#Chapter I wont post on A03

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Thank You and Goodbye

Hello everyone, I suppose you have all noted that the Empyrean iris stories have finally ended. I sincerely hope that all of you enjoyed what I had to offer and that I helped to bring some enjoyment to your life. In return I thank you all for everything you have done for me, and thank you most for the people who interacted with the story with questions comments and likes. Some of you have private messaged me, and said the nicest things that have helped me to keep going through the years. I cannot say how much I appreciate you.

A few things before I leave, I am leaving the Empyrean Iris universe on this blog for anyone who wishes to read, start reading or keep reading. You are free to play with the Empyrean Iris universe all you wish, as well as with its characters and locations. As long as credit is left where credit is due.

I will not be writing for this series again, though I may post some art if the thought takes me. I will still have access to this blog to answer questions and interact, so PM me here if you want, I will most likely be available.

The past few years have made me a much better writer.The change in my skill from beginning to end is incredible, but one of my greatest regrets is I never got to show you all what I could really do. These short form stories, written early in the morning before school sometimes lacked the quality I know that I can produce, maybe not grammatically, but at the very least you all never got to see my true writing abilities at their full potential: writing abilities I gained thanks to this series and thanks to you.

So with that in mind I have made a decision. I want you all to see the fruits of my labor, and what this  series has done to its author (if you care to look, I wont force anyone :). But down below I will post chapter 1 of two independent side projects I have worked on during the time of this series. The first is a book I worked on sometime during the middle of the series, and that I finished more than a year ago which I plan on posting online to wattpad and A03 in the coming months, the second is the first chapter from my most recent project and which I hope to traditionally publish some day. I hope that at least one or two of you might read them and see the change in me that has resulted from this series

Chapter 1

Children of the Affliction

The Outbreak moved up the street in a wave of fetid flesh, their feet shuffling in an uncoordinated, stilted shamble as they dragged their diseased bodies  through the ankle-deep filth of Veerus city. 

         As they walked, they moaned softly, their rotting vocal cords shivering  with every breath they took.

         The outbreak was not a quiet thing, and Eli was thankful for that as he pressed his back against the desiccated crumbling wall of the rotting city, as desiccated as its occupants.

 He crouched low, but didn’t allow his hands to touch the ground and the filth that rested there. He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath before peering out from the crack in the wall. 

And so they continued on their shuffling, staggering way, their red decomposing flesh  peeling back from rotting bone. A tidal wave   of rancid air fogged up the lenses of his glasses with a stench  so vile he had to swallow to keep from gagging. It was the kind of smell that burrowed its way into your nose like hungry maggots,leaving a sour  penetrating taste behind on your tongue.

         Eli wiped his glasses silently with a hand, and immediately regretted his ability to see as he watched a pale worm wriggle its way from the rotting  folds of what had one been  a nose, only to twist wetly before turning back to slither between ragged, purulent lips..

         Eli turned away from the hole pressing his back against the wall and covering his nose and mouth with a hand. He forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply, an action which he immediately regretted as the filth rose up to seep into his nose and mouth.

         Their groaning grew distant, and a small voice hummed in his ear.

         “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of the Outbreak.”

         His mouth was watering, a sure sign he was about to throw up. He let the saliva drip from his mouth and onto the ground, where it couldn’t cause him to vomit. 

“Just because I’m not afraid of them doesn’t mean I want to give one a hug.”

         “And all of this isn’t fear?.”

         “This isn’t fear, this is nausea. Those things are disgusting. Why anyone would willingly serve Affliction is beyond me.” He looked down to where a large baleful eye peered out from under the flap of his satchel.

The Eye blinked wetly once and then twice before “The same could be said about people who willingly visit affliction.”

Eli sighed, “You of all people should know that our visit here is hardly willing.”

The eye rolled at him, “Still going on about your father are you.”

Eli’s shoulder’s stiffened slightly jaw tightening even as his fingers went white around the strap of his bag, “This isn’t just about that and you know it.” 

         “Your Hope,” the eye said, his voice a high pitched reedy quaver through the fog “Your  little obsession always seems to bring us to the most loathsome cesspits: hiding under rocks or  in the bowls of trees.”

         Eli adjusted his glasses, “This entire world is a Cesspit, Wink. and it isn’t hope it’s research. Hope is blind without action, research might just be able to help me before ....”  Eli trailed off then not entirely willing to voice the concerns that had become so pressing in the proceeding months.  Instead, adjusted the shoulder strap of his satchel and stepped down from the crumbling building and onto the street below. He tried not to think about how his feet squished through the filth or how his weight seemed to depress against the soil, as if he was walking across great slabs of meat.

         A pallid mist rose up around them, and he was thankful for the protective shroud he wore over his face. It didn’t keep out the smell, but he was at least relatively sure it would keep the Affliction at bay,

He stepped over a small creek of cloudy water, and tried not to think about the strange spongy chunks that bobbed just under the surface.

         Wetness squished under his feet as he walked, and he stopped, reaching into his bag for a pen and notebook.

         Wink moved to the side as he passed his hand in and then out, coming back with a faded leather-bound journal -- once his father’s journal now his, bound with something that might possibly have been human skin, though he did his absolute best not to think about that, and flipped open to an inner page, past pages and pages of spidery writing and jagged sketches until he found a fresh page. He allowed his hand to rest momentarily on the familiar course paper, taking comfort from the journal: an item that represented the only piece of his family he had left: his father’s research. 

         Wink stretched up from inside the bag, his long, gelatinous body elongating and stretching like a string of black slime , “What are you writing?”

         “Just a reminder to throw away these clothes when we get back.”

         “Afraid of getting sick are we?”

         Eli tapped his chin and passed the notebook back into his bag, “out of all the Dreads, Affliction is, admittedly, one of my least favorite.”

         “That implies you have a favorite?”

         “I think that is generally the whole point, don’t you think? Why else would anyone choose to Serve the Dreads? You have to pick a favorite .”

         Wink settled back into the bag, filling it’s contours like some sort of inky black puddle, “I feel like there is a distinct difference between having a favorite and having a, I dislike this thing the least.”

         “I thought semantics was my thing.

         Wink wiggled a little bit inside the bag, “Just getting back at you for all those times I had to listen to one of your pretentious lectures on the nature of fear.”

         Eli adjusted his bag one more time, “That is assuming you even listen to me, which we both know you don’t.”

         “No, no I don’t.”

         The two of them lapsed into morose silence as the outskirts of the city passed away, and the twisted trees of the nearby swampland faded into the backdrop of fog. Up ahead, looming in the half illuminated mist, he could see the outline of Veerus city, less like a city and more like a cancerous growth on the face of the world seeping corruption and disease into the brackish feted bog that surrounded it.

         He could see it now, canals of pollution leaking out from inside the city by way of giant corrugated pipes, which dumped cloudy water into the bog. The smell was indescribable, like a thousand rotting corpses. It came in gusts and waves steady one moment and then a sudden wall the next.

         His mouth began to water again, and he stopped in the street to bend over and gag.

         He wouldn’t allow himself to throw up, simply wanting the comfort and relief of expressing his disgust with this place. His hands tightened around the straps of his bag, the leather of the black gloves he wore creaking slightly as he moved up towards the looming shadow.

         Overhead a black bird croaked, and Eli traced its stilted path through the sky, watching as a feather drifted down from above.

         He was surprised the creature had enough feathers to fly.

         Approaching the gates of Veerus his eyes fell on a pack of mangy dogs --with rotting skin and eyes so encrusted with yellow discharge he wondered how they could even see. They were huddled by the roadside, surrounding something that lay unmoving on the ground before them, tearing at it with their rotten teeth.

         It looked like it had once been a cat.

         Or maybe a rat.

         He heard the rats in Veerus were almost as big as cats, but either way it didn’t matter. The thing was so diseased it had probably expired right there in the street so unrecognizable it didn’t matter what it HAD been once upon a time.

         He made sure to keep to the other side of the street, eying the mangy mongrels as they chewed on their meal, not relishing the idea of what a bite from one of those infected things might do to him.

         As he came upon the gate, he found himself held up at the back of a long line of people all crowding around the entrance, in a long line of hunched shoulders and ragged clothing. Looking at the mass of flesh before him, he found himself purposely distancing himself from the filth of bodies.

         By the looks of them, he could see that most were peasants from the outlying marshland. They had that look about them, with scaly red skin, and bare feet with yellowed nails overgrown such that they were twisting back upon themselves. He grimaced as he imagined how it must feel to walk these streets, the rot squishing up between their toes. Their hair was lank like swampy weed and hung about their shoulders like wet moss while their skin hung loose and baggy around their faces.

         Even despite all that, none of them were repulsive enough to be mistaken for one of the outbreak, or even one of the city dwellers, who were characteristically marred by leperous pockmarks and spongy patches of skin.        

Granted, the swamp peasants lived on the land the affliction held dominion over, and many of them served the being in some way or another, but none of them were directly subject to it, so they had a little more safety than did their city dwelling brethren 

         Unfortunately for them, that meant they were still subject to disease as a natural course of things, as evidenced by their jaundiced  skin. Just ahead of him, he saw an elderly  woman hunched over a bundle of rags. peering out from those rags was a face, a feverish red face swollen and puffy with dark blue bags encircling the eyes. 

         He doubted the child had long to live.

         Anyone who managed to grow up in a place like this and survive until adulthood was a miracle on their own.

         The gate approached now, and  just as the gate guards came within sight, the man before him collapsed suddenly convulsing in the filth of the street before going still. Barely anyone stopped to look. Eli barely flinched, watching as a group of leprous individuals hurried from an opening in the gate hauling a hand cart behind them.

         The body was lifted by liver spotted hands and tossed into the back of the cart before being dragged away,  to be tossed into one of the plague pits, the contents of which drained from those massive pipes and out of the city.

         As he waited for his turn at the gate, Eli reached into the bag and pulled out his notebook and pen scratching a quick sketch of the scene before him 

         The men standing at the main gate were less diseased than the others: the only suggestion of their sickness being the pallid nature of their skin, and the glossy sheen of clammy sweat that acted as a constant veneer over their bodies.

         He couldn’t tell if they were bald on purpose, or if the sickness  had taken their hair.

         “State your business.” One of them said, and Eli followed the man’s eyes as they ran up and down his body. Eli shrugged off the crawling sensation that ran a course over his spine as the man’s eyes paused to linger on the unblemished skin of his face….. Almost hungrily.

   “State your business,” The second man repeated, voice raising with impatience.

         Eli clenched one hand around the strap of his satchel, “I am here in the capacity of my work, as an information broker.” 

         One of the men snorted and hawked a thick filmy wad of phlegm onto the ground, “And what information do you have to broker?”

         Eli looked the man in the face, the corners of his mouth turned  slightly down, “What kind of information are you looking for. I have information on the safest trade routes, weather predictions, medicinal recipes-“

         He was cut off.

“Let us see your identification.”

Eli nodded, dropping a hand into his bag to retrieve the little booklet of papers which he then passed over to the first man who looked it over with the same suspicious gaze..

In the end, it was his eyes that gave him away, running across the page too quickly and in such a strange pattern that he couldn’t have been reading. So either, he was lazy, or he couldn't read.

The man waved a dismissive hand, “Let him through.” 

Eli was quickly sent on his way as the first man moved quickly onto his next subject. 

         As soon as they were out of hearing range a grumble rose up from the depths of his bag “He lies.”       

   Eli resisted the urge to brush a hand through his hair, “ It wasn’t totally a lie, besides What would you rather I had done? Tell them why we are really here?”

         Wink stared at him from the shadow of the pouch contemplating his words before, “You are hardly likely to find your father here, and we both know it.”

Eli set his jaw forcing himself not to take Wink’s comments personally, “I know, but this isn’t about that, this is about…. Me.”

Wink hummed, “About that, what makes you think you are worth saving anyway. I thought you were erudite enough to know a lost cause when you see one” 

         Eli snorted “Big words from a wad of goo I might have just scraped from the bottom of my boot….. do you even know what it means?”

         “I know plenty of large words, because unfortunately the only reading material I have in here during our long journeys just so happens to be your creepy journal and Cripman’s Thesaurus fifth edition. The least you could do is drop in some decent reading material every now and again.”

         Eli huffed, “Yeah, perhaps, perhaps something with lots of pictures and very small words.”

         “You cheeky bastard.”

         “That’s me.” He looked up at the pale sky above and sighed. Besides, the wink was only half right. This wasn’t about stopping fear anymore; This was about saving his life. Eli only had so many days left, and those days were numbered. 

         He turned up another side street, following the map he had memorized earlier towards the center of the city. As he kept going, evidence of rot and sickness became more evident. More and more of those hand pulled carts trundled down the streets hardly even bothering to cover their gruesome cargo, all a mass of limbs and flesh melted together until it seemed to create one massive creature rather than just a pile of human bodies.

         A metaphor, Simile or perhaps a close facsimile to the physical avatar of Affliction itself.

         His mind was brought back to a page in his father’s Journal, where in was written an excerpt from one of the many books he had read, before leaving the journal to Eli. , “The Dreads and their incarnations” He could almost see the page upon which its description had been written, penned neatly in his father’s steady hand. 

 The creature lies within a pit in the ground-- a strange place for a god, though it is somehow fitting. The pit is filled a tenth of the way with brackish feted water, and flies churn in great wheeling circles overhead. When the creature moves it shifts with a great squelching sound that rips and rends like diseased flesh being peeled from bone.  The pit itself is wide, almost unfathomably so, stretching out for what must be miles, and inside rests Affliction, a god of sickness, disease, and plague.

To look upon it is to understand unfathomable corruption and disgust as its great amorphous blob of skin seems to churn and undulate below. Its outside are bruised in the many colors of a rainbow, sour and perverted into this strange and unholy facsimile.  It cannot be fathomed from where it starts and where it ends, and the limbs that wave above its head could be hands or feet or tentacles.

Not many but the Outbreak have seen the creature’s true form, for the power it holds, means that, to look on its body is to embrace the sickness, be permitted by it to become one with it.

To rot right down to the marrow of one’s bones.

                  Eli had some pity for the writer, for if he had seen what he had described, it was likely he was either one…. Dead, or two, a shambling corpse labeled as one of the Outbreak 

         He couldn’t say he felt entirely sorry for the man, as his first hand account saved Eli the curiosity of having to look at himself….. and the horrible boils that likely would have resulted. Overhead the sky had turned orange as the sun disseminated through the fog of corruption which shrouded the city. 

         It was a horrible place, and if it wasn’t for the Outbreak, the people would likely have fled long ago. but the Affliction had claimed them, and it wasn’t likely to let them leave any time soon. 

         Eli was close now, maybe a few blocks away from the library, and overhead, a rolling bank of clouds was passing its first shadow over the city.

         Looking at the library, he could only hope that it would be cleaner on the inside than it was on the outside. 

         It would be best for him to keep his head low lest he attract the attention of one of the Outbreak. He didn’t want to become like these poor trapped souls, subject to their dark god. 

         It was never a good idea to catch the eye of one of the dreads.

         Things tended to go generally very poor once that happened.

         For everyone involved.

         He was only delayed once on his way to the library, cutting behind a low stone archway as a contingent of the outbreak moved up the street, shambling and moaning like the deadmen that they were. He couldn’t tell what they were doing, but had suspicions that they were out hunting…. Looking for someone like him perhaps to bring into their fold, or to infect , their dark offering of fear to their hungry waiting god.

         They passed up the street, and he slipped out from his hiding spot, hurrying forward to the one building in this place that seemed somewhat clean.

         He said somewhat but there was still something about the building that didn’t sit right with him.

         At one point, it had probably been constructed out of large blocks of white marble, though the city had stained the pure stone with yellow over the years, like 

         He paused just outside the door and took a long deep breath, looking up at the words that hung before him.

         The Parvus School of Learning.

         And then he reached out with two gloved hands and pushed the doors inwards.

Chapter 1

Oculus

He scurries through the streets like a rat, his feet trailing whispers behind him as he goes, and even from here I can see the drops of salty, sweat condensation clinging to his skin like a dancer’s paste on jewels.

I know this man, though he doesn’t know me.

But even if he did, he certainly wouldn’t want to. 

A curtain of fog rises in a slow undulating wave from the Swampdark [may change this name] below, like the ghosts of the damned leading a procession towards the stars. When the fog touches me, I can almost feel the lifeless caress of those ghosts, the souls of all those the Swampdark has claimed.

The man turns a corner and I follow him, were it not for the midnight mirth echoing down from the upper city’s pleasure tier, he might have been able to hear the warning hiss of my mechanical joints. Luckily for me, the city humms, and my body hums with it, and in that hum I disappear. 

Music drifts languidly down from above pulsing with a slow, mindless beat. 

The man walks past a line of rickety storefronts, their windows and doors barred, and the message is clear: this city quarter bears no welcome for strangers. As he walks, his profile is painted by swatches of glowing blue neon, and now I can see the bottle in his hand more clearly. Neon light scatters through the container’s glass, and the light it refracts follows him down the street as a pale spector, his only companion in the night.

I slip closer, stealing strides of distance between us, a luxury he doesn’t even know he has.

I know this man.

I know him the way I know the thousands of men just like him, He’s got an iron lung, and it clings to the side of his bare torso like a bulging Nightleach, it's skeletal appendages burrowing into his body where it keeps anchored, The iron lung’s bellows spasm and pulse, struggling against the slow buildup of corrosion and rust, fighting to filter stagnant air into something the blood can use. 

It looks painful, the eternal weight of the iron lung acting as his ball and chain  that adds a perpetual twist to the man’s spine. Dying early might have been preferable to dragging around a botched suborgan.

I know this man.

He drinks hoping to abandon his pain in a bottle, he chews the bitter fungi to hang up his soul for the night, but when the ecstasy leaves him, abandoned like a one night lover he seeks to give his anger away: A gift no one asks for.

And who to give it to, but his starving, skeletal wife, and their seven, ghostly children.

Why would it matter to him? They'll all be corpses soon anyway, who will care if he speeds up the process, gives himself some relief.

I know this man.

And I am here to return his gifts.

The man pulls to a stop, lifting a desiccated hand to his pale, cracked lips. He coughs, and an unnatural sound is birthed from between his rotting teeth: wet and filmy, with saliva blackened by decay and rust. 

He turns another corner, passing silently into the lurking darkness. A path waits there, beckoning us downward until the city is lost above us behind miles of desperate metal and concrete. 

We step off the path, enfolded at once within an oppressive forest of towering iron 

stilts collectively called the hands of salvation: baseless rhetoric streaming like piss from the mouths of upper tier clergy. I doubted a single one of those godless men had ever even laid eyes on a support pillar, less like a saintly hand lifting its inhabitants towards the sky, but more like a diseased arm, holding a plate cruelly above  child’s grasping fingers 

I am behind him now, no more than a few precious feet of feted atmosphere occupies the space between us

If he turned now, he could reach up and pluck away my eyes.

Overhead, the support beams creak and chitter, as if conversing among themselves.

The swamp dark is never silent. 

The man’s steps are slow, plodding out the beat of his own funeral dirge against the hard-packed pathway.

Those unfortunate creatures that dwell here in the Swampdark are never without sound or even light, rocked to sleep by the tittering lullabies of rusted metal, and bathed in the malicious green glow of the trinity fields. 

Wobbly, stilt legged hovels huddle together in lopsided clusters over the uneven ground of the Swampdark,desperate to avoid coming within close proximity of one of the pillars.

Despite living in truth’s overwhelming shadow, the people of the swamp dark still refuse to look her in the eye.

We are halfway to the first rickety settlement, and I don’t know what it is he senses first. The man doesn’t have many natural senses at his disposal as, One by one, a lifetime of hardships has robbed his bodily coffers clean of taste, smell, and touch. But still, I watch the chill as it licks down his spine, alerting him to my presence and causing him to turn.

Robbed of his taste and smell, life left one parting insult on its way out the door, and the man is shorter than me by almost a foot, but despite all that he is lacking, he still has the good sense to be terrified.

He backs away jaundiced eyes as wide and pale as the cryptcap mushrooms beneath his feet.

I know this man.

And now, he knows me too.

Knows me by my mechanical augments, my wire implants, my external regulator, and the large silver eye that blinks at him from the upper right side of my chest.

A word condolences from thought and forms as a word on his lips

Oculus 

But he never gets the chance to speak it  as my hand cuts off whatever piffling speech he was about to make, but 

I know this man.

And I have heard his speech before muttered, screamed and pleased from a hundred quivering lips. They all offer the same excuses, passed between each other like an unwashed pair of socks.

And when the excuses fail to soften me, please and promises, empty and echoing like the bottles in their hands.

I lift the little man into the air kicking and struggling. He is heavier than he looks, iron lung dragged ever downward by the crushing weight of gravity, but my augmented limbs whirring to life with a hungry hiss. 

Yun Johnov 

I am here to equalize your sins.

I start with a headbut to the face, the cruel ridge of my mask biting into the delicate cartilage of his nose, which snaps without much protest. He howls, blood escaping eagerly from his nose to trace a getaway down his lips and chin. 

With his feet back on the ground, I reel back and punch him hard in the gut, brutalizing his already corroded liver. 

He doubles over retching.

I knee him, this time in his chin, and he reels backward, tripping over a huddle of mushrooms and staggering to one knee.  His iron lung screeches in protest, but I’m not quite done just yet.

I step forward, casting the dim impression of my shadow over his quivering body. He casts his hands high, shielding me from his sight.

But I want him to look at me.

I kick his hands out of the way, feeling as one of his brittle bones crumbles beneath my kick. 

His face is open and uncovered now, chin and mouth glazed in blood, thinning hair slick with sweat. 

I pull back one more time.

He falls to the ground a moment later, bearing my signature, signed with the judicious application of my open palm. My mark will last for days, the broken nose for a few weeks, but the memory of my intervention will remain until the bellows of his miserable lung stops choking in air.

“An eye for an eye.” I say, making my pronouncement to no one in particular as I stand over his battered body. 

We are close enough to the nearest cowering settlement for the occupants to have heard us, but they are unlikely to come to the man’s aid. Either he will negotiate his way back upright, or he will decay there in the mud, fertilizing the trinity fields with his juices, leaving only an iron lung as his headstone.

I bar thoughts of the man from my mind as I turn and trace my way up the pathway and into the lower city.

The lower city isn’t really part of the city proper, but a minefield of ghostly shanty towns, stacked in dangerously unbalanced heaps in the shadow of the upper city. The people here aren’t well off, but at least they are blessed to sit cupped in the palms of salvation, or at least that’s how some try to justify their miserable existence. 

In reality, people in the lower city aren’t much better off than people in the Swampdark, in fact the only real difference between the two groups is a matter of a few IQ points and a false sense of superiority. 

Despite the abundance of ramshackle dwellings, I don’t see many people here, and I don’t expect to. Generally, I am the first person most people see, and the last person most  people want to see, and as a result, my very existence tends to thin a crowd. 

I pass through the ghost shanties, as much as a ghost myself.

From there, I find my way up to the pleasure tier, its streets glazed with candy-bright colors spilling down from vibrant neon signs, and refracting through grimy panes of glass. 

The music crawls its sinuous way down into the street and vibrates up through the souls of my feet, stopping to pulse, and dance to the beat of the blood in my ears. 

Men and women writhe and dance before me, bathed together in the neon light. I can sense a few wary eyes turned my way, but the vast majority of people hardly notice me. The tang of trinity hangs heavy on the air, its presence announced by the thick, sweet smoke, and the bitter taste that makes itself manifest on the back of my tongue. A young woman staggers past me, the white underbelly of her eyes on full display, and her arms are flung out to either side as trinity guides her through fields of ecstasy for the night.

Curvaceous shadows dance low, and slow beyond a red-shrouded window.

“Over here, Oculus.”

Tangled between strands of real human hair, delicate fibrous cables lift themselves from my scalp tugging me towards the origin of the sound. 

The owner of that voice, does not attempt to hide, quite the opposite in fact

She stands in a nearby doorway, allowing glowing neon the privilege of kissing her skin as she stands. A ruby red gown blooms from her body stretching in languid curves down her legs and towards the floor. A wave of long dark hair spills down the side of her face and onto her shoulder, which is bare, and open to the night air.

I am surprised to see she is mostly organic, none of her curves borrowed, leased or welded on. 

She motions me over with a finger, “You look like someone who could use some company.” The same rote phrase trails from her lips, like it has from thousands of lips just like her since time immemorial. 

I raise an eyebrow, and the fiber optic cables in my hair rise with it, “Is that so?

She smiles, and I am almost impressed to see she has all her teeth, either that or an excellent set of dentures, “I believe it is.” When she breathes, a gentle fog of steam obscures the clear plastic of her external regulator, her only non-implanted augmentation. 

I tap my wrist, and her corresponding hand lights up. She looks down and then back to me, “That’ll get you an hour.” But even as she begins to speak, I have already waded my first few steps back into the flow of the crowd. 

“Hey! Where are you going! You know, I don’t do third party locations.” she says shouting to be heard over the music.

I turn my head internally, dialing down the background noise so I can hear her more clearly, “Keep it.” I say allowing the crowd to flow around me on either side. 

St stands, resting her hands on her full hips. Somehow, even her hands are beautiful: long and slender against the ruby hue of her dress, “I don’t accept charity, Oculus.”

“It’s not charity.” I say, calling back over my shoulder. 

She tosses her hair, which whips itself into a proud mane around her shoulders,“Then what is it!”

“A thank you.”

That response seems to catch her off guard. She stands, a pillar of stillness in a sea of flashing lights, and stares at me through the ebbing tide of the crowd, “For what?”

I turn away from her, and when I finally give her my voice, it is a quiet offering falling from my lips like shredded paper fluttering down from the upper city, “For being the first person to talk to me like a human tonight.” 

I make sure to be gone before she can answer, allowing myself to be swept away by a torrent of light and noise, bodies pressed around me filling my nose with the sulfurous odor of sweat, and the bitter tang of trinity.

Leaving the pleasure district, I shed neon and sweet smoke like water, the night air of the manufacturing district scrubbing my skin clean of revelry only to apply its own unique perfume.

Industry.

A distant line of massive, black smokestacks cuts a violent edge across the diffused, blue glow of the city skyline, huffing great clouds of rancid black smoke into the already hazy blue air. Lines of steel cables, electrical wires and bridges cut an impressionist pattern between the towering buildings.

The trinity factories are never quiet, run perpetually by ghostly night shift laborers fed with a steady stream of liquid stim. Some with company- subsidized ports directly into their bloodstreams for easier dosing. I’d seen it close up on several occasions, once as a boy when I was briefly employed on the refinery floor: employed until a steel hatch severed three of my fingers, and I was made redundant.

I flex my hand at the phantom memory of pain, before abandoning the memory on the streetside, though it would inevitably follow me home and find its way back into my head.

Until then, I would force peace upon myself.

The  industry  district occupies a long, single stretch of road that cuts like a scar through the central stacks of the city, always no more than a few miles from any possible origin point, offering no excuses for workers who found themselves running a few minutes late. Beyond this, only the trinity fields stretching for miles of back breaking labor beneath the city offer any consistent source of work.

I make my way past these buildings, hunching gloomily against the perpetually dark sky, and finally find my feet plodding along more familiar paths.

My place of work sits sandwiched somewhere off and to the side of both the industry district and the administration/government district ostracized from the bulk of the city by high concrete fences topped with a thin, blue electrical field. Additionally, the outer perimeter is surrounded on three sides by a murky perimeter of marble black water serving as a secondary deterrent to anyone already stupid eough to get to close to begin with.

I approach the front gate, a massive slab of silver metal with a barely visible hairline seam running a track down the middle.

At the center of the gate, the large, silver mockery of an eye blinks open, its external sensors connecting to the eye on my chest.

It blinks once issuing a series of robotic sounds followed by an inhuman mechanical voice.

Oculus Ailanthus 3 

The gate cracks open, splitting the eye in half to invite me inside. 

The courtyard and training fields lie silent and abandoned this time of day. My footsteps echo in protest to the silence as I lead my one man procession up to the grand double doors, which slide open for me without a sound. A thin beam of green/yellow light pours in a torrent from the open door, sweeping me up in a blinding spotlight as I step through the doors and into the grand atrium.

My eyes shed a small torrent of tears as they adjusted to the light, pouring down from our one greatest symbol of power and glory.

The tree.

Tall enough and wide enough, to take up the entire far wall of the large atrium, the plant stands proud within its environmentally controlled glass enclosure. A shroud of golden light filters gently through the emerald leaves and onto the ground where a curtain of lazy grass sways slowly in an artificial breeze. As far as I know, the tree is the largest of its kind, at least thirty feet tall, with a trunk as thick as a man’s thigh, and a tangle of branches forking out like the delicate veins and capillaries of a man’s heart. The leaves that sprout from its branches are smaller than my palm, and shaped like gently tapering spades.

As usually, the tree robs me of both my breath and attention, but I’m not one to complain.

“Oculus…”

Everything inside that class container is so clean, and gentle, even the lacy patterns of golden light cast onto the ground seem so much brighter than the grungy blue neon that paints the walls of the city.

“Ailanthus!”

Reality makes its unwanted appearance, barging in on the back of our front desk administrator’s nasally voice. I turn my eyes on the little man, no larger than five foot four, fighting with an aggressively retreating hairline, in a losing battle for his scalp. The son of some mid level administrator, he had been granted little enough power, and an even smaller amount of respect.

He glares at me expectantly, his small black uniform hanging in bags around his armpits and chest.

Usually, I might have had a little sport with the tiny man, but not today.

I walk up to the counter, and stand still, while the little man, can’t remember his name, unlocks the Observer from my chest, unplugging the bionic eye with a pop. He turns in his chair, plugging the camera into a waiting port, “Report?”

I rest the palms of my hands flat on his countertop, smudging its polished surface with the imprint of my fingers, “I have completed three sanctioned beatings, two retaliatory robberies, and returned three truancies. It must be noted that one retaliatory robbery resulted in compulsory amputation when no item of equal or greater value could be provided.” 

Behind him, the observer unit blinked and chimed a long, low note.

The small man gave an aggressive stamp to a sheet of paper and handed it over.

“Bring this to-.”

“The records office, I know.” I held up the paper, eyes scanning lazily down the page as I made my leisurely way from the room, red ink glistening like a smear of blood on the white paper circular red letters reading. 

Government of the Coladium: Department of the Seer Collective 

Oculus 336 Ailanthus. 

Certification of case completion.

I dropped my hand to the side, letting the piece of paper fall with it, turning only once to look back at the tree glowing like a beacon in the atrium behind me. 

[fanficsthatmakemybraingobrr]

A Night In Cairo

Chapter 2

Indiana Jones x Gender-Neutral Reader

Content warning: Mild panic attack

You’re a Intern at Marshall College in Bedford Connecticut and you work with Dr.Jones, but he sucks at his job and is never there and is always behind with work making you get the short end of the stick. Then he drags you on a trip to Cairo with him.

I don't quite like how this chapter turned out,  I mean I posted it on a03 and I've been wanting to rewrite it but I want to see how it does on here and maybe I will maybe wont! And please give me feedback and tell me what I could do better next time! I hope y'all enjoy!

link to Chapter 1

Link to AO3

When Jones said the morning you didn’t think he meant 5am. Now you're in his car as he’s driving you to god knows where. You two are sitting in awkward silence. It feels like the silence is lasting for eternity.

So many different thoughts rush through your head while you look out the window at the passing scenery trying to distract yourself. Dr.Jones still hasn’t told you why the hell you are going to Cairo. You’ve never even been out of the US! You had no idea how to pack or prepare for a trip like this! And Egypt for your first trip? This is all way too overwhelming. All of your anxieties and nerves Eat away at you as you sit in the passenger side seat. You need to start asking questions.

“So uh… Dr.Jones-“ He chuckles and lightly waves his hand in the air.

“Please cut it with the formal crap, just call me Indy.” You look at the older man with slight surprise. He's never acted this friendly towards you, he's always been really professional. Maybe he's acting so differently because you two are out of the office? So many thoughts are racing in your mind.

“Um alright Indy-” You grimace slightly saying his first name, it feels weird. “Could you tell me why we are going to Cairo and especially at such a short notice? I mean I've never been out of the US before let alone being on a plane!” You spiral into a rambling mess asking a million different questions at once. Indy sighs. 

“Hey calm down ___ it’s going to be fine.” You shoot him a confused look. What does he mean? It's going to be fine?. He basically kidnapped you and is now taking you to a foreign country! 

“I received an invitation from The Museum Of Cairo to one of their fancy Banquets after I returned an artifact that I found last time I was there. We fly in tonight. The banquet is tomorrow night and then we leave straight away the next morning. ” Indiana says nonchalantly. There's a long pause between you and him.

“And you kidnapped me because…?” Indiana jeered at your comment.

“Hey! I didn't kidnap you! This was all just a little last minute…and I brought you with me because they gave me a plus one and….well…” He paused and had an embarrassed look on his face.

“You don't have any friends?” Indiana's eyes widened and he scoffed at your smartass remark.

“No! because you're my intern, I just thought it would be a good experience for you. and it's nothing too intense, it's basically a vacation if anything you should be thanking me!” This conversation didn't make you feel any better about this damn trip, at this point you don't think anything can. The rest of the car ride fell into the awkward silence once again.

Soon enough the car pulled up to a terminal. As you exit the car, you realize this is your first time on a plane. As you both entered the cabin a short stewardess in a blue uniform with red lipstick greeted you telling you to enjoy your flight. The cabin was pretty spacious with comfortable looking seats and plenty of amenities. Both you and Indy’s seats were vertical from each other with a small table in between. You take your seat closest to the window. Looking around you there weren’t many other people on the plane. 

“Wow, this looks expensive..” your eyes landing back on Indy as you take your seats, the older man chuckled, taking his hat off, placing it down on the table and grabbing a book out of his carry on.

“This is all paid for so enjoy it. We’re gonna be on this plane for about 10 hours.” 10 hours? You could feel your anxiety start to build as the information settled in. What are you going to do? You started thinking of different ways to cope with your anxiety but it just feels worse. The stewardess walks up to the middle of the isles addressing the passengers. 

“Hello, everyone!” She announced with a high pitched peppy and somewhat languid voice.

 “Welcome to your flight to Cairo! This is going to be a long journey, so please make yourself comfortable! If you need anything or have a question or concern during this flight, please don’t be afraid to ask me or one of my fellow stewardesses. We will be taking off very shortly, so sit back, relax and thank you for flying with us, we hope you have a pleasant flight!” You would be lying if you said her voice wasn’t annoying.

The plane slowly started to move forward, as the aircraft moved the tighter your chest felt and the more knotted your stomach got. Gaining speed the cabin rumbled, gripping the armrest, your body felt tense and numb with your anxiety growing more. The plane lifted up from the ground, it felt like you were sinking into your seat while your stomach dropped. You desperately try calming yourself down but failing miserably the feelings of panic were too overwhelming. You look around for something- anything to help. 

Indy couldn’t focus on his book with your heavy breathing in his ear, it was almost getting on his nerves, but he couldn’t be upset about it. It would be hypocritical of him. There have been times where he’s gotten nervous on planes. This trip was also pretty last minute, and it’s your first time flying..dammit now he’s starting to feel bad. You’ve done so much for him and have worked really hard your whole internship, the least he can do is try to comfort you. Indiana placed his book in his lap with a sigh and turned his head towards you. You are staring at the ground with your hands tightly clutching to the armrests of your chair. 

“Hey.” He says in a hush but commanding tone, Indiana isn’t used to comforting people so he was trying his best not to sound too awkward or unnatural. Your eyes were glued to the ground; it felt like you couldn’t speak. There was a pause and you managed to let out a small ‘hm?’ trying not to sound too anxious. 

“Hey, can you look at me?” He grumbled a bit, you snapped your eyes shut and tried to calm down just feeling more overwhelmed. Indy exhaled- he didn’t mean to say it like that he’s just not good at things like this. You deserved better. Indiana gently placed his hand on top of yours. You open your eyes a bit taken aback. This time he spoke more softly.

“Hey ___ it’s going to be okay.” Your hands slowly let go of the chair. That was the first time he’s actually called you by your name. You turn your head and look at him. His face is different. You’ve never seen this kind of expression on him before. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his eyes look at you with worry and concern. A part of you wanted to look away or at least somewhere else but the way his glasses framed his eyes made it almost impossible. Indiana slightly squeezed your hand snapping you out of your daze.

“I promise. It’s okay___.” He’s never acted like this before, and it’s kind of nice. There was a pause of silence and you just looked at him, it wasn’t uncomfortable- it was the opposite, it was oddly comfortable? 

“Do you feel better?” He tilted his head to the side waiting for your answer. 

“Uh yeah, I do feel a lot better thanks.” You pulled your hand away, his touch was starting to feel like a little too much. Your face felt warm but you definitely felt better than before. Indy had a small smile on his face.

“That’s good, I was worried.” He then picked his book back up. 

“Try to sleep, it’ll help time pass by.” Indiana suggested as he started to read his book again. He was right, maybe you should try to sleep. After not being able to sleep last night and having a panic attack, you’re pretty exhausted. You shut your window and lay your chair back, there’s nobody sitting behind you, so you have quite a bit of space to lay back. You then prop your feet on top of the table and then your head against your chair. You didn’t realize how heavy your eyelids were until your head hit the cushioned headrest of your chair and soon enough you were out.

#indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #harrison ford #please give me feedback i am begging

[elliebyrrdwrites]

The Heist (dramione)

I wont post this onto A03 until all parts are complete, but here's the first part of this chapter(s) just for tumblr (also this is unedited).

It's poetry week in my creative writing class so this will be worked on in between that and all of my other millions of tasks needed to be done.

A Night at the Museum, Pt. 1

“Can you hear me?” Grangers voice asked into his ear. Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek at the way it caused his body to shudder.

Theo jerked beside him and responded first. “Clear as day, love.” He clears his throat and pulled the little black earbud from his ear and stared at it in intrigue. “This is quite nifty. If I wear this at night, will you tell me a story to help me sleep better?”

Draco chuckled and ran a thumb over the earbud in his own ear.

Granger’s grin at Theo was crooked and lovely.

“We could stay up chatting about books and boys.” Theo went on, causing her to crinkle her nose.

"You mean me. I'd be the boy.” Draco finally responded as he ran his hands over his body. He found his stash of chocolate covered peanut butter bites and pulled a small handful free.

Grangers gaze slid to his, her eyes wide with amusement and that crooked smile grew as she took him in.

Draco winked at her as he tossed two of the candies into his mouth.

She shook her head, slowly, the ponytail she wore swaying with the movement.

Theo might have scoffed or choked but he didn't say anything. He only stared at Granger with the same sort of attention Draco put on her.

They were all wearing the same black on black on black outfits. Black beanie, black long sleeve shirts and black pants. Shoes, wand holsters, etc. all black.

Except, after some insistence on Ginny and Grangers part, the girls wore black tight leggings. The witches claimed it was for more flexibility but Draco thought they looked rather uncomfortable.

The problem, really, was that Granger looked like a bloody goddess in hers. Those damn tights left nothing to the imagination and when she had apparrated onto the building top with Draco and Theo, both men had been left speechless. Momentarily useless.

While Theo had shoved his fist between his teeth and looked away, Draco jammed his tongue into the inside of his cheek while his eyes took in every inch of her, greedily the sight of her in.

“Are you two done flirting with Aunt Hermione?” Teddy asked with a grin on his face, causing the Potters and Seamus to snicker.

“Not tonight.” Theo said while Draco grinned at Granger and said, “Never.” And tossed the remaining candy into his mouth.

She pursed her lips as if disappointed with her two thieves but there was a glint of something like joy or intrigue in her eyes, maybe both, as she turned toward the others.

“Do we all understand our roles?” Draco addressed the group as he tightened a buckle on his wand holster.

Ginny nodded. “Harry and I will work on the wards around the section of campus with the most superficial wards.” She had her hand running soothing lines down Harry's chest, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Draco thought, as he observed the tall, athletic woman, she seemed to be more excited about this job than the rest of them, aside from maybe Teddy.

“Why are you so excited? Aren't you a mother?” Theo asked, apparently thinking the same thing as Draco.

Ginny lifted her head off of her husbands shoulder. “And I'm not allowed to have any fun?”

“If anything,” Harry argued. “I think her being a mother explains it more than makes it difficult to understand.” When he said this, Ginny nodded and grinned at her husband with adoration.

Draco looked over at Granger, to find her smiling fondly at them, if not a little nostalgic.

��Teddy boy and I will remove the Apparation wards wrapped around the building.” Theo said, stretching his arms, fingers clasped, high above his head.

“I’ll be disarming the muggle security system.” Seamus chimed in, already pulling a sleek laptop from a bag at his feet.

"I thought your job was blowing stuff up.” Teddy asked.

Seamus grinned and it was potentially the most gleeful Draco had ever seen the wizard in years. “Who says I won't?”

"Seamus,” Granger sighed. “This is not the job for that.”

"I'm just sayin’.” He shrugged, opening the lap top and lowering himself to a transfigured bit of trash into a stool. “I'm always prepared.”

Theo narrowed his eyes on Seamus and frowned. “I’d better not trip on a bomb in there, Seamus.”

Seamus chuckled and tapped furiously away at the computer. “You wouldn’t trip on a bomb, mate. You’d trip on a wire.”

“Right.” Draco went on. “As soon as those superficial layers are lifted, Granger and I will immediately get to work on the more complex ones beneath.”

“After we lift Anti-apparation wards,” Theo joined.

“Once they do, while Malfoy and I continue to peel back the wards, you can all apparate to your entry points. Once we’ve lifted the exterior wards, we’ll all dismantle the wards at the entry points .” Granger finished as she began stretching.

“Turn that ear thingie on, darling.” Draco told her, watching as she reached her hands high up in the sky, twirling her wrists.

She dropped her hands and pressed a button on a batter pack on her waist.

“Ready?” She spoke and her little earbud picked up on it, sending her question into their ears.

Theo shuddered and Draco straightened, rolling his shoulders back. He kept his eyes pinned to hers as he smirked, “Whenever you are.”

Granger lifted her chin and grinned before turning toward the building across the street. Having apparated onto the rooftop of the building across from their target, it gave them a vantage point as the plan unfolded.

Adjusting her little black purse slung around her body, she pulled her wand out and checked the wards one more time.

After forty-five seconds, she nodded to the Potters who immediately disapparated. Theo and Teddy followed suit and the crack of their departure hung in the air.

Granger stared at the spot Theo had stood in.

“Are you worried about him?” Draco approached her, standing just behind her, looking down at her from over her shoulder.

She looked up at him and shrugged. “I’m always worried about him.”

“And why is that?” Draco’s hand lifted and his fingers traced a little curl of hair that rested along her temple.

Her eyes fluttered just before she turned to face the Museum across from them. Draco's hand fell to her shoulder.

“Because he is impulsive.”

"You know I can hear you, right?” Theos voice said into all their ears.

Granger grinned and Draco chuckled.

“Don't worry about me, love. You and Draco won't let me get in over my head.”

She looked up at Draco and lifted a brow. Draco nodded in agreement. “What could he possibly get into, darling?” He grinned.

But Granger snorted and shook her head. “I thought you, of all people, would understand.”

“It was one time, love.” Theo huffed into their ears.

Harry’s voice came through next. “Our wards are lifted over here.”

There was a moment of quiet before Theo said, “All clear here. Apparate away.”

Draco looked over his shoulder to where Seamus was typing furiously onto the laptop. Seamus held up on finger while his other hand typed, his wand clenched between his teeth.

And then he stopped typing and held a thumbs up.

Draco wrapped his arm around Grangers waist and Apparated them across the street and onto the roof of the museum.

“Although,” Theo mused into their ears. “This is a little bit like Amsterdam.”

Granger made a sound in her throat. Something close to a growl. “Theo,” she sighed as her wand began to create intricate designs, her eyes following the movement.

Draco began to weave through the wards with her.

Granger had determined that the wards beneath the simpler, superficial layers were a two man job. They required precision in order to keep whoever set them from being alerted once they were removed or possibly breached.

Draco was the obvious choice for the job, seeing as he was second to her amongst the group, at ward breaking.

“Are you ever going to tell us what happened in Amsterdam?” Teddy asked.

Granger, Theo and Ginny all responded at once.

“No,”

“Maybe.”

"I already know.”

Draco laughed as Granger winced. Theo was apoplectic.

“What!” His voice distorted in their ears.

“Relax,” Granger hissed as she swept her arm in a wide arch over her head and spun to her left, flicking her arm down. “She doesn't know everything. Just...”

“That you might have shagged.” Harry snickered into their ears and Draco glanced over at her as his wand made intricate little loops, unweaving a particularly difficult part of the ward.

“So you admit it!” Theo hissed back and Draco chuckled as the space between her brows creased with equal parts annoyance and concentration.

“There’s nothing to admit.” Granger sniffed. But her focus quickly switched to the next set of wards she and Draco were working on. Meticulously pulling back each layer of the was challenging. It required a sort of synchronization. A sort of dance between the two of them.

She sidestepped towards Draco as he stepped her way, falling in behind her.

His right hand settled onto her hip as he continued casting. Granger was working on the lower section of the wards.

“Tell us a story, Aunt Hermione.” Teddy asked with a devious sort of lilt to his voice.

“Yeah, Granger.” Draco murmured, lowering his mouth close to her ear.

She stiffened, his hand tightened for a moment on her hip and then let go as they continued on their respective paths to remove the ward. She stepped further to the left, he further to the right.

It was like a dance.

“Tell us what happened in Amsterdam.” He grinned over at her when she shot him a glare.

There was a pause in their ears before Theo finally responded. “It started with a job like this.”

“Theo,” Granger sighed.

“Did you want to tell the story, love?”

She completed her end of the ward. Draco worked on the last bit of his. “I’m not the one who has anything to be ashamed of.”

“Not even the part where you threw yourself onto my -”

“If you’re going to tell the story, Theo, do it right.” She cut him off and then nodded at Draco when he lifted his wand from the edge of the ward, vanishing it completely. “Outer wards are down. Get to your entry points.”

“Let us know when the locks are disabled, Seamus” Draco moved to the skylight window in the middle of the roof.

They quickly went to removing the wards set specifically to the window.

“We could vanish it once we’re done?” Granger suggested.

“It might reappear on us, if something goes wrong.” He frowned and looked down at her. She was doing that thing with her eyes. That thing that told him she was putting together several different scenarios, calculating their outcomes and creating an equation that might best apply to whatever decision was ultimately made.

“Like I was saying,” Theo continued. “It started with a job like this one. It was my job, really, Granger just happened to be in town for some unsavory reason, I’m sure.”

She sighed through her nose and shook her head. “It was our job. His idea.”

“Hmm.” Theo’s voice hummed in their ear and Draco was fighting the smile as she lifted her wand to the window and mouthed something to herself.

“Regardless, there was a rather fascinating piece on display that would have been a lovely addittion.”

“What was the piece?” Seamus asked.

“It was a painting titled, Almond Blossoms.” Theo announced it like he were a ring master introducing the next act on the bill.

“You were trying to steal a van Gogh?” Draco laughed with a shake of his head. “What the hell caused you to do something so moronic?”

Granger was turning bright red and Theo had paused. Draco suddenly realized what word he had used and recalled what Theo had said last night in the study. About acting like a moron for her.

“Well, it was a beautiful painting, nonetheless, and I decided that I had to get it. Of course, Granger had to make it interesting.”

“How?” Ginny asked.

“I told him to polyjuice as a random muggle from the bar we had a drink in the day before.”

“Not just any random muggle.” Theo corrected her. “But a muggle woman that was quite possibly in her 60’s.”

Laughter filled their ears just before Seamus chimed in.

“Doors are unlocked, but there are active infrared laser beams that are about start about ten feet from each door.”

“Can we apparate around them?” Teddy asked.

“Not until Granger removes the interior wards that prevent disapparation.” Draco murmured the last bit of incantations as he and Granger finally removed the ward on the massive window.

“I want you to vanish the window.” She told Draco. “I can remove the anti-apparation wards from up here without the window.”

“Replace it once we’re inside?” He watched her nod her head. “As you wish.”

She snorted when he grinned at her but he did as she asked and once the glass disappeared, she immediately began to work on the wards.

“Our entry ward is removed.” Ginny announced.

“Ours, too.” Theo said as he yawned into their ears.

“Hold your positions.” Draco instructed as Granger knelt onto the ground and began to cast incantations, her wand directed into the building under their feet.

Draco pulled his candy out and tossed one into his mouth as he watched Granger, on her knees. There was something erotic about the position, obviously and he was more than grateful for the choice of legwear but more than that, her focus was charming. Her eyes were intense as he murmured incantation after incantation. Her full lips moved around the syllables and there was a tiny bead of sweat developing on the back of her neck.

Draco tossed another chocolate covered peanut butter bite into his mouth.

“Would you stop crunching in our ears, Draco!” Theo hissed into theirs.

Deliberately, Draco tossed the remaining bit of candy into his mouth and chewed slowly.

Granger looked over her shoulder and lifted a brow at him.

Draco shrugged.

“You’re a cunt.” Theo growled and Draco laughed.

Granger was smiling as she stood and nodded her head at him.

“Apparate away, team.” Draco reached out a hand to Granger.

When she took it, Draco hauled her into his side. “Where to, darling?” He lowered his face closer to hers and his voice did that thing, again. It dipped low as he breathed in her sweet, citrusy scent. She did that thing where her cheeks filled with a lovely shade of pink.

She cleared her throat. “Straight down, two feet to the left.” Her voice had softened, caressing his ears and his face.

“As you wish.” He murmured into her temple as he tightened his hold around her and diapparated them off the rooftop.

#my writing #fanfic #dramione #dramione fanfic #hermione granger #harry potter #draco malfoy #hermione x draco #draco x hermione #the #theo and draco #theo nott #theomione #partners #partners in crime #ginny w #ginny weasley #seamus #seamus finnigan #teddy lupin #dramione fanfiction #dramione fandom #dramione fan fiction #dramione ship

[analoceits]

mushroom rings & faery things chapter 1: loyalty

A03 link

note:

thanks to ChaosIsMyName on A03 for reading this over!! theyre the fucking best and yall should read their shit.

also uhh. felt fair to warn that i do NOT pull any punches on my body horror. its brief and skippable but i do get pretty intense when i do go with it soo, yeah. as well this is probably one of the darkest and messiest chapters in this whole fic, and the full promise of older brother remus wont come in till later [like chapter 3] so yeah 3 it will happen eventually but right now everyones too messy to be sweet. you can see the seeds of it start to grow tho!!

tags:

Disabled Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Fae, Body Horror, (for like 1 or 2 paragraphs but yknow), Fae Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Light Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Found Family, Things look Worse Than They are, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, implied/referenced suicidal ideation, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders has a Cane, Remus Typical Gore Discussion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Discussions of Death/Grief, no one dies tho,

-

I’m so sorry,

I know you don’t want me to do this, but I know I need too. I can’t go another day not sure if Roman will live or die, and I doubt you guys can either. No matter what you say, I’m indebted to you. It’s time I pay that back. Go to the edge of the woods, my gift will wait there.

With endless loyalty, Virgil.

Virgil pocketed the note in silence. It was the last of many ugly, emotional, gut-wrenching drafts and the only one he could imagine having them read. The only one he had managed to write without crying. With it completed, he had nothing left to do here.

He took one last look at his room from the bed. It didn’t look familiar; he had cleaned up most of his things so they wouldn’t have too while grieving. Still, there were some marks of himself that he couldn’t hide under the bed. 

A scuff in the tile from his boots, old purple sheets torn where he pulled on them too hard, a single blind tied to the rest with green string where he broke it. Family carved into a bed post. Despite his best efforts, there was proof he had lived.

With that bittersweet thought, he pulled himself up off the bed and steadied himself with his cane. He smiled just barely, slowly making his way down the stairs and around the hall. As soon as he was off the stairs, his eyes locked on the front door, but he silently shook his head.

There was one stop before he had to leave.

It took care to ease the bedroom door open silently, but as soon as he did he was at Roman’s bedside. He couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted with guilt at the sight - white bandages wrapping around his stomach where a red sash should be. The only red left was that pouring out of his guts, now.

Between bouts of crying and frantically checking his bandages, Logan had called it a godly miracle he survived. That was, of course, right before Patton physically dragged him to bed for his own sake, but it still held some weight. Their luck couldn’t last them forever, though. 

His eyes darted down to his cane when the thought hit him. The cane was a gift from Roman, one he had carved for hours on hours with painstaking care after Virgil started to complain of his pain. The one with from your family carved under the handle in gentle letters. Virgil had to hold back tears of joy when he first used it.

It was the last gift Roman was able to give him, a gift to make sure he wasn’t in pain. Even with the cane, he couldn't help Patton forage, or Logan shop, or Roman hunt. The thought sent a strange spiraling guilt through Virgil, but it didn’t matter.

It didn’t, because he knew he could fix it anyway. No matter how high the price may be.

He slipped the note out of his pocket. It was so small in his hand, but it must’ve weighed ten thousand pounds with how hard it was to hold. He tucked it in between Roman’s fingers with painstaking care. It was the only spot he could think to leave it.

Sparing one last glance to Roman’s limp form, he turned his back on the bed. The satchel felt practically weightless when he pulled it over his shoulder - if you could even call it that. It was tiny, only enough to fill a small cup of milk and a tiny jar of honey. That was all he needed.

Right as he went to stand up, a sharp whimper sounded from behind him. He glanced back to Roman, twisting and turning fitfully in his bed between little cries. Right, nightmares. They had only gotten worse since his accident, Logan had mentioned.

He hesitated before turning around, but he knew he didn’t have the guts to leave him like that. He was loyal to him. His hands were practically shaking as he nervously brushed the hair out of Roman’s face and shushed him, “shh, it’s ok.. there you go, there you go bud. You ain’t got anything to fear, Ro.”

Slowly, Roman stopped his twisting and turning, quieting down. Still, there was the slightest furrow to his brow and Virgil couldn’t help the fond way he sighed. He leaned down over him, brushing a finger over his brow as he kissed his forehead.

As soon as he drew back up, there was a hand softly grasping at his wrist, and it took all his willpower to pull out of the grip. “I know,” he said as he fit the sheets back over Roman, “I don’t want me to leave either.”

It wasn’t hard to open the house door silently and it wasn’t hard to pace down the stone path without his boots or cane making a noise. No, that wasn’t hard, he had practiced. It was hard to not look back. It was so hard, to swallow his guilt and grief and not look at those unlit windows. 

He kept walking anyway.

Their house was near the edge of the woods, so he knew it wasn’t going to be a very long walk. Still, his entire body ached and he stumbled down the path as it turned from stone to gravel, then to dirt, then to overgrown grass. Brambles thickened on either side of the trail.

Finally, he reached the edge of the woods, and it was just as great and imposing as he remembered. Dark, thick leaves hung overhead and any trace of moonlight would be gone as soon as he passed under those trees. He knew he wouldn’t need the light, the path painstakingly memorized but the darkness felt endless nonetheless. 

With one deep breath he pushed between the leaves and made his way onto a deer path carved in the grass. There was just the barest shine from moonlight that managed to worm its way between leaves, and he thanked the heavens for that.

Every passing step through, though, had the moon’s light fading until pure black clawed at the edges of his vision and he could barely see his own boots. The old growth of the forest thickened around him as he went on.

He kicked through undergrowth and slapped at brambles with the edge of his cane. Thick brambles and thorns caught on the edges of his pants, as if the forest itself was pleading with him to head back, but he simply kicked through and continued. No matter what anyone said, he had a duty.

The walk was an hour at most, but it felt like ages. Every step he took he wanted nothing more to turn around and bolt home, but he was not a coward. He was loyal to a default; he would not give up when he was needed. Even if he couldn’t think to call himself a good person, he payed his debts.

Even with the misery, he had a slight bit of company. The sounds of nature churred around him; a breaking stick and then the delighted chirp of grasshoppers, a shrill whistle cry of a bird and then a distant splash from a pond out of his view. The closer he got to his destination, the louder and more frequent the noises became; an accompanying orchestra. He didn’t know if it was a hopeful heroic swell or a tragic one.

Finally, the woods started to clear around him; giving up on fighting him. Slowly, at first, brambles let up and the barest glint of moonlight shone through the trees, and then all at once as the last bit of undergrowth caught on his boots and he stumbled into the clearing.

It was uncomfortably beautiful. The full moon was bright, shining and hearty (he was sure it had been a half-moon when he had entered, but he didn’t think that mattered where he was.) The stars glittered above head along with it and it felt like they were winking down at him for some inside joke he was now in on.

The main thing that caught his eye, however, was the ring of mushrooms. They were stark, bright red and it briefly reminded his of Roman’s garish sash - then it reminded him of his blood, and his heart sank. It was fine, he told himself, he was making it up now.

He took a few paces ahead and then dropped to his knees right in front of the faery ring, carefully and slowly removing the pack from his shoulder and unloading the contents. Milk, honey, and a bowl. Perfect.

A strange sense of calm came over him as he placed the bowl in the farthest point of the ring. It was a painful, aching calm; like he was planning his own funeral. A singular mourner holding vigil for his own life, a living corpse. It was grim, but more than fitting.

The milk and honey smelled disgustingly sweet as he poured them both into the bowl, even if his hands were shaking. The moon and the stars glowed overhead like lanterns - no, eyes, eyes burning into the back of his skull. They waited to see what he would do next; lions waiting to pounce on him.

As soon as the contents were poured out, he lifted himself up with cane and took a step into the circle. His body rocked with invisible force until he dropped and was kneeling, hands desperately wrapped around the still up-right cane like in prayer. It wasn’t really that funny to him, but he didn’t try to move.

Instead, he bowed his head, terror suddenly pounding through his ribs and lungs like a horribly off tune song. Grief ran through jaw and throat, wrapping around it like a snake and making it hard to breath. Grief for himself and grief for growing old with them. Even if he knew he needed to do this, he missed home.

Still, through the aching pain, a deep, indescribable burning set ablaze in his finger tips and deep in his chest, and every spot where Roman’s nimble fingers would cart through his hair when he needed it. He thought that warmth might be called loyalty.

“I have an offering,” his voice was more hoarse than he had expected, but it was good enough. For a brief, but completely nauseating moment, nothing happened. The stars continued to blink above and moonlight danced in his vision.

Then blood welled through the grass, and the earth became an open wound. Dirt pushed itself apart and away, grass seeming to sway to avoid what was crawling out of the earth. Blood and sap, wood and flesh arose all at once in a spiraling tower of something, something that should not exist. Skin knit over pulsating, ugly flesh and a pair of eyes stared at him for something that was supposed to be a face.

Finally, something human like was formed. Human-like, because those few seconds taught Virgil that whatever fae were, they were not human. It stared down at him, a strange blank curiosity on its features. 

As he stared back at it, something suddenly clicked in his brain and he was sure he was going to be sick. He wanted to be wrong, but the only question left was a simple one. Why the hell was Roman here?

No; it wasn’t exactly Roman, but at the same time.. it could only be him. It was a strange, gross sight. The same dorky smile that showed just one too many teeth, but the teeth were as sharp as blades. The same striking green eyes, but an odd cold rested behind them.

The figure - person - fae, fae, had scars littering up and down his skin and ungodly green eyes and a wide smile. Passion and adventure and want burned behind his eyes but it was wrong, scarily feral, scarily.. animal. 

At a closer look, he was far too old as well. A decade older than Roman, at least. Age weighed on his face in the form of crows feet and a thick mustache, the same color as his hair. It was as dark as Romans, to be sure, but colder - without the red tinting it warm.

Was this.. some fucked up joke? Was this a near death hallucination? Or maybe, maybe this was the first form of torture planned for him, a reminder of why he was here. Either way, the sight made it hard to breath.

The fae spoke first, “I’m Remus, your local fae prince.” With the word Remus sickness and the cold scent of pinewood rushed through Virgil so hard he leered. The prince of the fae, the actual fucking fae, just gave him his name. Freely, just as that.

Virgil realized what it was a second later - a show of power. A quiet, but impactful way to remind Virgil that no matter what information he had, no matter how hard he fought, he was powerless here. It made his heart sink.

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered and in the same breath he cringed from his own words. Right, no thanking them. How had he forgotten? “I’m here to offer myself to you, on one condition.” It felt incomprehensibly stupid to speak of conditions when he was on his knees.

“I love conditions!” The too-shrill voice practically squawked out, leaning one elbow on Virgil’s cane nonchalantly. “What do you want, little stormcloud?” He grinned down at Virgil, clearly awaiting his response with delight.

“.. I have a friend,” Virgil carefully avoided his name, “he is gravely injured and, though stable, will not survive winter like this. I have another friend - he is trying to make a remedy. Theres one last ingredient he needs, a flower - oleander.”

Remus gave him a look, a single eyebrow raised at him. “Stormy - can I call you stormy? - Cool, thanks. Oleanders a poison, at least to you little.. flesh beasts. I don’t think your thinking of the right flower. It’d be cool to poison him and all, but y'know - doublechecking.”

Virgil thought over the words for a second, because he knew it couldn’t be a lie - even though that was exactly what his knee-jerk reaction wanted to say. After a second, he forced, “no offense, but I trust his medical knowledge more than yours.”

“Well, if you insist,” Remus shrugged then grinned, “still, that’s all you ask for your life!? Most ask for more than that. Money, power, fame, love - and lust~, of course,” the creature wiggled his eyebrows and Virgil bit back the urge to gag. “You can ask for more, you know. A lifes worth more than a flower.”

Virgil looked up, mildly stunned by what he heard. Was Remus.. trying to help him? The thought sent a feeling of vertigo through him, but he hesitantly spoke, hand picking each word that slipped out of his mouth, “there won’t be any extra.. stipulations because of this, will there?”

“Nah! I’m just bored, you see, and I love doing those little tasks for you mortals. They always go through the same cycles. First their filled with delight and shock at their new gifts, then grief and disgust as they ask why their daughter, or lover, or brother has went.” Remus turned his head back and practically cackled through out.

“.. Alright,” Virgil knew the fae couldn’t lie, and he couldn’t find much of a loophole in the words, no matter how.. depressing. “Some money to be comfortable for the following years, good fertile land to plant on, and a hunters blessing. For my family, please.” Virgil stared down for a reason he himself didn’t quiet understand.

Remus looked down at him with a strange expression. It took Virgil a moment to process it as curiosity, but before he could comprehend that, the fae spoke. “Man, you’re weirdly humble. Don’t even want any good shit! Or just, well, shit. Do you know how many farmers have asked for good manure?” He turned his head back and laughed, before looking back down, “well, they don’t usually offer their life for it.”

Virgil turned his gaze to the side. The words weirdly burnt at his chest. It was the reminder, he realized. He wanted to go home so fucking bad. The rough dirt made his knees ache and his hands blistered against the wood he held so tight and he wanted nothing more than to step out of the mushrooms, come home, and hug his family so close he didn’t have words for it.

“Will you stop mocking me?” Virgil hissed through his teeth, fear burning in his heart at every word that slipped out of his mouth without his permission, “I just want to get sacrificied in fucking peace before I spend the rest of eternity dancing as my skin burns off and muscles rot away, and- and-” suddenly, it was hard to breath. His lungs felt tiny and air was too large to choke down.

The fae thing gave him a strange look from where he hovered over Virgil, watching him have a panic attack like he was a mildly interesting rock. After a weird long moment of that, he spoke with delight, “wow are you killing yourself by self-suffocation!? That’s so cool!” 

That startled a laugh out of Virgil’s chest, then a few awkward coughs as his body readjusted to breathing again. He stared up at Remus awkwardly. “Nobody’s had a panic attack while sacrificing themselves to you before me?” He choked out.

Remus propped his hands up on his hips. “Not until you, stormy! You’re the first,” he said without a single sense of the weight of the words. For a fae, creature known for their odd but strict manners, he was wildly impolite.

Virgil couldn’t help but cringe with it, then awkwardly bark out a few laughs. “I can’t even kill myself right, can I?” He didn’t realize what he was saying until the words came out of his mouth, and then he closed said mouth tight.

The fae was giving him another one of those peculiar looks again before continuing to speak. “Man, is this meant to be your suicide? You’re like, really bad at that then because I have no plans to kill you!” The grin was strangely warm, now.

“Look, I- I’m gonna be basically dead by the end of this anyway. No old life to get back to,” he sighed quietly, before asking, like a slight plea, “can we get this over with, now? I don’t wanna spend longer here.”

The smile dripped off Remus’s face and Virgil felt oddly guilty. “Well, if you’re so impatient, then lets get this over with, stormcloud. You know what to do to stop it. Just give me your name.” The weight of the phrase was more than ever.

Suddenly, hearing the words - Virgil realized how badly he didn’t want to get it over with. Like a desperate idiot avoiding the death he handed himself, he stalled. “What, you don’t want this to end? You having fun chit-chatting here?” He said easy as you please, tilting his head to the side. The false confidence was familiar.

That startled a laugh out of Remus, who cackled so loud and shrill that Virgil could hear the birds flee. “Wow, seems like our little stormy has himself a sharp tongue. Wonder how long that will last you.”

“Long as it takes for you to get tired of me and cut it off,” Virgil hissed through his teeth, a sly grin on his face. It felt as natural as breathing, and just as fulfilling as it. Something that he knew from memory.

He realized the memory was of Roman.

Remus didn’t notice his realization of course and continued without a single hitch, “I wonder if it will be like a lizard tail, still wriggling and writhing after I cut it out of your wordy little mouth! I mean, I’m sure I can make that happen.”

Virgil faked a gag and turned his gaze up to Remus again, “you’re real disgusting y’know, for being a fae, a creature of manners and politeness, you’re real gross. How do you even get away with your wordy little mouth?” Virgil asked, half teasing and half genuine.

“Well, manners are oh so subjective,” Remus grinned, seemingly preening with delight at this fact, “and so, with just a little bit of squirming around through loopholes and the like - you really can get away with most things.” His satisfied grin seemed to light up the clearing.

Or maybe that was the sunrise, peaking over the horizon like an unwelcome guest. Remus turned his head back to stare at it. “Oops! Looks like your time is up, my dearest storm. No more stalling~.” He turned back to Virgil. “May I have your name?”

The words carried the weight of ten thousand stones.

Virgil knew what to do though, and he spoke his name, tearing it out of his throat and soul as the sun rose along with bile in his throat and as the moon fell along with his bloody heart. He whispered the first two words that would be in his obituary, “Virgilius Sentinel.”

A coldness wrapped around him, tight and binding. It was like a promise; a cruel, sickening promise, the type that edged on threat. His body shook, lungs wheezing through breaths that couldn’t make it all the way into him. 

Even though he could still see Remus above him, staring down at him with that cruel grin and hands on his hips, he could feel his hands on his face, holding him still. They were as cold as he imagined, but not as painful.

Despite the terror, breaths slowly became easier as his body became more used to the feeling, the control, the vulnerability of it all. He adjusted to it, the world spinning around him as he learned to breath with smaller lungs. Maybe, this wouldn’t be as painful as he worried.

Right as he adjusted, though, there was a sudden burning in his chest and around his lungs. It was the kindest fire and the sweetest pain, and his lungs were aching as if he had managed to breath too much. It felt familiar; it felt like being held by warm and gentle hands. The fire chased off the cold.

As suddenly as the flame overtook him, it drew back. The feeling of being held turned to the feeling of being dropped, and the cold leapt back in as soon as the warmth left him. He shook just a little with the nauseating feelings. No matter the attempt at a fight, it was too weak.

Still, it left a small thought: something else had its own claim on him, separate from Remus’s. He silently reeled from that, but before he could think too hard he heard that barking shrilling laugh again and the world fell from under his feet.

#sanders sides #tss #ts sides #sasi #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #ts remus #ts logan #ts patton #tss fanfic

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of all Saiyans

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Check out my Masterlist on my blog! Tumblr wont let me link it in this post 🙃

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Starting 2023 off with a bang! Chapter 14 is finally here. I've also added chapter summaries to all the chapters too (on A03 only. It would take me way too long on Tumblr). Not rly sure why I never thought to add them before. As always, thank you for your patience and support for my writing. And my DM's/Comments are always open if you have any comments, questions, or concerns.

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Chapter 14

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You, Vegeta, and Raditz all ascend into the air, but once again, that earthling voices yet another one of his "concerns," or as you like to call them, unnecessary setbacks. "Hold on!" Krillin's grating voice echoes. "We're not going anywhere until one of you explains where we're going." He quickly realizes that none of you will turn around to acknowledge him. "Because we're not going on another wild goose chase with you!"

"We don't have time for this!" You throw your head back, groaning.

"Well, we have the right to know!" Krilin shouts. "Especially since Goku's injured."

"God, you insufferable human!" Raditz snaps, turning his body towards the earthlings. "We're going to Frieza's ship."

Krilins jaw drops. "Have you three gone completely insane?"

"If those Dragon balls don't work, then we're going after Frieza without them. So I want Kakarot in top shape." Vegeta remains calm, showing no sign of losing his temper. You don't like that. Whenever your brother is this collected, you know things are dire. "I refuse to put up with any weakness."

"What?" Krillin's brows raise as Gohan shifts uncomfortably, struggling to stand in place for so long with all the extra weight from helping balance his father.

Unlike Raditz, you only snap your head toward the earthlings, your deadly gaze landing on the bald one. "He's going to treat his injuries there, you moron. Now let's go!"  

"Hurry up." Vegeta chuckles. "I'm sure you don't want to find out what happens if Frieza interrupts us. And that

is, if you even make it there. Cause, by the way, my sister is looking at you. I think she'll take you out before you even have the pleasure of meeting Frieza."

Raditz shifts his gaze onto you, a smirk appearing on his lips. "I forgot how much I missed your brooding." You cringe at his fondness. Your reaction only seems to add to his amusement.

"Hey, Raditz. A little help here?" Raditz's attention shifts from you to the earthlings. They're currently struggling to fly in sync with all of Goku's extra weight. Raditz looks them up and down before scoffing.

"You and the half-breed seem more than capable of holding that nitwit on your own." Raditz howls in laughter, watching the pair almost drop his brother... again. That is until Vegeta shoots him a knowing look. Over the years, he's become far too familiar with that gut-wrenching glare. Without Raditz's aid, Gohan and Krillin finally figure out how to move concurrently. It was about time. Aren't those humans supposed to be all about teamwork? You think they'd have it down by now. You all take off, heading straight into the lion's den.

You arrive at the ship, walking down what you sure were once pristine hallways. Corpses, burnt remains, and various pieces of scattered armor decorate the halls. Vegeta sure did some damage here. "Damn, Vegeta." Your eyes light up. "You really know how to start a party." Your brother glares at you unamused before opening the door in front of him. You all enter the room, your gazes landing on the healing chamber. The earthlings look astonished while you and Raditz share a look of annoyance.

"So this is the technology you were talking about, Raditz?" He glances at the tallest Sayian uncertainly. Most likely due to the conflicting expression on Raditz's face.

"For fucks sake," Raditz mutters to himself before answering Krillin. "No. Absolutely not."

"This is going to take forever." You huff in frustration.

"Ignore them." Vegeta snarls. "They're just whining because it's an older model. It's still state-of-the-art technology, especially compared to what they have on your pitiful planet. It'll get the job done." Vegeta moves over to the control panel, starting to mess with the buttons. "Get him in the healing chamber."

Once Goku's in the healing chamber, Vegeta presses one last button to start the process of Goku's recovery. "How's it work?" Gohan presses his face against the glass, watching in awe as the water-like substance fills the chamber.

"It's far too complex for your feeble minds to comprehend. It would take years to explain the specifics to you. All you need to know is that it'll heal his wounds." Vegeta turns around, pointing at the earthlings. "Now, you two. Come with me. We'll see if we can find you something less pathetic to wear. You'll need more protection than those rags if you're going to battle Freiza."  

"You mean like armor?" Krillin asks. "Like the kind you're wearing?"

Gohan's eyes widen. "Cool---"

"And what are we supposed to do?" You narrow your eyes, placing a hand on your hip. "Keep Kakarot company?"

"Absolutely not. You two are going to check if they have any armor in your size. You're competent enough to find it on your own. And Raditz can reach all the shelves you're too lazy to fly to." You look down at your armor, assessing just how much damage you've taken. It's worse than you thought. You know you're battle with Burter caused a fair amount of damage to your armor. But it must have gotten worse when you and Raditz tossed Ginyu around. "And after Kakarot's all healed. I want you in there next!" He barks at you in typical Vegeta fashion.

"I want you in there next." You mimic your brother in a high-pitched voice the second he leaves the room. You turn to Raditz. "Come on. If we're still here when Vegeta comes back, he'll throw a fit." You both leave the room, heading back into the hall. "I can never remember, is it left or right?" You turn to Raditz, a cunning smile appearing on your lips. "You should know. You've taken far more damage than I have over the years."

"Left." Raditz grins widely as you walk down the left corridor. "You know. I haven't seen you this beat up since planet Telia." His grin turns into a sly smirk. "Those Talolians were quite pathetic, too, unlike Burter. So small and weak, and yet they almost killed you."

"It was all that runt Cado's fault." You grumble as you arrive outside of your destination. You walk through the doors with Raditz in tow.

"Of course!" Raditz chuckles playfully. "Blame Cado. When he's no longer here to defend himself."

"I was cleaning up his mess." Your eyes meet the floor as the not-so-fond memory invades your thoughts. "If that fool listened to me the first time and didn't take his infamous shortcuts, it wouldn't have happened in the first place." You look back up, staring straight into Raditz's soul. "And if my memory serves correctly, you didn't find it so amusing back then. You were practically sobbing."

"I was not crying! I'm not capable---"

"You were so scared I was gonna die. I even faked losing consciousness once or twice just to fuck with you."

"You wretched woman!" Raditz's face falls. "And to think, I almost killed Cado for that."

"Yes, I remember that well." You nod. "You're lucky I gained enough strength to stop you. If you killed the runt back then, hiding that from Vegeta would've been much more challenging." You begin searching for your armor on the lower shelves while Raditz tackles the higher ones.

"I still can't believe we got away with it for so long too."

"And if you didn't open your big mouth, Vegeta still wouldn't know." You continue searching down the row. If you can't find any armor in your size, you're going to have a problem. "Though I am surprised we were able to convince Cado from telling my brother."

"That's because Cado knew if Vegeta found out, things would not be very favorable for him. You got hurt, and it was his fault. Vegeta would have strangled Cado to death with his own tail. While it was still attached too." Raditz pulls out an armor set in your size. "Found one." He hands it to you.

"As infuriating as that runt was, I kind of miss him sometimes." Raditz raises a brow, staring at you in disbelief. "Don't get me wrong. He was weak and pathetic. But damn, was he a great source of entertainment." You place your new armor set on a bench, yanking off your old chest piece. "Remember how he would bicker with Nappa? Nappa would say the dumbest shit----"

"And that little vein on Cado's forehead would pop out,  he would yell at Nappa till his face turned red." He finishes your sentence. It's as if your brains are on the same wavelength. "Vegeta would get so mad at them. And he'd be so focused on those morons. It made it so much easier for us to get away with stuff." Raditz turns around, allowing you to remove the rest of your outfit.

You quickly slip on your new bodysuit, tapping Raditz on the shoulder. Signaling to him that he can turn back around. You sit down on the bench, putting your new boots on. Raditz moves to sit beside you, turning his head in your direction. "Y/N?" He sighs. "This isn't going to be like anything we've faced before, is it?"

"Of course not." You let out a breathy chuckle. "This is Frieza we're talking about." You slip on the last piece of your armor, your chest plate. You stand up, moving over to the mirror. Everything seems proper. You don't see any defects.

"Do you think--- Do you think we'll be able to get the dragon balls to work before we have to face Frieza?"

"No." You huff. "But you know Vegeta. He's really fixated on this whole immortality thing. And that's assuming he can even wish for such a thing."

Raditz stands up, tilting his head. "What do you mean?"

"From what I understand, if those Dragon balls are similar to the set on Earth, they have limitations. And it's possible that immortality might be one of those."

"And why haven't you told Vegeta about your little theory?"

"It's not like Vegeta would listen to me anyway." You snicker. "Now, let's go find my brother and those earthlings. They must be done by now." You both exit the room, traveling throughout the ship, searching for the others.  

After a few failed attempts, you finally manage to track them down. They're now standing outside the ship. Vegeta turns around, hearing you both approach. "Took you long enough." His gruff voice echoes.

"Where's the bald one?" Your eyes scan your surroundings, but Krillin is nowhere to be found.

"He went to go see the Grand Elder. He's going to find Dende so we can activate the Dragon Balls." Gohan answers your question way too cheery for your liking.

Raditz's face scrunches up. "What's a Dende?"

Before Gohan can answer, you speak. "It's their little Namekian friend. He must know the incantation to awaken the Dragon." You narrow your eyes at the Saiyan. "Didn't you meet him?"

"Raditz just called him that Namekian child the whole time," Gohan tells you.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's discuss the plan." Vegeta turns to Raditz. "You're going to go get the last Dragon Ball. Since you're the only one who knows its location." Raditz nods, but before he can take off, Vegeta stops him. "And, Raditz. Hurry." Raditz shoots up into the air, leaving the three of you alone.

"And what are the three of us gonna do?" You cross your arms. You better not just be sitting here the whole time. You hate waiting. You always have. And you always will.

"I'm going to go in there" He points to the ship. "And get some sleep. I can't even remember the last time I got proper rest. So the two of you will guard the Dragon Balls." You were right. He's making you wait. Again! "If either of you senses Frieza coming our way. Wake me up."

You watch Vegeta walk into the ship until you can no longer see him. Gohan turns to you, huffing. "Is he serious?"

You nod. "Deadly." You and Gohan each sit on one of the massive Dragon Balls. Gohan places his hands under his chin, sighing dramatically. "Cheer up, brat. Be thankful you don't have to deal with Vegeta and his temperament on a daily basis."

"Do you think Raditz will be back soon?" Gohan turns to you.

"He better be." You shut your eyes, returning to the anxiety-inducing silence. After a few minutes, which feels more like an eternity, your eyes snap open as you feel two power sources approaching you rapidly.

"Is that Frieza?" Gohan gasps.

"No." You shake your head. "Trust me. When you sense Frieza. You'll know it." You hop off the Dragon ball. "It matters very little who's approaching us. Get ready to fight, brat." Gohan follows your lead, standing up, and moving beside you. You both stare in the direction of the energy, anticipating the worst. You're not afraid of the beings approaching you. Their energy levels are so low that you could take them out without Gohan's assistance. You're more irritated than anything else.

The second you can see who's approaching, your posture relaxes. It's the earthling and that Namekian child. Wow, that was quicker than you anticipated. Gohan flies up to meet them halfway. "You're here!" He cheers. His joyful demeanor is making you sick. "That was quick. The last time we went to see the Grand Elder, it took much longer than that."

"Dende was already on his way to meet us. I didn't even make it halfway there by the time we bumped into each other." Krillin moves his attention onto you. "Dende, this is Y/N. She's one of the Saiyans that's going to help us fight Frieza." The word help makes you cringe. You simply have a common interest in Frieza's demise. That's all.

You wave at the Namekian, completely uninterested. You tune out the rest of their conversation, having no interest in their personal affairs. You stare off into the distance, knots forming in your stomach. "Come on, Raditz." You mumble to yourself. "Where the hell are you?"

It's been at least an hour, and your nerves have only worsened. Where the hell did Raditz hide the Dragon Ball? On another planet? You hear a large thud from behind. You quickly shift your body around, your gaze landing on Raditz. He's casually carrying the Dragon Ball under one of his arms. "Finally. You sure took your sweet time, Raditz." You groan. "I'll go wake up, Vegeta. Let's get this all over with." You want to get this whole thing done as soon as possible. Before Frieza can even catch wind of it.

You move into the ship, heading straight to the room with the healing chamber. You move closer to your brother's sleeping form. "Vegeta! Wake the fuck up!"

Your brother snaps one eye open, looking even more agitated than usual. "What did I tell you? Unless Frieza's here, you are not to wake me. And I don't sense that freak anywhere." He closes his open eye. "I know there's no possibility of Raditz and Krillin being back, either. Those weaklings are far too slow. Now stop fooling around, and get back outside. I don't want to waste any more of my energy on this."

"You're so right, big brother! Like always. My mistake." You know this isn't the time to be petty, but you simply can't help yourself. You turn around, smirking as you exit the ship. You approach the others, placing your hands on your hips, raising your voice. "Alright. Let's summon this Dragon."

Gohan turns to you, gaping like a fish. "B- But what about  Vegeta?"

"His royal pain in my ass refuses to get up. Because he just always knows best. So we'll just summon the Dragon without him. He'll come to his senses when he can feel its power." You hope the Dragon has a power level. Cause if not, Vegeta misses his chance at immortality. And he'll probably slaughter you for that.

"Alright." Krillin rubs the back of his neck, turning to Dende. "You heard her. Let's summon the Dragon."

Dende glances at Krillin before timidly walking up to the Dragon Balls. He begins to utter the incantation in his native tongue, but before he can finish, you stop him. "Wait!" He flinches, turning around to look at you. "Let's do this away from the ship. Just in case it causes any damage."

"But when we summon Shenron, nothing like that ever happens." Gohan tries to reason with you, but you refuse to budge.

"I don't know if you're blind, Gohan. Because in case you haven't noticed, those Dragon Balls are much larger than the set on Earth. I'm not willing to take the chance. So just move them, alright!" Man, for a second, you really sounded like Vegeta. That's a scary thought.

To appease you, they all work on moving the Dragon Balls to a more secluded location. It's not far from the ship. In a murderous rage, Vegeta would be able to get there in seconds. Once all the Dragon Balls are in place, Dende walks back to them. "Let's get on with it, Namekian!" You bark. "Preferably before Frieza comes to slaughter us all."

Dende holds his hands out and begins uttering the chant once again. As soon as he finishes, the orbs begin to glow. From what you remember from your book on wish orbs, this is a good sign. Next, the sky turns dark. From the earthling's reactions, you're assuming this is the same thing that happens with the Earth set as well. You shield your eyes as a blinding blast of light shoots from the Dragon Balls. Once the light dims, you look up to see the Dragon in all its glory. You've traveled all over the galaxy, yet you've never seen anything quite like this.

"Holy shit---" Raditz's jaw hits the floor. Well, that's a first. You don't think you've ever seen Raditz at a loss for words.

"He's huge. I've never seen anything this big in my life." Krillin's words are barely audible. So the Earth Dragon must be smaller. It makes sense when you think about it.

"This is Porunga. In your language, it means Dragon of Dreams." Dende announces. "I've never seen him before. This is the first time I've ever summoned him."

Before Dende can continue, the Dragon finally speaks. "You have gathered the Dragon balls and summoned me forth. Speak to me your heart's desires. As the maker of dreams, I shall grant you any three wishes within my power."

You shift your gaze rapidly onto the earthlings, furrowing your brows. "I thought you said we only get one wish!"

"T- That's how it works on Earth. Like you said, there was a chance these Dragon Balls would work differently." Krillin answers you with only minor hesitation.

"Wow! What should we wish for?" Gohan turns to Krillin.

"We save Vegeta's immortality for last since it's the one thing we're sure of." You shrug your shoulders, stepping back. "You runts can have the other two."

"Wait! Really?" Gohan and Raditz speak simultaneously, in very different tones. Gohan in shock, and Raditz in disbelief.

"I don't desire anything." You answer nonchalantly. "So go crazy. Just hurry up! Cause there's no chance in hell Frieza hasn't noticed this."

"Man," Krillin turns to Gohan. "What should we wish for first?" Without speaking, the earthlings nod at each other, seeming to come to a mutual understanding. Krillin shifts his gaze back onto Dende. "First, ask Porunga to bring all the people on Earth killed by the Saiyans back to life."

"You're really wasting a wish on something so pathetic? Those humans were a waste of space! Your friends will be no help against Frieza! In fact, they'll only get in the way." You thought they were going to wish for something helpful to aid you in your current predicament. Not to revive a few beginnings with power levels less than some of the bugs on this planet.

"You're the one who said we can have the other wishes," Gohan tells you. "And you said we can wish for whatever we want." You're regretting your decision more and more with each second that passes.

"Hey!" Raditz shouts, grabbing all your attention. "Why don't I get a wish? I'm the reason we have all seven Dragon Balls in the first place." He's not entirely wrong. It was your plan, but he's the one who executed it.

"Okay, Raditz."  You tilt your head. "What do you want to wish for?"

"Oh," He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don't know. You're kinda putting me on the spot here!" You narrow your eyes at him. Raditz is lucky you're not strangling him right now.

"So no wish for Raditz." You nod at the earthlings. "So hurry up and waste away your wishes."

Dende nods, turning back to the Dragon. "Here goes nothing." He translates Krillin's words into his own language as he speaks to the Dragon.

"That wish is beyond my power to grant. I am limited to transporting one person back from Otherworld at a time." You've never been happier to receive a limitation in your life. "Speak again your heart's desires. I can grant you any three wishes within my power."

"We can only bring one of them back?" Gohan's voice cracks.

"I knew it was too good to be true." Krillin sighs. "There's always a catch with these guys."

"What do we do? I can't choose----" You push past the humans, moving to the front.

"What's the name of your Namekian friend?"

"Dende?" Krillin furrows his brows in confusion. "Haven't you been here?"

"Not the child, you fool! The broody one from Earth."

"Piccolo?" Gohan seems as lost as ever.

"That's who you'll resurrect."

"But why Piccolo?" The idea of betraying their other allies is really clouding their judgment. Or those two fools might not be capable of critical thinking. You remember back on Earth after Nappa killed Piccolo, that his life force was connected to another. The creator of the Earth's set of Dragon Balls. So with his resurrection, the Earth Dragon Balls should come back too. Bringing back Piccolo first should just be common sense to them. How have they survived this long? Kakarot---- for a moment, you forgot about that neanderthal.

"Because he's the least pathetic out of all your friends." He's the only one of them that could actually be useful to you. Reviving him is the perfect contingency plan for when things go wrong here. Cause you know they will.

"I- I don't know. Could we really just---" You cut Gohan off, mid-emotional brake down.

"Dende!" You bark, "Tell the Dragon to resurrect Piccolo. Now!" Dende stares at you, dumbstruck. "Do not make me ask again!"  The young Namekian nods furiously, turning back to the Dragon.

As Dende translates the phrase, the two earthlings look at you. "I thought you said it was our wish?"

"It is your wish. I made the hard decision for you. You two would have wasted all our time if I didn't."

"Very well." The Dragon speaks. "Your first wish has been granted."

Gohan turns to Krillin. "What should we wish----"

"Gohan! Can you hear me?"

"Piccolo? How are you---"

"I'm speaking to you telepathically through King Kai."

You tug on Raditz, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Who the hell is King Kai?" Raditz just shrugs. He seems to be just as lost as you are.

"Use your second wish to transport me directly to your location on Namek. I'm eager for battle and want to take it all out on Frieza. The very bastard responsible for the slaughtering of my people. Summon me right away. Do you understand?" So the Namekian is suicidal. Even if Piccolo spent every waking second training in Otherworld, he's still no match for Frieza. Though, you do need all the help you can get. Well, there's another wish down the drain. "And Y/N? The others weren't too thrilled with your decision."

"Oh, no! How will I ever survive?" The sarcasm in your voice is impossible to miss.

"Well, that was until I explained to them how Earth's Dragon Balls return with me. But I'm sure you knew that already didn't you? I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad you're with them." You scoff. "Don't get me wrong. After Frieza is taken care of, you and that brother of yours are next."

"Alright." Gohan nods. "We understand. See you soon, Piccolo!" He moves his focus onto Dende. "Tell him to transport the guy he just brought back to life here, on Namek."

An all too familiar chill runs down your spine, your mouth becoming as dry as a bone. You stare off into the distance, your eyes fixating on the dreadfully familiar power level. You'd recognize it anywhere. That's Frieza, for sure. "Y/N---- Raditz?" Krillin speaks up, breaking you out of your trance. You didn't even notice that Raditz noticed him too. "What are you guys---- ahhhh!" Krillin's eyes go wide as he finally senses Frieza. "Dende, you better hurry with that wish! I've never felt power like that  before." He gulps nervously.

Dende nods rapidly before saying something in Namekian. Then there's some sort of commotion, but you can't seem to focus on it. You are far too focused on the direction of Frieza. So hyper-focused that you don't even pick up on Vegeta's energy rapidly incoming.

Twenty-Something Years Ago:

"Oof." You gasp as your body slams back against the training room's cold ground.

"Come on, Y/N." Frieza's grating voice invades your ears. "You're going to have to do better than that." You spring to your feet, launching yourself at the frost demon again. Before your fist can even make contact, he grabs your wrist. "So pathetic. My lowest level soldiers could hold their own better." He flings your small frame against the wall with ease. "I'm beginning to think all these training sessions are a waste of my time. It's been several months, and you've barely improved. From what I know about Saiyans, you should be much stronger than this by now."

You shakily stand back up, barely able to keep your balance. These past few months have been hell. When those goons told you, Frieza wanted you to get stronger. You never thought that Frieza would be the one overseeing your training. From what you remember, your father was always adamant about how Lord Frieza never does his own dirty work. So why is he making an exception with you? "Look at you." He tisks, shaking his head. "You know I'm not one to admit when I'm wrong. But I think I'll make an exception this time. I thought you were far more capable---" Before he can continue to degrade you, you strike. Finally, landing a blow on his smug face. You used so much force that his whole head turned to the side.

Frieza brings a hand up to his face, wiping off some of the blood that's oozing down his cheek. He looks at his hand, chuckling to himself. You stand in front of him, frozen in fear. "That's enough for today." He shoots a ball of energy at you, knocking you unconscious. "Zarbon!" He shouts out into the hall. "Get that other Saiyan brat!"

Raditz scampers into the room, unwilling to meet Frieza's gaze. "Take her to the healing chamber." Raditz nods, picking you up, holding you in his arms. He hates seeing you like this. He's supposed to protect you, but from where he's standing, it seems to be the other way around. He hates feeling this powerless. He hates that there's nothing he can do for you. Frieza's just too strong, far stronger than he ever imagined. His power is out of this world. All his instincts are screaming at him to attack Freiza, but Raditz is prideful, not stupid. He knows acting rashly would not help. In fact, it would probably make your situation worse. He returns to his senses, exiting the room as fast as he can, wanting to get you fixed up as soon as possible.

Frieza walks out into the hallway where Zarbon is waiting for him. "My, Lord, your face!"

"It's nothing to worry about, Zarbon." Frieza pauses, making sure Raditz is out of his sight before continuing.  

"I've decided tomorrow we'll reunite Y/N and Vegeta."

"But, my Lord, I thought you said her training was lackluster? You said it would take years before you'd even consider letting her fight for the Frieza Force."

"My mind has changed, Zarbon." He moves his hand back up to his face, wiping off the rest of the fresh blood. "When she hit me, it actually hurt." Frieza would have never calculated that you were one step ahead of him the whole time. Every time he would train you, you'd only fight with half your strength. So he'd never know how strong you've truly become. You want him to underestimate you. It's the only advantage you have.

"Y/N?" Raditz places a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright? You're--- You're shaking." You snap back to your senses, looking down at your hands. He's right. Your entire body is quivering like a child. You are acting so pathetic.

"I---" You take a deep breath. "I'm fine." You look around, refamiliarizing yourself with your surroundings. "Where's the Namekian?"

Raditz scoffs. "The kid messed up the wish. He's somewhere else on Namek."

"Hey!" You hear your brother shout. "Are you finally going to acknowledge me?" When the hell did Vegeta get here? You swear you didn't notice him before. He walks over to you. "Why the hell didn't you wake me up? You know what's at stake here!"

"I tried." You pout. "But you shooed me away."

"Well, you should have tried harder! Now we're all---" Mid rant, you cut your brother off.

"Relax. This Dragon, unlike the Earth one, grants three wishes. I told the earthlings they could have the other two. Don't worry---- I made sure to save the last one for you. I'm not an imbecile Vegeta."

"But----" He stares at you in shock. "Why didn't you wish for immortality yourself? Like we planned."

"Just the two of us having to spend all of eternity together? No, thanks. Trust me, the rest of my mortal life is plenty misery for the both of us. And after this, we can always come back and make me and Raditz immortal too."

"You still want to spend the rest of eternity with me?" Raditz's interest has peaked. After everything, you still want him by your side. He can't believe it.  

"Of course. If it's just my brother and me, I'd end up losing my mind."

"Ugh, guys--- Can we hurry up." Krillin interrupts. "I don't like how close Frieza's getting."

"You!" Vegeta shouts, stalking toward Dende. "Hurry up and make the wish!" Dende shakes in fear. "Are you deaf? Do you not understand our circumstances? Frieza will be here any second!" Vegeta grabs him by the collar, holding him up in the air.

"Vegeta, stop!" Gohan shouts. "You're scaring him!"

'He should be scared. The most powerful being in our universe is coming to slaughter us! Make the wish, brat!"

"Speak your final wish. Now!" You can't decide who's more impatient. Vegeta or the Dragon.

"You're testing my patience! Tell this thing to grant me immortality! Now!" You change your mind. Vegeta is definitely more impatient.

"Dende, grant the wish!" Krillin speaks up. "I know Vegeta's evil. But compared to this Frieza guy---- he's a saint. It's our only chance of survival!"

"Okay, okay." Vegeta throws the young Namekian to the ground.

"About time you came to your senses." You're sure your brother is doing a whole super-villain monologue in his subconscious right now. You can practically hear his maniacal laughter. Dende begins to translate Vegeta's wish to Porunga. Once this wish is granted, you'll feel safe for the first time since you were a small child back on planet Vegeta. It'll all finally be over.

Once Dende finishes the translation, something different happens from the previous times. The Dragon begins to fade. That can't be good. Then the Dragon howls, almost like he's in pain. A blinding light flashes from the Dragon, similar to how it was when he first appeared. After a few seconds, you regain your sight. Only to see the Dragon Balls fall to the ground, but now they're made of stone.

"What the hell?" You walk over to one of the spears, running your hand along it. Yep, it's definitely stone. You move your gaze back to Dende. "What just happened?"

Dende falls to the ground, landing on his knees. His eyes, brimming with tears. "The Grand Elder. The Grand Elder  has passed out of this world." Shit. That means----- fuck. None of you stand a chance against Frieza now.

"You're lying. You just don't want me to get my wish!"

"No." You shake your head. "The Dragon balls only exist as long as their creator does, Vegeta. Remember?"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fucking shit!" Raditz sticks his hands in his hair as he begins to hyperventilate.

"Raditz." You place your hands on his shoulders, turning him toward you. "Calm down."

"Calm down? How the hell can I calm down? We're all going to fucking die!" You take your hand, slapping him across the face. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his cheek with his hand. He seems to have come back to his senses. "Thanks." Now that you have dealt with Raditz's meltdown, you have a much more terrifying issue to deal with. An enraged Vegeta.

"This is all your fault!" Vegeta shouts, making his way to you. "If you behaved like an adult for once in your life and ensured I got my wish, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"I'm the one who can't act like an adult? You're the one throwing a temper tantrum over a wish! And if I knew the old guy was gonna kick the bucket, I would have made sure your immortality was our first wish!" You turn to the earthlings. "Why the hell did neither of you think to mention that the Grand Elder was dying?" They both jump at your screaming. "Do you two morons ever use your brains?" This is the vicious cycle of blaming everyone but yourself. And taking zero responsibility for your own actions. You and Vegeta have far more in common than you'd care to admit.  

And to only make matters worse, you can now see Frieza in the distance approaching you rather than just sensing him. "Y/N." Vegeta turns to you. "Go back to the ship."

"What? That's bullshit!"

"Do not argue with me."

"Is this because of my injury? It's almost entirely healed."

"Almost is not good enough!" Vegeta snaps at you.

"You need me! Even with my ailment, I'm still more powerful than the three runts, and Raditz combined!"

"Y/N," He sighs. "Please---- before it's too late for you to leave." You give in, nodding. "Once you've been healed, you can fight to your heart's content, alright." You take off in the direction of the ship just in the nick of time. This goes against every one of your morals. Saiyans don't run away from battle. Even when they're no match for their opponent. Some would say it was stubbornness, but nothing is more important than a Saiyans pride.

-

How will Vegeta and the others hold their own against Frieza? Will Y/N even listen to Vegeta's orders? And when will Goku be healed? Find out in the next chapter of The Princess of All Saiyans.

#goku x reader #dragon ball x reader #dbz x reader #dbz fanfiction #saiyan reader #vegeta's sister #son goku x reader #dragon ball fanfiction #goku #the princess of all sayians

[marmeegle]

today i worked on draft 3 and its first chapter. is the best one yet, actually. im very, very happy with it <3 to the point where i could spend the last two hours of my day writing but i wont because im just. so satisfied with it

it's all coming together >:3

you should go read draft 2 tho its free on a03

and if you prefer tumblr, the pinned post on @goldenholi has allll the chapters

isnt she cute,,,don't you wanna know her story,,,

#self promo

[pepperwebsblog]

Gah I thought I could schedule posts on A03 but that's not a thing, so next Love Letters Chapter (Chapter 6, I just posted Chapter 5) wont be out next Friday but will be uploaded Sunday 28th April instead.

I'm on my holidays and wont have internet so will need to upload when I'm back in the country.

It's only 2 extra days, should be okay. I'm as excited to post these chapters as I know some readers are to read them so I hope it's okay.

#my fics #love letters fic #pepper chats

[doomed-era]

ok i posted the new chapter of gboh to a03 but i cant make a proper post yet (doing volunteer stuff today and i need to leave wont be back for six hours. sigh)

#AAAAA

[comvi]

OK my story thing. background player. is a fanfic (LIsTEN, A03 WAs THE ONLY sITE I HEARD OF TO POsT sTORIEs. I DID NOT KNOW IT HAD TO BE FANFIC!!) yeah turns out it has to have a fandom . so i just made it rainworld since why not thats like already half of the story. Anyway its about my oc the whisperer...i havae a image hold on:

yeahthem. They grew up (and lived on) an island in the sky with they're mom. there was NO DANGERAT ALL, everyone just ate the same boring blue fruit. Whenever he would ask about anything else everyone in town and his own mom (they're inter gender btw call them whatevre.) told him small stories about whats below but other then that JACK sHIT. his dads dead which leaves a lot of questions since he does NOT look normal and his mom looks nothing like him. One day they decide "im bored up here, i wanna see whats below" so they hop down with they're notebook, a knife, and 2 pencils. thats kinda it. He looks weird from his dipped ears and tail with weird circles on it (wink wink) TURNs OUT EVERYTHING DOWN HERE WANTs TO EAT EACHOTHER, and has no civil-thingys like he did at home!! so he has to find a way back!! the creatures down here might know what his dad looked like, and he wants info to write and draw down. In chapter one "A new day" he nearly dies from a cyan lizard but lives. He later finds a scavenger fucking murdering a lizard and saves it. He had heard the rain falling below in the sky. But now he has to see it himself. And boy, he knows nothing.

OOOOHHhh im looking. looking very hard… totally dont send me a link haha i totally wont look at it once i finish playing a bit of rainworld haha. (please send it to me if you’d like…. i will definitely take a look once im a bit more familiar with [LORE]. !!!!!!!!!)

#wink wink why are we winking. wink wink. “”””;3 sweatinf profusely…this is about purpl liz i know but. I DONT… wink wink #asks #myposts

[navitravis]

Read my Fan-fiction! Out now

Make sure to check out my avatar fanfiction based of Aonung and Neteyam. Long chapters posted daily, since i have nothing better to do. I know you wont regret reading it, and if you do i owe you a cookie. Chapter two the meteor shower was just posted on my a03 account @NaviTravis and its called "Lovely Heart" Aounung and Neteyam go to a celebration and tensions rise. Let me know what you think in the comments if you do go read it, okay thats all from me. -NaviTravis https://archiveofourown.org/works/46055026/chapters/115931083

#avatar #avatar way of water #aonung #neteyam #aonung x neteyam #fanfiction #a03 fanfic #newrelease #avatar2 #tsireya #tonowari x ronal #loak x tsireya #kiri #navi #pandora #lovestory #malexmale #gay boys #neteyamneedsahug #smut #angst #fluff #awow #awow neteyam

[kiliinstinct]

Ask a fanfic writer:

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

And...go!

Questions for Fic Writers

5: I honestly have noooo idea. Maybe less questions asked and more people picking up on the details/foreshadowing in drop in Flame's Desire. (like barely anyone commented on the flower wreath thing i did in the recent chapters - and then some thats more spoilery so i wont mention)

41: all right.. but it's Genshin Impact related, you've been warned!

It's got reincarnation tropes. Beautiful writing. beautiful emotions that really made me feel and is just.. suuuuch a good story. I definitely wish I could write like this.

45: Pretty sure its my dialogue and the way characters interact with each other

48: its another genshin impact fic and I regret nothing. you brought this upon yourself.

And yes, I recommend it. It's cute. and the mc's are asexual (and its part of the plot.) so of course I love it.

50: Honestly I just wanna be able to sit back and write for an entire day without doing anything else. And I think I'm going to make some time for that once I finish moving next week. See just how far I'm able to go during that time. Also, question for those reading this post.. should I... post on here any genshin fics if/when I put them to a03?

#kili answers #genevere #is the brainrot in genshin strong? #yes it is #do i apologize for that? #absolutely not

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Eighteen

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Previous Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Posted First On A03 Here 

It’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always Read Safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Notes: Gonna aim for at least a chapter a week now. I still have a lot planned for this silly au o'mine

Chapter 18: Encounter

     “Ki-” Edas voice was barely audible above the crashing of waves, the boom of thunder and his own wails.

       No

      No

      No

      No

      He wasn’t supposed to do this. This hurts people. He was hurting them. He only wanted to hurt the woman who had stabbed Hunter.

      His screaming slowly became sobbing, which only made the storm stronger. Kings breath hitched as he cried. He was breaking the Talon. He was killing them. He had to stop. 

      The captain's quarters was already engulfed in water, King darted out into the sea. He was a strong swimmer if he just got away- then his storm would follow him.

      King fumbled to get the stupid shoes on his feet off- before they were used to hide his finned toes but now they were only in the way.

      “No no-off.” King cried trying to get the things off.

      He looked up above at the water glowing in the light of lightning. The water was swirling around him, trying to pull the ships down to his depth.

      “No!” King sobbed. “No stop!”

      What if they all died because of him.

      “Stop! No more!” King hiccuped. “No more!”

      He was only powering the storm more in his panic. Was only making things worse. He couldn’t stop it. There was no stopping it.

      “Why are you crying?” A young but loud voice asked.

      King looked around trying to spot whatever other creature was down here with him.

      “You’re the one doing this?” The young voice continued. “Why are you doing it if it makes you sad?”

      “It’s not on purpose.” King sobbed looking back up to the storm above. “It- It wont stop.”

      “Oh!” The young voice replied. “Do you want help?”       “Yes! Can you stop it!” King looked around trying to spot the speaker.

      In the darkness of the ocean King could make out a pair of large yellow and red eyes glowing and staring up at him. 

      “Well- no” The voice continued, the eyes looking away for a brief moment. “But I can help. If you care about those humans so much.”

      “I do!” King called. “I care about them more than anything!”

      “I see.” The eyes looked up to the storm, King could make out the large silhouette of the figure. A large sea serpent of some kind. “There’s an island nearby. I’ll direct the waves that way but I can’t stop your storm, only you can do that.”

      “H-how?”

      “I don’t know.” The voice giggled. “How would I know?”

      “Right.” King hiccuped looking up at the storm. It was already beginning to calm down, because King was beginning to calm down. He just needed to breathe.

      “Breath in little King.” Camillas memory echoed in his head.

      King followed the breathing technique the woman had taught him. Closing his eyes and focusing in on the water coming into his gills and then back out.

      “See!” The voice cheered. “I knew you could do it!”       King opened his eyes to see the scene above him. The ships had been ramed together and pieces of them were diving down into the darkness below. There was no saving those ships.

      “Now I’ll just direct the tide!” The voice explained.

      King felt their movement before he saw it. The large sea serpent darted right next to him, their head the size of him as they came next to him and their eyes glowed brighter.

      King could feel the pull of the ocean.

      “There we go!” The serpent chuckled- but their mouth did not move as they spoke.

      They were large, and long. Half a yellow color and half a blue. They grinned showing off large teeth and their little whiskers floated around as they turned towards King.

      “They’ll be okay now!” The serpent spoke without their mouth again. “What’s your name?”

      “King.” 

      “Oh that’s a pretty on point name for a royal siren.” The serpent giggled. 

      “Royal siren?” King repeated.

      “Oh please, like you don’t know.” The serpent swam around as if playing in the water. “No other sirens can control storms like the royal sirens.”

      “What- Are you?”

      “A sea dragon.” The serpent chuckled. “You should know that too, after all we’re pretty similar you and I.”

      “How?”

      “Both hunted by the man of bones.” The serpent paused looking down at King. “Treating us like tools.”

      “The man of bones?”

      “You really don’t know?” The dragon realized. “The man of bones that hunted us all down. Why do you think there’s so few of us left? Don’t worry though, I’m going to kill him. I have a friend who is helping me.”

      “He hunted us down?” King looked down at his little hands, the fins between his fingers long since formed as he had hit the water. He played with them, extending his fingers to look at them as if they were more interesting.

      It made sense, Eda had found him all alone.

      “Yeah, he doesn’t need to breathe and the water doesn’t really affect him.” The dragon scowled. “I hate him so much, he’s so mean. But my friend is helping me come up with a plan to kill him.”

      “Your friend?” King looked up at the dragon.

      “Oh! I’m supposed to meet him back at his home.” The dragon looked away and then back to King. “I’m sorry little siren! I’d love to talk with you more but I need to go.”

      “Thank you.” King called as the dragon swam away at an incredible speed.

      King took to following the tide to find this island.

-------

       The sunlight was warm on her skin. As she inhaled water engulfed her once again. Willow flipped over coughing and gagging as she escaped the waves and crawled forward. Her lungs burned as she threw up the sea water.

      She groggily looked around at the beach she was on.

      What happened?     

      The storm and the attack suddenly came back to her and Willow pushed herself up.

      She couldn’t have been the only one to survive.

      Everyone else had to be safe too.

      She couldn’t accept it if they all died.

      She stumbled a bit trying to find her footing but her limbs were heavy. She didn’t have choice so she pushed forward along the beach. She had to find someone else, anyone else. 

      They had to be okay.

      Her stomach turned as she saw a body on the shore face down. She recognized Perry and slowly approached. She took an inhale before pulling the body up along the beach before she willed herself to check for a pulse.

      He was alive.

      Willow let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. There was hope she wasn’t the only survivor. She had to hope the others were all okay too.

      “Willow?” A voice made Willow look ahead to see Emira stumbling towards her. “Willow!” She said again, crashing into the girl with a hug. 

      “Emira.” Willow hugged her back. 

      “Is he?” Emira pulled back looking down at Perry. 

      “Alive.” Willow nodded. “Alive”

      “We have to find everyone.” Emira sighed. “They all need to be okay.”

      “We’re the owl pirates.” Willow reminded. “They’ll be okay.” She assured.

      Though she didn’t know if she believed it herself.

      Working together the two girls carried Perry further up the island. Under a tree where they propped him up so he could more easily breath or cough if there was anymore water in his lungs, but they had done a pretty good job getting some out. He just wasn’t waking up.

      “Okay,” Willow sighed looking around. “We probably should think about supplies.” 

      “What about the others?” Emira asked.

      “We’ll have to worry about that later.” Willow looked towards the sun to see it a little after noon. “We’re useless if we go and die on them. It’s best to find shelter, food and possibly good water.” She listed off. 

      If she was entirely honest with herself she felt guilty not instantly looking for the others, and as much as she wanted too to. She knew that wasn’t going to work out right now. They needed to survive before anything else.

       “Good point.” Emira sighed standing and dusting herself off- though it was a pointless thing as sand still clung to her. “We should stick together at least.” She looked down at Perry again. “What do we do about him?”

      “We’ll have to carry him.” Willow decided.

      “Right-” Emira grimaced. “You’re stronger I think I take your sword and if something attacks us you can drag him away.” 

      Willow hadn’t noticed Emira was missing her sword- that was a shame she just bought the new one. Willow nodded it sounded like a good plan. She handed the sword sheath to Emira and the girl fastened it around her waste before helping Willow pick up Perry to carry the man by his shoulders into the forest.

      Food, Shelter, and Water.

      That couldn’t be to hard this island seemed large.

-----

     “Would you stop whining.” Amity snapped looking back at her brother who was tailing behind her through the forest. She used the small dagger to cut through the vines. She counted herself lucky Luz had suggested she keep a knife on herself in case she ever lost her sword. She had thought it silly before- who would lose their sword- but Luz always was good at being prepared.

      “What if we starve Amity” Edric whined fumbling after her getting hit in the face by a branch Amity had ducked under. “OW”

      “Honestly why are you being annoying.” Amity sighed looking back at Edric. She knew her brother well enough he was just being dramatic as he rubbed his face where the branch slapped.

      “I am not annoying.” Edric whined.

      “You’re going to alert all the beasts on the island.” She remarked, still moving forward. They needed to find shelter before dark- or at the very least make shelter.

      Edric grumbled something under his breath but followed after Amity without hesitation. Amity had a sneaking suspicion Edric was just looking for an excuse to be whiny. It had been building up for a while now with Emira getting rid of her matching sword from him and then him being awfully stingy about everything on ship. The shipwreck was probably just him venting- in some unhealthy manner.

      “Would you at least make yourself useful.” Amity snapped back as her brother was still grumbling about something- truthfully she stopped listening.

      Edric shot her a glare as Amity looked back at him, but pulled out his sword to lead the way instead through the far to thick plant life.

      “Thank you.” Amity crossed her arms not daring to let go of her dagger in this place.

      A loud growl made her look around.

      They really needed to find shelter.

      “I think you’re right about the beasts on the island.” Edric whispered now much quieter.

      Good he was less of a headache this way.

      They made their way much quieter now. Keeping an eye and ear out for any possible danger. It wasn’t long before they stumbled upon an orange tree and decided this is where they would camp out. At the very least just for tonight. They worked together to make a somewhat tarp out of leaves and things to protect themselves at night if it rained.

      Edric may be annoying, but he was very resourceful when it came to survival. They had a very good start for a night at least, of shelter and food. They just needed some clean water, but Edric was already looking for some river or pond while he left Amity at their camp alone.

      She was finalizing and fortifying their little camp to be sure they could rest easy.

      Though she still had a feeling something was out there watching them.

-------

      Hooty flew high in the sky to see over the treetops on the island. The size of the island was intimidating when trying to find ones crew. He would have to fly for hours in order to find anyone else. 

      He swooped back down to perch on Liliths shoulder. She was walking with Gilbert along the shore but Hooty hadn’t spotted anyone nearby.

      “Islands to big.” Hooty informed. “Can’t spot anyone nearby. I think they might’ve gone into the forest.”

      “That’s probably what we should do.” Giblert sighed looking to the trees. “You sure no one was on the shore.”

      “I checked three times. No one else was near enough for me to see.” Hooty chirped.

      “You did great Hootsifer.” Lilith pet his head. “Come along Gilbert, lets get to searching.”

------

      His head was throbbing but he managed to pull himself up onto the rocky shore. Gus looked up to see the cliffs towering far above him. There was probably a way out of this cavern. There wouldn’t be anyway to survive here.

      He went to walk but stumbled. His whole body was sore. At least he hadn’t hit the rocks with too much force, but still any force was enough to hurt. 

      He limped using the cliffside as leverage as he walked. He could see the sky above and the ocean outward but the cliffs seemed to go on forever. 

      At least if his vision had been right he wasn’t going to die here.

      He let out a pathetic laugh as he slide down to sit on the ground. He was absolutely bruised everywhere but he did not want to check to be sure.

      He needed food, water, and shelter.

      That should be his first priority.

      But he just wanted to sleep right here.

      “Gus?”

      Gus lifted his head to see Matt carrying an armful of rations- rations from the ship- had he found?

      “Get up and help me asshole.” Matt stated walking into a cave.

      Gus stumbled up and limped over to the entrance to see Matt saving supplies from a crate that had been caught between a few rocks in the stream. He was fishing out some water and food.

      “Look at you lucky bitch.” Gus chuckled, stumbling over and sitting down to help Matt pull stuff out.

      Matt paushed and Gus looked over at him to see Matt staring at him.

      “You could’ve said you were hurt.” Matt commented.

      “I’m fine.” Gus waved it off.

      “Agustus you’re bleeding.” Matt snapped.

      Gus looked down at his leg and sure enough blood was soaking it. Oh he had cut his leg on a rock. He thought it was just a bruise.

      “Haha, would you look at that.” Gus felt like vomiting just looking at his leg. Sure, pirates faced worse than just a cut to the leg- even if this one was deep- and long-  and Gus was pretty good at avoiding injuries- but that’s the life of a pirate isn’t it.

      “Agustus!” Matt scolded. “At least take care of yourself damnit” Matt pulled off his headband- which was soaking wet- and wrapped it around Gus’s leg applying pressure.

      Gus wasn’t sure how to react as Matt kept scolding him while wrapping it tight around his leg. 

      “I’ll kill you if you think you can die out here on me.” Matt glared looking up at Gus.

      Gus was probably an idiot for thinking he looked cute angry about this.

      He gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

      Matt only pouted and went back to pulling things out of the waterlogged crate, saving what he could. When Gus went to help again he got scolded to lean against the cave wall and not to move.

      And Gus couldn’t really argue with the angry short boy.

      He actually spent the time to look around the cave from his little resting point. They were only at the entrance of it from the looks of it as the tunnel extended further ahead. It seemed to be the only direction to go unless the two boys could scale the cliffside- which neither were probably capable. 

      It was a funny thought to think of Luz doing it- she would find a way if anyone could- it was Luz afterall.

      Gus looked back at Matt as he was creating a makeshift bag out of a tarp to hold the supplies he had recovered. They would be able to find the others- hopefully. At the very least they both would survive and Hunter too as his visions were rarely wrong. Though once in a while he did take action to change them- and sometimes it worked- other times it seemed fate had a funny way of going about the same result anyway.

      So the one he saw of him and Matt was probably going to happen.

      Gus could only hope it wasn’t too soon he didn’t think he could handle it.

      “Why are you smiling like that?” Matt twisted his nose in disgust.

      He hadn’t realized he had been.

      He coughed turning away, suddenly feeling a lot warmer than before.

      “Just thinking-” He explained hoping Matt would drop it.

      “About what?” Matt asked.

      Gus shrugged. Most the time he could be smooth but right now he couldn’t come up with a reasoning. 

      “We’re stranded on an island, don’t know if anyone else is alive, your leg is cut open, and you’re smiling.” Matt scoffed. “Only Augustus Porter would have a reason to smile right now.”

      That did make him feel a little guilty.

      “We’re the owl pirates.” Gus shrugged with a smile glancing back at Matt. “I think it’s going to take more than a shipwreck to knock us out.”

      “Sure, but still- someone could be hurt.” Matt looked down at the supplies, avoiding eye contact the way he usually did when he was worried.

      “You’re not wrong.” Gus sighed. “I’m just trying to stay optimistic. Not think about the possibilities too much.”

      Matt nodded in agreement, still looking down as he slung the tarp of supplies over his shoulder. It truthfully looked rather silly to see the scrawny small boy lifting the bigger sack.

      “Okay we should get moving.” Matt looked towards the tunnel then back at Gus with furrowed brows. “Can you walk?”

      “Yeah-” Gus pushed himself to his feet and like his leg stung in defiance. He stumbled his way forward- slowly but forward.

      Matt was doing a poor job in acting like he wasn’t worried as he slowed his pace to match Gus’s and stayed close by in case Gus needed someone to lean on. Gus wasn’t about to use him to lean on when Matt was already struggling with the supplies.

      The light from outside was slowly getting dim as they went further in. Gus stopped when it was getting too dark to see further ahead. No light source to explore the cave meant they couldn’t go forward.

      “Now what.” Matt sighed trying to squint into the darkness- which was a pointless thing really.

      “We go back.” Gus shrugged. “Try to find another way around.”

      “Wait.” Matt pointed ahead and Gus followed his finger. There was a hint of a light source ahead, but it was a great distance and moving about in a dark unknown cave was practically a death wish.

      “We can’t-” Gus started.

      “What about your eyes glowing?” Matt looked up at Gus with a raised brow. 

      “That- I can’t control that- it’s only when I’m seeing.” Gus gestured. “I can’t exactly see the present when I’m doing that.”

      “But you controlled it with Amity.” Matt stated.

      “I am not using it on you to become your torch.” Gus folded his arms. “I can’t control what I see when I do it and I have already seen too much for my liking.”

      Matt let out a sigh and nodded. “Okay- Just a thought.”

      They had just been fighting about the fact Gus had a vision about Matt. Why was he now wanting to use his stupid visions as a light of all things.

      “I just want to get out of here.” Matt mumbled.

      Oh, right. 

      Did his eyes really glow brightly enough to use a torch? How had people around him never noticed his visions happening? Maybe people were just stupid.

      “I- I can’t promise not to see something you don’t want me to.” Gus stated.

      “I know that.” Matt looked up at Gus with the unspoken question of ‘is this too uncomfortable for you.’

      The answer was yes- but it was survival- and Gus was worried also.

      If he saw Matts death he was going to have a full on break down.

      He held out his hand. 

      “I wont see anything here.” Gus explained. “Hearing is- also difficult. Just tap my shoulder, and lead me. My leg also might-”

      “I get it.” Matt grabbed Gus hand in his own, Gus debated on leaning on the boy so his leg did not cause issues- but again- Matt was carrying all the supplies as well-

      Gus took a deep breath.

      and focused on Matts hand in his.

      Which was surprisingly very distracting. 

      “Well?” Matt asked.

      “It’s not easy.” Gus defended. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Even if Matt was okay with whatever Gus saw- it still felt very guilty.

       Then he opened them back up.

      Usually his visions were short bursts as they happened in moments, but when concentrating and taking his time it truly felt like he was in the vision itself.

      A younger Matt stood on the docks dressed in a navy uniform. He was standing at attention as the ship docked into the harbor. He watched with big eyes as the ship started to unload and waited at the bottom. For something- for someone.

     Gus watched the navymen come off the ship and phase through Gus as if he wasn’t there- because he wasn’t. They all avoided stepping on the little Matt who was crossing his arms with the pout on the face he got- when he was hiding the urge to cry.

      Gus wanted to hug him.

      “Matt.” Steves voice made Gus turn back to the ship. Steve looked wrong in the navy uniform- as if he never quite fit there in the first place. Steve hugged Matt.

      Only then did little Matt start crying.

      The world blurred in a rush as the memory faded and Gus found himself standing back on the Talon. When was this memory? It felt cruel seeing the Talon in one piece again after everything that just happened.

      But fate had always been quite crue to Gus anyway.

      “What are you doing?” Luz made the memory Matt jump as she approuched behind him.

      Matt was up a level above the main deck watching the crew before she had jumpscared him.

      “I’m not doing anything!” Matt snapped back at her before looking back down. He was sitting in the shadow barely visible from below.

      “You know- instead of watching him- you can talk to him.” Luz suggested with one of her signature smirking eyebrow raises.

      Gus looked to see who they were talking about. Only to see himself talking to Willow- and did he always look like that from a distance? It was always weird to see himself in visions- mainly memories as he gestured and posed a lot more than he realized.

      “He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Matt mumbled.

      “Ah please Gus thinks you’re great.” Luz elbowed Matt who scooted away from her with a glare.

      How long ago was this memory?

      “I treated him like dirt when we first met.” Matt scowled looking back down to memory Gus.

      “Nah- I mean you’re not as bad as when Amity joined the -” Luz started.

      “You say that a lot.” Matt interrupted. “Besides just because I’m not as bad as someone else doesn’t justify anything.”

      “Okay- you got a point.” Luz put a hand on Matt's shoulder and Gus snorted at the way the boy shot her the dirtiest look until she took it off. “Look, if you want to fix things with Gus. The best way is to talk to him. Communication is key for any friendship.”

      “Whatever.” Matt stood leaving Luz alone.

      However Matt walked down the stairs making his way to Gus.

      “Agustus.” Matt said, holding his hand out. Gus had forgotten Matt had only use to ever call him by his full name. Now it was only when he was upset at Gus or scolding him in a serious way.

      Memory Gus turned to look at Matt with a questioning expression before his eyes fell on Matts hand and recognition dance his features. 

      “Mattholomue.” He smiled back shaking Matts hand.

      Gus had missed Matt’s cheeks reddening the first time he’d been in this memory.

      Had missed the way Matt stuttered and looked away like he did when he was flustered.

      It was adorable.

      Once again the memory faded in a swirl.

      The dazzling lights greeted Gus first and he recognised the Hexside night. A performer was using their magical item to make the room appear to be under the stars. It had been one of Gus’s favorites to watch.

      The crew of the Talon were sitting at one of the front tables. The one they usually sat at right in the middle of everything. Everyone was watching the performance with wide eyes. Gus could see himself with sparkling eyes letting out a tiny squeal of excitement. 

      Then Gus saw Matt looking up at the lights as well, and then he looked at Gus. Watching how Gus reacted to the show and started to whisper about how amazing it was without looking away from the performance.

      Matts little smile as he watched Gus was something Gus had missed in the moment.

      Apparently he missed a lot of things in the moment.

      “That was incredible!” Memory Gus rambled as they walked back from Hexside to the Talon. “The music, the lights, the dance.” He gestured dramatically, reenacting a bit of it. “This is why I love Hexside nights.”

      “It was very pretty.” Luz agreed. 

      Matt was straggling behind everyone but keeping an eye on Gus- which apparently he did often. He titled his head as Gus went on to ramble about the other performances and perhaps a plan for his own.

      Gus never actually did get to perform at Hexside- he should make a point to do that if they ever get to go back.

      “Sure is happy isn’t he?” Steve leaned down next to Matt to whisper.

      Matt froze his entire face going red. “Shut up!” He whisper yelled and looked back at the others to make sure they couldn’t witness Steve teasing him.

      “Relax, they’re loud.” Seve patted Matts shoulder. “You should go for it.”

      Matt only looked away avoiding his brother's gaze. “Shut up.” He repeated, marching forward to escape his brother and avoid the others.

      The things Gus wishes he noticed more often. He knew the boy got flustered around him- and it was nice- he just had always assumed Matt wasn’t sure of his feelings. Was always worried Matt would hate the idea of crushing on Gus.

      It made him think of the other vision he had of the boy. The one not in the past but the present. 

      He felt hot again.

      The memory faded and Gus was really beginning to wonder how much he was going to see before Matt tapped his shoulder. He could still feel his body walking and being led by Matt, but he wasn’t sure how fast these visions were going by. They always seemed to have a funny sense of time.

      The sobbing hit his ears first.

      The room was dark and Matt was sitting in med bay. It was night but Steve wasn’t in the room like usual. Everyone knew Matt and Steve slept in the medbay when it wasn’t really being used. Who could blame them for wanting actual beds?

      Matt had his legs curled in on himself as he usually did when he cried. Always making himself as small as possible and hiding his face.

     “Matt?” He said it aloud- which he knew wasn’t how visions worked. This memory would play out how it did.

      Matt only remained on the bed wrapped under a blanket.

      Gus squeezed onto the real Matt's hands that were leading him.

      Real Matt squeezed back but Gus knew the boy had no idea what he was seeing.

      The door swung open in the med bay and Steve walked in holding plates of food.

      “Okay, you want to talk?” Steve asked, putting the food next to Matt and sitting on the bed with him.

      “No.” Matt grumbled not looking up.

      “It’s only going to explode later if you don’t talk about it.” Steve pointed out looking at his own plate of food but he didn’t seem all too interested in eating it.

      “I’m just stupid.” Matt complained. “I can’t do anything right. I keep screwing things up.”

      “What happened?”

      “I- I-” Matt sniffled and peeked his eyes up to look at Steve and then back down. “I’m stupid.” His breath hiccuped.

      “Well that’s not right-” Steve started.

      Gus could feel a tap on his shoulder.

      But he wanted to see why Matt was upset.

      “I tried-” Matt started lifting his head to look at the wall and gesture with his hands at himself. “I keep trying- and I keep-”

      Another tap on his shoulder.

      Come on Matt spit it out.

      “Yeah? “ Steve raised a brow. “You actually said something? Not just hinting?”

      The tapping was getting more persistent now.

      He knew that Matt must be talking about him? Maybe? He didn’t remember hurting him here? Did he say something? Not notice something?

      “I dunno- I don’t think he’s-”

      The tapping was very urgent, almost like it was an emergency.

      Gus let the vision fade and came to.

      The teal light was the first thing Gus saw. The moss here was glowing giving off a bright light in the cave. Matt was looking up at him with both his hands on his and looked as if he was scared for a moment, before covering it up. 

      “Did you not feel-” Matt started. “Right, I should’ve tapped better.”

      Gus didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast looking down at the boy in the teal lighting. Well- he sorta did- but it was so much worse now. 

      He avoided looking at Matt to study his surroundings now. 

      The cave opened up wider and the teal moss wasn’t the only light source, there was a large hole where sunlight was peaking through, but it was high up and neither boy could make that climb.

      So they were still stuck.

      “So what you see?” Matt asked.

      Right- owed him that it was his memories- maybe not all the details as it was too embarrassing to say ‘oh yeah just was looking back at us hanging out and admiring how cute you are.’

      “Uhm.” Gus couldn’t look at Matt. Which was stupid. He already was having issues from the other vision he had about the boy. The one in teal lighting- 

      Oh no, Gus was not going to be ready for that.

      “Well-” His face was burning but he managed to look back at Matt for a second to see him looking concerned. Any person would be feeling like their privacy was invaded.

      “When you joined the navy-” Gus started not able to keep eye contact with Matt. “Steve hugged you.” He tried to return to his normal demeanor but it was hard when he was feeling awfully hot. “When you and I started being friends- uhm- A Hexside night- and -” He paused, unsure what the last one was really about and his only theory of it being about something he did. “That’s it.” He lied.

      “Wow, we weren’t walking that long.” Matt stated. “At least it wasn’t anything embarrassing.” 

      Gus could only look at the glowing moss. They were either going to be down here a while- or return here- or maybe they’ll take some of the moss back and that's where the teal light in his other vision came from.  

      Gus winced as his leg shot pain when he went to walk forward. Throughout all the flusteredness he had forgotten about his stupid cut.

      “You should sit down.” Matt instructed setting the supplies down not far from the hole above. “I don’t think we can get out here anyway.” 

      “Yeah- I think we might be here a while.” Gus agreed, trying hard not to think about what he saw during that little storm. It had been a brief moment so he didn’t remember a lot of details in the speed and shock of the whole thing.

      He didn’t think he was ready to talk about that with Matt. He was already having a hard time just thinking about it. Chapter 19 Tumblr Link

#Mine #My Writing #the owl house #Toh #the owl house pirate au #the owl house au #toh au #toh fic #mine #toh #toh hunter #toh luz #toh pirate au #the owl house pirate #pirate fic #pirate au

[thetrashywritingwitch]

is ao3 active? ive wanted to write a bnha fic for a while but feel it wont get any attention since i missed the hype stage of it

uh a03 is literally the most active + engaging + largest fanfic website out there. literally millions of stories for every fandom imaginable. i usually get like... 30+ avg comments a chapter? except for ch 34/35 and a few others... where everyone yelled at me all at once 😂 but YES! also, the quality of writing is just... better. most adults read and write on a03 vs being mostly teenagers. of course, not all of it is top shelf shit, but much more of it is higher quality than on tumblr or wattpad or anywhere else. if you aren't posting on a03, you're missing out on a huge fanbase that don't bother reading fic on other websites

[theirishwolfhound]

Wassup! Max here! Welcome to my blog! Below the cut is more about me as well as the things that you can find in this sin-bin, and some more art! Most of the stuff in here is Call of Duty related so do with that what you will. :)

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Just a few warnings before we continue: This is an 18+ blog which means I'd like to say: MDNI, I don't really write PG things and would like to keep people safe.

-ABOUT ME-

Basics: -I am a 23 year old trans man from the US. -Retail Worker :( -I am a polyamorous queer :) -Hobby Artist/Writer: all art seen on this page is mine unless stated otherwise. -Non Religious Furry

Fun Facts: -Allergic to living at this point (Birch Pollen Foods) -Working on a CoD cosplay :D -Big Sleep Token fan (I will die if I see them in concert) -Big opera fan too

-ABOUT THIS BLOG-

-As stated before this is a blog that is not for the eyes of anyone under the age of 18, I'd like to keep any interactions with minors to a minimum. -For the sake of other readers, I will put content warnings on all of my posts dealing with certain topics that are either: NSFW or have topics that some people don't want to read (ie. dark fics, religion, sensitive subjects). Otherwise it will state if its SFW or lacking of content that needs warning. -I'm an OC creator, but can write for trans/cis-male or gender neutral readers. I won't write female readers, love y'all but there's already so many good ones out there compared to the boys. :) -I write relatively long chapters, some being a little over 5k and some nearing 20k words. I personally don't like breaking them up because I write up until a certain point. But the word count will always be with the content warnings and summaries. -Currently just a Call of Duty fic/art blog, but if anyone is interested in other things I am so ready to write things involving: Dragon Age, Skyrim, Monsters, D&D, ect.

See the end of the post for things that I might write versus what I wont.

MASTERLIST

headcanons

headcanons

headcanons

headcanons

-Introduction A Heart Of Gold in a Sea Of Green (OC) -Synopsis -Milk and Sugar -Bruises and Bitemarks

EXTRAS

I want to make more mutuals on here but I'm so awkward and don't know how to start conversations, but I welcome people to my asks or DMs. :) If I were to say what my vibes are as a person it would be something like this:

So far this is all I have, it will be updated as I post more, but I am also just really busy to post often :)

Will Write/Draw: -NSFW/Dark Fics -Omegaverse -Petplay/Hybrids -Violence -Anything to involve Recreational Drugs

Won’t Write/Draw: -Beastiality -Underage/Pedophilla -Ageplay -Fetishization of Identities

#blog warnings #blog info #masterlist #cod fanfic #my art #oc blog #oc x canon #call of duty oc #trans writers #trans artist

[candlelitmassacre]

Meet the Author 🌸

Age: 24 Name: Niamh (N-eev) Nationality: British  Where do you publish/where can readers find you?: I’m on A03 @candlelit_massacre, but am in the process of re-doing/tidying up all my old fics. I hope to start posting again around the new year. How long does it take you to write a fic?: Anywhere from a weekend to months! It depends on how challenging I find the subject matter. I think the longest I ever spent on a fic was 2 years  Do you have a favourite fanfic trope?: Probably the ‘Oh no we have seconds to live, should we fuck, now seems like a good time to fuck’ one. It just keeps getting funnier every time I see it. Do you have a writing routine?: I like to write in the afternoons on my day off. It all comes out in one big gust, or it doesn’t come out at all. So I sit down with a hot drink,  put on a ‘Disney oldies in another room’ playlist for horror, or just rain sounds open my docs up and feel it out.  Where do you get your research from for fic writing?: If a quick google wont do it, I try jstor. That’s rarely necessary tbh. And of course, rewatching/reading the original source material   What inspires you?: besides the source material I like drawing from dungeons and dragons sessions, books I’ve read, music I like, Pinterest, my best friends advice… anywhere really Which fandoms do you write for?: Hannigram :) Do you share your fics with your friends and family?: I do lol, my dad has read the entirety of Therefore, God Spare Him except for the smut chapters. I gave him a list of which chapters to skip… What do you think makes a good fan fiction?: care for the characters and attention to details, plus a healthy dose of tropes of course! Do you have any writing tips?: Basic I’m afraid but the more you write the better you will get at it. And don’t be afraid to write fanfics in a ‘fanfic style’, using “chuckled” and “growled” etc.! I don’t care what anyone says, it’s a genre and an acceptable style, do what makes you happy. 

#meet the author #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic author #fanfics #fanfic writing #hannibal #hannibal fic #hannibal nbc #hannigram

[greenflamedwriter]

I can't believe a03 is down! I was JUST about to finish my series KISS HER NOT ME. I was two chapters away from ending it.

THIS is why I don't finish stories, my work either disapears or this crap happens.

But yeah the servors are being flooded and ao3 is being held ransom by cryptocoin jackasses.

They claim its a lgbt hate crime, but that could be BS.

Also WEIRD how this is happebed just 'after' ai scanned a03 for it's learning model, and that amazon prime kindle sale is on today as well. Oddly sus.

Any enough of the conspiracy theories. At least I have tumblr to post, so when a03 is down I'll be here, when Tumblr is gone, I'll be on fanfiction.net, wattpad no matter what I'm STILL going to write.

...I just probably wont finish them. But ugh this sucks.

And I didn't back up my stories ;^; so all of that is gone! I want to cry.

#a03 #archive of my own #ddos attack