#this story is on AO3 as well

[starredeclipse]

Moon baked pizza

(the last chapter is here )

By the time he got back to the pizzeria the phone was ringing again, Atom answered the phone only to find it wasn’t the cop calling him again this time like he thought it would be but instead it was a woman, letting out a sigh of relief he wrote down her order “You got more orders?” Josh asked as he came to the entrance and noticed the owner putting the phone down “Yeah, I guess” he shrugged not really expecting two people to call so close together from one another like that.

“Well Mr.I guess, I’m almost done with Bonnie. There’s just some things I need to fix here and there but I should have him up and running soon” the news came as a surprise to Atom “That fast?” The owner asked wondering if this guy was really doing a good job or not “When you’ve been doing this job for as long as I have, you can get certain things done pretty fast so long as no extra parts are really needed and even when they are I got a few spare parts I can use so there’s no real inconvenience here or extra time required to get the job done” Josh said casually resting his arm on the front desk, his eyes drifted down to look at the contents the desk had now.

He saw paper, a pen, a desk calendar and something curious “Hey what’s that?” His other hand lightly pointed to the page that caught his eye “Oh that?” Atom picked the page up tiredly and showed it to Josh “I just sketched it when I was bored, had this guy show up in my dreams from time to time but its not surprising given Fazbears was practically part of my childhood” not that his childhood was great…..being in the system meant he never had a stable home, the only thing that ever stayed consistent throughout his childhood was being dropped off at a Fazbear location with some pocket money to spend, its one of the reason the animatronics don’t really scare him….no he finds them more creepy but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been jump scared by one before.

Josh took a good look at the sketch “Huh, kind of looks like a Bonnie model yet….different.” The engineer found the details to be odd but dream stuff has a tendency to give inaccurate details so that was probably the reason “It’s not, well I mean….its a rabbit, a yellow one like Spring is but in my dream this guy was kind of….fleshy I guess is the best way to put it. It was a really weird dream, I was like this kid….I don’t remember the kids name but it had something to do with The Wizard of OZ.” Atom shrugged at that detail “Anyways, he was living with this yellow rabbit and each night he had to sneak out in order to save his dad” the man continued on, Josh surprisingly showed some interest in this, anything involving animatronics always peaked his interest “It had something to do with a ball pit and honestly I don’t remember the rest. I always wake up abruptly before I can finish the dream and then I can never fall back asleep but eh thats just my poor sleeping schedule for you” he put the sketch down before he grabbed the paper with the order on it “Anyways I need to go see if the rest of my dough has finally dethawed or not” Josh stopped resting his hand on the desk “You do that, I’m sure somebody wouldn’t want there pizza to arrive late just because the dough was still frozen” Mr.Atom just nodded since he was walking to the other room now before he stopped abruptly and looked at Josh who was walking behind him “Something the matter?” Josh asked the pizzeria owner, he raised a eyebrow when the man was just quiet “It’s….nothing just had a thought, anyways you want to suggest a pizza design?” The question wasn’t what the engineer was expecting “A pizza design?” the words came off as a question, like the other man wasn’t sure what he meant.

“Yeah, Foxy suggested a sun but I’m already getting tired of that design” Atom said briefly before a thought seemed to click within Josh’s head “A sun huh? Odd, well I guess if he said a sun then try doing a moon?” Josh wasn’t the most creative, that had always been obvious ever since he was a kid, no this guy liked tinkering with things, didn’t matter what it was just as long as it involved wires and needed to be working. “A moon huh? Sure, why not” the owner walked towards the kitchen after that and Josh returned to fixing Bonnie on. Of course the pizza got done before Josh did “heading out now?” The man spoke up as he attached two wires together “Yup” he gave a slight nod at that “well Bonnie should be walking around by the time you get back then” Atom just gave him a “alright” as a response before he rushed out the door to go deliver the pizza the woman had ordered.

The moon designs had bit a lot easier to make than the suns were given there was no need to make the suns rays when you were doing a moon shape, a normal circle seemed boring though so he added more details, he gave it a half split face that flashed a familiar smile that the man couldn’t place, the design still felt….incomplete but its not like the pizzeria owner was going off any real design or reference. The shape and face was familiar sure but it wasn’t like it stirred up any memory's within the man.

When he arrived at the address he found himself at a Old Mill, it had a lot of what looked like trash sitting at the side of it but besides that it didn’t seem like such a bad place……he got out of the car and casually entered through the Mills open door, he’s not sure what’s being made here but by the look of its very old appearance it has been running either for a long time or it just got reopened after being dormant. He walked until he found a worker, surprisingly there wasn’t very many workers here “Hi, did you order a pizza?” The woman just nodded “Sure did, come on over sugar, cash is in the office” being suddenly called sugar takes Atom off guard, he’s not used to someone being so openly…affectionate? No, that wasn’t the right word. It was a feeling you get when you visit your favorite grandmother, when she calls you sugar or pumpkin and it just warms your heart in a way that other members of a family can’t.

He followed the woman who did seem like the warm sunshiny type yet at the same time she had signs of being a hard worker, they reached the office and the woman messed with a drawer, rummaging through it until she found her wallet, she pulled out the cash and handed it to him taking the pizza box in a cheerful exchange that Atoms not used to before she uttered out a “Thanks a bunch sweetheart” it didn’t sound like she was flirting despite the word sweetheart being used, no with her it just feels sweet and natural, he really does hope the pizza he made is any good “Y-yeah…” he doesn’t necessarily know how to exit out of this conversation and it seems rather obvious when the woman takes notice but plays it off as her being forgetful “Oh right, you don’t know your way around here. Come on, I’ll show you out, its easy to get lost in this place” the woman kindly led him out to where his car was “Thanks” Atom said as he got out his keys “No problem pumpkin, have a nice day” the man paused as the woman walked off, he just stood there for a moment before he felt himself just being awkward now so he walked to his car and left, he decided not to linger at the Old Mill.

He drove back to the pizzeria and went inside where he was greeted by the sound of music, it was light…..like someone was playing a lullaby with a metal twang to it, the man followed the sound and saw Bonnie sitting down strumming on the guitar that came with him, the guitar didn’t sound like it was meant to play such a song. The moment the rabbit noticed him though the song stopped abruptly, he looked at him before getting up, the animatronic put his guitar down before the man saw his eyes go weird and glitchy “Uhhhhh hi?” Atom said as the robot got up and walked away “Uh excuse me? Hello? Bonnie?” The pizzeria owner followed the robot until it stopped next to the employees only door and proceeded to stare at him. “You going to say something or what?” The man gave the rabbit robot a bit of a attitude of annoyance even though it was only slightly, they stood there until Josh came out of the employee only door “Sup” the man said as he blinked, his gaze shifted between the both of them before Bonnie’s eyes stopped glitching out and the bot actually said something “Not much” his voice was casual and he stopped giving Atom that weird look.

“Is there a reason Bonnie is ignoring me?” Mr.Atom asked the engineer “ignoring you?” Josh turned his gaze back to the bot “Why you ignoring him?” The man had no clue why the bot would ignore the actual owner of this place “I’m not” Bonnie said tilting his head like he had no idea on what either man was talking about “…..I’m going to go back to guitar practice” Bonnie left the two men to stand there while he went back to his guitar as the bot didn’t like whatever confrontation was going on here.

“Uhhhhhhh” the man was left speechless “That Bonnie’s kind of…..not great at confrontation or adults chasing him around, try not to do either of those until he warms up to you. He’s only outgoing around kids, with adults he’s not really, he’s probably more closed off into himself right now because I told him you couldn’t get a Freddy” Maybe Josh should have told the bot that later actually……Oh well. “Seriously? There bots, why would they be sad I couldn’t get a Freddy?” Mr.Atom couldn’t wrap his mind around it, Josh looked at him almost confused “You do know that ALL of Fazbears bots developed sentience right?” The engineer realized that years ago and has fully accept all of it even if logically it made no real sense “What do you mean all of them?! Arn’t these guys just wires and code?!” Josh laughed a little bit at that “Your asking like your not the guy who’s currently paying a animatronic real money to do whatever” Mr.Atom gave him a look “Those are special circumstances” the men almost had a bit of a stare down before Josh looked away “Yeah right, you know there more than just wires and code…..” the engineer sighed “Look I’ve been working with these guys for a while, they all gained sentience eventually for unknown reasons, sure they are made up of code but there has always been something more to them” Josh wasn’t going to try to convince this man that the animatronics he bought had feelings, thoughts, relationships, and there own opinions. “The sooner you accept that the sooner this place will run smoothly” he tossed that comment out like it was supposed to mean something “Yeah whatever, I’m going to go to my office” and by office Mr.Atom meant a part of the employees only room that just so happened to have a desk in the corner of it, the room mostly just had boxes of paperwork that apparently Spring had gone through along with other things that the Owner couldn’t bother to deal with right now.

Josh didn’t say anything, he just watched him leave before he himself went to ask Bonnie if he could help move Chica over to the chair for him.

Mr.Atom went and sat at his desk, he looked at the papers scattered about it but he didn’t actually pay much mind to what they actually said, actually the contents of the page itself suddenly got blurry and the man felt his eyes grow heavy. He crossed his arms on the desk and just sat his head down for a minute before he effectively passed out, it wouldn’t be the first time thats happened and it won’t be the last. The man opened his eyes and looked up towards a sky of purples and blues “Oh great” he got up “I passed out again” he let out a long drawn out sigh, he was dreaming, the purple and blue sky of night always greeted him whenever he dreamed “alright, what’s it going to be this time?” He called out but he received no reply, all he heard was the echo of his own voice and the occasional lamp post flickered on but it barely lit any path before it turned off again “alright, I guess I have to go find it again” his dreams were always odd, though he’s never really talked about them he has gotten the hint that people didn’t quite dream like this. Atom started walking, the sound of a side walk under foot became more clear the more he walked upon it, a road started to twist into a certain direction, he looked at the road before he started walking down that path instead. He didn’t have to worry about cars in his dream really so he just started walking on the road until he came to a single house that was lit up….the air felt cold….was it winter? He saw other houses appear on that same street with Christmas lights shining but they weren’t as bright, he decided to investigate this one house, it seemed to be calling to him in a way. As he walked he peaked into the windows of the house and saw many people talking “they must be having a Christmas party” he mumbled to himself when the sound of talking elsewhere caught his attention, he turned and saw what looked like a shed, it wasn’t lit up or anything but he got the feeling he should go in there.

He’s never exactly been a brave one, he’s never one to butt into others business or really be around other people but in his dreams he would probably be viewed as some kind of hero or maybe even as just a watcher, sometimes the line blurred between the two. Atom went into the shed, there wasn’t really anything spectacular about the shed…..not even anything note worthy that would say something was up but the talking….that is what lured him in further and its what he followed until he came across a animatronic, one he remembered hearing someone bought not that long ago. It had a very girly color pallet in the mans opinion which made the bots male voice seem pretty out of place if you asked him, the bot went quiet the moment he saw the man which was the only time he heard the voice of a girl that was trapped inside “Oh look someone else has come to the party” the bear said more with amusement than anything else “What are you doing?” Atom asked tiredly, he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with a bot that was being cocky. “Nothing, just talking about all the kind of wonderful ways there is to die” that was certainly a unsettling sentence but the man didn’t even bat a eye at it “Seriously?” He heard the girl object and even heard her say “let me out!” Which the bear seemed to ignore rather easily “Well yeah what else would I be talking about?” The bear didn’t really move much….either it didn’t want to or it couldn’t….either way the man wasn’t afraid to approach “I don’t know, you bots are all weird to me” the bear seemed to hum a bit at that but he didn’t really have anything to say besides “well this was fun but you should really hurry on back to that party now” the man raised a eyebrow “Oh I’m not part of the family, I don’t even live nearby here” That seemed to get the bots attention, interest peaked “Well thats a surprise, what are you doing here then Oh stranger?” Atom shrugged “I assume I’m here to help the girl in your stomach out” the bear didn’t seem to like that answer “help her? Why? She’s the one that climbed in here, not my fault that she’s weird and wants to date death so much” the bear let out a bit of a laugh at that and honestly this animatronics voice was starting to get on the mans nerves, how could anybody bother listening to him all day? “Weird or not she’s not yours for the killing, so let her out” Atom said a little more demanding, the plot of his dreams almost always involved some kid getting themselves nearly killed. There almost always seemed to be a animatronic involved too and to be honest that was the annoying part about all of his dreams but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to dealing with “What! No! She’s mine! You can’t make me release her” the bear said its eyes changing to red as it got more mad, Atom sighed “well I tried giving you the easy way out” the man had grabbed something that was behind his back, it felt like one of the metal rods you put into foundation. It wasn’t very long but it would due, before the bear could say much more the man ran up and shoved the rod right though one of the animatronics eyes making it spark and go on the fritz for just a moment before it turned off, Atom could steal hear the kid inside so he went and found a crowbar in this old shed to prey the bears stomach hatch open. The moment he got the hatch open the girl practically scrambled out of it, she was shaking and out of breath like she just ran a marathon, she looked up at Atom but she couldn’t find the words to express how grateful she was to be out of that thing, her emotions which she wasn’t very familiar with turned her fear into tears and once those started she couldn’t get them to stop.

Atom sighed but the man kneeled down and brought the girl into a hug “hey, hey now, it’s okay….its over now” these dreams always felt so real in a way but in other ways they didn’t, he realized the girl felt cold….she must be freezing “Lets get you inside” he let go of her only so he could help her to her feet, her hands were still shaking and while she didn’t know this man she let him pull her out of the shed by her hand, he guided her away from that monstrous thing and she couldn’t be happier about that “Hey kid” Atom spoke up as they started walking back to the house, she looked up at him “Animatronics are dangerous, if you see one just don’t go near it, don’t go doing what you just did. That was reckless” in the waking world he would never really say these things but for some reason in his dreams he always felt the need to warn, to tell the kid in that dream that getting into this situation was stupid and reckless when he himself has done plenty of stupid things as a child “Sometimes you need to think before you do things or else bad things can happen” the girl paused…. she just nodded wiping the tears from her eyes before they finally reached the door “Head on in there now, I’m sure everyone is wondering where you went” the girl didn’t say anything but the moment he let go of her hand she was on her own, she looked at him only to say “Thank you” before she went inside the house and he walked back to the street “Well that wasn’t so hard” actually maybe he shouldn’t say that…..half the time these dream bots come chasing after him until he wakes up, this time though….he just walked away….going down the street where he came from until he started hearing something…..the colors and buildings of the world disappeared until Atom woke up to Josh shaking his shoulder lightly “Hey, you good man? You’ve slept for most of the day” the Owner gave the Engineer a ‘Pardon?” Sort of look before he sat up “What do you mean I’ve slept most of the day?” He seemed confused, he only slept for a few minutes but a quick look at his phone said otherwise “I don’t know, you just came back here and never came back out, you’ve had quite a few calls….you don’t have to worry about that, I took care of the orders and delivery’s, also Chica’s up and running so you don’t have to worry about that either” all of what Josh just said didn’t really process for a solid few minutes “You made pizza’s and delivered them?” He wasn’t sure if he should be worried about that or happy he didn’t have to do it “Yup, I even left the cash earned today in a jar in the kitchen for you, don’t worry I didn’t pocket any of it. You need it more than I do anyways” that comment right there seemed almost like a insult even though the engineer didn’t mean it to come out that way “Are you calling me poor?” Atom blurted out blinking as he looked at Josh’s smirking face “In about every language, yes, yes I did. Mr.Ant your kind of broke” the owner pointed at him “Your never going to call me by the right name are you?” The engineer laughed a little bit “Nope, not if I can help it” before he proceeded to walk off saying “Anyways I’m done for the day, I’ll see you later” and leaving Atom to just sit there processing everything.

It was several minutes before Atom even considered getting up and even several more minutes before he did actually do such a thing, he decided he was going to check on Chica before he left for the day….well technically he had to wait for his ‘Nightguard’ to show up now but that was besides the fact. The owner went and found Chica holding a piece of garbage in her hand “Chica” she slowly turned towards him like she was a child who just got caught red handed “Don’t tell me you were going to eat that, Chica…..if you eat that I will flip you understand that? I’ll flip at you and there will be swears, so you better cut that out before I lost it” Mr.Atom was being dead serious right now and apparently the way he was looking at her was enough to scare the bot into dropping it…..and then she opened her mouth and trash fell out “CHICA!” His voice echoed in this place and the chicken went running “SOME OF A! SPIT THAT OUT! SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW!” Bonnie watched as the man chased after Chica, trash kept falling out of her mouth as she ran away from the angry man, the rabbit just blinked before his gaze shifted to the yellow rabbit that just entered the room, at first Bonnie froze before he realized this rabbit had brown markings on him and that he was indeed a different yellow rabbit “Hey Bonnie” Spring greeted just giving him a wave before he saw Atom running around the room with Chica “What’s his problem” Spring asked the other bot “He caught Chica eating trash” Bonnie replied easily “Seriously? I thought she was done with that habit?” Spring replied with what sounded like a sigh “She is but she does it whenever something is new and it stresses her out, at least the trash she’s eating is just different types of packing and newspaper.” Bonnie told him before he went back to polishing his guitar “Ah, stress eating, guess that checks out then” Spring turned when he saw something approach from the corner of his eye, when he turned he saw Foxy “Yeah we usually leave her be if its nothing harmful that she’s eating until she gets settled, anyways what are you doing back her? Didn’t you leave or something?” Foxy asked since he remembered this yellow rabbit leaving “Yeah but I came back” Spring Cookie told the fox “Why?” Was the only question foxy had to ask “Oh because he hired me to be the new night guard so that I could take care of the kid during the day” the mention of the child made the fox hesitant to ask “How is….she doing?” It was his fault that kid got hurt, he felt so guilty about it but there wasn’t anything he could have done to prevent that from happening “She’s hurting but she’s on medication, her wound will leave a scar but she’s got the support of her friends and me so she’ll be okay…..with time she’ll be fine” the bot reassured the fox and while Foxy was relieved she was going to be okay he was still beating himself up for it, that never should have happened….he wished it hadn’t.

[trensu]

Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 

The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.

“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.

“Uh…a good one?”

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.

They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.

Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.

"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 

Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.

"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"

"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."

Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.

"That's weird," Dustin said.

"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.

"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.

"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."

"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."

"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.

"Guys! Guys, what about my..."

The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.

"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."

Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.

"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.

Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."

"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."

--

It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.

The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.

It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.

By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.

--

He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.

His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.

"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.

"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."

Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.

"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."

Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.

--

Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.

When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.

“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.

“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 

“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 

“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”

There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.

–

Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.

Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.

A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 

Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.

“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second!”

“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.

“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.

“I’m not a lord.”

“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”

“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”

The man laughed at him outright.

“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”

Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.

“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”

“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”

“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”

“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 

“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.

“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”

“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”

“Kind of.”

“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”

“Your god is the King of Dark–”

“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”

The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.

“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.

“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”

The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

–

It happened again.

now with an additional snippet here and here

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[very-uncorrect]

Everyone talking about needing their bedtime stories because it's 11pm for them I didn't realise so many British people used AO3

[benevolenterrancy]

Hi I have caught up to you on having feelings about Zhuzhi-Lang. He's a good boy! 🥺 Good snake boy! 🥺 I had the thought, after Zhuzhi let SQQ leave after SQQ yelled at him... what if they Stole Him. What if.

(Also have you read/been recommended anything by corduroyserpent yet? Big writer of Zhuzhi-Lang fics, including a very cute de-aged Zhuzhi-Lang and some zhushen)

Justifications of bride-stealing!

(AND HE'S THE BEST BOY 😭 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, SO MUCH!! have some further au thoughts because this has contaminated my brain...)

What I think would actually happen if they stole SQQ? Absolutely nothing good for anyone, LBH would Lose His Fucking Mind xD as a more interesting answer though, I like the idea that Shen "Pedantic Nitpicky Asshole" Qingqiu's primary point of argument is that he is not a bride so he cannot be "bridenapped" regardless of demonic tradition or intention!

This eventually leads to them all completely avoiding the Maigu Ridge incident because TLJ realizes that, somehow, SQQ doesn't realize the depths of his son's feelings for him and decides to put all his efforts into being a wingman for his nephew instead because he finds the entire thing absolutely hilarious and rather satisfying after his own sad romance. Obviously someone like SQQ would do much better with his good, loyal nephew than the disappointing offspring of that disastrous relationship!

As for ZZL he just has to assume that LBH must not be treating SQQ anywhere near the way he should be (and like... he isn't wrong at this point, there is a non-zero amount of torture and terror going on here) if SQQ doesn't see himself as being tied to LBH in any way. And if he's not attached to LBH then there's absolutely no reason he shouldn't make his own efforts to seduce SQQ! After all, if LBH isn't valuing SQQ properly then obviously ZZL has to step up because someone as kind as SQQ deserves the best!!!

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 7

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, CMNF (clothed male naked female), continued hamstring stretches (advised by the appropriate medical professional), praise, kissing, manual stimulation/fingering, touching under clothes, explicit consent, dirty talk

The noise you make would be embarrassing if you couldn’t feel the effect it has on him, see the way his pupils almost swallow his irises. With your calves over one shoulder, he pulls your underwear clear. You expect him to toss them aside, but instead, he places them down gently next to your hip.

Then, he parts your legs to let the left one fall back to drape over his leg. Your your face gets hot when you hear how wet you are. Simon makes an interested noise, getting your left leg back into position as he pets lightly over the hair you’d thankfully groomed before your trip. His thumb dips down to just barely brush over the hood of your clit.

“Already so wet f’ me,” he rumbles. “Set your hips. Good girl.” As he straightens your leg, he shifts his own hips and makes room for his hand between you. The breath hisses out of him when his fingers slide across where you’re wet and wanting. “Fuck. Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you whimper, resisting the urge to roll your hips into the barely there touch. “Green. Green, Simon, please, I want it.”

He doesn’t make you ask again, just lets a thick finger sink in ever so slowly. His thumb rubs soft and slow, using your wetness to glide gently over your clit. You try not to moan too loudly, to hear the way he huffs into the side of your calf. For once, he’s not staring at you. Instead, his eyes are closed, breaths shallow as his finger pulses inside of you, almost metronome steady.

The heat that’s been pooling in your belly spills into the rest of your body. You can’t help but squeeze around him, once. He’s so gentle that you can feel yourself soften and open for him, until the friction is nothing but the shivery, slow ascent toward your peak. You don’t resist the urge to tip your head back with a soft sound.

After a few long moments, you flutter your eyes open. When you look at Simon, you notice the slightest tremble in his shoulders. His head is tipped down, but you can see tension in his neck, though there’s only the lightest pressure where his temple meets the leg that is still over his shoulder.

You touch the top of his thigh, surprised by how rigid he’s holding himself. “Simon?”

“Mm?” His voice is just as soft as his muscles aren’t.

Your voice comes out just as quiet. “You okay?”

The hum he gives you is noncommittal. But he keeps petting you inside and out, steady and distracting. Three fingers on his other hand tap two times. He needs some time to think, to center himself.

Did you do something to upset him? You try to sit up to speak to him. Before you can get an elbow under yourself, he squeezes his fingers toward each other, a sudden, staggering pressure that makes you fall back with a yelp. You try to twist away, but as gentle as he is, you can’t break his hold on your leg - or between your legs.

“Settle,” he rumbles, pinning you with a heated look from beneath his lashes. He starts petting over your raised thigh. “’M okay, Bambi. Ready?”

You almost say yes. Your whole body wants nothing more but to melt into him. But… “A-are you sure?”

“’F course,” His whole face softens when he smiles. “Mos’ beautiful woman in the world ‘s in bed wi’ me. Tryin’ no’ to mess my pants like a green boy.”

You end up swallowing whatever you might say to that when he curls his thick finger back up to make quick, hard strokes against your g-spot. Even as a part of you starts purring with the knowledge that he’s so undone for you, you feel yourself start to come apart at the seams.

Simon straightens your leg, asking, “Number?” Which isn’t fair of him. You have to consciously resist the building tension in your body, resist chasing the orgasm that is building ever so slowly.

“Number, Bambi,” he prompts you again, with mean pressure over your clit.

He’s barely putting any strain on your leg, just holding your it up. “Two,” you gasp. “One and a half.”

He leans forward, just a fraction, with a grin. “Now?”

“Three-ee!” you yelp as his fingers speed up.

He holds you there, watching as you struggle to relax into the stretch. Each time you start to tense into the pleasure, he slows his ministrations, just a little. Just enough to pull you back from the edge. You want to curse him out, you want to cry. It’s agony just as much as a reward, a slow syrupy pleasure that makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges.

“Doin’ so good, Bambi,” he rumbles, what you suspect is much longer than 30 seconds later. “Ready for the other one?”

You give into the urge to arch your back as he adjusts you. Your voice is so soft you’re not sure he’ll hear you when you ask, “C’n I have more?”

Simon hums as he adjusts you to drape your other calf over his shoulder. “Ask me nice.”

Your whole body feels warm and soft and pliant. “Please, Simon, can I have another finger?”

“’F course,” he coos. He straightens your leg. It’s the barest hint of pressure. You whine as his finger withdraws, then settle when he pets at you with two. “Askin’ so nice. C’n ‘ave whatever you want.”

He pushes in, slowly, before he adjusts your leg, and you’re grateful. His hands are so large, and you appreciate them in a new way, now. His fingers are so thick you have to take a few deep breaths to let him in fully. You can feel the groan that scrapes its way out of his chest. Your own hands seek his thighs, clenching the cloth of his sweatpants in a shaky fist as he pushes your leg where it needs to go.

He doesn’t seem to need your input this time, pushing your leg just to where you need it. Or maybe he did ask, but you’re too focused on the gentle and implacable way he caresses you inside to hear him. He barely has to move to devastate you. Before, you had to try not to tense around him. Now? You’re not sure you have any command over your body. You’re at his mercy, the most serene you’ve ever been.

You can’t stop the noises you make when he starts moving again, little whines and moans that he echoes. The climax that has been building inches closer with every beat of his fingers. When he sets your leg back down, you only notice because he leans forward to brace his hand next to your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, and the hand between your legs gets so insistent that you have to gasp for breath. “Good girl, Bambi. Tha’s it. You wan’ to come, pretty girl?”

“Si-mon,” you hiccup, turning your head to mouth at his wrist.

“Yeah, you wan’ it,” he rumbles, ducking down to pant against your cheekbone as he works his hand. “You c’n ‘ave it, beautiful, take your reward. Come f’ me, now. C’mon.”

Before Simon, you’d never been able to come on command. After a few months, his voice could coax you to you peak with a little preparation. Now, with his lips brushing your skin and his presence filling your senses?

You couldn’t resist him if you wanted to.

The orgasm feels like it’s torn from behind your belly button. You can barely breathe for how it rolls through you. If Simon wasn’t caging you in, you might shake apart. As it is, you grasp at him however you can, trembling and crying out in ways you’re barely aware of. His voice anchors you through it, rasped encouragement and snarled affection that you can’t understand.

It takes all of your strength to turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Simon takes over, immediately, perfectly, and you give in to him with a panting moan. He steals your remaining breath, but also starts to gentle you down, hand and fingers gentling from earth-shattering movement to something so slow and gentle that your hips chase the echoes of sensation. He lets you. The way he kisses you, you think he really would give you anything you want.

[metamatronic]

Champions Resurrected AU / Prelude 1: Mipha

i was gonna post this on AO3 and I still might if I write more, but here’s a brief written retelling/continuation of the Mipha & Sidon reunion comic (warnings: canon typical violence? just in case)

The crackling noise that shook through Zora’s Domain that morning was mistaken for thunder at first. Zoras chatted amongst themselves, puzzled over lightning in a cloudless sky. Even King Dorephan, who had lived long enough to experience nearly every natural oddity that occurred near the Domain, leaned forward on his throne to peer into the vast blue.

“There, Father! Do you see it?” Sidon, always eager to abandon their discussions on politics, pointed toward the falling beam as it cut through the sky. “A falling star during the day. How rare!”

“I doubt it,” Dorephan rumbled. “I’ve seen many falling stars. I’ve never seen one like that. Something is strange about it.”

“Your Majesty, we are under attack!”

Sidon only winced a little at the sharp voice, before straightening up on instinct. He watched his father shoot his advisor an amused look as he rushed in.

“I doubt that as well, Muzu,” Dorephan chuckled. “If so, our enemy’s aim could certainly use some work!”

“Your Majesty!” Muzu cried, wringing his hands. “Please, consider the possibility at least!”

Sidon tuned out the conversation, walking out to the balcony and watching the dazzling light as it descended. Now that he was really looking, it had a faint blue glow to it that seemed to be dimming as it approached the ground. Its movement was strange, bobbing through the air like it was adjusting its course. A Rito, perhaps?

Sidon certainly hoped not as he watched the light plummet behind the rocks and into the Bank of Wishes. He hadn’t met many, but from what he’d heard, the Rito weren’t particularly keen swimmers. His fins itched as thoughts of warbled squawking and the charging of Lizalfo shock arrows plagued his mind.

“I will go investigate,” Sidon said, loudly enough to cut off whatever tirade Muzu had been in the middle of.

“Sire! Surely you’re joking!” Muzu said. “You cannot be so reckless! Ever since you took on Vah Ruta, you’ve been acting as though you are invincible, insisting you handle things yourself. If you keep acting as such—”

“I am very fast and very capable. I will be back if it is anything too dangerous, I assure you!” Sidon said with a grin. He was already stepping backward towards the edge of the balcony. “You have my word.”

“My Lord!” Muzu cried as Sidon winked, before leaping gracefully off the ledge and into the waters below.

By the time Muzu had made his way to the balcony, the only trace of the prince was a slice of red cutting effortlessly through Ruto Lake.

‌▲ ▲‌ ▲

Mipha groaned, opening her eyes and immediately regretting it as she was buffeted by the fierce wind. As she grasped uselessly at her surroundings, every nerve suddenly sparked to life as she realized she was falling. Fast.

Her right fin was pulled open by a gust and she spun with a yelp, being tossed violently through the air. It reminded her of swimming down a waterfall, the dizzying feeling of the current and gravity pulling you relentlessly toward the sharp rocks below.

“Always keep your eyes forward, my dear Mipha,” her father’s voice echoed, pulling her back to her youth when she’d foolishly closed her eyes and nearly missed the lake below. “The most dangerous thing you can do is let your fear steer you.”

Prying her eyes open, she extended her fins and clumsily straightened herself. She felt a wave of nausea hit as the faded blues of distance gave way to the vibrant greens and purples of the earth below. A long leap off a waterfall, she told herself, that’s all this was.

Mipha bit her lip as she took in the surroundings. Even from this height, she could recognize her home, even if the sight brought her little comfort in her current situation. She was positioned over the Zora River now but could feel the wind knocking her around. Even a few feet off target could spell the end, and Mipha was already more acquainted with death than she ever wished to be.

With a shaky breath, she pulled her arms to her sides and flattened her fins, picking up speed until the world blurred. The wind whistling past her was nearly loud enough to hurt but was soon muddled by the familiar sound of rushing water and bubbling air pockets. She opened her fins quickly to slow the pull downward, relenting only when the pull of gravity faded to the gentle current of the river.

When the bubbles finally cleared, Mipha found herself upsetting close to the rocky bottom of Zora River.

She could still feel her heartbeat everywhere, behind her eyes and at the ends of her fins. She fought the tears pricking her eyes, shaking as the adrenaline slowly filtered from her system.

It was only after she’d allowed herself a moment of reprieve that it clicked.

She had a heartbeat. She could see the small bubbles pushing around her as she moved the water around her. She was here, alive.

“How is this…” Mipha stared at her hands, unmistakably solid, and forgave the tremor in her voice. “What happened?”

A warm light had descended into the depths of Vah Ruta. Mipha had known instantly what it was—could feel the warmth of Hylia even through the coldness of her spirit. She briefly said her goodbyes, before capturing the light in her hands and fading away.

In all honesty, Mipha hadn’t been certain what would come after that. But hurtling toward the ground at high speeds had not been it.

“I should…what should I do?” Mipha waded anxiously back and forth beneath the turbulent current. “Should I return to the Domain? Would that cause some sort of issue? Perhaps I should return to Vah Ruta…”

Despite her fondness for her Divine Beast, Mipha couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through her at that. Surely after committing one hundred years to her tomb, the Goddesses would forgive her stalling her return a bit.

“I’m not even sure how much time has passed since Link’s victory over Ganon…” Mipha mumbled quietly. “For all I know, thousands of years have passed. Perhaps I’ve been reincarnated? Though I don’t think one usually reincarnates as an adult. Or with their memories, for that matter.” Even passing fish seemed to eye her warily as she fidgeted in place. She groaned.

“Oh, just make up your mind, Mipha!” she scolded quietly, squishing her face. “Right, then I’ll return to the Domain and ask around. Surely someone will be able to fill in the details.”

With that, Mipha propelled herself upwards into the main current, pivoted around the bend, and smashed headlong into something.

It was large and red, but that was all Mipha could make out past the stars in her eyes. The direct hit to the nose had shocked her system, leaving her nearly blind in the water. Dazed, she pushed upwards until water gave way to cool air. She shook her head, which only served to worsen the ringing in her ears.

Thankful at least that her sight returned, Mipha blinked and almost doubted her newly restored vision. A Zora nearly twice her size was treading water in front of her, rubbing his nose and saying something Mipha couldn’t quite make out.

“…a…logies, I must h… let the cur…nt…rry me too quickly. Are you injured? I can help you back to the Domain if you are. Again, I apologize for…” The large Zora trailed off as he looked down, blinking owlishly at Mipha.

He was familiar in a way that pulled deep at Mipha’s soul. She could see the lines of others—parts of her father, her mother, even some of herself—but it was the way his eyes lit up with an almost childlike hope that solidified what her heart already knew.

“Sidon?” She asked.

Sidon’s face split into a blinding grin.

“Sister!” He swam forward, before jolting to a stop. His eyes snapped behind her, and it was as they widened in horror that Mipha heard the charging of a shock arrow being knocked.

Spinning, Mipha reached for her trident and was met with empty air. Frantic, she launched a weak spray of water at the Lizalfo before being yanked away. She heard the arrow loose, then the sickening thunk as it embedded into skin.

She looked up at Sidon, who was hunched over her protectively. He winced, undoubtedly from the arrow lodged in his shoulder, and turned to the Lizalfo with gritted teeth.

“No!” Mipha cried. She pulled Sidon underwater, doing her best to ignore the pained yelp as she tugged on his injured arm to urge him lower.

“If I hadn’t struck the arrow with water and activated the shock before it hit you, your injury would be much more severe. We must dive deep enough that the shock radius won’t hit us if he fires again.”

“It’s just one Lizalfo, Sister!” Sidon said, but she could hear him hiss a little as he swam. “I promise, I’ve handled much worse!”

“There is never just one Lizalfo, Sidon,” She chided. “This should be deep enough. Let me heal you.”

She swam behind him, frowning at the scars that littered his body. “I need to remove the arrow before I can begin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Sidon says, his smile strained slightly with pain. “It’s not the first time that this has happened.”

“That is what concerns me,” Mipha said quietly. She yanked the arrow out quickly before pressing her hands to the wound, pooling her energy into her palms. “I have no doubt you have defended our domain bravely, Sidon. I’m so incredibly proud of you. I only wish I could have been there to heal you and protect you from harm.”

“Sister…” Sidon said quietly. He moved to turn, but Mipha tutted at him and he stayed still, tilting his head down to stare at the riverbed below.

“It has undoubtedly been difficult since your…since you failed to return from Vah Ruta,” Sidon said. “But your unending kindness and devotion have been a beacon of hope for our whole kingdom. None more than me. You may not have known it, but there was never a moment you weren’t with me.”

He tilted his head to the side, peering over his shoulder as Mipha worked. “If I may ask, Sister, how is it that you’ve managed to return? Not that I’m ungrateful, I assure you! But…”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure myself,” Mipha said, quietly lifting her hands as the last threads of her healing magic settled into Sidon. “One moment I was aboard Vah Ruta, a spirit, finally content to move on knowing the war was won and our people were safe. Then, the next moment, I’m hurtling toward the ground, several thousand feet in the air. I’m at a loss for explanations.”

Sidon spun around quickly, eyes sparkling. “That glowing comet in the sky, that was you? That is amazing! Extraordinary!” He grabbed her hands, smiling wide. “This must be a gift from the Goddess! Payment for your hard work and sacrifice, no doubt! No one would be more deserving than you!”

At that, Mipha paused. “Do you think…The other Champions, would they have also…?”

“Perhaps so,” Sidon said, scratching his chin. “I can’t say I’ve heard anything, but admittedly I don’t keep very informed on foreign affairs. Perhaps someone else in the Domain has heard something? Or…!”

Sidon snapped to attention, smile glowing impossibly brighter. “I’ll send for Link! Surely he’ll know, as well-traveled and sociable as he is, and I have no doubt he will be thrilled to see you again! Perhaps we could even call the engagement back on!”

Mipha sputtered bubbles at Sidon’a grin. “S-Sidon! There is—was never any engagement! Link and I are friends, th-that’s all!”

Sidon frowned, looking thoughtful. “But I was positive the Zora armor was for him. It looked like a perfect fit!”

“Oh, you found that then?” Mipha said, voice pitching up an octave. “That was, erm, well it was a rash decision really. I thought better of it, hence why he never found out about it! So really, there’s no need to tell him it was even made!”

“Ah, so you didn’t end up confessing anything,” Sidon said, nodding. “Your diary entry was unclear, so I wasn’t sure whether the two of you had made proper arrangements or not. Poor Link remembers very little from that time, unfortunately, and even showing him the passage didn’t seem to help.”

“You…You read my diary?” Mipha mumbled in disbelief. She then swayed a little, realization hitting her. “Link read my diary?!”

“Yes?”

“Did…Did anyone else?”

“Father, Muzu, and a very talented Rito bard named Kass.”

Mipha made a noise like a tea kettle and Sidon looked immediately abashed, glancing away. “Er, I do hope that was alright? Father said you likely wouldn’t have minded, and I wanted so desperately to preserve your legacy.”

“Well, then I have a few words for Father,” Mipha huffed. “Reading a girl’s diary, really! How uncouth.”

She swam past him before turning, holding out a hand for Sidon. It felt a little silly now, offering to guide a Zora so much larger than herself. He must be about her age now and had clearly grown into a capable warrior. But in those eyes, Mipha could only see her young brother, still anxious to speak to others or swim too far from her side.

If Sidon took offense to the gesture, he showed no sign of it as he took her hand tightly. But then he let go, swam beside her, withdrew his trident—Mipha almost thought it was her own, but reconsidered when she noticed how large it was—and set it horizontally behind his back. He tilted his head toward it, but Mipha simply stared in confusion.

“I imagine falling from the sky was a harrowing experience, and I cannot begin to think of how taxing being revived from the dead must be,” Sidon clears his throat, eyes drifting to the side. “Allow me to carry you back. It will be easier to dodge enemies if we travel together, and I assure you I am capable. I am one of the fastest swimmers in the Domain, after all!”

Mipha stared at him a moment more before his action clicked into place. She’d done the same things for him when he was young—using her own trident as a handgrip for a much smaller Sidon as they traversed the waterfalls. Muzu had worried endlessly about it, convinced that Sidon would slip or that his grip would falter and he would go coasting off the side of a cliff. But she’d insisted that she trusted Sidon’s strength and courage, and her father had agreed to allow her to continue.

Now, Sidon swam nervously in front of her, offering his trident to her in the same gesture. She felt her heart swell, seeing that even after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten their time together. She smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again as she dove behind Sidon. He turned to look, smile faltering for a moment before Mipha set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Forgive me, Sidon. I was overcome with emotions. I trust you, and thank you for your kindness.” She tightened her hands around the trident, and the feeling of cool Zora steel beneath her hands for the first time in a century sent a chill through her. “I’m ready when you a—re!”

Mipha bit down a yelp as Sidon shot through the water at near-blinding speeds. It took her a moment to adjust, and even the familiar Zora River left her speechless as it whipped by. She now had no doubt her brother was the strongest swimmer she’d ever met—it was as if the water itself was pushing him forward like a jet stream. It was exhilarating, almost like learning to swim all over again, and Mipha couldn’t contain the joyous laughter that pulled its way out of her.

She was here, really here, feeling the water on her scales and the cool metal under her fingers. She could see the fish and plants move as they swam by, could see the trail of bubbles in their wake. When they broke the surface of the water, cutting effortlessly up the falls of the Domain, she gasped, taking in the view.

She was with her beloved brother, in her beloved home, and she was alive.

[avasillva]

me, reading 100k+ word fanfics for fandoms i’m barely even in: self-care 😌

[deiaiko]

#23 - Kiss

Masterlist

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☕ Buy me coffee ☕

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3000

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: Hi everyone!! I decided to post this here too...I'm slowly going through everything I've written so far, and I want to post each chapter here as I edit them. I'm hoping that this can be a way to a) get back in to writing more, and b) get better at my art as I make full illustrations for each chapter. Let me know what you think!! :)

There is nothing quite as horrible as being a muggle, Eloise thought savagely as she ripped out yet another stitch in the landscape she was embroidering. At least, it was supposed to be a landscape. Maybe with her head tilted to the left and with her eyes almost closed so everything blurred together, it might resemble one. She did just that, trying her hardest to make out some recognizable shape and blast the stupid practice of manually pushing colored thread through a fabric in some sort of -

“And what is this, Miss Babbit?”

Eloise jumped at the sound and looked up at the scowling face of her teacher, and then quickly back down at the tangled thread in her lap. Behind her, she could hear the hushed giggles of the other girls in her class.

“Oh! Er…it’s -”

“How long have you been here?” the woman interrupted.

“One hour…I just -”

“Don’t be smart with me. I mean, at this institute.”

“Five years.” Eloise glared down at her embroidery as if it had personally offended her. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to be bad at everything, but she had the distinct disadvantage - how had it ever come to be that she would be at a disadvantage to muggles? - of not having spent a lifetime being prepared for muggle society and all that it entailed. The last five years had been a monotonous, endless cycle of lessons designed to turn her into the perfect lady: French (a waste of time as Eloise was already fluent), embroidery (a waste of time as the things she embroidered weren’t actually useful), dancing (a waste of time as she was already engaged to be married - why would she bother trying to woo another silly man?), and her most dreaded class of all: etiquette. No matter how many years had been spent trying to assimilate into muggle culture, her thoughts still got muddled when she tried to remember the steps to a dance, or how to properly address the son of a duke.

Did it really matter, anyways, what the other girls thought? She had pretended her whole life to be the daughter she thought her parents had wanted - now she was simply pretending that she hadn’t been thrown into the muggle world without a second thought. What was a bit more pretending - that she didn’t care? That she hadn’t been tossed aside without a second thought?

“Exactly. Five years. And yet, you have shown no progress whatsoever. This -” a finger jabbed accusingly at the embroidery - “is absolutely horrendous. If your parents hadn’t continued to make such a sizeable donation every year, I would have deemed you a lost cause and sent you packing when you first arrived. How your family ever managed your betrothal to the son of an earl is beyond me.”

Eloise grimaced at the mention of her fiance as her teacher clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class - a wholly unnecessary action due to the fact that it was already being given. “Class is dismissed. Please collect your belongings and put them in the correct place. Remember, as future wives and mothers, you must be organized in all aspects of your life. Many of you will be managing important households and the slightest misstep -“ a slight glance to Eloise out of the corner of her eye - “can cause the biggest of scandals.”

Eloise raced to gather her things and leave the classroom before everyone else. No matter how many years had been spent at the school, she couldn’t help but hate sitting through the classes amongst the judgmental stares and snide remarks. Although things had started out shaky at the finishing school - to be expected, really, when you’ve grown up in wizarding society and then are then forced to live as a muggle - it still stung that after all these years, she still hadn’t found a friendly face. She was treated as if she were a pariah: it was as if the other girls just knew that something was different about her. But…wasn’t that the great irony of it all? She wasn’t different than them. She was a filthy squib.

When she first arrived at the school, she was an anomaly. A twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to play the piano or who the queen was. It was clear to everyone that Eloise wasn’t the charity case of the school - her parents were obviously quite wealthy - and yet they seemingly wanted nothing to do with her. Whereas the others got regular letters and visits from their family, it was as if Eloise were an orphan. Nothing new to her of course, but to her peers this otherness aided them in her ostracization.

Upon entering her room, she was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts. Something wasn’t right. Everything seemed the same: a twin bed perfectly made opposite a small wardrobe, a plain wooden desk placed between them. The weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her desk. But…there.

That…

Placed on her bed, resting on the pillow, was a letter.

She never received letters.

Eloise shoved her embroidery under her bed and hungrily grabbed at it, pausing when she saw the address. Miss E. Babbit. The Third Bedroom on the Left… It seemed vaguely familiar to her in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

As she read the letter, though, it became apparent to her exactly why this was. Although not exactly the same as the one her brother had received six years earlier, it quickly became apparent that this was a Hogwarts letter. For her. For Miss E. Babbit.

Hands shaking, she set the letter down on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed. She smoothed her hands over her skirt over and over, taking comfort in the familiar softness as she tried to even her breathing.

How was this possible? She had all but accepted the fact that she was a squib. The shame of her family, a dirty secret to be hidden away and never talked about or mentioned again. Her parents had suspected as much by the time she had turned seven without any signs of magic whatsoever manifesting around her - not even a basic transformation of brussel sprouts to sweets during dinner. It was ultimately confirmed, however, when her own Hogwarts acceptance letter never arrived. She had spent the whole year before her banishment daydreaming about her life at Hogwarts, still optimistic that there could be something magical inside of her. Her brother, Leo, came home every holiday with wonderful stories of his new friends and teachers, and the subjects he was learning at school. Even back then, at twelve years old, Eloise hadn’t been sure if he was actually hopeful she wasn’t a squib, or if he had been trying to prolong the fantasy for her before it all came crashing down.

Although she had had five years to come to terms with her new life, there was still a small part of her that hoped. A small “what if…”. She had tried time and time again to squash that tiny ray of optimism that would escape every so often, tried so very hard to cultivate a hard exterior that wouldn’t let any sort of vulnerability shine through. And that optimism was a vulnerability, after all. It was that vulnerability that had made it absolutely impossible for her to fit in the muggle world, and made it so that she didn’t really want to try.

Five years to come to terms with the fact that she needed a new purpose for her life and…

…not anymore?

Eloise grabbed the letter and greedily read through it again, drinking in all of the words. She paused at the end, thinking. Was this a forgery? Some sort of awful joke orchestrated by her brother? Leo had never been cruel to her in the past; in fact, he was the one who always encouraged her and was the most probable source of the small optimism that remained within her. However, she had no way of knowing how he had changed since she had last seen him. It had been, after all, five very long years. And not once had she heard from him, even though he had promised her through huge sobbing gulps that he would never abandon her. Maybe their parents had slowly poisoned him against her. It would be right on the nose for them, after all.

Looking at the envelope again, however…Third Bedroom on the Left…no. It was too specific. Nobody in her previous life had any reason to even want to contact her again, and nobody in her current life even knew what Hogwarts was, let alone have the ability to convincingly forge a letter just to have some fun at her expense.

A light, bubbly feeling began to spread throughout her body as it sunk in that this was real. She was going to Hogwarts. Soon, a - squinting at the letter again - a Professor Fig would be contacting her and giving her things to study. A huge grin slowly spread across her face and she hugged the letter to her chest as she fell back on her bed. She read through it again. Was it the fifth time already? It felt as though no amount of times rereading the letter would ever be enough.

Eloise got up and walked over to look at the calendar on her desk. She was surprised to see that September 1st was in only two days. The days at the finishing school moved in such a strange, sluggish way. They all felt the same. Monotonous. French and Latin and embroidery and household management and Merlin even knows what else all blending into each other in an endless parade of dusty classrooms and gossip and boredom.

The light feeling left her in an instant as, after years of practice, the optimism was squashed back down. But how will you even get to London? And, her brain added sneakily, you haven’t even shown any signs of magic. Maybe you’ll just be returned back here after they realize their mistake.

No, she thought fiercely, gripping the letter. Until -

A tapping came from the window. A tentative smile returned at the sight of a tawny brown owl with another envelope in its beak. She ripped it open as soon as it was in her hands (again addressed to Miss E. Babbit) and along with the letter a small, purple pouch fell out of the envelope and onto her bed.

Miss Eloise Babbit,

I am pleased to be the wizard charged with such an important task as escorting you to Hogwarts in two days’ time. It is something extraordinary to be accepted in your fifth-year, and as such, I expect extraordinary things from you. I have enclosed a small pouch along with this envelope, and in it are some items that will be vital to you in the upcoming days. I have included books for you to study at your leisure, and a small gobstone that will bring you to our rendezvous point in London. All you have to do is touch it at noon on the 1st and you will be transported instantly.

Your family has not been informed of your acceptance. I am sure you understand why - at this, Eloise scoffed quietly to herself - which is why I will personally be your escort.

I am looking forward to meeting you and bringing you to the sorting ceremony in two days’ time.

Yours,

Eleazar Fig

The handwriting was tiny and spidery and cramped, but it didn’t stop Eloise from reading it with the same vigor as the previous letter and as many times. Finally, she turned to the small pouch that had fallen onto her bed when she opened the second envelope. It must have had an invisible extension charm, because it was filled to the brim with books on basic spellwork and general wizarding history. Professor Fig had no way of knowing, but Eloise had already read many of these books and many more during the year her brother had started Hogwarts, as she had needed to know absolutely everything about what would be awaiting her. A few years may have passed since she had stepped foot in her family’s library, but she couldn’t get the books or their contents out of her brain even if she had wanted to. She had really wanted to forget everything she knew about the magical world when it was confirmed she was a squib but it was a futile effort. As she zoned out during her piano lessons, she would find herself mentally going through the movements to cast different charms.

It was painful to be thinking about things from the life that had been ripped away from her, to know that what she was thinking about would never come to pass, that she would never be able to wield magic - and yet she couldn’t find herself able to stop.

As Eloise picked out one of the books and settled into her armchair, a steely resolve overcame her.

She would prove that she deserved to be there, and was just as capable as any of they were. She would make her parents regret ever discarding her like she was nothing.

She was worthy. She was capable. And she would prove it.

The morning of September 1st dawned cold and rainy. Absolutely perfect.

Eloise had pretended to be sick the night before, and no one had suspected a thing when she stayed in bed long after all of the other girls had gotten ready and headed to breakfast. As the last of the chattering faded away down the hallway, Eloise finally got out of bed and prepared herself for the day. It was difficult to sit still long enough to braid her hair. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling and she had to restart countless times. Finally, she tied the black ribbon at the end into a neat bow and turned to the drawer of her desk to retrieve the small purple pouch she had hidden away.

Everything she deemed important enough to come along with her had already been placed inside: the books from Professor Fig, the hair ribbons gifted to her by her brother many years ago, and some clothing. Nothing else was coming with. She needed the fresh start. Besides, anything else she might need would be supplied, as her acceptance letter had specifically stated that any school supplies would be provided to her.

Waiting the hours before noon came along proved to be more difficult than Eloise had imagined. Time seemed to be moving slower than the molasses that had come with the breakfast sent up to her, the steady patter of the rain becoming a sort of metronome keeping time as she paced back and forth. Wasn’t there anything that could distract her, even for a bit? She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time. 10.35.

The second hand ticking away in tandem with the sound of rain splashing against her window.

What if this was all a trick? What if she arrived at Hogwarts, and they turned her away because they realized they had made a mistake? After all, why would they admit a sixteen-year-old? Surely she was too old; every other student had started Hogwarts at the age of twelve and had shown signs of magic much earlier than that. She still hadn’t shown any signs of magical capability whatsoever, and didn’t feel any different than she had before receiving the letter. It had to be a fluke.

As her thoughts started veering into the melancholy she was prone to, she shook her head. No. Today was a happy, exciting day. She wasn’t going to squash the optimism down today, not when she needed it most. All of these thoughts she was having were simply that: thoughts. Not reality. Hogwarts never made a mistake, and in all of the history books she had read, she couldn’t recall an instance of someone being turned away at the door. Granted, she had also never heard of someone being admitted so late. But, better to focus on what she did know, which was that she had gotten the letter. It must be right in its assumption that she had magic.

Trying to pass the time was easier said than done. She ended up quizzing herself on all of the charms she had memorized in the books sent by Professor Fig, moving an imaginary wand in the precise movements needed to successfully cast and focusing on her pronunciation. She had studied all of these forms late into both nights she had had the books, and when she would eventually close her eyes to sleep, the wand movements were all she saw.

Eloise was determined that she would receive pity from nobody. Nobody was going to look at her like she was lacking. She had gotten enough of that to last a lifetime, and now that she was given this opportunity she wasn’t about to waste it.

When noon finally struck, Eloise was ready and waiting. She eagerly grabbed the gobstone that was sitting on her desk and felt the familiar tugging sensation in her navel as she was whisked away to London and the beginning of her new life.

next chapter

[kazbrown]

I've been thinking about an watching/reaction fic idea for FOP.

Weird, I know, but listen.

Timmy, Tootie, the twins, Cosmo, Wanda, Peri, Hazel and Dev watch some of Timmy's best moments/episodes, cuz I feel like people sleep on Timmy's accomplishments over the years.

I can see a couple things happening in this kinda fic:

Tootie would be matured but still fangirl over her husband's heroics with Peri being almost just as bad.

Tammy and Tommy would see how cool their dad is

Cosmo and Wanda being the sappy, embarrassing, proud parents over their son.

Hazel would be awed at her godbrothers(?) feats.

Dev would be at first be jealous of Timmy and be insecure about himself, but will eventually see Timmy be a better father than Dale.

Episodes they should watch:

Abracatastrophe

Channel Chasers

Fairly Odd Baby ( to embarrassed Peri lol )

For Emergencies only

Wishology

Any Tootie foucued episodes

Jimmy Timmy Power Hours

Nicktoons Unite ( not necessary but fun idea )

EDIT: I totally forgot about one episode they HAVE to see: It's a Wishful Life! It would get EVERYONE foaming at the mouth and angry at Jorgen. I've imagined Timmy never told Cosmo and Wanda about that wish, since they seem to not remember.

Anyway, what do you guys think? Just a fun and unique idea I thought of while getting in back into Fairly Oddparents, I know I can't be trusted to write something this good ( I've still yet to update my Hazbin Hotel fic since May 😭 ), so I hope someone would see this and write it.

Please, I'm VERY DESPERATE for this kind of reaction fic!

[sophsicle]

I AM A GROWN ADULT

[sdeprived]

Hello! So, emm... the yaoi devil posessed me and I ended up writing 4149 porn :3

-Sleep🌵

[kastavanes]

To every author that hasn't updated their fic in a while or dropped for any reason : I remember you, I miss you and I will always love the story you managed to gave me

[all-eyes-no-dragon]

I wanted to rec this for a while. This is the most amazing humans are space orcs story I've ever read. It's called, "In Search of Home".

It's an original work so there's no fandom you need to know to read it, it's over 362,000 words, which is more than decently long, and has an ongoing sequel that's surpassed the word count of the first story (we love getting closure 💞). It has a happy ending (not a spoiler, it says in the tags) so don't worry about your heart breaking too much.

I'm rereading the first story and I feel kind of cool knowing the alien words.

I cried reading it, I laughed, I felt victorious. I love it so much and want more people to know it exists because original works aren't as popular on ao3.

Mind the tags!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43547319

Summary:

[the-ineffable-wanderer]

DBH fic writers and readers on AO3 be like.

DON'T KILL ME.... I love love love good Connor fics too. I am very self-aware. His story is excellent and, well, he arguably "becomes" human the most. Give me that sweet, sweet fanfic where he tries to have emotions. It's just kind of funny, isn't it?

Alternative version under the cut.

Looking at you, Reed900 enjoyers (including me). Haha