#everything can be turned into ru au

[faslaj]

Yeah. It’s Jason Kolchek. The author of this post sees the police in the moscow metro almost every day and thinks. (Thinks a LOT and LOUDLY)

Ru au!!! It’s really fun for me and I’m just giggling every time when a little thought about this silly idea appears in my head

#jason kolchek #salim othman #dark pictures anthology #jalim #police au #everything can be turned into ru au #if you try #wip #i’m trying my best #LOVE HIM

[richeeduvie]

Saw a vid of a mom asking her husband if he would babysit their daughter (as a prank tehe bc this one influencer made a vid ab how she has to bribe her husband to “babysit” their child and it was v upsetting bc she was just laughing it off :(() anyways the dad was like:

“??? what ru trying to say ¿¿¿ of course I’ll spend quality time with our daughter while ur out, don’t call it babysitting I’m not sitting on no baby 🤬”

He was so angry at the implication he wouldn’t want to take care of his baby for one night, it just gave ROMAN!! He would bite Baby’s head off if she tried to mess w him like this, and then he would bite her leg for trying to leave the house without her life companions. Why can’t he come with you to the spa? It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t want any services they provide, he is perfectly content to sit on a chair in complete silence and just stare at your face while u get pampered. That IS his preferred self care routine. And the baby? The misty air and soothing aura has her in a deep slumber, her chunky cheeks smooshed into her papas chest she’s securely wrapped against. She’s a perfect little thing, Roman is,,, a scrappy little thing BUT STILL! Baby mommy claims to love him anyway, so why does she want to go alone???

All of this just for Baby to not even have an actual evening away planned 😭 poor woman. She just upset her impish man, and saddened her angel who heard her papas wails of distress “Mama u want to go away 😞?” Stupid Roman when will he learn he can’t go on his tirades anymore, there’s a toddler who roams these halls! Baby pinches him and walks away pissed w her baby, he’s always ruining her fun. He comes to bed an hour later, she makes him grovel but puts him out of his misery because he did in fact book them a weekend getaway to the Hamptons yay! All 3 Roy’s are coming tho bc he’s still her ball and chain.

This took me so long to type and it’s supposed to be a request 😭 my apologies, feel free to change anything and everything you’d like, I gotta go take a test I’ve had all day to complete and pushed to the last minute.

I love when you people write drabbles. I get to be the reader. I get to consume!! And it's always great. I love this!

Babysitter

Roman Roy x Reader blurb - DogandBone!AU

He is her father. Not her fucking babysitter.

------

Roman watches your daughter just toddle around. She's perfect. And this is perfect. He's such a father.

He became a father when you had her, yeah. But here - just looking at her, something soft and swallowed in his eyes, it's all the more prominent.

She plays with blocks. Roman watches intently. It makes you warm and you think he's under the sun like this, he's getting red in the face for it. He can't handle her being cute, which at this point, you think that just means your little girl being a little toddler.

"Top blue. No red. Ba ba blue."

It almost breaks away the giddiness of a prank.

Roman's with your baby all the time. You are with your baby all the time. You're with Roman all the time. Safe to say, you think he'll call you an idiot whore for the idea that he's babysitting. That or it'll be meanie. Mean wife.

You smile.

"Roman, I was planning on going out tonight."

"...It's five. I have to get ready? You didn't want to plan on going out tonight yesterday? Look at her, she's not mentally prepared for being outside. Also, fuck the outside. It was smelling like sewage when we came in, but I think it was that guy who looked like his name was Eddie."

"I was just thinking by myself. I didn't make an appointment but I think they can fit me in for a semi-retreat."

Roman looks to the babbling toddler with her blocks. She's very focused on building it high. Then he turns to you.

"Are you sick of me? Fuck you. What did I even do?"

"Nothing. I just felt impulsive for a spa night."

"I didn't even do anything - like actually...nothing? And now you want to go get your feet rubbed by someone else? Whore. Whore Mommy."

"Ba!"

You roll your eyes. You know Roman has to remember that he gets too whiny and puppy-eyed whenever you mention a foot rub you've had from a spa day. You've taken your feet just for him.

"It'll be quick. Maybe a facial. You can babysit her for a bit?"

"I can literally give you a facial. If you make me, I can-"

Roman's shift with his hands, his attempt to convince, humor, and humiliate.

"...What did you just...what the fuck?"

His eyes get sorta squinty. He's riled. You like Roman riled - you can always get him small and defenseless when he goes too far in a defense. But here, in how you try not to laugh, you'll have to know when to settle.

Maybe now with the vein popping in his forehead.

"Daddy go swear. No swear, Daddy. Blocks like when ears are clean."

Her block tower is almost as tall as her. But she's come up to Roman, shaking her head at his bent knee. She's making sure her Daddy hears her.

You swallow when Roman's not bending his anger to his humor. He just squeezes your daughter's chubby little hand.

You don't think the word babysit has sat well with him at all.

"Did you just tell me to fu...did you kinda just tell me to babysit her?"

Yes, you do. It was funnier in the video. But the husband in the video wasn't Roman.

You should know better, you love him too much that you should know better.

"Why Daddy look crazy?"

Roman pinches his nose bridge and swallow again.

"You just piled a cock-load. A massive cock-load of hurt on me. Wow. Okay." He stands. He's gotten so seriously so quickly. "You're mean and you've been snorting my dead dad's blood clot medication or maybe you've had a brain aneurysm because is she not my kid?"

Your daughter, her sweet head looking up to her Daddy, looks just as confused as you.

"I have not left this place and I really didn't want to because she's my kid. It's not babysitting - I'm not a nanny. We agreed on no nannies? I'm a nanny?"

"Roman-"

"Is this your way of telling me I've been secretly cucked and she's not my baby?"

"...M' not baby?"

You and Roman both turn at the softest voice. It's sweet and genuine and so toddler-like. She is too cute and she is just a toddler. A perfect child who bites her fingers.

Then Roman looks sick - and even though you're the dumb one here, it serves him right for making your sweet girl ask the question in the first place.

"No. Honey, you're my baby. I'm not a babysitter. Do I look like I crush babies?"

Roman's voice tightens in a whine. Possessive and defensive. All of him in the small of his throat.

"Mommy just doesn't like us." Roman looks down, feigns a moment of thinking with his the line of his mouth pushing to one side. "Well, what are we gonna do? We just have to let her go away and do a spa day without us. It's just us now. Forever. Sucks for Daddy mostly cause I've always planned suicide for this route but-"

"Roman."

"Mommy?"

"Oh, sweetheart-"

Her tiny, perfect voice breaks. She's more confused than ever and your heart twists.

"Mommy. No go, I don't-I don't-" She looks to Roman. "...You go away? Why?"

She's very soft and shy in her voice, like she always is. Still too kind for a toddler as she gets teary-eye.

You look to Roman, it's easy to show disappointment along your face.

He looks like he's about to vomit watching his daughter.

You bend down.

"No, sweetheart. Mommy's not going anywhere. Nowhere, okay? I was just joking. Daddy was just joking."

"I don't- I don't know."

"It's okay. Now you do. Mommy's here forever."

She sniffles and unlike her father, she doesn't feign thinking - she thinks really hard. She nods and rubs her cheek against your chest.

"Sorry for crying. But okay." She wraps her arms around you as much as she can. "Daddy, I don't know why you tell that."

Now your little girl is back to a silly voice in questioning.

"Yeah, Daddy. Why did you say all of that? To a little baby girl?"

"...I didn't - Daddy didn't mean..."

Roman's voice fades and breaks.

Well, you've gotten him small this way. You sigh and stand up, taking your daughter with you. You don't think it'll bode well if you try to leave her by skin.

"Jesu-!"

"You love a good nipple pinch."

Roman rubs his nipple with a scrunched face.

"It's my sorry. I'm sorry, Rome - it was a joke. I don't even have any plans. I just wanted to see how much babysitting would fuck with you. And it fucked with you."

And not pinching the other nipple is his punishment.

You hear a little mm on your shoulder. You kiss your daughter's cheek.

"Sorry, baby."

"She's a smart baby, she understands now. No suicide talk, at least.

"...Sorry." Roman just looks to his shirt. You think it's because he can't look to you. "That was like...mean. She's my baby."

"I know. That's why it's a joke. I'm gonna be in the room. Come with your own sorry."

You're almost asleep with your baby in your arms when Roman comes. You don't know he's been swallowing the sickness down while staring into the threads of the couch. Cause he's just the worst fucking Daddy who can't take a joke. That's him. He's a cute, smart sort of guy that everyone should want with the one person he wants being a super hot Mommy-lady. His best friend. But he's also fucking stupid. He should die, maybe?

Roman scratches a digging sort of scratch at the image of his daughter in her almost tears, confused and reaching for her mommy.

He needs a kiss. He needs a kiss right now or he'll die. It feels like it. He can't breathe, stupidly.

Roman comes into the room and monkey cuddles you from behind. He manages to play with her hair. Her asleep, mouth slightly parted like her father when you watch him sleep.

"We'll go to the Hamptons and we can give facials there. Make them creamy. But it's all of us that are going. And you can't leave me. Like. Actually. Not out of my sight. You won't be able to perceive anything but me and our daughter and that means no stupid ideas.

"Roman."

"She's asleep. Also...sorry for being the worst Daddy. I really did mean for my quip to end up putting our baby in tears."

You sigh.

You know he's suffered enough. He's real in his insecurity.

You kiss his forearm and you hear a sharp breath from behind, it moves against your spine.

"You're the best Daddy. It was nothing. She'll make you play floaties with her forever in the pool."

"...Fuck yeah. She will do that. Hopefully, if, you know, I didn't slap trauma on her face at my attempt at humor against a toddler-"

"Roman."

It's not his name that shuts him up, it's just bite to his forearm. It's all the love in your teeth.

"Yeah?"

"We love you."

"I was hoping on that for my will to not throw myself over the timber Brooklyn bridge..."

You feel his cheek press into your back.

"I love you guys too. Tell her I said that if I fall asleep before she wakes up."

You smile against Roman's bitemark. You'll try your best. It's the least you can do after your mess of a joke. Your love in making more small and needy for you after everything never outranks the need for him to know that he is loved.

Roman nuzzles before there's a lick.

"Can do."

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Interest 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

Note: this one is a bit longer than I anticipated!

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You have everything neatly tucked into a box for your delivery. You're anxious, more so to get it done and over with, than to meet the demanding buyer. Your mother finishes up and hurries you to get ready. You can’t help but take your time.

You bring another box, this one full of parcels to be sent out. After dropping those off, you’re back in the car hug the last order in your lap. Your mother pulls into the lot, just behind the garden center outside, now selling wreaths and pine trees in lieu of the season bulbs and petals.

You get out and check your phone. Your mom comes around to read over your shoulder. You keep an arm around the box as you lean it against the car. You bring up your Etsy messages.

‘Think I got here early. In the garden center checking out the garlands.’ 

“Oh, great,” your mother says, “we won’t have to waste too much time.”

“Mhmm,” you agree and bring your other arm around the box, pressing your phone to it as you follow her. 

She doesn’t wait as she walks along the wall of the garden centre and dips through the door. You catch up inside, nearly bouncing off of her as you hold the box ahead of you. She squeals and points out a shelf of ornaments made of pine cones. You humour her with a smile and hum.

“Those are cute, mom, but we’re not here to shop,” you huff as you peer around.

That woman in the patchwork jacket looks like a farmer. She has the square jaw of a real hard lady. You know she’d probably best you in any physical combat. You meet her eye, tilting her head in question, ‘are these your crochet goods? Huh? Did you make me come all the way down here?’

She frowns and quickly turns away. Alright, not her but you’ve definitely creeped her out. You glance back at your mom as she ogles the ornaments. You wonder how she manages to work from home effectively.

“Excuse me, uh, SashayCrochet? Um, I think that’s for me?” A voice draws you back to face the rows of trees and hanging wreaths. You almost fall over as you recognize the man approaching you. No flipping way. “Hey,” he points at you in a similar epiphany.

“Uh, Farmer’s Delight?” You grimace.

“That’d be me,” he smiles. He’s wearing the same tan jacket, you note the stain by the pocket, “thanks for meeting me here.”

“Uh huh,” you squint at him. What a gosh dang diddly darn coincidence this is. “Here, everything’s there. Have a good day.”

“Oh, wow,” he sputters as you push the box against his stomach, slowly placing his hands on the corners. “Do you mind if I check to make sure or–”

You hold back a sneer. You can’t believe this. You had a bad feeling all along. You somehow don’t think this is fate. You think this guy has a problem. Why would he needs a lady’s magenta cap and matching mitts?

“Honey,” your mom finally catches on to the scene behind her, “oh, is this him?”

“Um, hello,” the weirdo smiles at her, “yeah, uh, it’s me. Cole.”

He offers his hand as he shifts the box under his arm. Your mother shakes his hand and nearly vibrates in excitement. She loves finding a new mark for her unending small talk. They deserve each other.

“Cole, that’s such a cute name,” she rescinds her hand, holding it over her chest coyly, “matches you well.”

“Mom,” you growl, raising your chin defiantly at Cole the creep, “I included an invoice so you can see everything’s there. Go ahead and check, we have things to do.”

“Honey, don’t be so rude,” your mother chides, “so, Cole, you live on a farm?”

He sets the box down on the corner of a table and shuffles through the contents. You stay where you are as your mom steps closer. You wonder if she sees the silver in his beard and just thinks that’s some festive touch. He’s ancient.

“Yeah, my parents’ place. I help out. As much as I can.”

“Oh, wow, I always dreamt of living out in the country but I’m too much of a busy body. The city is where I belong,” she preens, “but my daughter, she’s loves being at home. Don’t you, honey?” She beckons to you but you don’t move. “Spends all her time making this stuff,” she motions to the box.

“It’s very nice,” he says as he admires the beret style cap, “good handiwork. Talented.”

“Yes, a good hobby,” your mom insists, “not so useful as working the field, I’m sure.”

He chuckles, “yeah, I guess, but it takes all sorts.” He lifts the box up again, “my mother is going to love all this. Her birthday’s just around the corner and I didn’t really wanna walk in with another gift store teddy bear.”

“Too sweet,” your mom chimes, “any mother would be so lucky. Honey, get over here.” She reaches back blindly and grabs your arm, forcing you up next to her, “she always makes me something pretty for the holidays but you can only really have so many socks and scarfs.”

“Mom,” you snarl again, glowering at Cole as amusement dimples in his cheek.

“Actually, uh, I was just coming from the market. I have a booth there. I sell plants, so, uh, I have some in my car. If you wanna have a look. You can have one for free… some probably won’t last that much longer,” he suggests.

“Oh, plants! I love plants. And with this weather, everything’s so grey,” your mother trills. “We’d love to have a look.”

You almost hiss at her again but you don’t want to argue, not in front of this man. He smiles and leads her out of the garden center. You trail behind reluctantly. Your mother glances over her shoulder and snaps her fingers at you. You come up behind her and lean in close.

“Mom,” you whisper, “do you really think we should follow this stranger to his car?”

“Stranger? He’s so nice.”

“You said two words to each other.”

“Don’t be so cynical,” she snaps back, lowering her voice as she talks out the side of her mouth, "he's gorgeous."

He takes her to a pale blue truck and opens the back door, he tucks the box on the floor and steps back, gesturing to the back seat. You furrow your brow at your mom. She is easy pickings.

“You can have a look. Mostly cacti,” he shrugs.

“Don’t mind if I do,” your mom steps up and peeks into the back seat.

You can see the edge of a cardboard tray as she moves around the small pots. You stay a few feet back and cross your arms. Cole edges towards you.

“I guess… we’re running into each other so I can apologise,” he says, keeping his voice notably low, “about the bookstore.”

“Huh, bookstore? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m being nice. I just wanna make it up for you. Why don’t you take a plant too?”

“I don’t have much of a green thumb. I’d rather knit my plants,” you sneer.

“You mean crochet,” he corrects you. You look at him sharply and he lifts his brows plaintively, “I’m learning, see?”

“Mom,” you put your hand up as if to say ‘talk to the hand’ and block him out, “hurry up. We gotta grab that thing for dad. Remember?”

“Great, I’m heading inside too,” Cole says, “they have some sod in stock and I need some chicken wire.”

“I like this one,” you mother shows a prickly cactus with a little red cushion on top, “and wonderful, you might know what this is,” she fishes out her phone with her free hand, “something for the sink. My husband sent me a link…”

You die a little as your mother shows him the web page. Of course she can’t just let him go. She can’t let you get out of this. She thinks this guy with his dumb blue eyes and sandy brown hair is some sort of Prince Charming.

“Maybe I’ll just wait in the car,” you say.

“Oh, honey, don’t be silly, it’s too cold for that.”

Cole looks at her phone, “oh, I know exactly where those are. One sec.”

He shuffles past her to shut his truck door. You glare at your mom but she doesn’t notice, she’s completely enamored with this tall hunk of weirdo. Whatever, you’ll have to sneak away and hide in the pet section and daydream about the puppy you never got.

#cole turner #dark cole turner #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #special interest #series #ghosted #drabble #au #bookstore au

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Bullet train au tangerine x fem reader where lemon and tangerine partner up with two other siblings and this time instead of tangerine dying fem reader loses her brother and she’s devastated and he’s all im going to fuck this train up for hurting my girl. 🥺 some comfort from tangerine to reader as well please!!! Tangerine then acts soft towards the reader

hii!! I love it!! this turned out angsty and sad, I hope that’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

ace of hearts

tangerine x f reader

readers code name is ace, twin brother is spade

wc || 1k

warnings || quite sad, might be a little heavy for some. death of readers brother, mentions of blood

a/n || I had a complete brain fart, for some reason I thought the deck of cards were diamond, heart, spade and ace. turns out, it’s ACE OF (…) not the actual card name😭 I forgot about ‘clubs’ but we’re gonna pretend that ace is a name of card, okay? or that it has some deeper connection and meaning to her brother lmao

masterlist + rules

taglist

Everything seemed to fall apart the very second the bullet train travelled past Tokyo Station. Everything you thought was under control, seemed not to be.

Ever since then, it all felt like some kind of progressively sick game; it started with the disappearance of the briefcase, then the death of the son, which was later followed by unexpected fights with others who also wanted the case. Everything right down to the very moment when you hear the unnerving sound of a gunshot a couple carriages down.

You’ve heard many gunshots in your time, but none of them scared you the way this one did. There was this daunting feeling throughout the entirety of your bones that told you it was something different to the thousands before. Pushing past the twins, you dart through the aisles, bustling through the cascade of people that were running away from the noise in fear. Stumbling your way in, you see him. And your heart crumbles.

Falling to your knees beside your twin brother, clutching his stomach while you applied pressure directly over his wound, trying to keep the blood from pouring out. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.” You say softly, your voice breaking as you look around with tear-filled eyes. “We’re gonna get some help, okay? It’s gonna be fine.” You assure him, but in actuality, you were reassuring yourself.

You hear a couple soft gasps from behind before feeling their presence join you shortly after. “What can we do? Quick.” Lemon says panicked, searching around for ways to keep the blood from gushing out.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, staring down at the painful expression that was spread across your brother Spade’s features.

“Where you going?” Lemon shouts, calling after Tangerine.

“To find the twat that did it.”

Turning your attention back to your best friend, your worried eyes darting over his face as you watched him attentively. Pushing a little harder over his wound when you notice his blood seep through the gaps in your hand. “It’s not working.” Your voice breaks as you quietly sob. “It’s not working— why isn’t it working?”

Lemon shimmies off his jacket and rolls it into a ball. “Count of three, we swap places. Okay? … one, two, three.” Sliding your hands away so that Lem could apply the pressure, you cup your hands around your brother's face to keep him calm. Staring down at him with eyes riddled with fear.

“You need to get off the train.” Spade says quietly, eyes fluttering as his head grew heavy in your hands.

“Not without you. We’re gonna get help... you’re gonna be okay.”

“No… please. Just leave me.” He sighs, holding into your hand that was resting against his face. Gripping you dearly as he looked up at you. “Please, you have to get out of here.”

“Just, no. We’re getting you off.” You say defiantly, holding his face stern to emphasise your words. “I can’t lose you… I won’t lose you.” Whispering in broken speech as you gaze down at his stomach.

“How is he?” Tangerine anxiously questions, rushing towards you as he shook off his now blood-splattered blazer. Lemon turns around to face him, slowly shaking his head with a pained smile.

“Just leave me here… please go…” His speech becomes slow and strained as his eyelids grow heavy. Fluttering every once in a while, until they didn’t.

“No.” You sob, softly shaking his head. “What you doing? Come on, that’s not funny.”

“Ace…” Tangerine says softly, kneeling beside you. Brushing slow circles over your lower back.

“He’s okay, he’s just resting his eyes.” You reply, your words coaxed in denial.

“Darling… he’s not.” Stroking higher up your back, gently urging you towards his embrace.

“He’s fine. Lem, what you doing? Put your hands back.” You heavily exhale, cupping back over his stomach. “Come on, he’s losing more blood.”

“Oh, honey,” Lemon says quietly, delicately removing your hands.

“We still have time.”

“We don’t, sweetheart.” Tangerine responds almost regretfully as he twists you around to face him. “He’s… gone.”

Whispering. “No.”

“I know.” His bottom lip hides a sympathetic wobble as he cradles your head, pulling you towards him. “I’m so sorry.”

It was at the moment when the fog cleared and you finally realised that you had in fact just lost your brother. Your other half. Sobbing into the Tangerine’s chest as he embraced you tighter, wrapping his arms around you as if his only goal was to shield and protect you.

“He didn’t want to do this job in the first place.” You wail into his shirt, sniffling as you pull away. “It’s all my fault… if I didn’t push him to say yes, he wouldn’t be dead. If I had just—“

Tangerine sadly shakes his head, his eyes darting across your saddened face. “No. Don’t say that.”

“It should’ve been me.” You whisper, wiping your snotty nose on the back of your hand. “… should’ve been me.”

He cups your face, clutching your cheeks for you to meet his eye-line. “Please don’t say that.” His words were stern yet tender.

“Come on love, we gotta get you off.” Lemon quietly adds, checking the time on his watch.

“I can’t leave him here.” Lacing your hand into your brother’s, holding him like you couldn’t let go.

“I know, I know.” Tangerine nods slowly, looking over your doleful face. “Lem’s arranging a pick up in Nagoya, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah sweet, we got some guys that are gonna pick us up.”

“I’m gonna— we’re gonna look after you, alright? It’s all sorted.”

“What about Spade? I can’t leave him.”

“Love, it’s sorted. We’ve got a plane arranged. Right?” Looking back at his brother to confirm. “Yeah, they’re gonna take us to the plane base, and then we see how it goes from there, alright?”

Turning around you avert your attention back to your brother's lifeless body, stroking his face. Mumbling. “Okay.”

hii, I won’t be doing a part 2 to this :( I wanted to keep it so the ending was how you wanted it to be. either reader joins the twins and they become a group of three, or the reader leaves the job entirely and moves abroad. I wanted it to be an up-in-the-air ending, hope that’s okay:)

——————

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x you #bullet train tangerine #tangerine and lemon #tangerine bullet train #tangerine fanfiction #lemon and tangerine #tangerine angst #tangerine imagine #tangerine blurb #tangerine comfort #tangerine x y/n

[lokifromvalhalla]

MASTERLIST

╔═════*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═════╗

⟐VIKINGS

IVAR THE BONELESS

⟐ I'm here for you | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Angst Words: ± 1 800 Everyone can feel the weight of the last events on their shoulders. Mainly Ivar, but he won't be able to handle it if (y/n)'s also angry at him.

⟐ A poisoned mind | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff Words: ± 2 000 (Y/n) can't help but to wonder whether Ivar really trusts them, what they don't know it's that everything is just a matter of insecurity.

⟐ I miss you (1/2) | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff / Light angst Words: ± 4 400 You had always been Ivar's right hand, but something happened, so now you are in the hands of Prince Oleg. Oleg, however, brings you a little gift after one of his trips.

⟐ I miss you (2/2) | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff / Light angst Words: ± 3 000 "Elhaz wasn’t my name, in the first place. It was for me what ‘Boneless’ is for Ivar, a title, one that was given to me by Ivar since, in his words, I’m his protection, the one who makes everything feel sacred, the safety. His safety. Eventually, it was all that really mattered, and turned into what some people call me. Does he remember it?"

⟐ Clean your mind | Ivar The Boneless x Male Reader | Ivar The Boneless x amab Reader

Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 3 100 Kind of content: Fingering / Anal sex / Some praising You help Ivar clean his mind and let go of all the stress that bothers him lately.

⟐ Be patient | Ivar The Boneless x Male Reader | Ivar The Boneless x amab Reader

Genre: Smut Mordern! AU Words: ± 3 100 Kind of content: Toys / Anal sex / Edging Ivar needs to be taught a lesson.

⟐ Time and humility | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff Words: ± 1 600 A curse leaded to Ivar being turned into a half-cat person, which he doesn't really knows how to deal with nor does his partner, but they figure it out despite how stubborn Ivar can be.

⟐ What's the fun in that? | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Light angst Words: ± 3 800 Ivar is captured by Oleg. (Y/n), the Rus army commander, is both interested and interesting.

⟐ A nice punishment | Ivar The Boneless x [gender neutral] Reader

Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 2 100 Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play Playing with his chest does get Ivar to shut up for a little. It feels way better than it should.

╚═════*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═════╝

You may find some of my works in AO3 with light alterations since I post there using an OC instead of reader. Except for that, my works aren't published anywhere else nor here under a different user. Let me know if you see something off.

#vikings #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #masterlist #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok #imagine #oneshot #smut

[novankenn]

"Jaune Gets A Gun AU - Day 3" First Rule of SAW : You don't talk about Saw...

Inspired by @howlingday's RU-JA-GUN-CON

The girls and any bystanders that hadn't fled watched in stunned silence, some vomiting at the bloody gore fest happening before them. Some who try and be poetic or artistic about the actions being performed by the four chainsaw wielding figures... but those people are sick in the head. The zombies had no chance. The quartet crashed into the fornt ranks and started tearing them apart... literally.

It was just after lunchtime when the slaughter ended. The quartet turned from the piles of offal and limbs and made their way back towards the entrance of the convention centre where they had met up just hours before.

Of course, they were ALL covered head to foot in gore, viscera and blood. They group stopped at the doors and with every one watching they performed a four way fist bump.

Jaune: So did IV send you?

Ash: I was here with the S-Mart Booth.

Doom-Guy: *Grunt

Juliet: Of course.

Jaune: Well, I appreciate it, guys. This would have been a tough one on my own.

Doom-Guy: *Grunt

Juliet: Doomy is right. Once a SAW, always a SAW. We've got your back just like you have ours, sweet-cheeks.

Jaune: Well thanks again guys. I've got to check on my friends.

Ash: Why you at a gun-con anyway, J?

Jaune: My friends convinced me to get a ranged option. You guys have any suggestions I should consider?

Doom-Guy: *Grunt

Ash: Doomy is right. Shotgun, go with a shotgun. Like one of ours.

Jaune: I'll look into it. Take care guys.

Juliet walks up, gives Jaune a peck on his blood coated cheek, while Doom-Guy gives him another first bump. Ash pats him on the shoulder as the pair watch Juliet and Doom-Guy step through a portal.

Ash: Well, I've got to get back to my booth. Drop by if you get a chance.

Jaune: I might do that.

Ash walks off, and Jaune turns his attention to his friends. All of them still in a state of shock over what just happened, and if they were honest everyone one of their hearts, even Emerald's was beating a little faster on how brutal and heroic Jaune had looked as he was eviscerating zombies.

Intercom-Voice: (Feed back) Jaune.

Pyrrha: Who is that?

Jaune: Don't worry about it. Just a friend. (Looks up towards the ceiling) What is it IV?

IV: Clean up is done. You know what to do.

Jaune: Do I have to?

IV: DO you want to be on Late Night Talk Shows explaining what just happened and why you did it while wearing a maid's outfit?

Jaune: Not particularly.

Ruby: Jaune?

Jaune: Just a sec, Ruby. (Looks up at the ceiling) How big?

IV: Worldwide. Think you can handle it?

Tiny Tina: Jaune?

Jaune: Bear with me, okay. (Turns his attention back to the ceiling) Is everything set?

IV: We're all set.

Jaune: Okay. (He returns his attention to his friends and gives them a warm smile, that was oddly cute, considering he was caked head to toe in gore.) Just keep your eyes on me for a second, okay?

Jinx: Jaune, is going on? What is SAW?

Jaune: (Raising Mysteltain over his head) I'll answer ALL your questions in a second. Okay?

Pyrrha/Ruby/Tiny Tina/ Emerald/Jinx: Okay.

Everyone blinked a few times, and looked about themselves as if a little confused. Even though, the girls all felt a small speck of jealousy against cheerleaders for some reason.

Jaune: Wow, time flies, huh, guys. I think we should get some lunch. What do you say?

#jaune gets a gun au #rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #pyrrha nikos #emerald sustrai #jinx #tiny tina #arkos #lancaster #topaz #ballistarc #time bomb

[iam93percentstardust]

This Life is Sweeter Than Fiction: Debut

The start of an age! I'm so excited to get to share this new verse with you! I've been working on this pop star Tony AU for almost a year, and with the Latin American leg of the tour starting today, I thought it was finally time to share it with you 💚💚💚 (updates weekly)

Beautiful Eyes

They already think he’s crazy for moving out all this way with just his guitar and demo CD, told him that everyone moves out to Nashville thinking they’re gonna get discovered, just wait and see, so who is he to think he’s better than the rest of them? There are four other people just in his grade who are trying to get picked up by a label. Tony’s dreams aren’t special. And he gets that, really he does, but he is special. How many of those kids are writing their own songs? How many of them can play four instruments? How many of them have gigs every single week? He’s special, he’s different, and he’s good. It’s not crazy to think that someone will notice that about him, is it?

A Place in This World

Tony sits down at the table, uncaps the pen, and takes a look at the contract. The places where he’s supposed to sign are tabulated, so he can easily find them throughout the contract, but he’s read it so many times over the last few weeks that he can recite the entire thing practically by heart. He finds the first spot where he’s supposed to put his signature, takes a deep breath—no backing out now, he’s actually going to do this—and signs.

The Outside

“Tony, come and meet your band!” Stane calls jovially from where he’s standing by the steps to one of the Sakura Street World Tour buses. Holy shit, Tony’s tour bus. Or, well, not just his, he still has to share it with some of his band, but it’s a whole lot more than he thought he’d ever get just six months ago. Stane is standing with a group of people, all adults, and Tony has the sudden realization that that’s his band. If he’s lucky, he’ll be working with these people for a longtime (if he’s really lucky, it might even be the rest of his life).

Stay Beautiful

“Ru, look, you are really someone, just ask anyone. You’re beautiful, every little piece of you, just absolutely incredible. And you’re so talented and charismatic. I love that you take pictures at every one of your stops and put them up above you bunk, I love that you know everything about your band members, I love that you scheduled a stop on this tour just so that your drummer could have that destination wedding she wanted. And you know, my mom used to tell me this thing back when I was younger and wondering if I was ever going to find everything I was looking for.” “What?” Rumiko asks, wiping her nose on the napkin again. “Stay beautiful,” Tony says.

Should've Said No

Dating Rumiko is like dating no one else that Tony has ever been with. When she first talks about him in an interview she’s giving to Vanity Fair, telling the interviewer what a lovely person he is and how grateful she is to have gotten to know him, it sets him to blushing deep enough that Jarvis comments his hair will turn red if he stays like that. That night, when he sneaks into Rumiko’s hotel room, he’s almost—not quite, but almost—tempted to let her take things further, but something stops him. Looking back on it years later, he’ll think it’s a good thing that that something had stopped him.

Picture to Burn

“Obie won’t approve it" Tony says. "It’s in my contract. I’m not supposed to perform any of my own songs on this tour other than what he’s approved. Besides, don’t you think people will get upset that I’m calling them out? I don’t want to get labeled as some hysterical omega bitch.” Natasha looks at him and says, “Let them call you a hysterical omega bitch. They did shitty things, and they’ll keep doing them if someone doesn’t stop them. Don’t you think they should get called out for it?”

#alle writes #verse: this life is sweeter than fiction #long post

[marvelmusing]

Darklina Masterlist

Last Updated: 12/05/2024

My Masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The Three of Us • Part 2 • Part 3

You’ve managed to locate the mythical Morozova’s stag and have arrived at the Little Palace to share the news. You’re eager to meet the infamous Black General, and to hopefully see your childhood friend Alina.

New Position

A Modern AU. Mr Morozov is notoriously particular regarding his employees. As his newest assistant, your final test is to gain the approval of his wife.

The Rest is History • Part 2 [18+]

After unexpectedly bumping into your old History professor, he asks you to spend the night with him to escape your roommate and her boyfriend. And who are you to turn down such an offer?

Starting Over

One of your colleagues, Mal, brings the head of the Morozov family in for questioning - something you had discouraged him from doing for his own sake.

Spin The Bottle

During a night of drinks at Nikolai’s house, Genya makes the suggestion of playing spin the bottle. There are two particular people in the group that you hope your spin will land on.

Glitter & Gold [18+]

High Society Modern AU. Zoya finally convinces you to join her friends for drinks, but you know that she’s not-so-subtly trying to introduce you to Aleksander and Alina.

Q&A

After filming a historical romance alongside Aleksander and Alina, the three of you are put together for the majority of your interviews during the press tour.

Total Eclipse

Lord Morozova returns to his summer residence earlier than usual - accompanied by his new wife.

Starving, Darling [18+]

Alina invites you over to try some enchanted treats with her. The effects are much stronger than you anticipated, meaning that when her partner Aleksander returns home he finds the two of you in his bed. A sight that he very much wants to be involved with.

Ignite [18+] (dark fic)

Aleksander and Alina return home from a date to find you on their couch, almost completely spaced out as your heat begins. But you’re on suppressants - aren’t you?

Wedding Present [18+]

As Aleksander’s best friend, you’re an integral part of his wedding to Alina, especially when she decides you’re going to be her wedding present to him.

Sweet Treat [18+] • Prequel [18+]

King Aleksander and Queen Alina of the Fae kingdom of Ravka have always had a soft spot for you after they found you lost in the woods with little knowledge of the Fae or their rules. From then onwards they have looked after you, welcoming you into their castle and, after some time, into their bed.

Making A Splash [18+]

Aleksander and Alina are well known as the most powerful Grisha, mermaid-like creatures with extraordinary powers. When you’re hired by the man who has captured them, you do everything you can to help them return to the sea.

Game of Survival

Inspired by the Hunger Games. As the only joint victors of the Grisha Games, Aleksander and Alina are your designated mentors - the people who will house you in the capital and help train your power as a star summoner.

Someone Special [18+] (dark fic)

After becoming lost in the forest, you begin to lose hope for your survival. Then you wake in a warm house with two beautiful people doting on you.

A Fresh Start [18+]

Part of the Someone Special AU. Settling into life as a vampire isn’t what you expected, but Aleksander and Alina are more than happy to guide you.

Soulmate Comfort

Aleksander and Alina give you the comfort only your soulmates can provide.

At Your Altar [18+]

As the high priestess of the temple of Sankt Aleksander and Sankta Alina, you are the perfect choice when they decide to have a child.

Hate Loving You [18+] • Drabble [18+]

Working for Aleksander and Alina Morozova drives you to insanity and beyond. No one has ever made you feel so frustrated, embarrassed, and unbelievably aroused. Officially you’re their personal driver, but you know deep down that you’re actually just their favourite plaything.

Set In Stone [18+] • Part Two [18+]

Sankta Alina and the Darkling rule over those who live in the hidden realm of magic. Alina herself is particularly fond of turning those who trespass onto their kingdom into statues. Legend says they like to toy with their victims, and if they think you’re pretty enough they just might keep you forever.

Starlight, Star Bright [18+]

Star Summoner!Reader. The arrival of the sun summoner - your darling Alina - changes everything for you and Aleksander.

#darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone au

[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 14

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, Fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: violence, fire, gore

Chapter word count: 3.8k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Deathless

After everything he'd heard of Zhara's brother, after witnessing every act of cruelty Illarion was capable of, Paul was expecting a villain, someone who exuded power and wickedness. What he saw instead was a boy, looking no older than sixteen, of the same tall, slender build as Zhara, with the same red hair, though it was a shade darker, almost auburn, and the same freckles. There was even something of Zhara's impishness in the turn of his mouth as well. Only the eyes were different. When Paul looked into those eyes, his heart sank, and all his doubt about the boy's true nature vanished. They were the same glittering green as the medallions, hard and cold. Zhara's eyes were always human even when she was transformed into a bird. This boy's eyes didn't even seem alive; the only hint of life in them was a glare of hate.

But Paul didn't spend too long contemplating those lifeless eyes. His attention was riveted on a large mesh cage at the window. Zhara was fluttering in it, while the setting sun cast its light on her plumage, turning her into a fireball, just like the first time Paul had seen her in the forest of Tsarskoye Selo.

Underneath the cage, laid out on the table, were an array of strange items and instruments—a gold chest, a hare, a duck, and an egg. The animals each had an angry red slash on its chest. It seemed Illarion had everything he needed for the Deathless ritual, except for the most important one—the needle containing his death. This the boy was twirling between his thin fingers while he leaned casually against the throne, watching Paul with a curious, almost fascinated expression. Under the disconcerting gaze of those flat green eyes, Paul became too aware that he was no knight in shining armor, with his torn and bloody shirt and mismatched weapons. He could only hope that appearances may be misleading.

"For a mere mortal from Rus', he did quite well, did he not, Zharissa?" Illarion said conversationally. "Much better than those bumbling bogatyrs of yours. I wonder what other surprise he may have in store."

To Paul's shock, Zhara spoke. "Paul," she said. "You shouldn't be here. Go! Save yourself!" He stared at the bird. It was Zhara's voice, desperate and full of tears, coming out of her beak. What trick was this?

"Oh, now she talks," Illarion said, sounding annoyed. "I gave you the power of speech so we could have a chat and make the waiting a little less tedious, and you refused to talk to me, but the moment he showed up, you started chattering away?"

"If you don't want to wait until I'm human again to perform the ritual," Zhara said, "why not undo the curse and just kill me now?"

"I would if I could!" Illarion shouted. "Do you think I want to wait? But they are very imprecise, curses. I never meant to curse you, you know. This avian form greatly diminishes your power. If you would only agree to wear that medallion—"

Why, he doesn't know how to undo the curse, Paul realized. He's nothing but a boy, in over his head. He wondered if Zhara had realized this as well and was stalling for time.

"You didn't have to control me," Zhara said to Illarion, spreading her wings in an imploring gesture. "I would've gladly let you rule—"

"What, so you could go behind my back and gather the support of the boyars?" Illarion hissed, baring his teeth in anger. "So you could play the victim and undermine my rule? I know you too well, sister."

They sounded like siblings bickering over a game rather than discussing matters of life and death. Paul took a tentative step forward, reaching for the skull in his knapsack, the only weapon that might stand a chance against Illarion's magic. "Let her go," he said. At least his voice was steady.

"Or what?" Illarion snickered. "Are you going to throw that skull at me?"

In reply, Paul raised the skull. Fire shot out of its eye socket. He meant to aim it at Illarion, but the flame hit a corner of the velvet curtain instead, setting it ablaze. Illarion shrugged, looking almost bored. "I never like those curtains anyway," he said. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"How's this for better?" Paul aimed the skull at Illarion's robe. There was a flash, and the robe caught fire. Illarion didn't even flinch. He beat out the fire with his bare hand, as casually as blowing out a candle. Refusing to be intimidated, Paul advanced upon the boy, the skull held in front of him like a musket. He shot another bolt of fire; Illarion dodged it, and the flame hit the corner of the throne in a shower of sparks.

"Enough of this," Illarion growled. He pinned the needle to the shoulder of his robe before slipping something out of his belt and throwing it at Paul.

Belatedly, Paul saw that it was a medallion.

He threw up his arms, but the medallion hit his chest, burned through his shirt like a cattle brand, and adhered itself to his skin.

The pain was unbearable. He'd thought being pinned under an iron-and-copper dragon was bad, but it was nothing compared to this, this red-hot agony, this hellfire that seared his very bone, that reached all the way to his heart, that spread through his blood. Was this how it had been for Afron when he foolishly cast in his lot with Illarion? Was this how it had been for poor Alyosha Popovich?

Paul collapsed, clutching at his chest. The last thing he heard was Zhara's panicked voice, calling out his name, as the white-and-gold room around him faded to black.

***

When the darkness cleared from his eyes, Paul found himself on a bed, a large bed, with the silk cover of a pillow under his cheek. There were blue velvet drapes with gold fringes around the bed. The room around him was blue and gold as well, and strangely familiar. It took him a moment to realize this was his bed. His room, the one at the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg. An untrimmed candle still flickered on the bedside table, but the morning sun was pouring in through the curtains being swept back by a servant. The door opened, and his mother walked in.

"What, still abed at this hour?" she said, though she didn't sound quite as harsh as usual. "And on such a big day?"

Paul sat up, blinking stupidly. His hand flew up to his chest. The pain was gone. Had there been a pain there at all, or had he dreamed it?

"A big day?" he repeated.

"Your coronation, of course!" his mother said, laughing and clapping her hands together.

Paul stared at her, too stunned to speak. His mother seemed almost giddy, quite unlike herself. "Are you—are you abdicating?" finally he asked.

"That was always the plan, wasn't it?" She briskly walked over to an array of frock coats and robes being laid out by the servants, pointing to several. "That one, that one... no, that one. Yes." Turning back to Paul, she said, "It was agreed that I would only rule until you reached your majority. Now that you have, it is time for me to step down."

Something was not right, but Paul couldn't quite put his finger on it. He felt dazed, half-asleep, as though he'd just come out of a nightmare and was not quite awake. Yet he vaguely remembered that it was true, the council had finally convinced his mother to pass the throne to him. He let himself be dragged out of bed, washed and dressed in full ceremonial regalia, and before he knew it, he was standing in the cathedral in front of a crowd, while priests chanted over him and the crown, the crown he'd seen on his mother's head hundreds of times and coveted each time he saw it, glittered on a velvet cushion before him.

Could it be? Could it be that he had finally achieved what he desired the most?

He looked at the crowd, at their adoring faces all turned toward him. Yes, this was what he wanted, to be seen and respected and appreciated. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else he wanted, something missing. He noticed a young lady standing by his mother, doll-like with her porcelain face and tiny rosebud mouth, eyes cast down demurely. Paul didn't remember having seen her before.

"Panin," he said to his old governor, who was standing by his side, "who is that young woman?"

"Why, that is your betrothed, Your Excellency."

Startled, Paul wracked his brain. Again, he had some vague recollection of having chosen one of the princesses from all the miniatures given to him, but try as he might, he couldn't remember her name. Why couldn't he remember her name? It would be terribly embarrassing to ask Panin her name, wouldn't it?

The young lady lifted her eyes to look at him, and Paul suddenly found himself expecting her eyes to be a warm, golden color, honey held up to sunlight. How strange. Her eyes were blue, perfectly pretty, but for some reason, he kept thinking of those amber eyes. Where had he seen such eyes?

And then, to his shock, the young lady's face began to change. Her eyes turned golden just as he'd imagined; her powdered wigs became a long, red braid, and freckles splattered across her skin. If he looked closely, he could see seven freckles curve around the corner of her mouth... he remembered kissing them... he remembered running his hand over that hair, having those eyes look into his in the moonlight...

"Your Excellency," Panin said in his ears, but it wasn't Panin's voice, it was a strange voice, oily and cold, a voice he'd heard once before in a dark forest. "This is what you want, isn't it?" the voice continued. "You can have all that, and more. As long as you obey me."

Paul turned to his old governor in horror. Panin was looking at him with eyes the color of malachite.

"If you want her," Panin said, still in that spine-chilling voice, "well, I cannot give you the real thing, you understand, but I can give you something very similar." And he nodded at the young lady who looked like someone Paul both did and didn't know.

There was a weight on his chest. He couldn't breathe.

The young lady opened her mouth. She was standing not five feet from him, yet her voice seemed to be coming to him from far, far away. "Fight it, Paul!" she was screaming. He knew that voice. He knew her.

The crowd around him faded, leaving only her eyes and her voice. Holding on to them as an anchor, he clasped a hand to the base of his throat. His fingers closed around a hard disc, something like a pendant or a medallion that was stuck to his skin. It burned. He pulled it out, screaming as it took some of his skin and flesh along with it, and flung it as far away as he could.

The cathedral vanished. Paul found himself on the floor of the throne room, the marble cool under his cheek. The burning sensation on his chest had gone, but the pain lingered, weakening his limbs. Lifting his head with difficulty, he saw that Illarion stood over him, nostrils flared in fury, while the cage stood empty, with a gaping hole in its side—fragments of the medallion scattered nearby told Paul that he must have hit the cage with the medallion by accident and broken it open. Where was Zhara?

The thought of Zhara finally cleared the cloud in his head. She had saved him. She had pulled him out of that—that vision or hallucination or whatever it was that Illarion had used to tempt him, and brought him back to reality.

This, this was real. Not his mother's palace, not his coronation, not his nameless betrothed. This was real. Zhara was real. And he must save her.

And there she was, a spot of red circling close to the ceiling, out of Illarion's reach. Illarion was flinging his hand at her with his fingers outstretched, launching all sorts of things at her—lightning bolts, stones, even sharp icicles—anything he could conjure out of thin air, it seemed. Strike after magical strike hit the ceiling and the walls, and bits of marble rained down. Zhara flew on agile wings, narrowly avoiding the missiles and the debris that flew off the ceiling and the walls. But she could not hold out for long, not when the sun was getting lower and lower by the minute. Why wasn't she fighting back? Her power may be weaker, but she could still throw a few fireballs, surely? Or did she hesitate because she still thought of this crazed boy as her little brother? Well, if she refused to fight him, then Paul would.

As Illarion twisted and turned like he was battling a particularly pesky fly, Paul struggled to his feet and pulled out his broken sword, holding it ready. At one point, Illarion turned fully toward Paul, arms wide open as he tried to hit Zhara with a whirlwind. This was Paul's chance. He ran at the boy at full tilt and stabbed the sword through Illarion's chest.

Staggering back, Illarion stared at the sword's handle sticking out of his chest in astonishment.

Then he started to laugh.

"You fool!" he said, still laughing. He pulled the sword out and threw it to the floor. There wasn't even any blood on it. If it wasn't for the torn patch on his robe, nobody would know he'd been stabbed.

He truly was Deathless.

With a flick of his hand, Illarion threw an invisible force at Paul, sending him sprawling.

Paul's eyes caught a glint on Illarion's robe. It was the needle, reflecting the red rays of the sun.

The needle! Of course! To defeat Koschei, one had to destroy the needle. Paul picked himself up on trembling limbs and aimed the skull at it. If he could at least damage it somehow, that would distract Illarion long enough to give them a chance...

Illarion spun around. Another unseen hand slammed into Paul. This time the force knocked the air out of his lungs and hurled him across the room. The back of his head hit the wall. Stars burst in front of his eyes. Golden ropes sprung out of the floor like tree roots, binding his wrists and ankles. He strained against them, but they only tightened, threatening to slice off his hands and foot. The skull clattered away, rolling to the foot of the throne. Illarion's boot came down, smashing it into bits.

Paul was still staring at the smashed skull, his last hope, when Illarion came to stand in front of him.

"Stupid mortal!" he spat at Paul. "How dare you defy me! Now you shall pay!"

He pointed his hand at Paul and curled his fingers into a fist. Paul gasped. It felt as though there was a claw inside him, squeezing his heart, cutting off the flow of blood in his veins. Incredible, indescribable pain radiated from his heart to his ribs, his neck, his arms and shoulders, and the rest of his body, choking him, paralyzing him. He could feel his life force draining away, but he was helpless to stop it.

From the ceiling, Zhara came barreling down like a golden arrow. She dashed past Illarion, who made a grab for her but missed her by just a hair's breadth. The pressure around Paul's heart loosened, and he collapsed to the floor, coughing. Zhara shot back to the ceiling, and Illarion clasped a hand to his shoulder, the first hint of fear creeping to his face—the needle was gone.

"Please, Lariosha, stop this," Zhara said, the needle tightly grasped between her talons.

"Do not call me that!"

"The magic is killing you! If you go through with the ritual, you'll be dead! Baba Yaga told me—the same thing happened to Koschei—"

So Baba Yaga had told Zhara the truth after all. Was that why she wasn't fighting Illarion? Was she still trying to save him?

"See, that's where you're wrong, sister," Illarion said, though he indeed did not look well. The boy's face was pale, as pale as the marble walls around them, his hands shook, and he was breathing hard, spittle spraying from his lips. Only his green eyes burned feverishly. "Koschei was an old fool. He put his death into an ordinary needle. But I am cleverer than that. This needle will be indestructible once I temper it in your fire. Don't try anything stupid. Whatever you do to it will only make it stronger."

"I'm sorry," Zhara said. "I can't let you go through with this." Turning to Paul, she said, "Hold on to Baba Yaga's handkerchief. It will protect you."

"Protect me—from what?" Paul gasped. He still hadn't quite regained his breath after Illarion's attack.

"From me."

With that, she pointed the needle at herself and plunged it into her chest.

"No!" Paul and Illarion both screamed.

Blood spurted from Zhara's breast, dying her red feathers a darker shade. Blood dripped to the floor below her, and wherever the blood fell, fire sprang up and spread around the room as though the floor was made of the oldest, driest wood and not cold, hard marble. Flames surrounded Zhara, turning her whole body into a fireball, burning the needle white-hot. Flames swallowed up the table with its instruments of magic. Flames licked around Paul, but he strained his bound hand to find Baba Yaga's handkerchief in his knapsack, and the fire never touched him, though he felt its heat on his skin.

"You think you can stop me by killing yourself?!" Illarion hissed. "No, no, dear sister, you will live—at least long enough to serve me!"

He raised his hand. Zhara was pulled toward him on an invisible string, her wings flailing uselessly against his force.

"I have taken Koschei's powers," Illarion said, "and now I'm going to take yours!"

Just as he had done to Paul, Illarion curled his fingers into a fist. Paul knew now that the gesture meant Illarion was draining his victim's life force. And there was Zhara's life force—flames rolled along the string of air between them, flowing from sister into brother, until they were connected by a rope of fire. Paul could only watch, powerless, while Zhara's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she made a strangled sound. Her plumage started losing its color and luster. The paler she got, the stronger Illarion seemed to be—his face was no longer deathly white, his hair became redder than the fire itself, and his eyes burned more brightly.

The fire was almost gone from around Zhara's body now, her feathers a dim, dark shade of purplish brown, like old blood. She was limp, only held up in midair by the force of Illarion's magic. The needle was lifted from her chest by that same force and flew into Illarion's hand. He caught it, laughing, paying no heed to the incandescent metal.

"Yes, yes!" he shouted. "Why didn't I think to do this sooner? This is so much better! Now I can temper the needle with my own fire! I shall be truly invinci—"

He didn't finish the sentence. The smug smile vanished from his face. The fire continued to blaze around his body as it blazed around the room, sucking out all the air, turning the whole place into an inferno. Despite the protection of Baba Yaga's handkerchief, Paul could still feel the heat blasting him in the face and scorching his lungs.

"No, this is enough—" Illarion was saying. "The tempering is done—I want it to stop—Zhara! How do I get the fire to stop? Help! Help me, please! "

Zhara, who was suspended lifeless in the air with her head lolling back and her wings drooping, gave no answer.

"It burns—oh gods, it burns!" Illarion moaned. He tried to throw the needle away, but it had melted into a puddle of liquid metal in his palm. Still the fire raged on. "You witch!" Illarion screamed at Zhara, his face twisted with rage. "You've tricked me! But you won't get away with it! If I die, you shall die too!"

He clenched his fist again, and some of the fire flowed back to Zhara, searing her feathers. She remained unconscious. Soon, the fire would consume both brother and sister...

Paul took his hand out of the knapsack and dropped the handkerchief to the floor. The moment it left his fingers, flames roared up around him. He angled his body toward it, letting the fire burn the ropes around his wrists and ankles to ashes, biting back a scream as it scorched his skin. As soon as he was free of the ropes, he got to his feet.

Illarion saw the handkerchief, and his eyes went wide. They both dove for it. Paul—perhaps by sheer luck—was a fraction of a second quicker. He scooped the handkerchief up, jumped at Zhara, and snatched her out of the air, wrapping her in the square of fabric.

"No!!!" Illarion, now nothing more than a pillar of fire with a vaguely human shape in its middle, charged at Paul. Paul leaped aside, and Illarion crashed through the window, plummeting down the sheer cliff, burning like a falling star.

A long while later, a blast from the sea below told Paul that the boy had met his end.

The flames rose all the way to the ceiling in one last furious eruption, and then, with a rushing sound of air being sucked inward, they vanished, leaving behind only a few scorched patches and an acrid smell.

Paul looked down, not quite believing what he was seeing. Zhara was lying there, in his arms—Zhara, as he'd seen her that first night in the woods of Lukomorye, freckles standing out on her skin, her hair covering her body like a cape, her eyes closed, the wound on her chest still bleeding. Outside the broken window, the sun was taking its plunge into the sea, turning the water into molten gold for a moment before winking out, and darkness descended on everything.

Chapter 15

Taglist: @ali-r3n

#prince paul #tsarevich paul #catherine the great #prince paul fic #prince paul x ofc #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic

[inkybirdy]

of course I'd be happy to tag you, @takemetotheastral ! and I'm happy to offer some basic notes on the wind waker au, currently titled "a different tune" on Ao3!

in brief, the wind waker au is one in which aryll is the one who goes on a quest to save her sibling, and gets embroiled in a high-seas fantastical adventure instead of link. meanwhile, ganondorf and tetra are both rival pirate captains fighting to settle a centuries-long dispute over territory, magic, and the power to shape the future of the world. link wants a nap.

a few more specific character notes below!

Aryll is very recently 12 years old, an auspicious age for those of Outset Island! She’s now old enough to train in the island’s traditional sword fighting style, as well as take on new responsibilities to protect her home and assist her brother with his own tasks. It’s an exciting time! And also bitter - while it’s nice, growing up, to have new opportunities and a broader sense of agency, Aryll is already starting to miss being able to blindly trust that her brother would take care of everything that needs doing. She wants to help, wants to prove herself, but it’s all a bit daunting, isn’t it? She has her brother, though, in the end. As long as they’re together, as long as he’s around to help steer her in the right direction, she has faith everything will turn out alright.

Link is in his early 20s and doing his best. After the death of his grandmother when he was in his later teens, Link was not only left with the responsibility of raising Aryll but also acting in his grandmother’s place as caretaker for the island’s fairy fountain and various spirits, shrines, and artifacts. Among these are a couple of the island’s treasures - a small golden pendant that nobody is allowed to pawn, and the Wind Waker, which has proven fairly useful to have on-hand to shoo dangerous storms away from the island. Of course Link takes his duties seriously, but he tends to the island’s caretaking in the same way that he tends to any other household chore. Really, his focus and any energy he’s had to spare has been put toward his efforts to raise his sister. He won’t say he’s good at it - he knows his love of naps and idleness has turned into longstanding fatigue, and his charming snark has turned caustic - but he’s determined to do all he can to make sure Aryll is cared for and given the best opportunity to grow into a well-adjusted person.

Ganondorf - otherwise known as Captain Dragmire, or simply Ganon - is already one of the most notorious and influential pirates on the Great Sea, despite only being in his mid-20s. He’s an expert treasure-hunter, an experienced scallywag, a deadly swordsman and gunslinger, and - according to some - a truly impressive knack for magic. His crew, based in the Forsaken Fortress, is devotedly loyal, approaching their goals and the goals of their captain with dogged and dangerous enthusiasm. Heir to what is understood as an ancient and potentially world-shaking power, Ganon pursues glory and destiny in all things. When not fulfilling his role as the charismatic and deadly pirate captain, though, Ganon is bright, inquisitive, easily flustered, and impulsive - which, often, sends him tripping into variously unfortunate and terribly embarrassing situations. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s totally got this, it’s fine. Crew and reputation established, skills honed, magic and minions at his beck and call, Ganon is ready for his greatest conquest yet - Finally claiming his ancestral power and proving himself the rightful steward of a long-buried legacy, and destroying the last vestiges of the chaotic forces that once cursed and drowned the world.

Tetra - also known as Captain Nohansen, Captain Tetra, or The Great Sea’s Terror - is a match made in the deepest parts of hell for Ganon in how their journeys to greatness have paralleled. Also in her mid-20s, Tetra is a prodigious mage, a lethal swordsman and gunslinger, a savvy explorer and trader of treasures, and a ruthless force to be reckoned with. While her crew has no proper base aside from their common haunt, Windfall Island, they’ve become a staple in stories and nightmares across the Great Sea. Her crew follows her without question, with religious fervor and unending loyalty that disavows even the most minor slight against her - they’re her best friends, bonded in spilled blood and drunken oaths over years of companionship. Tetra’s charisma strays from Ganon’s more smooth and charmingly cocky persona into sheer command and brutal competence. The instant Captain Tetra walks into a room, it is her domain - she knows exactly what she wants, and it is highly unlikely even gods could help those that dare stand in her way. Sarcastic, capable, confident, she is the picture of a legendary pirate: Whether that’s good news or not depends on the person standing across from her. However, all that confidence and support tends toward bullheadedness. When given the choice between arguing a point with Tetra or throwing one’s self into a nearby whirlpool, it may be easier to fight the tumultuous ocean current. Again similarly to Ganon, Tetra is the heir of what is said to be a power capable of bending the future of the world to one’s will. She aims to outclass Ganon and claim her ancestral right once and for all, to reveal the truth of a centuries-long struggle and possibly even draw the drowned earth once again up from the seas.

altogether, they’re fun. I’m having fun. And I hope everybody sticking around to follow the story does too!

#loz au #legend of zelda #ww au #ganlink #wind waker #tetra #link #ganondorf #aryll #zelda #myart #my writing #asks #a different tune #i'm also still chipping away at the next crown of calamity chapter but hoo boy ww is a brain break from trying to Plot ahah

[leiflitter]

Hi! Hope your car is ok . Meanwhile...

Any YAH Felix sprog (Harry, Ru, Ellie) facts? Favorite vs hated things, things they do with Felix vs Oliver, how they are when they grow up, what they think about Ollie's family and Ollie himself, relationship/dynamic with each other, their grandparents,

Venetia, Farleigh and Lu (just anything you can imagine). Marcus facts would also be very welcome.

Would you ever continue any of your other fics or do you consider them a one-and-done because you've already said everything you had to say about that AU?

Any other Cattonquick plot bunnies?

If you read Saltburn fics, any favorites?

Favorite vs dreaded part of the writing process?

Parts you're especially happy with in your Saltburn fics? (a scene, foreshadowing, characterization, dialog, Ocs...)

Alright let's whack a cut in- gonna do these out of order for speed purposes! There's a lot here so I didn't answer everything, but there should be a lot to sink your teeth into!

Extending my oneshots- there may be scope for more on top of em when I am finished with YAH but I will probably leave them be. I'm a firm believer in that Felix and Oliver probably wouldn't work out if they got together younger, but it's still an interesting dynamic to play around with. If I was going to continue one, it'd probably be Hang Me Out To Dry, though.

Other fics- I actually haven't read any others, mostly because I am on that #grindset for YAH 😅 it's something I'm looking forward to when it's finished, being able to rummage about and find authors to hype up!

Best/worst bits of the writing process- worst is finding the starting sentence for the chapter. Once that pops into my head, it's fine. Also, when I'm trying to shove them towards a plot point but they won't get off of each other. Best is hittin' that flow state, brain go brrrrr and words happen. I honestly don't really edit that much, although I am slowly going back through and making lil tweaks, but even that is kinda satisfying.

My fave bits of YAH are:

Any of Felix's dumb lil one-liners, but especially, "runny eggs at mach five."

The Christmas Party.

Felix and Farleigh's heart to heart.

The bathroom chat with Jeff.

The Lucia foreshadowing for sure- that was so satisfying to see people going "OMG I SEE IT" in the comments.

I also really like my lil supporting cast, I hope they feel real and nuanced!

So gonna just do a big ol ramble on the Cattonlets, because I love these kids, but it may not cover everything because even I don't know all of it yet 😅

All of the kids go to/went to boarding school, but only because Lucia and Felix agreed that they need the best education possible. They're home as much as possible, but that means Saltburn is often pretty empty in term-time. The schools themselves are "sister schools" so although they aren't coed, there's plenty of chances to see each other in the week.

They have very different relationships with Felix and Lucia. Felix kinda threw himself into "parenting" in part as a rebellion- if I'm gonna be a dad, I'm going to be a DAD. They had nannies, but mostly to be backup instead of the primary caretakers. Lucia, on the other hand, was still a teenager when Harry was born (she was on her gap year when she and Felix met) and was so desperate to be accepted that she went hard into The Done Thing. This slowly turned her into a slightly distant figure- the kids love her, but they cherish the times when her mask slips and she can actually have fun with them. They'd all known that their parents are together out of duty, but things only started to get really unbearable when Aunty V got sick, because then Felix was stressed and as such couldn't just shrug off Lucia's annoyance any more.

They're all very different, but they're a tight-knit little bunch. Harry's the princess, Ru's the nerd and Ellie's the brains. They're all pretty popular, but they're not as cliquey as Felix was- in part because Felix wanted them Properly Socialised from a young age (hence getting The Help to bring their kids over for Saltburn Summers). He also really wanted to make sure they were more emotionally mature than he was. Felix saw how his "accident" hurt his parents, and once Harry was born he had a bit of a realisation that he really had not been prepared for anything bad to ever happen to him.

With Oliver, the main thing is that he makes Felix far happier than they've seen him in ages. There was absolutely a Cattonlet group chat about it. Their general consensus was that they probably wouldn't mind if Oliver came around more, but that dad probably wouldn't ever realise what was going on. Harry absolutely had a very small, situational, only-available-option crush on Oliver that started when they picked him up, but that absolutely vanished the night of the Alexander Dinner. She kept it to herself because although it wasn't really fair on mum, all three of the kids missed their actual, fun dad. She assumed that if she got them together, they'd keep it secret like everyone else's parents, and it'd be a win-win.

There's an initial shock, obviously, and Ellie takes it hardest because she still really hoped that her parents loved each other. She's the slowest to warm up to Oliver properly afterwards, but Harry and Ru help because Harry has Felix's five-second emotional memory and Ru... well. Ru feels absolutely betrayed by Lucia, which means he's suddenly Oliver's staunchest supporter. There will be more about this later, once YAH is done and I'm into less established territory.

Oliver as a step-parent is actually a far better foil to Felix than Lucia, primarily because while Lu was concerned with appearances, Oliver comes from the world of Consequences and will give better reasons than "it would look bad". Lucia is also a better parent after the split, because she can actually take time to find herself as an adult and take time doing stuff she likes. They actually end up being sort-of friends, although Lucia actually realises she likes Oliver better than Felix after a little while of coparenting.

Oliver's parents are a little intimidated by the Cattonlets- and remain intimidated by Harry- but they are actual, well-versed grandparents. They're initially nervous, because these kids are rich-rich, but that actually means that the little treats and outings they do are novelty. "What do you mean, you've never been to Knowsley Safari?" "You kids fancy mcdonalds?" "Off to a car boot sale- come off it, you must know what a car boot sale is..."

They do need to find out about Farleigh, but we will tackle that later.

Marcus. I love, love, love Marcus and he will be showing up in later stuff but...

He is the stability that Farleigh has always needed. Think Patrick from Schitt's Creek in private, he's a wry, solid figure that Farleigh can rage at or break down on or just be near. He exudes calm like one of those plugin things people use to chill their cats out.

In public, he is just there for The Farleigh Show. People think he's an accessory, but he's choosing to be one. He and Farleigh are actually intensely private about their actual relationship, in part because Farleigh's need to be detached manifests far more around others. They are non-monogamous, but they're highly, highly communicative about it.

He's a solid country boy from a small town in Ohio. He has one older brother, and was the only out gay guy in his school.

His family are, honestly, amazing. Farleigh loves them so hard, because they gave him the whole hearted love the Cattons couldn't. He buys Marcus's mom expensive, tacky handbags that she LOVES. His dad doesn't speak much, if at all, but he has a faded bumper sticker on his truck that says I LOVE MY GAY SON. PROBLEM? and a less faded one that says I LOVE MY GAY SON AND HIS PARTNER. PROBLEM? that Marcus had made specially for Christmas one year.

Marcus' father has absolutely knocked out teeth at a PTA meeting. The same with Marcus's big brother. For both Marcus' dad and his brother... think Wayne from Letterkenny.

You will not have a problem with Marcus, because then your bigger problem will be a broken jaw. If you have a problem with Marcus and Farleigh, especially if your problem is because Farleigh ain't white, you're gonna need to set up a gofundme because you sure don't have medical insurance. They do, because Marcus' lovely partner made sure of that.

Why are Marcus' parents so chill? Simple, really. Marcus had an uncle that he never met. Nobody knew that Stephen was queer that way until he... passed away. The letters he left behind broke his little brother's heart. When Marcus told his parents that he liked boys, there was no question about accepting him wholeheartedly. They'd already known anyway, ever since he was a little boy.

#leiflitter answers #you're almost home #YAH!posting

[fairlyabookie]

An Idol's Thanks

Author's note: It's been a hot minute- Have some Pomily + Idol AU

content warning: reader is a makeup artist working for the group | platonic

"Turn this way, Rook."

Gentle hands cup the dancer’s chin, angling his face to [Reader]’s steady gaze. The makeup artist works their magic, applying colors onto Rook’s visage with swift sweeps of brushes and products. Despite being in this position many times, he couldn’t forget how much the brushes seem to tickle his cheeks.

“Rook, please relax your face. We don’t want our makeup artists to mess up on their work.”

A chiding voice on his left prompts, the idol happily obliging the command.

“Why, Vil, it’s our anniversary concert. Nothing can go wrong!”

The leader scoffs at Rook’s comment, evidently vexed. Despite being in the industry for so long, Rook still maintained a carefree and frivolous attitude, warmly welcoming newcomers and seniors with a bright smile. For weeks, Vil asked him to tone it down - be stricter as a senior for the younger while maintaining a civil relationship with their seniors. Guess old habits die hard.. Vil lets a sigh, sparing another glance at Rook before eyeing Epel.

“Epel, get ready. [Reader] will be with you shortly.”

“Yes, Vil.”

The visual of the group answers meekly. [Reader], on the other hand, gives their creation one last inspection before smiling.

“All done, Rook. Vil, are you satisfied with your outfit of choice?”

“Yes, it’s perfect, [Reader]. Rook looks impeccable with your handiwork.”

“Thank you, Vil.”

The makeup artist flusters, moving onto to the next idol. Epel stiffens, his eyes focused on the reflection before him as [Reader] begins their magic.

”It’s not like you compliment me about my work, Vil. I was expecting more of a critique today.”

“I’m in a good mood today, [Reader]. Today, I’d like to thank you for everything you’ve done in presenting us in the most beautiful way you’d thought imaginable. It’s thanks to your hard work that we are seen as the flawless idols of Pomefiore.”

[Reader] had to stifle a fluster.

“You flatter me too much, Vil. I just did my job.”

“Don’t say that, [Reader].”

Epel softly whispers.

“Your artistry in makeup is one to commend, dear [Reader]. Vil couldn’t have chosen anyone else besides you.”

[Reader] pouts, the flattery overloading their mind.

“Epel, look at me.”

They prompt. Cerulean eyes, pure and beautiful, look up to the makeup artist. No matter how many times they had looked into the star’s eyes, there was something about him that took their breath away. If the makeup artist had to be honest, Epel didn’t need any makeup - his cherubic features and flawless eyes were enough to make one stop in their tracks as an idol. Yet, Vil insisted on putting some makeup on Epel to enhance these features.

“May I ask of you to close your eyes for me?”

Epel obediently obliges, closing his eyes. [Reader] begins their work, Epel’s features their canvas with a plethora of colors. Vil and Rook, on the other hand, watch on with intrigue.

“Rook, how are you with your solo activities?”

“I’ve been receiving quite the offers for commercial shoots with colognes and modeling opportunities recently. Fufu, I’m glad I’ve been working out~”

“Indeed, many of your fans have been buying quite a number of magazines with you in it. They simply can’t get enough.”

Rook snickers for a moment longer, savoring his limelight until he ventures for Vil.

“I’ve heard you’ve been cast into a musical, Ru de Poison. With LeBlanche, no less. Tell me, how are rehearsals so far?”

The leader tries his hardest not to scowl, retaining some of his graceful demeanor before explaining.

“Well, it would appear that I’ve been typecast again. You know how it is - me being a villain while LeBlanche is the hero. I’m used to it at this point.”

Rook shakes his head in disappointment.

“Non, mon cherie, you mustn’t be so downcast. Your fans and everyone here is supporting you. We’ve seen how hard you work for the roles you auditioned for, and we’ll keep on supporting you. Vil, you are the hero in our eyes. Please, you’ve worked hard to be the best in the industry. A flawless diamond..”

As if magic, Rook’s words wash over Vil, words that heal the wounds in his ego. Years of training, singing, and directing the group as the main vocalist and leader were arduous, to say the least, on top of other solo projects Vil participated in. He hesitated, struggling to find the right words for gratitude for Rook’s support.

“Rook is right, Vil. Your dramas have garnered lots of attention from new fans and even families from how impeccable your acting is to your visuals, and when you’d speak during interviews too, new fans come flocking to you admiring your work ethic.”

Vil’s heart eased by [Reader]’s words.

“Thank you, [Reader].”

He spares a glimpse to Epel, whose visage radiated with beauty from their handiwork.

“As for Epel, does he have any solo activities going on?”

“He is still a budding seed. With the debut, he has been taking lessons on dance, vocals, and even acting - the three most important assets to have in the entertainment industry.”

"Keep up the hard work, Epel."

[Reader] whispers encouragement to the rookie idol, who sheepishly smiles. Albeit the visual of the group, [Reader] couldn't believe he was the same age as they were, a few months shy into their adult years. Whatever drove him to the idol scene, [Reader] wanted to know; a question they'd rather not ask in the face of a freshly debuted idol, let alone a very cute one.

“Open your eyes for me, please.”

[Reader] commands. He obliges, warm eyeshadow complementing his blue eyes.

"What do you think, Vil?"

With a quick glance over at Epel, a satisfied smile hovers over Vil's lips.

"Beautiful."

"Pomefiore, you're up in five minutes!"

[Reader] gives the idol group one last inspection, checking for any adjustments to make for their makeup and colluding with the stylist for any additional details on their outfits. Yet, seeing the idols in their most beautiful forms, gods crafted by a team of artists, brought a smile to their lips. Vil, the center of attention and the leader of the group, was the spitting image of a queen; Rook, a powerful dance and rapper, the embodiment of a Greek god's masculine perfection with his broad stature and enigmatic aura; and finally, Epel, undoubtedly the youngest and the refreshing visual out of the group. All of them stood proudly in their grandiose outfits, confidence beaming in their smiles. Just a moment ago, [Reader] remembered working with them on their first day, each of them new to the industry with wide-eyed wonder and aspirations for the idol industry. Now, the idols before them matured, and blossomed even, into picturesque idols befitting a stage.

"Congrats on your first year anniversary."

[Reader] grins.

"Thank you for your hard work, [Reader]."

The three of them chorus, taking the illustrious palace of twinkling stars.

#twst x reader #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #twst epel #twst vil #twst rook #twisted wonderland rook #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland epel #handle with care

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Future Scene in Brewing Romance and Dissent

This scene is set in the future of Brewing Romance and Dissent, where I turned pre-canon into a coffeeshop AU. AKA While recovering from a spear to the eye, Iorveth opens a coffee shop in the Royal Quarter in Vizima. For Intelligence Purposes, mind you. (Flirting with the human regular is for intelligence purposes too.)

--

When Roche entered Vrihedd Bean-gade after pulling an all-nighter tracking down some information for the King, he was very much not expecting to walk into a veritable crowd of people. Blinking stupidly as he stood in the door, Roche slowly comprehended that apparently the people of Vizima had come to appreciate elven coffee, because the shop was downright bursting with customers.

Someone ran into him with a grumble, and he quickly shuffled out of the way, wondering if it was worth waiting. On the one hand, he should probably sleep instead of drinking coffee, and waiting in line was the last thing he wanted to do. On the other hand, he did want to see Iorveth and his coffee stops were the one time he got to do so. But with as busy as it was, Iorveth for sure wouldn’t have time to talk.

While he was still struck with indecision, Iorveth spotted him as the elf went about preparing and handing out drinks. When their eyes met, Iorveth jerked his head to the side, summoning Roche over to Iorveth’s corner of the counter. He went, biting his lip against an eager smile, already feeling more awake.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Iorveth moved around as he spoke, preparing another drink. “You look like you’re about to drop.” He turned away to call a customer’s name, and Roche stepped aside so that they could retrieve their drink.

“Worked all night.”

Iorveth grimaced. “Why aren’t you sleeping right now, then? Surely you’re not going back to work.”

“No,” Roche shook his head, “I’ve got the rest of the day off.”

“Good,” Iorveth said, setting water to boil for another drink. “But that brings us back to ‘why aren’t you sleeping right now’?”

“Ah,” he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “I – uh – I wanted to see you.” The way Iorveth bit his lip against a smile made Roche feel less awkward, and he smiled back, clearing his throat. “But, you’re busy, so–”

“Here,” Iorveth said, holding out a steaming cup. Roche just blinked at it and Iorveth rolled his eye. “It’s tea. It’ll help you sleep. Because you need to go fucking sleep.”

“Oh.” Feeling slightly adrift at the deviation in their usual routine, Roche took the drink, wrapping his fingers around the clay to warm them. Then he raised it to his mouth for a sip and closed his eyes as he let out a soft hum.

“What’s in it?” He asked, starting to hit the stage of tired where everything went a little bit hazy. 

“Chamomile, lavender, a few other herbs. You don’t really care,” Iorveth pointed out. “Go sleep, Vernon. You can come visit me after you’ve slept at least 8 hours.”

Roche frowned. “Won’t your shift be over?”

“Technically, I’m the owner and my shift is whenever I want.” 

“Oh.”

“Go home and go to sleep, Vernon,” Iorveth said, lips twitching upwards. “I’ll see you later.”

“I – yeah. Later,” Roche nodded, not entirely certain what had just happened. But his feet were eager to follow Iorveth’s orders and he found himself standing in front of his door, despite having no memory of the walk over. All he really remembered was the warm chamomile steam curling up from his cup and the floral lavender taste of the tea Iorveth had made for him.

Grinning stupidly, he stumbled inside and made his way to the bedroom, finishing off his tea and faceplanting into his bed, falling asleep within moments.

--

As Vernon wandered out of the shop, Iorveth caught Maeral’s raised eyebrow and flushed, clearing his throat and preparing the next drink. Fortunately, they were too busy for her to say anything, but Maeral wasn’t one to forget things. Especially not things that could prove embarrassing for Iorveth.

It took several hours for the rush to die down, and by the time the shop was finally empty, all customers seen to, they were both exhausted, leaning back against the counter and taking time to just breathe.

Which was, of course, when Maeral turned to him with a gleam in her eyes. “Soooo,” she drawled.

“So?”

“So,” she enunciated pointedly, “that’s the dh’oine Cedric mentioned, huh?”

Iorveth swallowed. “No idea. Why don’t you ask Cedric?”

Maeral scoffed, throwing a coffee filter at him. It fluttered through the air and landed on his head. 

“Vernon, I think Cedric said his name was?” she tapped her finger against her lip. “I thought Cedric was exaggerating when he claimed to see you flirting, but uh – that was totally flirting. Nice going, Boss.”

Iorveth flushed, and compensated for it with anger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. Soooo, what’s your plan for when he shows up later? After all, you won’t be working,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Iorveth shook his head forcefully enough to send his braids flying through the air.

“You make it sound like a date. It’s just a fucking meeting.”

“Yes, indeed, a fucking meeting,” Maeral laughed and Iorveth genuinely hadn’t thought about Vernon in that context before, he hadn’t. 

But now that Maeral mentioned it… he thought about the way Vernon’s hands were so warm when they brushed against his as he passed Vernon a drink. Was all of Vernon that hot? What would that feel like pressed against him? He licked his lips, swallowing and shaking his head slightly. It was best not to think of such things, especially not around Maeral. Besides, it wasn’t as if it would ever actually happen. Even if he was curious, Vernon was a dh’oine.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #wip wednesday

[grim-kazoo-player]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

I write very rarely, and it's always so exciting when someone asks about it 👉 👈 I apologize if this reply was rather long. I don't have a lot of free time right now. And I was surprised that I was asked a question by several people. Thank you, too @osiris-iii-bc and @lilspacewolfie 💜

I seem to have a bad tendency to start writing big things and they end up unfinished for a long time. Because I get depressed and lose motivation in the process, I feel like people don't like what I write. I'll come back to these works later. Because I love big stories so much and I feel very cramped in small things.

Neon Butterflies (c3, ru) (only in Russian atm, I'll translate it into EN as soon as it is finished) It's a story about finding what you can find after losing everything, I guess. At the same time, I would like to show how a person's worldview can change when he or she finds something to fight for. But, it's also a beautiful (I hope) love story and a bit of stunningly amazing Japan.

Tree of The Sleep (ru) A bit of a Lovecraftian picture of how I see the Sleep deity from Sleep Token. It's a very strange text about how there is something in the world beyond our comprehension and we can see it in a dream.

Among the Shadows (en) A sad story about what Terzo sees after his death. He doesn't like it, so he hides in the shadows and watches Copia. Sad story, because Terzo starts to understand and starts to feel sorry for Copia. But there's nothing he can do about it. Sounds like the beginning of an interesting story, though.

On the Brink of an Abyss (ru) I once had an idea to write an anthology of short stories based on this AU. I have a bunch of drafts for other stories lying around and a friend of mine had already written so many ghoul stories from this AU. I've only written one. I don't like how it turned out in the end but as a beginning and a starter for the main story it could work. It's a minor story about Terzo feeling like he's being restricted in his freedom of action. He doesn't like it, he wants to fight, but he's trapped like a bird in a golden cage. And what happens next needs to be written.

Whiskey & Coffee (c3, ru) This is a sweet story of Terzo and Copia getting to know each other. I like the image of Copia here - sweet, responsible, and very serious. But Terzo is unlucky in love, and one day after going to a bar, he sees an unfamiliar number in his phone. This time he will be lucky!

Actually, there are a few more texts I'd like to talk about, but some of them have yet to be finished 😅

#ask box #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction

[danmeiljie]

Advance Bravely Vampire AU Part 6!

Read part 5 here to catch up!

2,712 words, Teen rating

Yuan Zong slammed open the door to the apartment he shared with Yuan Ru in downtown Beijing.

"Yuan Ru!"

His voice sounded like a drill sergeant barking an order: stern and commanding, and not to be disobeyed.

He moved with quick purpose through the rooms until he found his younger sister in her room, dressed down to rest during the day, brushing her hair lazily. Dawn was nearly approaching and they both felt the beginnings of the heavy fatigue that would always creep up on them and persist during daylight hours.

"Hmm?" She sounded bored, and did not turn around, favoring instead to glance at him through the reflection in her vanity mirror.

Yuan Zong's expression was dangerous as he stood at her doorway, reluctant to fully enter her private room.

"What did you say to him? What did you do?!" Yuan Zong demanded.

"He wanted to know more about you, so I told him the truth, honest." she replied calmly, not wishing to pretend she didn't know he was asking about Xia Yao. When Yuan Zong didn't say anything but only glared at her, she put her hairbrush down and twisted in her chair.

"Xia Yao reached out to me, and wanted to meet. What's the harm in that? Why are you so controlling of him?"

Yuan Zong's jaw clenched, and his words came out biting, "You don't understand what you've done. I can clean up whatever mess you make from night to night but Xia Yao needs to be handled with care! He needs time to understand what we are and how he feels. Now he says he wants nothing to do with 'you people'. What did you tell him?"

Yuan Ru's eyes narrowed, "No, Gege, you are the one who does not understand what you've done." The way she called him big brother felt demeaning instead of respectful and Yuan Zong had to hold onto the doorframe to prevent himself from flying across the room. The wooden molding creaked a little underneath his strong grip.

Yuan Ru half-smiled at him, cocking her head to the side, "You really don't know, do you? Oh how deliciously tragic."

"Explain."

"I almost could not believe my luck, and your bad luck, when you asked me to meet with him. Yuan Zong, I know you've had your eye on him for a while, but trust me when I tell you to let him go. He is not for you."

Yuan Zong forced his mind to calm down and think for a moment.

"Then who is he for?" he asked slowly.

Yuan Ru looked almost apologetic, "Ge, you should think of it as a good thing. At least he will still be part of our little family."

"Who!"

"He will be given to me when the time is right." Yuan Ru turned back around and resumed brushing her long silky hair, "I am just waiting to hear from him."

Yuan Zong had purposefully avoided the political machinations of the world his sister brought him into, having little patience for the doublespeak and ruthless ways. His still heart leapt to life with fear and he even felt his blood stirring in his atrophied stomach.

"Please, Meimei, just speak clearly." Yuan Zong's voice was strained, and it surprised Yuan Ru. She had never seen her brother so pained before. Not even when their parents had died so long ago. He had always, always maintained composure.

"Oh my God, you really care for him." Yuan Ru turned back around, staring at her brother's pained expression. She finally let her face fall into a look that Yuan Zong knew from their old life together: pouty sad little sister.

"Xia Yao is going to be given to me to bring into the Big Family. My…" she actually took a breath before continuing. "My sire is an important leader. He is the Second Big Brother and has been watching Xia Yao closely for years. I honestly thought your interest in him would fade away, so I did not want to deny you your fun a little."

Everything in Yuan Zong's body and mind froze. Yuan Ru never speaks about her sire, or her turning. He was not going to interrupt while she was in the mood to share.

"Besides you are always so careful and never kill anyone so I didn't see the harm. I thought it would be good if you got to know your future brother-in-law!" Yuan Ru tried to smile. "Anyways, it's been decided and Mr. Xia will let me know when I can turn him. Probably soon."

Yuan Zong started,  "Mr. Xia?" His voice was cold.

"Yes," Yuan Ru's gaze turned distant and her tone reflective. "Xia Yao's father is my sire." She gave a little laugh.

"I doubt Yao'er even knows it."

…

Xia Yao sat in his car staring at the apartment building his father lived in Shanghai with tired eyes. He was exhausted, but not knowing where else to go, he decided staying with his Dad in a new city would give him enough time and distance from the Yuan siblings. After driving the rest of the night and all of the following day, he was almost seeing double. The sun was just starting to set when he parked his car.

Mr. Xia kept this apartment due to his frequent business trips, and it was easier to have his own place rather than go through the hassle of booking hotels every few months. His work often kept him away from his Beijing home where his wife and son lived full time.

Xia Yao got along well with his father, even if he did wish they could see each other a little more often. He wondered if Mr. Xia would be happy to see his son randomly turn up at his doorstep.

The doorman nodded politely and greeted him with crisp respect when Xia Yao showed him his official photo ID, and he let himself in, happy to find he remembered the correct electronic passcode for the front door to his father's highrise suite. The master bedroom door was locked, and Xia Yao wondered if his father slept during the day because he had more nighttime meetings with foreigners across the globe. He helped himself to a few meager snacks in the near-empty fridge and then collapsed onto the living room couch. Fatigue overwhelmed him, as the adrenaline rush from before had left him drained, and soon he was sleeping somewhat soundly.

"Son, Son, wake up!"

Xia Yao moaned and tried to push away the hand shaking his shoulder unsuccessfully. He opened his bleary eyes and squinted. Night had fallen and he wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. By the aching in his head, he suspected it was not enough.

"Yuan Zong…?" Xia Yao murmured, before rubbing his eyes and sitting up. Mr. Xia stiffened, and straightened quickly, staring sternly down at the young man on his couch.

"What?!" he asked sharply.

"Ba! Father!" Xia Yao woke up completely and shrunk instinctively into his shoulders beneath the glare of Mr. Xia, smiling sheepishly. "I was getting tired of Beijing and wanted to spend some time down here!"

"So you thought you'd leave your mother alone to play in Shanghai? I raised a more filial son than that." Mr. Xia's expression softened slightly as he took in the disheveled state of his son. "What happened to you? You look unnaturally pale."

Xia Yao blushed, almost as if to defy the accusation. "Well I left rather quickly. I am just tired from driving all day."

"Hmph. I see." Mr. Xia was not convinced, but he didn't press the matter. "Well order yourself something to eat, and don't go partying tonight. Give yourself time to rest a little."

Xia Yao nodded obediently. Mr. Xia bustled out of the room to finish collecting his things and he spoke from the entryway as he changed into his shoes.

"I have meetings all evening but I will be back later. Don't stay up too late."

"Ba, I know, I know." Xia Yao said with a wry smile that he hoped was disarming. Mr. Xia gave him a lingering look before exiting the apartment.

Xia Yao sagged with relief into the cushions and automatically checked his phone. He texted his mother to let her know where he was, and sent a few kissy-face emojis for good measure. Her reply was a bit scathing but mostly she was relieved he was alright. Then she followed up with a text asking him to buy her something nice if he went shopping. Xia Yao sighed and promised he would.

Yuan Zong had not texted or called, having honored Xia Yao's angry request. It made Xia Yao pout a little. Was he so easy to let go like that? He didn't want to admit it, but he missed Yuan Zong's calm yet intense attention. He had been a constant presence in Xia Yao's life for weeks and to have him suddenly absent was startling.

As Xia Yao let the warm water of the guest bathroom shower sluice down his toned back, he finally let his muscles relax. He hadn't been aware of how much tension he was holding until the heat began to melt them beneath his skin. He frowned as he turned his handsome face into the stream and closed his eyes. He thought of his father's comment about looking pale. Maybe he had been letting Yuan Zong drink too often or too much lately. He supposed he was lucky he didn't leave any marks on his flawless skin.

Xia Yao's body reacted subtly as a memory of Yuan Zong's lips at his throat played across his mind. His 'little devil' twitched and before he was fully aware, Xia Yao had taken himself in his hand, moving up and down gently. The water flowed over his slender fingers making the heat on his skin even more enticing. He didn't need to justify pleasuring himself necessarily, but he gave himself permission nonetheless, feeling as though he deserved some kind of release after the harrowing night he had so recently.

He forced himself to imagine a beautiful woman on her knees before him, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes, her lips caressing his length. Yet somehow it almost halted the growing hardness in his hand. Xia Yao frowned again, throwing his head back and gasping, using both hands now to focus his well practiced movements that he knew would get him closer to finishing. His lips parted a little as he let his consciousness fall into himself, the steam from the hot water enveloping him.

The image of the woman shimmered and the feel of Yuan Zong's hands on his hips brushed her away. Xia Yao tried to mentally resist thoughts of Yuan Zong running his hands over his chest and his mouth crushing against his own, but the deep jolt of arousal from within his belly urged him to continue. Panting breathlessly, Xia Yao worked between his legs and he had to lean back against the shower wall when he vividly remembered Yuan Zong's teeth at his throat. He let out a tight moan as he got close to the edge, and Yuan Zong's deep voice calling his name in an echo through his mind pushed him over. Xia Yao cried out as he came, his orgasm feeling like a giant relief and a wash of delicious pleasure all throughout his flushed body.

As he let the water clean off the sweat and other fluid from his skin, he caught his breath and let his heartbeat come back to normal.

"Dammit!" he swore aloud. The shame that rose in his cheeks seemed to combat the heat of the shower. He was annoyed that it was Yuan Zong who got him so aroused. Maybe it was a side-effect of being fed upon and with time it would go away? Xia Yao wasn't sure if he wanted it to go away.

"Yuan Zong…" he whispered, resting his head against the shower wall, and he stayed like that until the water lost its warmth and the chilling stream stirred him out of the bathroom.

…

Mr. Xia gave a hard stare at the partition between him and his driver, ensuring its complete closure before dialing a number on his phone and bringing it to his ear. The streetlights of the main road passed over him in quick succession, illuminating his stern features and leaving them in shadow back and forth.

"A-Ru. What is going on up there?" he demanded after a moment.

Yuan Ru clutched her phone tightly from the comfort of her bedroom, nearly dropping the dress she held in her other hand. She had been picking out clothes inside her expansive walk-in closet when her phone had buzzed noisily on the ottoman in the middle of the opulent space.

"Xia Laoshi, I promise my brother and I have been keeping a close watch on Yao'er! He seemed reluctant at first, but is rather eager and accepting of our lifestyle. Whenever you tell me, I am ready to bring him into the family!" she said brightly.

"Obviously not close enough! Do not lie to me, girl. Can you explain then why he showed up here in my apartment tonight?" Mr. Xia caught Yuan Ru in her bluffing.

Swallowing, Yuan Ru set the dress down and ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "Oh, well he must have needed a little vacation! I know his mother has been suspicious of all the time he has been spending outside the home with us, so to alleviate her worries he–"

"Enough! Do not waste my time with your excuses. I had thought you were ready for a proper childe of your own, but I can see you need more training!"

Yuan Ru winced, and sat down heavily on the ottoman, crushing the dress. "Yuan Zong is my childe, Xia Laoshi, is he not?"

"He is not your childe if he is not part of the Big Family. While I was willing to overlook your indiscretion with turning your older brother, I will not have you mishandling my own son! And to think I had thought you a proper daughter-in-law!"

"Xia Laoshi!" Yuan Ru whined, "I will make the best daughter-in-law! I promise! Xia Yao is the perfect son and he will learn everything he needs from me. I am so grateful you picked me for him. So grateful." She tried to make sure her voice did not crack as she pleaded to her sire.

Mr. Xia brows furrowed deeply and he considered his childe's words, remembering how he had picked her from a young age to be a companion for his adopted son. Ridding the Yuan siblings of their parents had been easy enough, and it made manipulating their circumstances to ensure they gained the correct assets and education more controllable. He never revealed this to Yuan Ru beyond ensuring her with loving tones how she had been specially chosen. Her face had been thick enough to greedily believe his praises, but she was beautiful and alluring in her own way, and Mr. Xia indulged her mortal need to bring her brother into the night life as her companion.

Yuan Zong luckily proved to not be a liability and Mr. Xia has a suspicion it was through his efforts A-Ru stayed out of trouble in Beijing.

Yuan Ru tried not to fidget nervously as she waited for Mr. Xia to speak.

"I don't want his mother finding out about us. Since he is already down here with me, you can follow and turn him here. But do it in a hotel room under a false name. I will leave an envelope with the details at the main desk in my building."

"Thank you, Xia Laoshi, thank you!" Relief washed over Yuan Ru. "My Gege and I will be there tomorrow night!"

"No, Yuan Zong will stay in Beijing. This is a private family matter." Mr. Xia commanded, leaving no room for argument.

"I understand," Yuan Ru said, nodding at the phone. Mr. Xia ended the call without saying good bye and Yuan Ru smiled, jumping up and dancing about her closet.

"Tomorrow he's mine!" she exclaimed.

#advance bravely... fanfic?! #advance bravely #my bad gifs #my writing #yuan zong #xia yao #vampires #go bravely into the night

[novankenn]

I'd love to see the gun-con post where the quartet get approached by a republic commando, who after seeing them talk to the imperial army presents them with... A dc-17m blaster rifle with ALL the attachments.

I want to say off the bat... I am sorry it took so long for me to complete your ask. To anyone else who has sent me an ask/suggestion, I still have it, I don't delete them... I just haven't had the inspiration to work with it.

/======/

"Jaune Gets A Gun AU - Day 3" Republic Commandos (Star Wars) w/ Special Guest, the Master Chief!

Inspired by @howlingday's RU-JA-GUN-CON

Republic Commando #1: You there.

Everyone: Who?

RC#1: The blond one.

Jaune: The name is Jaune Arc. Can I help you?

RC#2: We saw you speaking to those Imperial Scum, the other day. We just want to confirm that you are not considering joining their ranks.

All the Girls: HE IS NOT!

RC#1: Good. You made the smart choice. Now we are also aware you are looking for a ranged option for your kit, may we introduce you to...

Ruby/Tiny Tina: A DC-17M blaster rifle?

RC#3: Correct. The best modular weapon system ever created. Totally customizable for whatever your mission needs are.

John-117: You don't say.

Jaune: That's pretty... neat, actually.

RC#1: It is a complete weapons kit, featuring a Blaster Rifle. It is a rapid fire weapon perfect for close to mid-range engagements.

Ruby: With a fully charged power clip, it has sixty shots.

RC#3: Then we have the sniper configuration. It features a twin zoom electromagnetic scope. Perfect for mid to long-range engagements.

Tiny Tina: 10x and 20x, though you only get five shots with per power pack.

RC#2: And there is my personal favourite... the Anti-Armour Grenade Launcher. While the grenades have to be one at a time, the explosives detonate on impact and have a large enough blast radius that they can be used to break enemy formations.

RC#1: So what do you think? Interested?

Jaune: I am, but would I carry all the attachments? I mean, that would be a fair bit of extra baggage for me to lug around.

RC#1: Ideally, you would customize it to the mission specs prior to disembarking.

Jaune: (Turning to his friends) What do you...

Imperial Officer: Republic Scum! This world is under Imperial jurisdiction!

EVERYONE: WHAT!?!?!?

IO: You heard me! This world is under the protection of the Galactic Empire!

John-117: (Looks at Cortana) Is that true?

Cortana: No, it is not. That statement is completely false.

RC#1: Imperial Dogs!

Master Chief read the room in seconds, and was in motion before the first blaster bolts could even fly. In an impressive feat of strength, he scooped Jaune, Ruby, Pyrrha, Tiny Tina, Jinx and Emerald up and out of the line of fire.

John-117: Stay down!

Blaster bolts flew about wildly, missing pretty much everything and everyone. In fact, the only thing that was suffering any serious damage were the walls, as the bolts from both sides scored and blackened them.

Jaune: There are really not hitting much for the amount of shooting they are doing.

Ruby: I don't understand. Both these groups are powerhouses...

Emerald: I think it's the helmets.

Pyrrha: Didn't the last group of the white armoured guys complain about the helmets?

Tiny Tina: They did.

A loud crack of metal hitting tiles echoed about, followed by both the Republic and the Imperial Forces suddenly being suspended in midair.

Ozpin: Gentleman...

ISTs/RCs: Crap-baskets

Ruby: Swear Jar!

Ozpin: It has come to my attention that someone has been making false statements about whose jurisdiction Remnant falls under. I was coming to correct the issue and what do I find? A full-blown firefight with in a civilian attended event.

ISTs/RCs: They started it!

Ozpin: Not to mention, if it had not been for the Master Chief, my students would have been in serious danger...

ISTs/RCs: Um... we're sorry?

Ozpin: That may be the case, however I think reparations should be made. Glynda?

Glynda: Detention with Professor Port. One week.

ISTs/RCs: ...

Ozpin: They are all yours, Professor Goodwitch.

Everyone watched wide-eyed and with a slight shiver as Professor Goodwitch turned on her heels and marched off, the combined members of the Republic Commandos and Imperial Storm Troopers floating behind her.

Ozpin: I would like to thank you for taking care of my students.

John-117: My pleasure. Seem like good kids.

Ozpin: For the most part, they are. Is there anything I can do to repay you for your actions?

John-117: I'm looking for someone. Goes by the name of Banshee-44, he might be selling counterfeit USMC weapons.

Ozpin: I see. That is a serious accusation, which I find slightly disturbing as Mr Banshee-44 has always been an upstanding vendor for these events.

Joh-117: That's why this is an investigation.

Ozpin: Understood. I believe his booth was moved towards the east entrance. If I remember correctly, he's situated next to the Nerf stall.

Jaune: There are Nerf guns at a firearms' convention? How does that work?

Ozpin: Mr Arc, you can not have a respectable Gun Convention without Nerf products being represented. You know what they say...

Tiny Tina/Ruby/Jinx: It's NERF or NOTHING!

Ozpin: Quite right. I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your day.

John-117: Well, it has been a pleasure, but we have work to do.

Everyone waved to Cortana and Master Chief as they walked away.

Pyrrha: He was nice...

Ruby: And tall!

Pyrrha: Yes, that too.

Emerald: So, where to now? Do we go for lunch or check out some more booths?

Jinx: OH! OH! OH! OH! Over there!

Tiny Tina: DEFINITELY over there!

(So I know this ask, and even the continuation of this series/AU has been on a long hiatus... my apologies, I had gotten caught up in some other works. I'm a little unsure about this offering, and I do hope you all enjoy it. Thank you to @sergeant-jaune for the ask, and I hope I did the ask justice.)

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #ruby rose #tiny tina #emerald sustrai #jinx #halo #master chief #Cortana #jaune gets a gun au #star wars #republic commando #storm troopers #reader ask