pain in his cheek and while Stein was distracted, he scooped the smaller boy up like he would a toddler and stalked hurriedly down the hall.

"Hey! Stop it!" was Stein's weak protest this time, and Spirit noted he was struggling a lot less than when they'd been pushing through the ankle-deep snow outside.

When he reached the bathroom he all but dropped Stein for how much he was twisting to escape. When the meister's feet hit the tile he slipped on his wet, bare soles and would have hit the floor had Spirit not still had his hands on him. Stein clung to Spirit's arms in surprise, not having expected the backward plunge, and when Spirit had righted them both he finally let go.

He reached back to hit the light switch and Stein flinched away, holding a hand up to cover his eyes as his breaths still came far too heavily for the minimal exertion of the struggle to get indoors. When he finally squinted at Spirit his expression fell to shock again. It finally occurred to the red-head that there was something other than the fact that he'd interrupted Stein's ill-conceived experimenting that had shaken the boy, and he turned around to see his face in the mirror.

Spirit nearly gasped for how utterly terrified he looked. Terrified and furious, perhaps in a way that his young partner had never seen another person look before, if the way it froze the boy in place was any indication.

Spirit knew he needed to calm down, calm his expression and be reasonable so he could explain to his meister just how dangerous his actions had been. But as he turned back to face the boy he only felt the anger swell to a greater presence in his soul.

Stein's clothes were nearly soaked through, the white of the pajamas turned gray from moisture and his hair darker for it. The color of his skin was wrong. He was visibly shaking from head to toe, and his vision was hazy and seeming unable to really see Spirit even though his eyes hadn't left the red-head since the moment he'd let him go.

Spirit opened his mouth to speak, but the movement of his jaw caused his cheek to sting where Stein had punched him. He hissed and reached his fingers up to the spot before jabbing his other arm past Stein to point, the motion causing the boy to jump.

"Get in there," he commanded coolly, his voice low and laced with threat. "Get under some hot water and sit down. I'm going to get you some dry clothes."

Stein's expression of shock remained, the boy still frozen by the look on Spirit's face. They remained unmoving for several moments, but when the meister's breaths began to even out he finally turned toward the showers to comply with the weapon's words.

It wasn't until Stein had fully obeyed, letting the shower run until the water was warm and then stepping under the stream and sitting down to lean against the tiled wall, that Spirit finally turned to go.

He let his anger carry his feet briskly back toward their shared bedroom, blindly going through the motions once there of making Stein's bed, dragging the only spare blanket from the closet to place atop it, and then yanking his own bedding free to add on top of that. Horrible scenarios were racing through his head of what he might have found out in the snow instead of his insatiably curious young meister studying the patterns of snowflakes had he slept in a little later, or decided to enjoy the surprise of the weather from the comfort of his bed.

Spirit stopped abruptly from where he'd been casting off his winter outerwear and blinked at nothing as the realization struck.

Stein had been looking at snowflakes.

The fear crashed fully over Spirit's anger, obliterating it as the teen sat down on the floor and began to cry. He could have lost his meister, might still lose him, because the boy had been just as excited about the snow as he was.

If he hadn't immediately gone outside to play...

Spirit didn't know how long he cried, but the sudden realization that he could still lose Stein drove him back to the present. He didn't know anything about frostbite or hypothermia or any other manner of freezing-induced ailments. They were all alone in the dorm and he had no one to call for help since everyone had left for the holidays. And just how long had he left Stein alone in the shower with his vision hazy and his pallor looking near death?

Spirit stood so fast it made him dizzy, made his cheek throb where he'd been hit, and he rummaged through Stein's drawers until he finally found the boy's thicker socks for winter assignments along with underwear and more pajamas. As an afterthought he grabbed his own thick bathrobe and then both of their towels before turning to run back down the hall.

He slowed his step before entering the bathroom, terrified of what he might find. At least he could still hear the shower running, but...was that a good sign? Instead of entering he peered cautiously around the doorjamb.

Stein looked exactly as Spirit had left him, seated against the tile and curled tightly in on himself as the warm water poured over him. His arms were folded atop his raised knees and his hands were tight in fists, and his face was hidden where it lie on his arms. Spirit licked his lips and took a cautious step forward, and then another. There was no reaction from the meister.

Spirit paused, took in a silent breath...and then he flicked his eyes sideways to the mirror. He didn't look angry anymore, although he could still see it rise behind his eyes the moment he thought about it. No, now he looked every bit as scared as he felt, perhaps even more than when he'd drug Stein back indoors, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying.

Any other time Spirit would have been annoyed by his transparency, but since it had seemingly helped to get his meister to comply he decided he didn't care.

He turned back toward the small, gray form in the shower, felt his heart rate quicken as he mustered the courage to speak.

"Stein?"

Stein lifted his head.

The relief Spirit felt was enough to make his knees go weak, and he leaned on the counter to steady himself as he set the clothing down and draped the two towels over his arm. He sucked in a few breaths, looked up to the mirror again and saw a brightness fitting itself behind the fear in his eyes, and he grimaced before turning to approach the meister.

"You, uh... You ready to come out of there?"

Stein didn't respond, only watched Spirit's approach, watched him stop about five feet distant, his expression having returned to its usual dull, esoteric impassivity. And as his eyes locked on Spirit's the red-head thought he looked even more withdrawn than before. But, blessedly, perhaps less hazy.

He didn't know if staying under the warm water longer would be better or worse for Stein's recovery, but his own anxiety couldn't stand the inaction. He pursed his lips and stepped forward, reaching around the stream to turn the water off.

Stein slowly began pushing himself upright, his eyes not having left Spirit's face even to blink.

"Uh...here," Spirit said, holding out the two towels. After a moment, Stein slowly reached across the distance to receive them. "There's clothes on the counter, uh..."

Spirit realized he needed to give the meister some privacy to change, and he thought quickly.

"I'll go get you something warm to drink. I'll uh...I'll be right back."

Spirit turned and hurried out of the bathroom as quickly as he could, making long strides down the hallway.

The tiny kitchen that could hardly be called such was at the other end of the building, and Spirit didn't want the meister out of his sight for any longer than was necessary just in case there was some delayed danger to whatever cold-induced condition he'd brought upon himself.

As Spirit passed the main entry he took careful steps to avoid the melted snow that had found its way inside from the struggle through the doorway, and then something occurred to him that halted his rush.

He turned and dashed back out into the icy air, his breath catching instantly as cold assaulted his body. He grimaced at the irony that it was now he who was under-dressed and risking himself in the elements, but he picked his way through the piling snow to the bench where the microscope was gathering a larger collection of specimens than it was designed for. Spirit tucked the freezing object safely against his chest and hurried back inside to be free of the snow falling into his face and the chill already seeming to seep into his bones.

He didn't hesitate but to close the door behind him, and then took the microscope the rest of the way down the hall and into the small kitchen.

Inside the narrow room he quickly opened the freezer and considered a moment before pulling out a few boxes of frozen meals left by other students to make space, and then he carefully placed the heavy instrument inside. He turned the freezer's temperature lower and then quickly closed it, blowing into his hands to warm them as he tried to remember his original purpose, his mind still awash with fear.

The microwave dinners on the counter was what returned his focus, and he quickly filled two mugs with water and set them to heat as he considered the beverage options. It took less than ten seconds to decide on tea, considering he didn't even know if there was hot cocoa mix around and he still really didn't want Stein out of his sight any longer than necessary.

Another thought occurred to him as he watched the microwave's timer tick down, and he turned and ran silently on his toes back to the bedroom. Once inside he didn't even look before diving for the box sticking out from beneath Stein's bed, and sure enough it was the box the microscope had been housed in. He carefully removed every delicate glass slide that remained tucked in the Styrofoam, and then cradling them gently, he ran back to the kitchen.

Once there he opened the freezer and carefully brushed a few snow clusters from the microscope onto each slide, including the one still beneath the lens which he removed. He brushed the remaining snow off the instrument into the freezer, and then carefully lifted the heavy device out.

He was methodically drying it with a dish towel as the microwave sounded completion, which he ignored in favor of caring for the delicate equipment. He didn't know for sure that moisture would damage it, but it seemed a fair guess, and he went at its crevices carefully with paper towels until the microwave beeped a second time.

He realized with a jolt that he had left Stein alone for well over five minutes now between all he'd been occupied with, and he hurriedly grabbed the mugs from the microwave and then pocketed a small handful of tea bags and sugar packets from the basket on the counter next to the stove.

He forced himself to keep his pace to a brisk walk this time, mindful of the steaming mugs in his hands. He was so lost in the anxiety of too many what-ifs and the need to hurry, hurry, hurry that he almost bumped into his meister as the younger boy was standing waiting outside their bedroom door, chin dipped low to his chest. Spirit gasped and startled back a step, then hissed as a splash of hot water hit his hand.

The meister had no reaction to Spirit's pain, looking downright sullen in the oversized bathrobe. But Spirit noticed his hands were tucked deeply into the pockets, and his hair was still wet although it showed signs of having been towel-dried.

"Stein..." Spirit breathed, continuing his visual assessment; was he imagining it, or was Stein's skin less blue?

The boy met his eyes through a curtain of damp hair, and Spirit sighed. As ever, his young meister was unreadable, except Spirit knew that somehow, in some measure...Stein was very displeased with him.

"Come on. You're getting into bed."

Spirit carefully gestured with one mug, and he expected to have to put forth an argument, but atypically Stein simply obeyed. Spirit watched for a moment, and then followed the boy a few steps inside the door and pulled it closed with his heel. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until his chest began to burn, and he let the air out slowly in hopes of not drawing Stein's attention.

The meister had paused in the center of the room, clearly making note of all the changes and liberties Spirit had taken before he seemed to resign himself to his fate and climb into his bed. But instead of lying down, Stein shifted his pillows up against the wall to sit and face Spirit's bed and the window on the wall between them. Once he was settled with too many blankets piled atop his lap and tucked up to his chest, hands buried deep inside the cocoon he'd made, he drew his knees up and shifted his eyes to settle on the window. Spirit didn't need to look to know it was still heavily snowing, and his breath hitched again when Stein slowly dragged his dull gaze back to him.

Spirit covered the gesture with a slight cough and then stepped forward to set the mugs on Stein's desk.

"Do you like sugar in your tea? And uh..." He pulled his small hoard from his pocket, some of the packets falling to the floor in the process. "I grabbed... Earl Grey, chamomile, mint, peach oolong... What's oolong..."

"Mint," Stein replied quietly, and Spirit realized it was the first word his partner had spoken since he'd deposited him unhappily in the dorm's bathroom.

"Sugar?" Spirit asked, after putting the tea bag into one mug.

"No, thank you."

The meister's voice was somehow more void of inflection than usual, and Spirit felt his stomach twist in unease as he ripped into one of the packets of sugar for his own mug and poured it in. He realized he'd forgotten to grab any stirring sticks and stepped back to his own desk to procure a pen to use as a substitute. He had decided on the peach oolong, the only other flavor appealing to him being the mint, but apparently he'd given the sole bag to Stein.

When he stepped nearer the meister's bed to hand him the tea, it was a moment before Stein moved to extricate his hands from the blanket-nest he seemed to be burrowing deeper within. His fingers brushed against Spirit's when he wrapped them around the mug's handle and the distinct chill the weapon felt at the contact set his heart racing in fear again. Stein had been under a hot stream of water for at least fifteen minutes if not longer, but he was still cold. Should Spirit have let him stay there longer? Was that even the right thing to do?

Spirit felt his head begin to ache and he rubbed his brow, feeling the pinch of his skin where it twisted in worry. He absently stirred the sugar into his mug with the back of the pen and tried to push his feet out of his boots. The laces were too tight however, and the result was him stumbling against his mostly-stripped bed and barely preventing the tea from spilling as he lost his balance entirely, his knees hitting the floor hard.

He cursed under his breath and then bit his lip in regret. His young meister had likely never heard such foul language, and he shouldn't be the one to introduce him to it.

He set his tea on the windowsill and then reached down to loosen his bootlaces just enough to tug them off, and then pushed himself back on his bed against the wall in a mirror of Stein's pose. The room was still chilled from the window having been open all night, and he shivered despite himself as he drew his knees up high to his chest, tucking his hands under his rear for warmth.

It was only after another shiver that he let his gaze travel across the room to meet his meister's eyes. The boy looked slightly more curious than he had before, but overall he still appeared more detached than the weapon was used to seeing. What Spirit didn't know and wished he did was whether it was just from the upset at his pulling him away from his fun, or if it meant the fun had already had a dire consequence.

"Uh..." Spirit said, feeling suddenly very awkward. Stein lifted his head slightly, sipped from the tea, but his expression didn't change. "Are you, uh... How are you feeling?"

Stein stared at him blankly, and while Spirit thought three months had gotten him used to how unfeeling the meister seemed from his countenance, he realized that it only counted in a predictable context. In class or on a mission, Spirit was learning what to expect. But Stein was about as antisocial as anyone he'd ever met, and it suddenly pressed against his mind just how little he really knew about the boy he lived and partnered with.

"Cold," Stein finally said, so quiet Spirit almost didn't hear.

He looked at just how very small Stein looked wearing the large bathrobe, bundled as deeply into the blankets as he could get while still upright. His hair was looking less wet but still a darker shade of gray than its usual mystifying silver. When he lifted the mug to take another sip of tea, Spirit noted how small the meister's hands were as they clutched tightly to the cup for the extra heat.

He tried not to think of Stein as a child. He hardly thought of himself as more than that, when he was honest with himself. But between the two he was the far elder and more experienced, and as the weapon it was his responsibility to protect his meister. Even from himself.

Spirit glanced away and out at the snow falling less in thick curtains now and more just in scattered flakes, still dense but allowing a view toward the other dormitory buildings before the scene faded into a white haze beyond which he knew the rest of Death City rose up above the sand. But for the moment it was as if the tiny bedroom existed separate from the rest of the world, and Spirit and Stein the only two people in it.

"Have you, ah...ever seen snow before?" Spirit continued, fishing for conversation.

Stein looked up past the rim of the mug again, seeming to analyze Spirit with every question, and then shook his head no.

Spirit swallowed under the scrutiny, and continued. "I've seen it a couple of other times, but...nothing like this."

The red-head shivered again and watched the way the flakes fell, most tiny and notably slower than rain, but others in large clumps that hurried past their smaller companions. It was captivating, and when he turned back to Stein the boy had resumed looking out the window.

"I had hoped we would see it on the assignment to Alaska, but...then that got canceled," Spirit said, dropping his gaze to the gray of his jeans.

There was still only silence in response, and this time Spirit let it linger, only briefly lifting his eyes a couple of times to find Stein still watching the display through the window. The curiosity in the boy's eyes had turned to something deeper; there was a longing now, and endless questions racing somewhere behind the brilliant, green eyes.

Spirit's gaze snapped up to focus as he realized with a flood of relief that the clarity was returning to Stein's vision. It had to be a sign, he hoped, that the surprise winter wasn't going to steal the life of his young meister after all.

The red-head looked at the window again and sniffed once, his nose starting to run due to the cold air in the room. The wonder and beauty of the snowfall began to fade as he considered again the terrifying possibilities of what could have happened. Suddenly the soft, white landscape seemed just as barren as the desert sands.

And yet...

"I'm sorry."

When he looked away from the window Stein was watching him, his brow risen in slight surprise. Spirit dropped his gaze as he shivered, moving his arms to wrap around himself and tuck his fingers under his armpits. He focused on the lines of denim across his knees as his eyes burned with the threat of tears, hoping that in saving his young meister he hadn't irreparably damaged their relationship when it had hardly started.

It was true they had been able to resonate practically immediately upon partnering, surprising everyone except Lord Death. But Spirit knew that the road ahead of them would require far more from them both than the superficial connection they had made so far. And in dealing so harshly with the boy, he could have undone their three months together and hurt the chances for their future.

"I'm not sorry for saving you, Stein. I was just so scared, and... Your face was all..." He gestured briefly to the still-unhealthy hue to the boy's skin. "But I... I probably could have...done that differently... And, you're not stupid. I shouldn't have said that. Sorry."

He didn't look up, only pressed further back against the wall and tucked one set of toes under the other in search for warmth as he became more aware of the chill to the room. He suddenly realized that since all of the students had been expected to go home, the heating had likely been shut off to the dormitory. That, in addition to his window having been open all night to the unexpected winter weather, explained the bitter chill he was feeling in the usually comfortable room. It wouldn't reach dangerous temperatures, but it was still a bit much for the simple jeans and t-shirt Spirit had hurried into after waking.

Stein didn't reply, and Spirit sniffled again, grateful the cold air at least gave him an excuse as he fought back tears. His mind began racing with a whole new set of horrible fears. What if Stein decided he didn't want to be his partner after this?

"You didn't need to give me your blankets and pillows."

Spirit sniffled again and looked up. Stein was watching him and the weapon studied his blue-gray pallor, the rising brightness in his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat as concerns of illness rose and shook his head.

"You need them more than me."

Spirit had no sooner rested his cheek—the uninjured one—on his knee, than he heard faint slurping across the room. He raised his head again to see Stein tilting the mug all the way back and finishing the tea, after which he settled his head back against the wall, continuing to clutch the now-empty mug. He shivered.

Spirit frowned and considered offering to microwave another mug, and then looked at his own forgotten tea on the windowsill. Steam was still rising from the liquid.

He slowly uncurled himself from against the wall, feeling the little warmth he had gathered seep away in seconds as he slid his feet back to the floor and picked up the mug.

"Here, I didn't drink any," he said when he offered it, Stein's brow rising, and then, "...Oh."

He pulled out the pen he'd used to stir the sugar in and frowned, making a mental note for the future that Stein preferred his tea without the sweetener. After a moment the boy reached out with a shaking hand and they exchanged mugs. Spirit set the used one on Stein's desk with the pen inside before turning back toward his bed.

"You can sit here."

Spirit stopped and looked at the meister, blinking in confusion as he failed to process the words.

"What?"

There was silence for a moment, the weapon watching the meister's small hands clutching tightly to the cup for the warmth it provided as he sipped the steaming liquid. Then the green-eyed gaze rose again.

"You can sit here, too."

Spirit's mind slowly pieced the meaning of the words together, his brow rising in surprise as he considered. It wasn't the sort of offer he would have expected from the meister in any typical situation, and especially not after he'd manhandled him indoors and ordered him around. But he was growing too cold too fast to find any reason to protest, and after a moment he climbed onto the bed and pulled the blankets back to tuck himself in next to Stein, his back against the wall and a few inches of space between them.

Stein tugged one of the pillows from behind him and pushed it toward the weapon, and Spirit gratefully shoved it behind his back, his spine instantly feeling the relief. He adjusted the blankets perhaps more than was necessary, making sure Stein still had enough to bury as deeply beneath them as he wanted, but grateful for the added warmth immediately.

The view out the window wasn't nearly as good as it was from his own bed, but at least Stein had the better position to continue watching the snowfall. He peripherally observed the meister take another tentative sip of the tea, purse his lips at the taste, and then balance the mug on his knees, both hands still wrapped tightly around it.

Spirit sighed lightly. If nothing else, at least it would help keep Stein's hands warm.

"Thanks," Spirit said quietly, suddenly finding he couldn't meet the meister's eyes. After the way he'd treated him, Stein's kindness was startling, and he wasn't sure how to respond other than accept the offered protection from the cold and continue to hope the younger boy would be all right.

"My microscope cost almost three hundred dollars."

Spirit was startled by the non sequitur and turned to look at the meister. The boy's eyes, definitely no longer glazed, were hardened in the way they looked when they were in class and he was frustrated by something their professor was saying. Spirit swallowed nervously just before words bubbled out of him faster than his brain could keep up.

"I was very careful, I promise! I didn't touch the lenses and I got every crevice. I even went over it twice to make sure it was dry!"

Stein had turned to look at him during the rush of words, and it took Spirit a moment to realize his expression had changed. The hardness had left his eyes, his usual aloofness now the dominant expression, but there was question and curiosity and surprise hidden beneath it. The boy's lips were parted, his jaw ever so slightly slack as he stared unblinking back at Spirit. The intensity of it startled Spirit so much that his words stopped for a moment before he licked his dry lips and fumbled for something else to say.

"And I...I put snow on each slide for you to look at later. They're in the freezer, I turned it down so they shouldn't melt. Sorry I... I should have asked before touching your things. I'm sorry."

Spirit licked his lips again and looked down. He should apologize for going through Stein's clothing too, he knew, but he was suddenly feeling very self-conscious and like he was the one under the lens of a microscope as Stein continued staring at him.

He thought the three months had gone well, all things considered. He wasn't used to being around someone as stoic as the partner he'd been assigned, but he had been trying very hard to learn what made the boy tick and how to be the best partner he could, responding to the meister's quirks and for the most part simply staying out of his way since privacy was what Stein seemed to value most. And Spirit had violated that repeatedly that morning.

He suddenly felt a yawn coming and restrained the action with effort. As his heart raced with the excess of nerves he glanced over to check the time on Stein's alarm clock on his small nightstand. It was just after eight o'clock. He chewed some of the dry skin from his lower lip and considered how to voice the question pressing against his mind after the embarrassing outburst of moments before.

It turned out he didn't have to, because when he turned back he found Stein had been following his gaze.

"I was outside before seven," Stein offered.

Something was different about his tone, and Spirit shifted his gaze to meet his partner's. Stein's expression had changed again to something the weapon had never seen and didn't know how to interpret. His eyes had lost the hardness almost entirely and seemed to be seeking something. Before Spirit could even try to figure it out, Stein surprised him again by handing him the mug of tea. He took a sip and then immediately a larger swallow as the liquid coated his throat, soothing some of the strain he hadn't realized was there as he continued worrying.

When he returned the cup to let Stein keep using it to warm his hands, his fingers brushed against the meister's cooler ones. He frowned at the contact and looked away, his gaze flitting between the window and the clock as he worried.

He wanted to believe that Stein would be fine. But he'd been out in the snow for over an hour and his hands were still cold, despite the heat of the shower, despite having been wrapped around the mugs of hot tea for several minutes.

Spirit felt the sting of coming tears again. He bit his cheeks in attempt to fight off the instinct, let his eyes dart over the room in search of some anchor that would help distract him from the fears and anxiety swirling through his soul. But just as he felt his emotions would collapse, Stein surprised him once more.

"I'm sorry I hit you."

Spirit's brow rose. He had nearly forgotten about the glancing punch and lifted his fingers to lightly press to his cheek. The flesh was tender, but it was nothing like the hits he'd taken in their combat classes or on missions. Of course those were different too, having been taken in weapon form.

"It's okay," he answered.

Stein was looking up at him almost like he'd never seen him before. The curiosity in his eyes was different somehow—not the clinical gaze he favored most things with, nor the apathy that came after the boy determined something held no value to him. There seemed to be almost more color to his eyes as they remained locked on the weapon's, and fascinated by the meister appearing so human, Spirit held his gaze.

The fear that had been consuming him changed somehow, under the inquisitive look that Stein had set upon him. The situation no longer felt hopeless or beyond control. In fact, the way his meister was looking at him now, his eyes held perhaps more life than Spirit had ever seen.

"Hey, ah..." he said, his voice quivering suddenly from an emotion he couldn't place. "When you're feeling better, maybe we could have a snowball fight."

Confusion joined the curiosity that Stein had fixed him with.

"...Snowball fight?"

Spirit smiled. "Yeah. You make balls out of the snow, and throw them at each other. For fun. Snowball fight."

Stein finally blinked, once, but didn't break eye contact. The intensity of his gaze was starting to feel unnerving, but Spirit found he couldn't look away. Not when he was so worried. And not after the long months of trying so hard to understand the enigmatic, private boy. Something had finally seemed to spur the beginnings of a mutual connection, and he wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

"Or...or maybe build a snowman?" he suggested, realizing suddenly that throwing hard-packed snow at his meister after nearly freezing was probably not a good idea, even if it would be several hours later. "I've always wanted to play in the snow..."

Stein continued to stare at him. He offered the tea to Spirit again, who took it and only sipped from the mug this time, not wanting to steal away the hot liquid that was helping Stein warm his hands. He held the eye contact, and Stein didn't so much as blink even after the mug was handed back.

Spirit began to feel self-conscious under the meister's gaze, though he couldn't determine why. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair and watched Stein's eyes follow the motion, linger on the spot where he'd briefly scratched his head, and then slowly return to his face again.

"O-Or...if you just want to play with your microscope, that's fine too. We don't have to play together, if you don't want to. I was just thinking—"

"Okay."

The train of Spirit's thoughts that had started running out of control was suddenly halted.

"Huh?"

"A snowball fight sounds interesting."

Stein abruptly handed the mug back to Spirit, who blinked and sipped from it obediently; the tea had begun to cool. Stein's eyes finally left Spirit's face, and he buried his hands under the blanket and tucked it up higher to his chin as he turned his gaze toward the window.

Spirit looked back to find that the snow was falling in thick curtains again. If Stein did feel up to going out later, at least there would be no lack of the stuff to play in.

He leaned his head back against the wall, sipped the sweet tea again, and sighed. He felt Stein look up at him, but he kept his gaze on the window. Part of him wanted to fill the space with talk about the few times he'd seen snow in the past, but a wave of tiredness was hitting him rapidly. For once the best choice seemed simply to remain silent. He was sure Stein would appreciate it.

His eyelids began to feel heavy as he stared at the continuous rain of white flakes that left the room feeling small and isolated, and he realized he was no longer focusing on holding the mug. He swallowed down the last of the cooling liquid and then reached to set the mug down on Stein's nightstand. He knew he shouldn't doze off sitting in the meister's bed, especially since he should still be watching him to make sure his health wasn't in jeopardy. But the snowfall was hypnotic, and coupled with the sugar and the rising warmth from the blankets, and probably an adrenaline crash, it was suddenly very hard to keep his eyes open.

"It's pretty."

Spirit blinked and glanced down, surprised to hear the quiet voice. Stein was watching the unusual weather, but then looked up to meet his eyes again. His expression was still curious and seemed more relaxed somehow. The usual, calculating tension was absent from his jaw and forehead, and his green-eyed gaze—brighter now—slowly slid back to the window when Spirit didn't say anything.

Spirit was the one to stare now, noticing that Stein looked less tense overall. Only his head and shoulders were visible above the blankets, but he wasn't holding himself coiled up anymore the way he so often did, like a snake ready to strike. An ease that Spirit wasn't sure he'd ever before seen in the boy had settled over him, and he looked far more his young age as he looked out the window, his thoughts apparently having drifted back to scientific interests rather than being upset with the weapon.

"Yeah," Spirit said.

Stein glanced up briefly, as if expecting more, then returned his gaze to the snowfall. And then, wide-eyed and curious as he appeared staring out at the world of white, he yawned.

Spirit slowly let his head rest against the wall again as he watched his meister, and he smiled.

[therysss]

Rhaenys Targaryen (Nymeros-Martell)

days before the Sack of King's Landing, where she was brutally murdered by ser Armory Lorch... At least that's what is known.

Swapped for another child, she grew up in the guise of Rhea Sand and under the tutelage of her uncle, Oberyn Martell, she became a Sand Snake. Marks on her body remind her daily of her goal of revenge, but not as a pawn of her kin, but as a player in Game of Thrones.

The Blood Snake AU

Stuff about it:

She's 18

She pulled some traits from Oberyn. She has a widow's beak and over time her eyes took on the shape of the other Snakes.

She doesn't have dragon dreams, or even a dragon. She is "much more Dornish/Rhoynar".

Her story revolves around many conflicts about the uncertainty of who she is, what she is for and if she is really making the right decisions. She was born with the possibility of holding great power (a possibility because she is a woman, despite being a firstborn), something that for her is not a birthright. It's more like a weight that only SHE has the strength to hold... But does she really have it? (She has some contrasts to Maegor in many ways)

Either way, she's very much a player. Not on the level of Tywin or Varys, but she certainly knows how to put the pieces together and move the game in her favor. Besides, she's a witch.

The correct nomenclature for the magic system I created for my ASOIAF AUs would be: Witchcrafter. I didn't develop that beyond the fact that it involves her falling into a river on a trip with Oberyn in the Free Cities. Anyway, this magical side helps her to be a dangerous player.

In terms of skills as a future queen (?) She was educated from a young age for this future position. Doran believes her to be as smart as Alysanne. And in battle/open conflicts? Well... Remember those contrasts with Maegor?

Love interests? I don't really like the stereotype of the sexy Dornish, and neither does she, but as a player, she uses all the cards. Her first major relationship is with Robb Stark, but unlike many fanfictions in which the character who stole the title of love interest from the original becomes enemies, Rhaenys seduces Jeyne as well and brings her to her side as a political ally. As you may have noticed, she doesn't really fall in love with Robb, but the only one who notices this is Catelyn, who thinks this girl is not who she says she is.

-

Anyway, these are just ideas from a fanfic that only has a prologue in Portuguese and that can be found in my Google Docs. It may never see the light of day, but if it does, I'll let you know.

[lotusflowerbreakingthesurface]

PingXie Fanfic Recs Masterlist Part 3

Art source:《雨村笔记》 by 刘巴布

☆— Canon Setting —☆

情深非不寿 by 小 粉 📝Deep Love Does Not Mean Longevity

不是小胖几 by 方策 📝It Is Not the Little Fat Guy

补充笔记 by xuanbao 📝Supplementary Notes

回家 by 东帝沧阳 📝Going Home

不寐 by guzhouxianxing 📝Insomnia

张起灵的私家笔记 by 孤舟闲行 📝Zhang Qiling’s Personal Notes

光暗为界 by 墨澜白锦 📝Light and Darkness Are the Boundaries

瓶中记事 by 沈判 📝Notes in a Bottle

万山雪沸 by HAGS 📝Ten Thousand Mountains Snow Boiling

宿醉 by 夜藤 📝The Hangover

泄火 by foxWFMdemon 📝Let Out the Fire

何处相思 by elmArmoon/島 📝Where Is Lovesickness

化雪 by 写意/未遮山 📝Melting Snow

☆— Semi Canon/Semi AU/AR Setting —☆

不言 by 东帝沧阳 📝No Words

不做就出不去的房间 by MOLISAO 📝A Room That You Can’t Get Out of Unless You Do Something

天婚 by 无明有焕 📝Heavenly Marriage

脱轨 by 宁家小花风 📝Derailment {Intersex Wu Xie}

偷香 by foxWFMdemon 📝Stealing Fragrance {Ten Years A/B/O}

光阴匆匆，爱我直说 by 青樺 📝Time Flies, I Love You Straight Away {Yucun A/B/O}

张先生 by 孤舟闲行 (guzhouxianxing) 📝Mr. Zhang {Sand Sea B*SM}

与君成说 by 夏子煦 📝Talking to Juncheng

雪域幻境 by 熙山居 📝Snowland Fantasy

☆— Alternate Universe (AU) Setting —☆

第六次 by 标点欸欸欸欸 📝The Sixth Time {High School AU}

You Are Everything I Care by 米耶艾绮雅 & Charry沫_谖/疏留 {Showbiz A/B/O}

诱仙 by vein 📝Lure the Immortal {Xianxia AU}

玉观音 by 无明有焕 📝Jade Guanyin {A/B/O}

授业以养狼 by 宁家小花风 📝Teaching to Raise Wolves {Werewolf AU}

最后一课 by 乌啼霜落 📝The Last Lesson {Secret Agent A/B/O}

吴小蛇的幸福生活 by 张景冉 📝Little Snake Wu's Happy Life {Fantasy AU}

我觉得，我室友，喜欢我 by DarcyK7 📝I Think My Roommate Likes Me {Forum AU}

和顶流谈恋爱好烦啊 by 西西cici 📝It’s So Annoying to Fall in Love With a Top Celebrity {Showbiz AU}

网恋到了游戏大佬 by 魏莞想睡觉 📝Online Dating Reaches the Gaming Boss {E-Sport AU}

麒麟劫 by 西湖水漫长白山 📝Qilin Tribulation {Fantasy AU}

林冬 by 槐安国师/槐安鸽师/HAGS 📝Winter Forest {Fantasy AU}

情钟 by T-theresa 📝Love Bell {Showbiz A/B/O}

Last updated: 23/01/2024 (PX Fic Rec 71-105)

[lampmanliveblogs]

So RayRay just learned that King’s a titan, but more importantly, confirmation that the heart in Belos’ throne room was the heart of the Titan.

And, like… I know that’s the obvious theory to make, and I’m sure that’s what everyone has been saying ever since we first saw it in Agony of a Witch. But for me, I was always hesitant to say that because, well… it’s so small! Yeah, it’s a big heart, but it’s not island sized! Take that heart and compare it to the Boiling Isles. It’s tiny! It’d be like King having a heart the size of a grain of sand!

For my sanity’s sake, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that the heart has shrunk down or shriveled up over time.

But this being me, I can take it a step further and make up some overly complicated theories. Maybe the heart is actually a vestigial organ for Titans. Or maybe the heart starts out with a function in young Titans, but once they reach a certain age and size, it stops growing as their body develops some other mechanism to transport blood around their body.

But yeah, the fact that the heart is still beating this many years after the Titan’s death is pretty metal. Call it The Tell-Tale Heart.

”You know, I just had an interesting idea…” -Me when inspiration for a new fanfic I’ll never finish hits me at 0:16

Ah… is this ”interesting idea” of yours the ”intriguing concept worthy of exploring further” kind of interesting or the ”wow, this grape and mustard ice cream sure is an interesting flavor combination” kind of interesting?

So RayRay’s advice is that instead of throwing his toys at the people he wants to make friend with, he should go talk to them instead and ask them to play. That’s nice. And I’m only a little sarcastic; while The Collector probably won’t listen immediately, all they need is for the Prince of Plastic to actually hear them out for a bit. If King can get it through to them that he actually wants to be their friend, they just gotta stop treating people like toys, then it’s pretty much over for RayRay/Belos/Philip.

The problem is that like I said, The Collector probably won’t listen right away, which gives RayRay here here the time to do… whatever it is he’s gonna do. Not sure what the plan is, but since it was brought up… it might include the Titan’s still beating heart in Belos’ castle.

”Oh, that’s a shorter story.”

Did. Did Eda just make a freaking pun about losing her arm?

Queen shit.

”Oh this? Well, Raine said they were gonna put a ring on my finger no matter what, and you know how competitive I get. Admittedly, I probably took this one a bit too far…”

”But hey, you gotta ’hand’ it to me, I took this loss like champ!”

”So Lili was cutting my hair, but she didn’t have her glasses on, and well…”

”You know the expression ’cost an arm and a leg’? Well, these shoes didn’t cost quite that much, buuuut…”

”New radical weight loss surgery.”

”Sorry about all these jokes, I was just trying to ’disarm’ the tension!”

Eda: ”Wow! Your new palisman is so cool and cute! But why is it a snake though?” Luz: ”I don’t know. If only some smart and preferably but not necessarily handsome liveblogger had made a post talking about the symbolism of snakes and how it applies to my character and palisman, I might’ve known.”

Speaking of palismen, I have another theory. You know Doctor Snuggle’s talking umbrella? That’s actually his palisman.

(and if you don’t know what Doctor Snuggles is… how does it feel having failed at having a childhood? Go look it up, all thirteen episodes are up on youtube and lemme tell you, it is WILD. The fact that the titular Doctor Snuggles has a talking umbrella which is also a pogo stick is the tamest thing in the series. My favorite episode is probably The Turn of Events With the Unwelcome Invaders, that one always freaked me out as a kid. The Fabulous Mathilda Junkbottom is also a good one.)

[westerosoliviapope]

The Fall of the Spice(r) Queen | Scandal Westeros

They step off the elevator into a white carpeted hallway. Nym bets a two-bedroom in Paramount Apartments goes for about $2,000 a month. Centrally located between Harrehal and all the fun to be had at the Trident. It's a cute little place. Definitely screams "Father pays my rent while I work my first big girl job."

Nym checks her watch. Seven fifty-eight. The door should open in 3…2…

"Good Morning, Jeyne!"

A slim but shapely dark-haired girl in a tan trench coat and black pumps blinks startled eyes. "Hi… Can I help you—"

"I'm Nymeria. This is Obara. You want to focus on me, though. If she has to start talking…" Nym winces. "Let's just say you'd prefer if she doesn't."

"I'm sorry. What's—"

"This is for you. Brown sugar oat milk latte, double shot. Just like you like it. My colleague and I are escorting you to your new job—"

"My new what? I have a—"

"No, Ms. Spice Queen. You had a job. Then you fucked—and published noncon kink about—Robb Stark, a very engaged councilman. Sooooo…that's done."

SCANDAL WESTEROS EPISODE SEVEN

[lost-technology]

The Ballad of Rem Saverem So, brainstorming a bit with @somereaderinblue I got a fanfic idea about Vash hanging out in a bar somewhere and learning that it is not just he and Nai who know something about Rem! The idea for this is that someone's ancestor was on Ship 5 and was one of the lucky few who was ushered into an evac-shuttle and was among the survivors who saw the ship's navigator yelling at them to go and holding her post, and it's a story kept by this one little town out in the middle of nowhere. People there think it's just a legend, after all, what could one person have even done in something as horrible as the Big Fall? But they do like the story. So, for if I do this fic eventually, I wrote out this song that Vash hears a balladeer singing in a saloon that absolutely leaves him a blubbering mess and bothering said balladeer to no end after his set. Since I am not a songwriter and cannot come with an original song to save my life, I ganked the tune / meter from The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird as preformed by Rachel Zeigler from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. (No knowledge of the movie necessary to appreciate the song, but if you're interested, it's a revenge-song a character sings for her ex-boyfriend to hear). So, the Rem-version, sung as only Noman's Landers can: Before we began we fell down on the planet Before we woke up we were spent to the sands Through rough times and roughshod we kept on, goddamit Stubborn and cussin' as we settled the lands We started with dreams in ancient space, lonely Exiled from Earth to explore what was new The Keeper kept watch, awake one and only Her life was given for me and for you Remember her name, the brave Rem Saverem She who went back, destined to die The Great Fleet's error would have left us all condemned If she hadn't run back to be scattered to sky She ran through the flames and let loose the cages She sent out the signal and held fast to her post She stayed behind hopeless through hellfire's rages And out in the long run is forgotten by most But we'll not forget you, brave Rem Saverem It was not for nothing you died It may be to the hard sands we've been condemned But we stand here still as you were scattered to sky.

[forerussake]

my dmbj fanfic writing problem is that i know genuinely fuck-all about canon. everything i think i know about dmbj is based on reboot and vibes and things ppl have told me, bc reboot is the only show i still remember anything of at all that isn’t ‘there are snakes’ and ‘that wasn’t his uncle?’ and ‘that’s a lot of sand.’

[thecrossoverwriter15]

Sacrifice (A Rise of the Guardians Fanfic) Features Major Character Death

Hello readers! Time for some late night angst.

The music I used while listening to this was The Stone Table from the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe Soundtrack. This Oneshot was also inspired by the scene as well. If you don’t like angst or MAJOR character deaths then don’t read this.

Without further ado, let’s take a look…

- Sacrifice (Rise of the Guardians) ——————

Jack awoke with a start. His head pounded with a headache, his cheek bruised with an ugly purple stain, his nose dripping with dried blood. He looked to his right with tired eyes. Tooth, North and Sandy were unconscious, their bodies bind to large wooden poles. Jack’s eyes widened as he realized that he had been bind to a pole as well, his hands tied behind his back. He tried to free himself from the shackles, but they were strapped on tight. In the dead of night, an army of nightmare soldiers stood, lighting candles on the stone columns. They seemed to be preparing for some form of a celebration, as some laughed in the crowd while others blankety guarded the entrance. Jack whispered to Tooth who had begun to wake,

“Tooth. Are you okay?”

The fairy stirred for a bit, before her eyes fixed on Jack’s, “Jack? What happened? Where are we?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Pitch came back, Jack.” A deep Russian voice interrupted, “He attacked the Pole and most likely took us to his fortress.”

Jack nodded and looked around, his eyebrows pulling together as he counted the three beside him. He then realized that one was missing, “Where’s Bunny?”

Just as Tooth’s mouth moved to speak, she heard a loud laugh from above. Sandy looked around as he woke from his slumber. A large stream of black sand rushed through the air like a river. The sand clumped together to create a resurrected Pitch Black. His new form was almost like a demon with human characteristics. His slimy voice boomed through the abandoned courtyard.

“I do hope that you are comfortable. My nightmares try to be gentle.”

“Pitch! You snake! Let us go or-” North shouted in rage.

“Ohh!” He chuckled, “I would truly like to, but you can’t miss this. Your little companion has made a deal with me to keep you all safe.”

Jack then turned towards the Guardians, who held face of worrisome and unsettling feelings.

“Pitch, what did you do?” Jack then asked, his eyes infuriated.

“Nothing. I can assure you, you companion will not be in any harm. In fact, I hope you will enjoy this.” The Booeyman told them, before floating towards Jack, his claw reaching out towards the boy’s face. North grunted, the wooden post removing any chance of freedom. The large sand claw grabbed Jack’s chin and titled it up so his eyes could meet the amber pools of sand.

“This will teach you, young Frost. If you try to kill me, you will watch as I plunge my knife into your friends, you will watch their faces twist in agony, their guts pouring out of their bodies. You will see that you are no more than an arrogant, selfish little human who only wants what makes the world weak. You foolish-“

“Get. Out. Of. My. Face.” Jack warned, his teeth clutched tightly. The demon pulled away, frustrated. He then saw a flash from the corner of his eye. Jack turned his head as did North, Sandy and Tooth, who gasped quietly.

(Okay, this is when you should play the music)

A blue paw stepped out from the mist, as did the owner. Pitch smiled, backing towards the other side so the Guardians could see. The guards shrieked in delight, filling the night in unsettling joy. The prisoner walked up the stone steps of the courtyard, his long ears raised. His eyes held no emotion as the orange lights of the fires grazed past them. Jack’s face was covered in shock and anxiety. The face turned towards the team, dwelling in sadness. Blue eyes meet green, as Jack tried to speak to him through emotion. The green eyes only looked away as he kept walking.

Then, North shouted, “Bunny!”

Bunnymund turned around, the orange lights outlining the fur on edge of his body.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve gone with Pitch!”

Bunny sighed, his eyes shutting, “No, mate. I’m not going to join him. I’m saving you all.”

“?” Sandy conjured with a golden question mark. Tooth then asked,

“Saving us?”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, his face twisted in the stare of worrisome.

Bunny walked towards Jack, placing a paw on the boy’s cheek, “Everything will be alright, Frostbite. I promise. Okay?”

“Okay..” Jack whispered, his eyes pooling with tears. Bunny smiled softly, before removing his paw from Jack’s cheek. He turned around and walked towards Pitch, who stood in front of his army.

“Are you ready?”

Bunny nodded, his ears dropping a bit. As he walked towards the crowd, the soldiers looked at him, laughing and smirking. The crowd created a pathway for the Easter spirit. Bunny looked up, a stone table stood in the distance, Pitch standing behind it while looking down at him. Just then, the crown surrounded him, holding their spikes and spears. One soldier hit the rabbit’s stomach with the butt of the spike, causing Bunny to collapse on his side, groaning and coughing as he curled up in pain. Tooth gasped, North grunted, Sandy was alarmed as Jack was shocked. The soldier smirked, his friends laughing beside him. As the soldier grabbed his knife, Pitch spoke again as if he was giving a speech,

“Shave him.”

“With pleasure..” The soldier’s greedy voice responded. Bunny’s eyes darted towards the sudden tug of his shoulder fur. The knife was scraped through the fur with a few slices, leaving a bald spot that looked out of place. The dirty hand held the blue fur up, creating a loud cheer from the rest of the men. Soon, the sounds of blades cutting was all the rabbit heard while laying on his side like a pig. As soon as a process was done, Bunny looked thin, his once great mane now replaced with thin hair strands and some bleeding cuts from the knives growing too close to his skin. He was then dragged by his arms up the steps towards the table. Pitch looked at him with delight as the two men pulled Bunny onto his back on the stone table. His arms dropped, one one the edge and the other one his side. Pitch then ordered, “Bind him.”

Jack and the rest could only watch in horror as their friend was mutilated right in front of their eyes. Meanwhile. the men tied the Pooka’s wrist on the table. One man strapped a leather muzzle on his muzzle, fastening the bonds. Pitch’s face grew close to Bunny’s ear as he whispered, “This is what I like to see. The last Pooka, finally in my grasp. Sleep well, Easter Bunny.”

Pitch pulled back, turning around. The men made sure he couldn’t move as they cowered away. The others stood in a crowd, cheering to themselves. Jack watched with wide eyes as Pitch picked up a thin sliver dagger, the end extremely sharp like a needle. He held the knife dangerously close to the rabbit’s chest, slightly dragging it. Once he picked a spot, he pulled the knife away. Bunny’s eyes were slightly red from the buildup of tears as he turned his head towards his family, looking at them one last time. Pitch raised the dagger, aiming it at the spot his picked. Jack looked at Bunny, his eyes nearly spilling tears, his head flying in a million directions. The crowd grew quiet as the knife reached higher into the sky. Bunny closed his eyes, ready for the intense burning sensation of pain.

Pitch then stopped.

He thought for a second.

Is this wrong?

Tooth, Sandy and North watched slightly, their chests heavily, theirs hearts rapidly beating. The crowd was silent, no one said a word. Pitch then decided. For Bunnymund, he opened his eyes at the wrong moment.

——————————————————————

Bunny’s eyes grew wide immediately as the knife was stabbed directly into his heart.

All movement ended as air swiftly left his lungs.

All noise ended as he heard ringing in his ears.

As he turned towards the night sky, he heard the sound of birds whistling in the distance. His eyes grew silent as his movements stilled. He lightly smiled under the muzzle, his eyes staring directly into the sky as the stars grew larger, like growing dots. Soon he felt his soul leave his body, his eyes shutting softly as he saw only the beautiful lights leading him home.

Bunnymund’s dead body laid their on the stone table, his skin turning cold with each passing moment. The paw that had been on the edge of the table stilled. Pitch smiled even while one tear escaped his eye. The soldiers cheered and laughed, holding their pikes and weapons up in the air.

The Guardians stood their, different emotions on their faces. Tooth cried out, screaming to herself. North shut his eyes tightly, tears falling. Sandy was in denial, his sand sculptures making a thousand different images in one. Jack’s eyes had shut tightly, his binds hardening as ice frosted over them. As the men of the army celebrated, a large explosion cut them off. An inraged Jack Frost charged the men, grabbing his staff and a sword from a guard. He used the sword to cut Tooth, North and Sandy’s binds. The 4 gathered together, fighting off as many creatures as they can…

About an hour passed, the Guardians huddled in the forest clearing, trying to comprehend what had happened. Tooth held her arms around North as she cried. North shushed her, patting her head. Sandy sat on a rock, creating sculptures of Bunny with his head. He sniffed, lowering his head. Jack couldn’t cry. He was numb from the shock and the feeling of loss hurt his heart. He finally mustered enough courage to speak,

“Guys? Can we go see him?”

North and Tooth looked up at Jack.

Tooth told her fellow friends, sniffling. “But, the army…”

“I don’t care. Just one last time, please.”

North let out a deep sigh, his eyes shutting closed. With his Russian accent, He answered,

“Da.”

No one was there. Pitch and his army had left the area after the murder. The wind blew throughout the cloudy morning. A bright yellow flower was decaying as a foot climbed up the quiet steps. With each step, Jack felt a deep dread as he saw his friend’s corpse laying directly how he had died, his eyes shut, his chest not moving. North gasped suddenly, his eyes filling with tears. As Jack approached the body, he held back a sob. He place his palm on Bunny’s arm, immediately feeling the coldness of his skin. He then begun to remove the leather straps, freeing the arms and legs. North, Sandy and Tooth helped by cutting off ropes and binds. Finally, Jack used a small knife from the ground and cut through the leather muzzle. When the strap was torn in two, he pulled it off. The Pooka’s face was pale, his mouth slightly agape. A small trail of red blood had fallen from his mouth, creating a tiny pool underneath. North carefully lifted Bunny’s body and set him on the floor. The corpse was limp like a doll as he was carefully set on the floor. Jack kneeled down, crying. He took this quiet moment to slide his hand under the neck of his companion, lifting it to look at him. The eyes stayed closed, his head only moving when Jack shook it, whispering wake up. When his mind accepted that his best friend has left him, he pulled the body against his chest. The arms of the Pooka were slight sprawled out on the floor, his knees slightly bent with his head in Jack’s lap. Tooth sniffled as she hugged Jack from the other side of the body. North came from behind, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Sandy hugged Jack’s side. Jack shivered from a chilling feeling of loss. His sadness turned to anger as his face contorted into a stare of despair, his eyes burning with emotion and the empty loss of hope.

———————————————————————

[redwolf17]

I posted 951 times in 2022

That's 839 more posts than 2021!

70 posts created (7%)

881 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dianaprinceownsmyass

@istumpysk

@ladyshinga

@esther-dot

@nonbinary-bosmer

I tagged 184 of my posts in 2022

#the weirwood queen - 58 posts

#asoiaf - 57 posts

#asoiaf fic - 36 posts

#sansa stark - 27 posts

#asoiaf meta - 11 posts

#asoiaf art - 9 posts

#jon snow - 7 posts

#arya stark - 7 posts

#olyvar sand - 7 posts

#dracula daily - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#war crimes! against children! so many slaughtered villages?! henry kissinger is only alive because he’s too evil for hell

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Now for the Lannisters.

Fuck “pale flecks of gold”, Tywin gets green with hints of yellow. It is the green of dying grass, of bile, of envy.

Cersei and Jaime get a richer green; their vaunted beauty gets nothing from Tywin, but comes from Joanna.

Tyrion’s green eye has the same base yellow-green as Tywin, reflecting his place as Tywin’s true heir. His black eye was tricky, as I didn’t want the pupil and iris to blend together.

This batch of eyes really needs a second attempt when I have time, but I do like the overall colors.

See the full post

51 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

#4

Next up, the Martells. I need to do Doran and Ellaria later, as well as the sand snakes.

Elia has no canon eye color. I chose a rich brown, as bright as honey for her sweet disposition and as hard as amber for the strength hidden underneath. Hers are my favorite of all the eyes I drew.

Oberyn’s eyes are described as black “viper” eyes. I made them a very deep rich brown; solid and striking.

See the full post

54 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

#3

“It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. "Aha!" he said; "still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; I am informed that your supper is ready." He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table.”

Hold up. I don’t remember if Dracula has any servants. Is he… cooking all Jonathan’s meals… himself?

I just. Dracula. In an apron? Spending an hour preparing an “excellent” supper?????

80 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

#2

My boyfriend and I are reading Dracula daily out loud to each other and discussing, and he has asked that I share these two theories because “tumblr loves that shit”

1) Theory the First

The three suitors, who are pals, deliberately agreed to all propose to Lucy on the same day, and whoever she accepted, wins

2) Theory the Second

Lucy’s three suitors track with the characters of Supernatural.

The neurotic mopey one who nearly sits on his hat, fiddles with a sharp object, and gets rejected: Sam

The cowboy gun nut whose response to rejection is to immediately try and get all of his buddies wasted: Dean

The one with no discernible personality (yet?) who apparently decided the best way to propose was to just fucking make out with a woman: Cas

104 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ASoiaF Fic Writing Tools

Writing fanfic for A Song of Ice and Fire? Have I got some useful tools for you!

Fanmade timeline of book events; also includes distances and travel times

ASearchOfIceandFire allows you to search the full text of the books, by book and/or POV

Race For The Iron Throne has useful chapter recaps with historical analysis for AGOT through most of ASOS

Atlas of Ice and Fire has wonderful fanmade maps and population estimates

Happy writing!!! 💕

213 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

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