#actively sobbing and laughing at that snippet

[zhangyulian]

PAINT ME RED WITH YOUR BLUE - snippet

Inspired by listening to 2step - Ed Sheeran

Hey guys! I wanted to share a snippet of a work to y’all fellow Avatar fans. :)

This is an idea for a story I’m working on RN. It will be from Spider’s POV for the most part, pre-recom capture.

Time was supposed to make pain easier to deal with. At least, that’s what he was told by all the adults around him when he asked them their opinions on how to deal with painful situations. It seemed like a harmless question any child growing up into teenage-hood would ask, but in all reality Spider was trying to find a way to stop the constant aches festering in his chest, a place where bandages and medicinal pastes couldn’t reach. The older he got, the more conscious he became of where these pangs of hurt, guilt, jealousy, and the turmoil of emotions came from, yet, he masked them with smiles and laughs when he entered the world of Eywa’eveng, unwilling to taint her beautiful planet with his sorrows. Especially when he was around his best friends, he wouldn’t let moments where he knew he couldn’t participate in certain activities get to him because he was human. And the son of an enemy. Despite how accepting the rest of the Omaticaya had become of his presence in their village, there were certain people who always reminded him of who and what he was.

Someone who had been left behind by those who were supposed to care for him, abandoned on a planet that would kill him.

A place where he wasn’t necessary.

A burden.

Unwanted.

Coming to terms with that resulted in restless nights of silent sobbing. Those days he refused to leave his room in the shack, instead turning to the little trinkets he kept from his friends he considered family—the bow and armbands Neteyam helped him make when he declared Spider a part of their family, the wooden carvings he and Lo’ak worked on together on his tenth birthday to mark them both as best bros, bracelets and anklets from Kiri proclaiming him being the brother she never had, an intricately weaved blanket gifted from Mo’at to ensure he never slept cold. During these days, Norm and Max left him food outside his door every day in respect to his privacy. It was the least they could offer him. The gesture helped to ebb away the rawness in his throat and pounding in his head. They were the only things that grounded the human boy. He was not a child of anyone alive by blood or relation—he knew that was too much to wish for. But the acknowledgement of his presence by these people was enough for him to get over the turmoil that plagued his mind before he steeled himself to enter Eywa’s world again.

With each passing day, a small voice in his head asks him how much longer he could sustain himself like this? He was too afraid to answer it back, fearing the acknowledgement of the truth.

When the humans returned, the days into his late teenage years blurred together into a mix of adrenaline, fear, and uncertainty. War brought on a whole new layer of complicated emotions Spider couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He helped where he could with prepping the war party, helping Norm and Max and the other scientists with any equipment they bring back to the lab, wanting to make himself useful and keep his mind occupied. That he could do.

Seal the mask tighter, make sure nothing leaked out from underneath the smiles and laughs. Everything was going to be okay. Even if it wasn’t.

#avatar #avatar twow #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #thewayofwater #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #lo’ak #kiri te suli kìreysì'ite #kiri sully #norm spellman #max patel #miles soccoro #spider x neteyam #mo’at #avatar mo’at #omaticaya clan #nocorro

[corvusalbus93]

WIP Reunion (Tech&Phee)

Okay, writing the reunion between Tech and some of the others in Mt. Tantiss is taking longer than expected, but I am working on it.

In the meantime, a draft/snippet about him seeing Phee again during the invasion of Mt. Tantiss, which might occur in season 3:

...

Tech’s fingers danced swiftly across the keyboard, his eyes glued to the screens in front of him. The months of work had paid off; access to every system in Mt. Tantiss. He closed another few doors, continuing to divide Imperial forces, before kicking out someone trying to regain control of the base and continued to reprogram various security measures.

He briefly scanned the map and spotted a large number of Imperial troopers trapped. Hesitating for a moment, he decided to release Hemlock’s toxin. It wouldn’t kill them, but knock them out for quite a while.

Admittedly, he couldn’t have achieved this without help, some from unexpected places, but he was grateful that besides Omega, Crosshair was once again by his side. He didn’t know what exactly had happened to his brother, but he had changed. But that was a conversation for another time, if his brother was willing to share.

Ah, another attempt to wrestle back control. Tech cut off the terminal entirely, denying them access. It would probably be wise to shut several of them down or simple invalidate all official login details, to avoid any more disruptions.

The only people he had granted access were the invaders, clone troopers led by none other than Rex. He’d seen him on the camera feed and Omega had all but shouted, when Hunter and Wrecker had appeared on screen. Until a few moments ago, she had been in charge of watching the feed, allowing him to focus on hacking into the system, but both Omega and Crosshair had gone to check on activity in the corridor.

He hadn’t heard any blaster fire from the door, which was a good sign, but a few voices, which made him suspect that some clones had already made it to their position. Efficient for regs, he would give them that.

Tech stopped typing, upon hearing someone run towards him and not Omega by the sound of it. Had something happened after all? Suddenly worried, Tech turned around, a hand going to the blaster Crosshair had taken from a Commando he’d neutralized on their way here...

...just in time to see Phee.

Tech froze as their eyes met, not knowing what to say. What was she doing here, wearing what appeared to be modified clone trooper armour?

Meanwhile, she stopped only a step or two away from him, visibly trembling. Phee was torn between laughing and sobbing, somehow ending up doing both at the same time, a hand covering her mouth. All he could do was stare, wanting to speak, but unable to find the right words.

“So,” she eventually managed to say after taking a deep breath, wiping tears from her eyes. “You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Tech winced. The same words she’d spoken what felt like a lifetime ago on Pabu. During his imprisonment Tech had gone through their last conversation several times, attempting to find the correct response he had clearly failed to give, regretting how they had parted ways. Aware that it could have been their final conversation. His throat felt dry, but he finally found his voice again. “My apologies; that was inconsiderate of me.”

Phee laughed for real this time, despite the tears that were still coming and closed the distance. With a knee on his hover chair’s armrest, she embraced him.

...

To be continued

#the bad batch #bad batch #tbb tech #the bad batch tech #phee genoa #techphee

[noficbyhalves]

I was scrolling the Altaïr tag when I came across your wip snippet with Malik and the magic cell phone and im so curious and also just really love the way you wrote him and I'm dying to see more <3

Congrats friend on activating my single remaining spoon in order to mostly finish this scene (it would've been real nice if it did that for something useful, like cleaning the bathroom, but here we are). Have some more Malik al-Sayf, Disaster Wizard (and Altair not-yet-ibn-La'Ahad, being a Completely Different kind of disaster):

It was muscle memory more than anything that dragged Altair out of the dungeons and up the stairs. He didn't know what would have happened if he encountered anyone on the way there. By the time he got to the room, his heart was pounding so loud he could barely hear his own footsteps.

Malik's repeated trials had shown that the room only worked if it could make your thoughts into a place, but the only thought in Altair's head was MalikMalikMalik. A door appeared anyway. It occurred to him, when his hand was already on the handle, that there might have been something specific he was supposed to have asked for that he had forgotten entirely. With no other options and his heart rabbiting wildly, he pushed the door open.

The room inside was surprisingly large, and gave the impression of being half hideout, half library. There was a cot in the corner, and a long low table off to one side, positively covered in open tomes and piles of notes and diagrams. In the middle of it all was Malik, wand tucked behind his ear, scowling at a book heavy enough to be a weapon. His face was doing that twitching thing it sometimes did when he was focusing very intently. He looked gaunt, Altair realized, haggard and tired, the bags under his eyes large enough to swallow the sun. How had he not noticed earlier? The thought sunk like a stone.

[...]

Altair shoved back the hood of the cloak, trying to form a barely-adequate apology for the days-long delay. When he glanced back at Malik, the smile creeping across his face made Altair's chest ache. It softened the harsh lines of his brow and made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Not a brilliant, bright-eyed, look-at-this-shit grin, but a quiet, gentle smile. The kind of smile he associated with late nights and starry skies, the feeling that they were the only two people in the world.

Altair pulled Malik into a crushing hug, making him squawk in mild surprise, mostly to prevent himself from doing anything stupid (like kissing him on the mouth). The solid, grounding pressure of Malik's arm curling around his back was an added bonus. If Altair was struggling not to cling to him the feeling was at least mutual.

"Altair?" Malik said. Altair didn't even know how to answer. He clutched Malik tighter, hoping to communicate the tangled nest of emotions churning in his chest. Malik let him – always let him – hugging him back just as fiercely and waited for him to untangle his thoughts. 

"My summer was horrible," he finally mumbled into Malik's shoulder, when the silence became unbearable.

Malik made a noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Really? I couldn't tell."

All of Altair's words seemed caught in his throat. I miss you. I need you. I lo- "I should've gone back with you," he croaked.

"We're not doing should'ves," Malik said, squeezing him once more before slowly pulling back. "Only way out is through, and all that rot."

The only way out had – up until that point – looked like painful, horrible death, but Altair chose not to mention that.

"Speaking of," Malik said, gesturing to the portion of the room behind Altair, "we should probably get started."

When he turned, he startled at the giant sprawling runic design taking up the other half of the space. He had no idea how he had missed it. (He knew exactly how he had missed it.) The whole thing could easily have spanned his grandfather's gilded dining table twice over, made up of swirls and eddies of finger-length runes that even creeped up the walls a good few feet. Altair had no earthly idea what most of the individual symbols meant, much less why some were chalked and some were painted and some were carved into the stone. Suddenly the exhaustion on Malik's face made a horrifying amount of sense.

"What? I- what is that?"

"Somewhere between my magnum opus and my sleep paralysis demon," Malik commented dryly. "I'm calling it a Sanctumancy Rig."

#skies au #wip #altmal #everything is fine #they are Coping (TM) #altair ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #assassins creed #assassin's creed #i forgot those are two separate tags thanks i hate it #words that mean things

[thewizardpoliceareafterme]

here's my tier list of the pirate101 worlds and also thoughts about them/why they are ranked this way.

long post incoming and also spoilers for the whole game basically! you've been warned

--

S tier;

Marleybone- this is my absolute favorite world in the game! To see the consequences of our actions unfold was such an amazing experience. When I entered the world for the first time after being told by the NPC that it was, "an active warzone." I thought, how bad could it be?

it was, indeed, bad. I remember my awe looking at all the destruction and hearing the blast of the beachhead cannons for the first time scared me so bad. Only one thought crossed my mind, "we fucked up."

Overall the whole world is awesome! The aesthetic, the plot, catbeard being catbeard, bishop my beloved, Bonnie's promo, and just everything! The only bone I have to pick is that I wish it was longer.

Also the soundtrack is top tier, the skyway theme is on a permanent loop in my wizard101 darkmoor manor.

-+-

A tier;

Cool Ranch- definitely my second favorite world! I understand people don't like the length, but personally, I wasn't bothered by it at all. The two filler arcs were actually super fun.

Atmosphere was top tier, story was awesome, we get El Toro 🎺🎺, and funny puns to which I'm easily amused by

I wish the skyways were not super long; the world definitely would have gone down a tier if there was no Uber. I'd physically start sobbing if the Uber costed crowns.

Best ost is the haunted saloon theme with the piano. It is also played in my darkmoor manor, the spooky vibes are indeed immaculate.

--

Valencia- This world would have been S tier if it wasn't for part two dragging it down. The first part was awesome and I just overall love the steampunk aesthetic.

The music is awesome and it's just overall a great experience. The Kane fight was awesome and the cutscene at the end of the game was such a surprise! It spooked me a bit from the overall unexpectedness.

However, part two is indeed rushed and it makes me long for what it could have been. Nonetheless, I try to appreciate the good parts and for what we got.

-+-

B tier;

Skull Island- The OG world, an enjoyable experience.

It is, however, in B tier due to it being more of a prologue. It's definitely not a bad thing and does an awesome job for what it is.

Ratbeard's questline was the best part!

The Isle of Doom felt like a bit of a drag, however.

--

Monquista- It is good for what it is, and I liked the civil war aspect. The world building for the religion there was also super interesting. However, the world is very short and the skyways are long.

The visuals were awesome, I loved the pink sky and just the overall stark difference from Skull Island- a good fit for the first world. It was also quite hilarious how small the doors and stuff were, which, of course, makes sense- but the thought of how the Young Pirate fits through them along with the crew is so funny to think about.

-+-

C tier;

Mooshu- This world was very beautiful and interesting, don't get me wrong. It was a definite step above Wizard Mooshu and did everything right.

The jokes were hilarious, I laughed for a solid minute at the "Threaten the Chicken" and when that one guy died.

However, there are two main reasons why this world is placed how it is.

The reasons go hand-in-hand. Marleybone is the world directly after it and I've heard SO MUCH about how good it was, how it was awesome, and stuff. Because of this, Mooshu felt like a drag because I couldn't wait to get to Marleybone- my hype was uncontained so Mooshu felt like a brick wall that I had to climb.

I wish I could have enjoyed it more, but if I ever play through Pirate again, I will feel the same way due to how good Marleybone is.

-+-

D tier;

Aquilla- Aquilla, Aquilla, Aquilla, oh where do I start.

I loved the concept of it, to finally go visit the world only seen in snippets in Wizard. However, there was no original content whatsoever. It was all just retellings of famous stories.

Now, some are fine, but when it's the exact same thing every time with nothing new it gets old extremely fast.

It definitely does not help that Aquilla comes after the most solid world in the game, Marleybone. It felt like a drag I had to go through till I could finally finish the game.

Also it was very much a defeat-and-collect quest hell.

The best part of Aquilla was Hawkules, who I very much enjoyed. He is awesome, but not much is done with him. This isn't Aquilla's fault though, as Valencia part two rushed to the finish line.

-+-

Miscellaneous;

Dragonspyre- While this world is in the D tier, it's there because I couldn't add another tier. I wish Avernus skyway could have been expanded upon as I love crossovers between Pirate and Wizard, it makes the Spiral feel so much more fleshed out and 3D. Alas, we did not get much.

---

Spiral Skyways- The skyways you have to travel to get to different worlds were awesome! The scenery is so beautiful and it just gives me so many thoughts about lore and how things work on the spiral: breathing in "space," how ships float in the sky, differences between fish that can fly and water fish biological wise, windstones, where did the stones come from, and so much more!!

I love pondering the games lore so much ajajeoekcorncn

-+-

That is all! Hope you enjoyed it. I am open to civil debate/conversation about these topics if anyone is interested btw.

#pirate101 #p101 #spoiler alert! #dunno if this is interesting content #too bad #rambling incoming #long post #if there are grammar errors no there's not #i love lore so much aaaahhhh

[eruden-writes]

deep fic writer asks (3 of 4)

I’m answering 5 questions at a time from this list by soft4hardthings.  (The ones I answered before will be copy-pasted when they come up.) 

11. Has a fic you’ve written ever caused issues/controversy?

There’s things I’ve written that I’m not super proud of writing. I’m not super ashamed, either. They’re just evidence of the growth I had to do as a person.

When I was a teen, I wrote BB x Rae fanfic, with heavy Terra bashing. (Ironically, in the same fic, someone got mad at me for letting teenage Robin and Cyborg drink alcohol.)

Also had a fixation on yaoi pairings, which probably meant bashing female characters at times. (Welcome to early 2000s queer-kids-who-didn’t-know-they-were-queer with a helping of internalized misogyny.)

In my early 20s, I wrote Amon x Korra fanfic. I have conflicted feelings about the pairing, nowadays, but it was the pairing and community that helped reignite my passion for writing.

Fanfic that I felt contributed to a problem in society, I’ve removed from the sites if I still had access to it. But I still have my removed fanfics so I can look back on it.

12. What’s your perfect environment to create/write?

For drawing, I like to listen to audiobooks or YouTube videos.

For writing, I like to wear my headphones and just type. Sometimes with music of some sort, but most times I like silence.

Home is the best environment, but I haven’t tried elsewhere lately.

13. Do you take pride in your writing, or does it embarrass you? Why?

Both? lol

I enjoy creating and I’m happy when readers like my characters or the emotions I get them to feel or certain plot points.

BUT

Some of my older stuff can be problematic or cringey. While I’m somewhat embarrassed by it, I still like it, since it’s a snapshot of my life and I know I’ve improved - both as a writer and generally as a person - since then.

14. Do you compare yourself to other writers? In a positive or negative way?

Other writers’ work definitely inspires me, but I’m content in my own skills and know I have my particular voice for writing.

Artists can inspire me to work on certain aspects of my own skills. And there’s a lot in this method of creating I need to work on, anyway.

I’m a total fail at marketing my creations, but I’m trying to improve that.

So, yes, I suppose I compare myself to other creators on various levels, but I use it for examples of where I can improve, rather than tearing myself down.

15. How do you think your writing has improved over time?

I have writing from when I was 13. So pretty much everything. 😂

Consistent tense, correct spelling, pacing, description, plot, realistic characters, editing, and more.

Like this is a snippet of one of my first fanfics, dated 2003 (when I was 13:)

I was sitting at home...me vs. writer's block... my Voices are playing Uno. I'm bored so I watch them play for a little bit.

"UNO!" shouted Joker, who had two cards but placed one behind the other so it looked like he had one.

"You do NOT have one Joker! I saw you! You had two!" shouted Flaunt, using her whiny childish voice on him. A fight goes out between all the voices, except for Outcast (and Anti whose sleeping) who doesn't care one way or another who wins... she just throws her cards into a deck and leaves, knowing the game is now ruined. She decides to try and help me with a story. How nice of her.

"What about another Inu trooth or dare one?"

"No...i don' really want to since i still have my first one still going. What if i try a love story?" I asked.

"Kinda mooshy don' ya' think?"

I sigh, agree that isn't the way I think and look back to Life who's decided to beat-up Joker for cheating, since HIS girl asked him to. Outcast followed my look and sighed. She was the only one who found out about my crush...except for my readers. ^^

“I'll just doodle a little." I sigh. I'm a bit depressed, but then my day changes from depressed to joyous. There was a knock on the door downstairs, I rush down and there is Rimiko, the creator of Inu standing before me. I just stand there like an idiot with eyes wide open and my mouth agape. She hands me a notepad and tells me she'll be away on a business trip so I have to take care of Inuyasha and his friends(and enemies)! She leaves with a smile on her face. Then the Inu chracters, Inu, Kagome, Shippou, Miroku, Sango, Kohaku, Kouga, Naraku, Kikyo, Kaede, Souta, Sessy, Rin, Jakken, and Kirara, file into my house a little sullenly.

Like it was technically an Inuyasha fanfic, but it was actually a romance story about how me and Life got together. Heaped with pick-me bitch vibes and internalized misogyny and reader participation, among other things.

The Voices, of which Life was apart of, are a whole thing of their own and I can explain that if anyone is interested. lol

#answered #writeblr #creative writing #exophilia #deep fic writer asks #actively sobbing and laughing at that snippet

[shini--chan]

I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.

And a good idea it is, my dear anon.

Yandere Allies – Feindling America

You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.

And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.

There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.

He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.

Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.

Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.

He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.

Canada

Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.

“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.

You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.

“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.

“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”

Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.

Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.

With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.

China

A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.

After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.

“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.

You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.

He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”

“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”

Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.

Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.

England

“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.

“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.

“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”

She snorted and grabbed his hand.

“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”

Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.

“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.

“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”

“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”

Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.

During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.

France

Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.

Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:

“What happened, ma cherie?”

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.

Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?

Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”

Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,

Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.

However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.

Russia

The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.

Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.

“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.

“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.

She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”

“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”

“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”

She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.

“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”

“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”

Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.

That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.

#yandere hetalia #yandere allies #yandere america #yandere england #yandere russia #yandere canada #yandere china #yandere france

[deniigi]

I love the fic you showed on Luke, Han, Chewie being kidnapped by the trio- I would love to see more! Is there a chance we might see that fic or sections of it? I hope you are having a great day!

You may see more sections of it! It’s like 30k because I have zero self control sometimes, so idk if I will post the whole thing, but snippets I can do!

I wrote a fuckin’ hilarious bit where Han tells Paz that Luke’s got a crush on Din. Paz thinks about Din’s sexuality for .05 seconds and immediately has an anxiety attack that Din feels like he’s got to hide his queerness.

He brings it up with Din, who promptly astral projects in embarrassment.

--------------

This was a reconnaissance mission now. One which Luke was again having fun on. With Djarin refusing to speak to his comrade, Luke wriggled right into the place he’d left behind and started agitating again. He goaded Djarin and Fett that he could shave hours off the current course time. Han and Chewie hung back and strategically did not back up a damn thing he said.

Paz, uncomfortable to be on any ship that was not his own, clutched at his fingers and watched Luke chasing Djarin like an underfoot puppy in concern.

“What does he want from Din?” he asked Han and Chewie quietly.

Han blinked slowly.

“He’s got a crush,” he said.

Paz’s helmet managed to blanch.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Yeah, your boy’s ticking every one of Luke’s boxes, I’m afraid,” Han said while Chewie snickered. “He’s already decided on a destination wedding.”

Paz rubbed a few knuckles under the edge of his helmet and looked away.

“I dunno if the Armorer’s gonna be cool with that,” he said.

Han snorted.

“Armor isn’t strong enough for him, he’s got mind powers,” he said.

Paz’s helmet turned slightly back towards him.

“The Armorer is Din’s parent,” he said. “She leads the teachings at our covert.”

AHA. Orthodox. Han had it now. Djarin was a preacher’s son.

“I don’t know what that means,” Paz said.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Han told him sympathetically. “It’s okay, though. People are more tolerant than you think.”

“I still don’t know what that means,” Paz repeated.

“You will,” Han soothed, “You will.”

--

 It was an hour before Paz blurted out, “Wait you mean he’s gay?” and Han almost cried, he was laughing so hard.

--

 This was supposed to be a hostage situation, but Paz was making this trip a pleasure cruise. He’d gotten about fourteen thousand times more awkward around both Luke and Djarin anytime they passed by. Luke had caught onto this with interest.

Han did nothing to stop him. He and Chewie finally had entertainment after hours and hours of torture.

Paz inched away.

“I’m happy for you,” he told Luke. “It’s fine.”

Luke cocked his head at him and got closer.

“No, man. Not me, sorry,” Paz said. “You got—you got Din. He’s—well, honestly the last I saw him he was like, fifteen and sort of scrawny, but you know he’s probably grown a couple muscles by now.”

Luke lit up.

“I know, he picked me up,” he said.

Paz vibrated.

“Mm-hm,” he said.

“Do you think he likes me?” Luke asked him.

Paz vibrated so hard his armor nearly started knocking against itself.

“He’s really into ancient Tusken shit,” he said. “Ask him about ancient Tusken shit.”

Luke’s eyes couldn’t get any wider or rounder. Any more of this and his pupils would start dilating, too.

“Copy that,” he said, then vanished.

Chewie whimpered and wiped tears from his eyes. Han leaned into his side and grinned so wide his face hurt.

--

 Luke took to flattening himself against the cockpit door and serenading Djarin in the other side with pleas for information about Ancient Tusken culture. Djarin was understandable baffled. He smelled a rat and refused to be forthcoming with any new knowledge.

That made Luke caterwaul louder until Fett had enough of him and locked Djarin out of the cockpit too, with instructions to ‘silence the Jedi before I do permanently.’

Djarin was now stuck out here with the rest of them. He crouched in front of Luke and they had a staring contest for a good two minutes before Djarin got up and sighed.

“You have so much energy,” he said. “No wonder Grogu likes you.”

Luke rocketed up to stand next to him proudly.

“I don’t sleep most nights,” he said.

Djarin studied him.

“I see that,” he said.

“Han and Leia say that I’m a ‘hostile’ bedpartner when I do,” Luke said with finger quotes for Djarin’s benefit.

Djarin, Han swore, was trying to think of a polite way to say, ‘Sir, I think you’re at breaking point.’ But instead he said, ‘do you like tea?’ to which Luke said, ‘absolutely not.’ Djarin told him that he had a great tea for him to try and was thereafter followed into the Falcon’s kitchenette around the corner.

Paz, in the meantime, was absolutely shitting himself. No longer able to avoid this conversation with Djarin.

“I think it’s cute,” Han goaded with Chewie nudging his ribs the whole time.

“The Armorer will not approve,” Paz insisted.

--

 Djarin had done the impossible: he’d put Luke to sleep. He delicately removed the mug of (possible sleep medication) tea from Luke’s unconscious deathgrip and asked Han where the used dishware went. That was thoughtful. Han told him to just stick it any damn place around the sink and he or Chewie would get to it.

He did and then came back to settle in next to Paz. Paz visibly experienced a rainbow of emotions. Djarin didn’t notice a single one of them. Instead, he crossed his legs and held the orange tips of one hand in the orange tips of the other.

“I wanted to apologize, Paz,” he said. “After what you’ve sacrificed for me and the kid, I should have been more grateful.”

“D—don’t mention it,” Paz stammered. “It’s—it’s the Way.”

“It is the Way,” Djarin agreed. “I think I was afraid of how to face all of you afterwards.”

Han could hear Paz’s internal scream from here.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll bet you, uh, did. It—it wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Djarin sat up a little straighter.

“No. How did you know?” he asked.

Paz shivered.

“Just a feeling,” he said. “You know, uh. Din. You don’t have to be ashamed of anything, right? You’re—you’re like my little brother. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or anyone say anything to you. Okay?”

Awwwwwwwww.

Djarin looked up into Paz’s visor.

“Are you sick?” he asked.

“What? No. I’m. I’m saying, that if you ever had something you wanted to tell me, or you know, any of us. We’re always here to listen,” Paz said. “And to support you.”

Djarin’s silver helmet tilted worriedly.

“I already did,” he said.

“GREAT,” Paz said. “Perfect. You’re doing amazing.”

Djarin pulled back, officially disturbed.

“Right,” he said slowly. “So I’m gonna—”

“Listen, kid,” Paz said, grabbing the strap between Djarin’s chest and back plates and dragging him back down to sitting. “Think about your parent.” He took Djarin’s hand from where he was actively trying to escape and held it in a firm, masculine grip. “She loves you, you know that.”

“Paz, I’m panicking,” Djarin said outloud.

“And she was so happy for you to have a foundling,” Paz carried on like plough. “So she’s gonna be happy for you, no matter what.”

Djarin could not pull his hand out of Paz’s grip, and boy was he trying. He’d started a cool descent to the floor, he was trying so hard.

“I know,” he grated out.

“But a jedi, Din?”

“He can’t help it, man,” Djarin said, still struggling almost on his back now. “You said it yourself. It’s a born-with-it thing.”

Paz stared forcefully at his knuckles.

“You’re right,” he said, letting out a slow breath. “But if that’s how it gonna be, you really should propose first.”

Djarin’s helmet somehow managed to emote ‘shock’ on the ground there.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked. “I barely knew her.”

“Her?” Paz asked, then caught himself. “Sorry, sorry. Not my business—”

“It was like, a week at most—”

“Not my business.”

“And yeah, she had a great kid and—”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Paz said. “Who are you talking about?”

Djarin stared.

“My friend? From Sorgen?” he said. “Who are you talking about?”

Paz went very still.

“You’re fuckin’ some gal on Sorgen?” he asked.

“No?” Djarin said. “I mean. She wanted to, and I thought about it, but it was only a week, and I didn’t want her to feel like I’d used her only for—who are you talking about?”

“The jedi,” Paz said, pointing at Luke’s languid, curled up self on the table’s bench.

“Why would I be fucking the jedi?” Djarin asked. “He’s my son’s teacher, Paz.”

“Because he’s crushing on you?” Paz asked, equally upset and confused. “And you’re gay, so?”

“I’m what?”

“Gay????”

“I am??”

Han was crying. Han was sobbing.

These idiots were days of comedy. Look at them go. Look at ‘em spin.

“Din, please. You don’t have to fake it. I support you—”

“I didn’t ask for your support?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of—”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m picking up some strong feelings. And I don’t want you to think that—”

“Paz, what I want more than anything for you to do right now is to stop thinking. I’m not gay.”

Paz pressed a hand against his helmet like he was in physical pain.

“But the way you always looked at Teyo,” he said.

Djarin had a tiny stroke and slammed his fist into Paz’s arm.

“DON’T MENTION—”

“What the FUCK, brat?”

“HOW DARE YOU—”

“Why’re you yellin’ at me now??”

“Why’re you bringing up some childhood shit, haven’t we done enough of that already?”

“Why’re you so mad? I’m tryin’ to be supportive. If you wanna fuck the Jedi, fuck the Jedi. I’m just sayin’ maybe don’t tell the Armorer until after you’ve done it, so she doesn’t think you’re under some kinda mind-trick or somethin’, alright?”

Han no longer needed those helmets. He had these characters down. Djarin was gaping now. In shock and offense.

“Never speak to me again,” he decided.

“Bro,” Paz said.

“NO.”

“Karkin’ hell, Din. What’s your problem?”

“Excuse me, I must drown, where are your facilities?” Djarin asked Han directly.

“Round the corner, on the left,” Han told him.

“No, no, no,” Paz said, grabbing Djarin by the cape and dragging him back. “We gotta talk about this. We gotta process.”

“I’m not processing shit with you,” Djarin said. “I am not fucking the jedi.”

“But you want to,” Paz deduced.

“I—what? Wh—do you want me to have relations with him? Did I miss something?” Djarin asked.

“I want you to feel supported,” Paz said.

“I don’t. I feel targeted,” Djarin said. “Stop targeting me.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

“Good. Let go.”

“But if—”

“Paz, I’m going to behead myself.”

“If you do want to have sex with the jedi, later. That’s fine. Or anyone else. That’s fine, too.”

“BOBA.”

Behold. A breaking point.

--

#fic #paz vizsla #din djarin #the mandalorian #I literally just want to write Din and Paz fighting and being secretly protective of each other 24/7 #idk if that's been made clear yet #do you think I'm being too subtle? #ficlet

[secret-engima]

Tomorrow is looking up to be - absolutely terrible. Can I beg you for some RWBY or FFXV snippets, please?

Of course! I know it is the "tomorrow" you speak of but lemme see what I can dig up-

Team Gremlin:

There was silence for a long, long time. Nothing but Ruby’s sobbing and Yang’s pounding heart and the fear that pressed down on them from all around. Formless, but not nameless. Then she heard the stairs creak and for one moment Yang was sure that “Salem” was coming upstairs to get Ruby.

But then the door opened and Yang saw Dad’s boots, “Girls? It’s okay. Come on out.” Yang didn’t move, Ruby just sobbed a little louder and clung tighter to her. Dad sighed and bent down to peer at them, “You heard all that didn’t you.” He looked … not mad, but stressed. Maybe scared, and that made the fear worse for Yang. Yang clung to Ruby, her precious baby sister with silver eyes that no monster should be able to get to, and nodded. Dad’s face pinched, then he gave a smile that even she could tell was fake, “Come on out, girls. It’s okay. I promise. That was all just- that was adult talk okay? You don’t need to worry about that until you’re older-.”

“Ruby’s eyes,” Yang bit out, “R-ruby has Mom’s e-eyes.”

“It’s okay, Yang, Ruby, I promise. We’ll take care of it-.”

A creak of wood behind Dad and he frowned before straightening up and turning to face whoever was there, “I’ll be down in a minute, just let me-.”

“Taiyang,” Professor Ozpin sounded weirdly calm, more calm than Dad did, “may I speak to them?”

“…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

A sigh, “I am well aware of your opinion on this matter, Taiyang, and I respect it. But they have already heard enough to be terrified. Telling them to forget it now is not only impossible but potentially worse than talking to them. You made your stance on this matter very clear, but that does not apply to your children if it will put them in danger.” Professor Ozpin’s voice softened, “Either I speak with them or Qrow does, but please. Let one of us help.”

Dad didn’t move for a long time, then his boots made for the door, “Fine. But don’t drag them into this more than you have to.” A deep breath, “Girls? I’m going downstairs to check on your mother, if you need anything, just shout, okay? Professor Ozpin is going to talk to you for a little bit. He’ll be very nice.” The last bit was said in the same voice he used when warning Zwei not to dig holes in the yard.

Dad’s boots disappeared and fancy black shoes came closer. There was a pause, then, “Would you prefer to stay under the bed?” Ruby whined and Yang glared without a word. She didn’t know what was going on, but Dad seemed mad at Professor Ozpin and everything was scary and so yes, she wanted to stay under the bed. The tip of his fancy cane tapped the floorboards a few times, then there was a hiss and a whirr of gears like from her parents’ gear and the tip disappeared. With a grunt, he knelt down and then lay down on his stomach like even Mom rarely did. He pillowed his chin on his crossed arms and it was so strange seeing a fancy, famous person lying on his belly on the floor of Ruby’s room that Yang snorted despite herself.

Professor Ozpin’s face crinkled into a faint smile and it looked real and warm, “Hello there. You must be Yang and Ruby. I am Professor Ozpin, I’m a friend of your uncle and your mother. Can I safely assume you heard the most important parts of that conversation? The Grimm and the silver eyes and,” the briefest hesitation, “Salem?”

Ruby finally pulled her face away from Yang’s shoulder to whimper, “I-is she gonna take Mom away and m-make her a Grimm? Is she gonna t-take me?”

“Ah. You have silver eyes,” Professor Ozpin murmured, then his face fell back into that faint, warm smile, “Your mother is alright now, and now that we know what is going on, we will be much more careful. I promise, I will do everything in my power to keep your mother and you safe. But to do that … I would like to tell you a story, and you must both promise me to never tell it to anyone. For the safety of you and your mother.” They nodded, hesitantly, even though Yang certainly didn’t want to hear anymore scary things today. But if it would help keep Ruby and Mom safe-.

Professor Ozpin’s smile faded, but his eyes were still warm, “Once upon a time,” he began, and they listened intently as the man with white hair slowly outlined a story that sounded right out of a fairy tail.

...

Always I Dreamed verse:

Summer had no idea what Professor Ozpin had been thinking, making her the leader of Team STRQ. Then again, the only other real option would have been Taiyang, and as much as she enjoyed his company and was coming to think of him as a good friend and teammate, he wouldn’t have been able to handle the Branwen twins.

Not that Summer was much better at handling the Branwen twins.

They hadn’t done anything to get the team in trouble, but she didn’t know how to deal with them. Taiyang made sense, even if he had a few oddly adorable hangups on things like “modesty” —they were two guys and two girls living in the same room, she didn’t really see what modesty had to do with anything when they weren’t out in public—. Taiyang understood her when she tried to … bond with the team, tried to get them to be more than just four strangers living under the same roof and tackling the same assignments in class. Raven and Qrow on the other hand…

Every time she suggested a group activity, they watched her like she was going to bite. Like they couldn’t fathom the point of learning more about or bonding with anyone outside themselves. Taiyang had suggested it was an out of kingdom thing, but Summer had lived outside the kingdoms until five years ago, and she had never acted like that. Her family hadn’t either. That feral behavior, wary distrust and eerie staring in the middle of the night like even the room wasn’t safe to sleep in without a watch wasn’t anything like what Summer and her family or neighbors had grown up with. The only ones who had acted even similar had been-.

Oh.

Now that’s an idea.

...

Blood of My Blood verse:

The next one was a whole month after Grandma Crepera had first appeared and only a week after the scary man with the mace, but three times was enough for Dionysus to be able to immediately tell what was happening when he blinked his way to awareness in a dream. He looked around uneasily, afraid of being yelled at by someone again, but … there was no one scary nearby. He was in a small little building inside a big, unfamiliar garden. The building was just a roof and little pillars holding it up and a stone floor to stand on with a little table inside and-.

A woman.

She was sitting at the table, working on something, but instead of it being paperwork like Grandpa or taking care of a sword like Uncle Cor, she was … spinning mud? She was making mud spin and pulling at it with her hands, changing its shape with her fingers, and Dionysus hadn’t realized he’d drifted into the gazebo to watch her in awe until she glanced up from her work and smiled at him. She went back to watching her mud, and when she spoke, her voice wasn’t echoing and scary, “Hello. Would you like to join me? I have enough for both of us to use if you like.”

Dionysus watched the spinning-spinning-spinning in awe, but shook his head and tucked his hands behind his back, “Iggy says I can’t play in the mud cause I’ll get dirty an’ it’s unb- unbe- bad for a prince.” He blinked up at her, “How come you’re playing in the mud? Iggy says old people don’ like mud.”

The spinning slowed to a stop as she stared at him and he wondered if she was going to get mad. But then she started laughing, an old, deep sound that felt nice, all the way to his bones, “This is not mud, Cheeky Prince, this is clay. People use it to make things like mugs and teapots and vases. Come, come sit and I will show you how.” She waved her muddy hand and set down a chair next to hers in a flash of magical rosy-blue sparks. So she was family, just like the last ones had been. Dionysus hadn’t known he had so much family before. Then again, he was pretty sure they were all dead, and that’s why they were talking to him in dreams rather than when he was awake —and a part of him wondered if that should scare him, but it didn’t, so as long as they didn’t act scary, he didn’t bother trying—.

Dionysus climbed onto the chair and watched her in curiosity. It still looked a lot like mud to him, but it was a different color from mud, so he supposed it could be something else. The woman was spinning her clay again, fingers deftly shaping and pinching and rubbing, “My name is Nyssia, though some once called me the Just.”

Dionysus thought of the Hall of Arts and all the pictures and statues in it, including some of Grandma Crepera, and wondered if she was one of the pictures in the Hall, “Just like Grandma Crepera?”

An amused twitch of her lips, “Yes, I am like Crepera. We are both related to you, but we are older than King Regis.”

He tilted his head, partially mesmerized by what she was doing with the spinning clay, but curious despite himself about other things. She was like Grandma Crepera and the others, but she hadn’t used a scary voice at all, “How come?”

She hummed without looking away from her work, “How come what, Cheeky Prince? I cannot read your mind.”

Dionysus pouted at her, because wasn’t it obvious what he was asking? But then he said, “You don’ have a scary voice like they do.”

Now she did glance up at him with a look like Grandpa had when he said something silly, “Oh, don’t I?” Dionysus jolted in his seat, startled, but not … scared. Her voice had echoed just now, deep and layered like when Grandma Crepera or Leon had spoken, but it didn’t make him feel like he needed to go hide. It reminded him oddly of the big, booming bells that hung from old church in his favorite movie, loud but mellow. He kind of liked it, but he was still glad when her voice went back to normal as she shrugged, “I merely thought you would not like it if I used that voice. So I did not.”

#SE asks #hamelin born asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Team Gremlin verse #Always I Dreamed verse #Child of My Blood verse #Blood of My Blood (That Was Shed On the Throne) verse

[limitededgewrites]

Internet Friends, Chapter 3 Extras

Some Possible Scenes from ‘Internet Friends’ by Limited_Edge (ao3), Chapter 3 that were cut. 

These scenes were all based around the point where Hisashi is preparing to call Inko, after realizing that, no, he doesn’t really want to kill SmallMight41, but he does need to calm down while he processes this non-murderous ephinany. They’re both rather abrupt and just snippets that didn’t feel right with the flow of the fic, but IDK, maybe someone will find them interesting. 

Side Bit 1: Inko picks up, but immediatley has no time for Hisashi

The call connected, and Hisashi awaited the response.

“Hello??”

“Inko! I was wondering if you-”

“-Sorry Hisashi I don’t have time for you right now-”

The phone clicked.

Inko had hung up.

Hisashi stared blankly forward. It felt like there was static buzzing in his head, as though he was a really shitty old TV that blue screened whenever it was paused. Distantly, he felt as though the little part of him that he had pushed away was calling him out and giving him the finger.

He was broken out of the moment by the phone, which he still had in his hand, ringing. The play button was pressed. Motion resumed. A check on the screen revealed Inko calling again, six minutes later than when he had called.

Hisashi slammed the ear up against his ear. “Inko?!”

“Hisashi, dear, I’m so sorry- I panicked- I was on a call with the school, there was an incident at lunch, Izuku punch someone in the face-”

Oddly enough, Inko’s anxiety was normal enough that it calmed Hisashi down.

“It’s alright dear, deep breaths. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four…”

Within a few breaths, Inko sounded less shaky and only on the verge of tears, as opposed to sobbing into the phone. “I’m heading to the school now, to talk with the principal. I don’t know how this could have happened- Izuku never gets into fights!”

Hisashi was aware. The kid, from his general impression, was not very heroic for all he dreamed of being a hero. His guess was that he accidently slapped someone while getting hit himself.

He didn’t say that to Inko, of course.

“I’m sure it will work out okay, Inko. As you said, Izuku isn’t the type to get in fights. It is likely a misunderstanding. And if not, he has no record prior to this. He’ll be okay.”

A sniffle came from the other end of the line. “Oh, I know- I appreciate you staying so calm. I never can, when it comes to Izuku…”

Ah. This would just be a call entirely about Izuku, wouldn’t it?

Side Bit 2: If Inko had hung up on Hisashi, and he assumed the worst

The call connected, and Hisashi awaited the response.

“Hello??”

“Inko! I was wondering if you-”

“-Sorry Hisashi I don’t have time for you right now-”

The phone clicked.

Inko had hung up.

Hisashi stared at the phone. The phone screen went dark from lack of activity, plunging Hisashi into darkness. He remained motionless, but his thoughts were awhirl. Imposter? No. Hisashi would recognize Inko’s voice anywhere. Was she in danger? Maybe Inko had been abrupt to give him a sign! She knew he would find it suspicious, and that he would catch on! Hisashi quickly turned the phone back on, and checked the tracking app he had linked to Inko’s phone. She was just exiting the apartment building. Based on the speed of the icon’s movement, Inko was either running as fast as she could (from someone??), or she was being kidnapped.

But then the icon paused. Hisashi analyzed the map. Inko had stopped at the bus stop. Most kidnapper’s, in Hisashi’s expert opinion, did not pull a get away via public transportation.

…Unless they had thrown out Inko’s phone while shoving her into a different vehicle!

An incoming call interrupted Hisashi before he could contact Kurogiri or destroy his office space in a fit of panicked rage.

Hisashi accepted the call and slammed the phone back up beside his ear.

“If you’re looking for ransom, I can tell you I have money… But more importantly, I have a very particular set of skills. Skills that I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my wife go now, that will be the end of it. But if you don’t-”

“…Hisashi?”

“…Inko?”

A sigh came from the other end. It was long and exasperated enough that Hisashi had time to switch to speaker and check the tracker map. The icon was moving at what he quickly judged to be a bus’s speed.

“What is up with the dramatics of my boys today? I assume it was a boring day in the office for you, if you were bored enough to quote that old movie you enjoyed.”

“…Yes. I was bored, and just being dramatic.” Hisashi’s racing heartrate was not convinced. Inko give a small laugh, but it was not as light and cheerful as it should be. “Dear, are you okay? You were rather abrupt…”

“Sorry, Hisashi- I just- I panicked, and was in a rush to catch the bus, and I would have had to wait another half hour if I missed this one.”

Hisashi hummed. “I see. You are okay though, right?”

“Right as rain set fire to,” Inko drawled. There was a clatter on the other end, and Inko saying something- possibly making room for someone else to sit as the bus stopped. “I’m on my way to the school. I got a call; Izuku, he…”

That little brat. What he did he do to distress his mother now? “He?...”

Inko choked back a sob. “He punched a classmate in the face- they think he broke Katsuki’s nose!”

Ah. A school yard brawl. How plebian.

#bnha #Limited_Edge #Internet Friends #Extras #Chapter 3 #fanfic

[mintsuke]

For Rent || 4.5 - Touché

Kita Shinsuke x f!Reader SMAU

Warning: Mention of implied sex

Note: The cafe is inspired by the Gäbi Coffee and Bakery in Las Vegas. (look up pictures, it’s a really cute place, the bathrooms are just as pretty too I wanted to cry)

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You’re not really sure what you’re expecting on this date. You told Atsumu to just have his friend meet you at one of your favorite cafes in town. Surely a cliche first date location, but you wanted a feel for the boy if you were going to help him out and whatnot. 

Arriving at the place, you really hadn’t expected for your date to be there before you. An admirable trait, really. You only heard snippets of Atsumu and Osamu’s high school days, and if you remember well, their robotic captain was always the first in the clubroom without fail. 

Digital pictures really never did people justice. That much stayed true when you caught a glimpse of the former volleyball captain. He stood out with his short silver hair, the tips singed with black. From where you stood, he was of average height, his clothes hiding what you imagined was a lean body from years of volleyball and manual work in the rice fields. He was dressed nicely in a beige sweater with a white collared shirt underneath and khakis. 

Pretty from afar sometimes meant pretty up close, and boy were you two seconds away from sobbing into your phone. 

“Excuse me, are you Miya Atsumu’s friend?” You ask, leaning into his field of vision. A pair of almond eyes focus on your form. The man seems almost stunned by the sight of you, blinking once before his composure quickly returns.

“Yes, are you (L/n) (F/n)-san?” 

Oh. Wow his voice. 

“That would be me, Atsu didn’t mention any name, so I apologise,” You smile softly as he bows slightly and you mirror his movements in return.

“No worries, Kita Shinsuke, it’s a pleasure to meet you (L/n)-san.”

“Just (F/n) is fine, after all, we are supposed to be ‘dating’ right?” 

He doesn’t show any reaction or distaste and simply nods in understanding and suggests you call him Shinsuke. Although, he silently notes the way you refer to his former junior by a nickname. 

“Did he mention to you that I’m a... a ‘girlfriend-for-rent’?” You decide to ask, given how absolutely dumb your close friend can be. 

The surprise that passes through his expression like a car speeding past is adorable to say the least. His body noticeably stiffens and he shakes his head. 

“He only mentioned you helping me out with gaining experience, a ‘fake’ date, but don’t worry about me feeling uncomfortable. I guess I have been stressing a little too much lately, the twins were able to tell.”

“Really? Want to talk about it inside?” You gesture towards the cafe, and he nods. Kita moves to take a step forward when you stop him. The confusion in his eyes and the slight way his brows furrow is cute. 

“Is something wrong?”

“We’re on a date, so why don’t we hold hands?”

The idea clicks in his head and he offers a good-natured upturn of his lips, presenting an outstretched hand. Taking it, you make a mental note of the size in comparison to yours, his skin warm to the touch as your fingers lace and he leads you towards the entrance. He only lets go when he has to open the door and beckons you inside. A gesture that makes you a little giddy, given that most dates don’t do so. 

A little chivalry never hurt, and Kita was already charming you.

The inside was one of your favorite parts, at least besides the delicious desserts and refreshing drinks. Vintage-esque paintings, planters hanging from the ceiling with trailing vines, tall bookcases lining the walls, and an assortment of mismatched chair and tables that all added to the aesthetic of the place.

He nearly tripped over his own feet when you tugged him excitedly towards the display of desserts. He watched as your eyes glowed with near adoration of the assortment for that day. 

“Pick anything you want, I’m paying,” He said as you eyed the earl grey cheesecake. The statement made you stand up straight.

“Wh-what, no that’s okay, I can pay for myself.”

“This is a date right? I’m paying,” He smiles slyly as it soon becomes your turn in line to the register.

Touché, you think inwardly with a pout. 

“So let’s hear about it,” You smile as you both find a seat at a velvet love seat with a wooden coffee table settled in front. “If it’s alright with you at least.”

“Of course,” He chuckles lightly, “My grandmother has been constantly bringing up marriage and children whenever she can. I want to make her happy of course, my grandmother is my world. I guess it’s just been weighing down on my mind... and I’m not particularly looking or anything, I guess maybe I don’t where to start... I’m sure Atsumu probably mentioned that I never had a girlfriend...”

“Mm... I see, that’s sweet that you want to make her happy, but you have to worry about your own happiness too Shinsuke,” You say thoughtfully, “I’m sure she means no harm, but there’s no rush in trying to be tied down.”

A smile. 

“Thank you, I appreciate your words. I suppose I can still try this ‘trial’ out, if you’re up for it. Practice makes perfect after all.”

“Of course!”

After small talk, a little getting to know the other, all the while enjoying your drinks and desserts, you lead him on a walk. To say the least, you immensely adored the way his facade would crack ever so slightly at the smallest things. The way his eyes widened a fraction and ears reddened as you prodded the seam of lips with your spoon full of cheesecake. To which he accepted and followed with a spoon of his own dessert.

Hands laced together and sides pressed close. You had gone over a few policies, or at least rules to put it a little more informally, since you were going on multiple dates. It was all basic necessities like no feelings and the importance of consent. The last was a given, but you always made it your mission to bring it up as an importance for any and everyone who rented your services.

“You... You don’t do sexual services do you?” 

You forget that Atsumu mentioned how straightforward Kita can be. Hearing it coming from him is like a punch to the gut and you cough when you choke on your spit. 

“S-sorry, that caught me off guard,” You laugh weakly as you both sit on the swings at a park that had been nearby. He sits idly as your feet push you back and forth in small gentle swings, not enough to catch air or lift your feet off the ground. 

“I apologize if it was too forward of me.”

“No, well, no one has really asked me that question...” You reply meekly, “It’s not necessarily part of the job description but some customers ask for it I suppose... but I never really go that far... only twice... I guess... if I were to be real honest with you. Most times I decline because I feel uncomfortable and the guys are really good about respecting me.”

“It’s a little odd since I’m supposed to be catering to my date’s wishes, but I can’t really do anything about it...”

He makes a noise of appraisal. He’s not quite sure why he thinks the way he does. Imagining the other guys you must have gone on similar dates with. Did you take them to that particular cafe as well? Hold their hand and smile that same smile. 

“So how do you know Atsumu? I don’t think you attended Inarizaki...”

“I didn’t,” You smile, “He actually rented me a long while ago. A loss game and constant dating rumors were stressing him out, to say the least, he needed a stress reliever and a break from being asked if it’s true he’s dating so-and-so.” You pause in case he wants to interject,  but he keeps silent. You opt to changing activity, climbing the playground set despite the obvious sign that reads children only. 

“We stayed close friends afterwards, he helps me out a lot, and even Osamu had gotten me a side job at Onigiri Miya.”

Even worse, he sighs inwardly. Another poke to the roaring thoughts inside his head. You had done the same with his junior, if not further? 

There’s a shift in the atmosphere, and you both feel a little odd. He wonders if it was a mistake asking about Atsumu. You wonder, on the other hand, if you’ve said too much. But he’s a friend of your close friends, it wouldn’t hurt right? 

He seems to notice the awkward air that’s settled around you both and scratches the back of his head timidly.

 “That was a little invasive of me wasn’t it? I apologize.”

“N-no it’s alright, you are a friend of Atsu, so I don’t mind,” You laugh slightly.

“Well, if you do feel uncomfortable, or I cross a line, please let me know and I’ll respect you.”

The way your chest flutters at the statement is dangerous. You ignore the feeling as you smile thankfully. He was kind nonetheless and you liked that.

Kita tells stories of his time as a volleyball player, dealing with the antics and constant bickering between the two twins, managing a team of exceptional players. His eyes light up tremendously, almost sparkling as he talks about different moments, both good and sad. 

You don’t even realize how you’ve been completely sucked into his world, listening to every word. Watching the way his face turns with nostalgia. He pauses every now and then to gauge your reaction, smiling momentarily to see you so invested in his tales. 

“What about you? Why did you decide on working as a ‘girlfriend-for-rent’?”

Oh. 

Emotion spills onto your face, more than you mean to, and Kita is quick to notice the shift in your expression.

“That...”

He shakes his head and puts his hand up to stop you, “It was a touchy question wasn’t it? Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you...” You offer softly, almost reluctant to speak in case your emotions start going haywire. Your mood immediately drops and he’s aware of this. 

When Atsumu pulls up to pick you up, you stop in your tracks and turn to your date. He watches curiously as you move closer, until the distance gradually lessens and your body presses to his. Arms wrap around his middle and he’s speechless for a second.

“It’s a hug Shinsuke, we’re dating still, right?” 

Ah. Yeah. He chuckles, a little relieved that despite his mess ups, you still continued to act accordingly. This was business as usual after all.

+Taglist | Closed!

@differentballooncollection​​ @sugawsites​​ @oikawalmart-hq​​ @tremendousglitterthing @90s-belladonna​​ @kiyoojima​​ @unqstuffles​​ @chaelysian​​ @arisu003​​

(comments replies will be from my main blog @minnochu​ | couldn’t tag in bold)

#For Rent mintsuke #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kita shinsuke x reader #kita smau #kita x reader #kita shinsuke smau #kita imagines

[maeve-of-winter]

Snippet from a WIP: that time Kent’s various visits to Boston spawned a fan meltdown and official meme. Told from Jack’s POV, hence some saltiness.

* * * * *

Back during Kent’s second season with the Aces, fans had started regularly spotting him waltzing around the Boston area. While Aces fans were wondering why Kent was so often in Boston, Boston fans were constantly on the lookout for the Aces captain who might be visiting their city. Forget Jagr Watch—2011-2012 was the year of Parson Watch. And then, as Kent entered his fourth season, his time in Boston only increased, and rumors of him transferring there started to surface and then multiply.

Vegas responded to their star player’s regular trips to northeast by, as Holster once ever so eloquently described it, “promptly losing every iota of their shit and never regaining a single scintilla of it.” Maybe it was because the Aces were Nevada’s only pro sports team, maybe it was because they’d grown attached to Parson, who’d won them a Cup his rookie season and then in 2012 as well, but Kent’s travels had Aces fans in a constant uproar. A tsunami of paranoia swept through them that the reason for Kent visiting Boston was because he was planning on signing with the Bruins. And once that rumor got started, online debates raged more intensely than a nuclear winter could ever hope to, complete with fear-mongering unseen since the Cold War, all focusing on if Kent was staying in Vegas or going to Boston. 

During one of his visits, Kent posted a selfie to his Instagram of himself and Chara having drinks together at the upscale bar of the Langham Hotel. Rather than enthusing about Kent’s fashion sense or waxing poetic about how easygoing and friendly he was (as Aces fans typically did in comments on Kent’s social media pages, Jack had often observed in annoyance), their ensuing meltdown was only matched by the Vancouver riots back from when Kent won the gold for Team USA in the 2010 Olympics. The photo’s comments were promptly inundated with demands that he reveal if he was signing with the Bruins or not, often accompanied by insistence that he “owed” fans an explanation for his actions. It got to the point that NHL Network did an actual segment at the next home Aces game, featuring numerous Aces fans (of varying levels of sobriety) tearfully expressing how much Kent Parson meant to them, how deeply they loved him, and how much they hated the Bruins for trying to steal him away from them (despite no evidence that the Bruins had done so).     

Jack knew these details because he’d been in the Haus’s living room with a few teammates when the interviews had first aired. Holster and Ransom had been watching, bursting into laughter each time an Aces fan, from a burly biker dude to a duo of teenage girls in Uggs and leggings, proclaimed their love for Kent and hate for Boston. 

“Well, I’ll say this about Vegas,” Ransom said, cracking up as a father of four, his teenage sons looking on concernedly, practically sobbed onscreen at the thought of Kent leaving the team. “One thing Aces fans and us Bruins fans have in common? They’re both fucking lunatics. Just look at this shit. Parson told everyone he’s not going anywhere! Like, ten times already!”

Holster chortled as well, taking a swig of his beer. “Right? I can’t believe an expansion team has this devoted of a fanbase. Bettman’s dream has come true, I guess. But come on, you’d be lucky to have a marriage these days with a fucking tenth of this much passion!”

After the interviews aired, a twitter war broke out, with Bruins fans responding to Aces fans’ vocal resentment of them with disdain and insults of their own. Aces fans retaliated, and a short-lived rivalry was born that day, a rare one that only existed between hockey fans themselves and not the actual teams or players. 

But that was Kent. Able to tear people apart with just a hypothetical, his actual presence not even required.

In fact, the question of if Kent was going to sign with the Bruins spawned a viral meme, one that became so widespread that even if someone knew nothing else about hockey, they were at least in on this joke. From that point forward, whenever Kent was spotted in another city, be it because he was vacationing or there for an official game, fans would snap a photo and jokingly include a caption wondering if he was going to sign with the local NHL team. If the city had no team, fans would claim that Kent was obviously there to start one. It became the “in” activity to remark on any of Kent’s non-Vegas photos that he would no doubt soon be moving to the city or town in question. He’d once joined Jeff Troy for Christmas, travelling back with him to Troy’s home of Milk River, Alberta. After posting a selfie, his comments section were filled with jokes that the tiny town with a population of just over eight hundred people would be the site of the NHL’s latest expansion team, with Kent as its first member.

But for Vegas, it was no laughing matter. They loved Kent (to an unhealthy degree, in Jack’s opinion) and were possessive of him. It was their worst fear to lose him to another team. He was their hero, their golden boy, the favorite son of their city. 

He was to Vegas, Jack conceded reluctantly, what he had once been to Jack and his family.

#kent parson #check please #jack zimmermann #justin oluransi #adam birkholtz #current wip #kent parson becomes a meme

[extasiswings]

how abt 19 and/or 22 !!

19. “I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Sometimes, there are things you just know.  They can hit without warning, with striking clarity—sometimes you feel it in your body before it registers in your mind because it’s so certain.  

Eddie’s going to die.  

That’s what he knows.

He catches Buck’s eyes across the burning room and his heart stops, his whole body going cold a split second before the floor gives way underneath him—

—and he falls.

I’m going to die, he thinks as he’s pinned by debris, thick clouds of smoke vicious and choking all around.  There’s a sharp pain in his side that dulls as his vision swims.  Shock.  Adrenaline.  

He might be bleeding, but he can’t move enough to tell.  He can’t move.  

I’m going to die.

Eddie drifts.

A hand grasps his.  Noise fades in and out of his ears—no more than scattered snippets through the fog—but he does hear his name.  It’s the last thing he hears before everything goes black.

There’s a light…

Eddie.  Eddie Eddie Eddie please come back wake up come back to me please please please I love—

He takes a step towards it.  Hesitates.  Behind him, it’s only dark.  Eddie knows a lot about the dark, about the things that live there—guilt, shame, pain.  The light is warm.  Sweet.  It doesn’t hurt.  But still, he hesitates.

Eddie.  Please.

He turns around.  Follows the whisper thread like Eurydice, but there’s no one in front of him, only—

Eddie opens his eyes.  The fluorescent hospital lights aren’t warm and they do hurt.  He squeezes them shut again, chokes around the tube in his throat.  A hand squeezes his and suddenly there’s a flurry of activity all around him.  The tube comes out, he’s poked and prodded and looked over by what feels like a million different people, but eventually, he’s left alone.  Or…almost alone.

Buck looks like he hasn’t slept in days, dark circles under red-rimmed eyes, unshaven and hollowed out.  But he’s not saying a word, just sitting back in his chair, starting at Eddie like he’s some kind of miracle.  

“Were you—were you talking?” Eddie rasps out.  His throat feels raw, but this feels too important to rest it.  “I thought—I thought I heard you.”

“They weren’t sure if you were going to wake up,” Buck replies.  “I—”

He chokes on what might be a sob or maybe a hysterical laugh, and Eddie—

Clarity.  

“I love you, too.”

Buck stills, eyes wide.  The same noise escapes him once more, but then he’s closing the space and his mouth is on Eddie’s and—

Oh.  

I lived.  

#chapel writes #coping with coronavirus prompt fills #buddie #idk what you expected doll #ask #shannondiaz

[mrcusarmstrong]

🎁 & 📒?

Thanks for writing these amazing fics💕

 Ohh, thank you so much for the compliment, I’m glad you enjoy them!! 🥰

📒 - any fics planned?

my writing list keeps getting longer and longer 😅 I have four “active” WIPs at the moment which are three Marcus/Callum fics (one is very angsty, one is pwp and the third one is one I’m co-writing with someone) and the Pierre/Charles oneshot for the HP universe, so these are the ones I’m planning to finish next!

🎁 have a quote from a WIP?

It’s more a section than a quote sjdfhjkl but here, have this snippet from the angsty mallum fic 👀

Callum's heart is beating in his throat as he impatiently fumbles with the envelope but then he pauses, momentarily confused when he realises that he's holding nothing else than his own postcard in his hands, the one he sent to Marcus' only a few days ago. Perplexed, he turns the card over in his hands, not quite sure what to make of it – did he maybe not write the correct address on it and that's why they sent it back to him? But then his heart skips a beat when he notices that something has been added to the card.

He looks closer and discovers that the words ‘you're a fucking dick’ have been scribbled underneath his original message in Marcus' untidy scrawl. Callum wants to laugh but when the noise comes out of his mouth it sounds more like a sob than he ever wants to admit.

Send me some fanfic asks!

#ask games

[ask-the-riders]

iiiiiiii have no idea what to call this

It's basically a snippet of back toward when War first became a rider and how her relationship with Death was, and then in comparison, a snippet of her future, to show how much her relationship with him has improved

The bit that takes place in the future may be very mildly suggestive, because Pest is... well, Pest

"DAMNIT, I SAID I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" War screeched angrily, her sockets clouded with wars as she thrashed, blindly trying to fight off the reaper who'd come to her aid. Her struggling continued, despite the several busted ribs, numerous cuts and large bruises, and her all but shattered sternum, and Death let out a deep sigh, his magic holding the glitch in place.

At this rate, she'd end up only hurting herself further. Being the newest addition to the team, he couldn't risk losing her already. Staying back just out of arms reach, he spoke, "Hey, listen to me, War. You need to stop struggling so much. With the shape you're in, you stand the chance of making it even worse. If you hold still for me, I can heal you."

War growled and narrowed her sockets defiantly, "What will it take for you to understand that I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP?!" Death scoffed, "War, cut the bullshit, will ya? When I got here, you were on the ground, almost unable to move. You were nearly screaming in agony, and you were bawling your eyes out." The female rider growled again in irritation, and at her silence, he continued, "Just let me heal you... please. After that, we can go home. I won't tell anyone what happened here, since I know how adamant you are about not letting anyone see you like that."

The glitch refused to answer, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest. Suddenly being reminded of her nearly shattered sternum, her sockets widened and she bit back a pained cry. Squeezing her sockets shut and trying to force back her tears, her figure began to glitch and she seemed to deflate, her voice a broken mumble, "Fine... You're probably gonna do it anyway, so just hurry up and get it over with."

Death rolled his visible eye light, carefully moving closer and beginning to heal her injuries. Once finished, his magic released her, and much to Death's surprise, she collapsed, clearly trembling as she attempted to get back up. The reaper's scythe vanished into thin air and he hoisted her up into his arms without warning, paying no mind as her cheekbones immediately flushed bright blue and she yelped.

Processing what was happening, she squirmed and made a face, "What are you doing?! I can walk fine on my own, I don't need you!" Death arched a brow bone and opened a portal, "Uh huh, sure. We're just gonna ignore how you collapsed the second my magic let go of you, aren't we?" War instinctively clung to his robes, on high alert as they passed through the portal, now in a hallway back at their home.

Still unable to see, War shifted, clearly uneasy as she heard a door open. Death carried her into another room, and a door closed. She was set down on some hard surface and she furrowed her brow bones in confusion. As she heard the bath suddenly turn on, water pouring into the tub at a rapid speed, her sockets widened again and she froze up. Oh god. He wasn't gonna try to bathe her, was he?

Apparently, the answer was yes.

As she felt her scarf be removed, followed by her satchel, she attempted to shove him back, "Hey, hey, hey, hold on a damn minute! There's no way in hell you're undressing me, creep!" His grip was firm yet gentle as he pulled her shoes off, dropping them on the bathroom floor. Ignoring her concerns, he hummed, "War, come on. Seriously. You were badly injured and even after being healed, you still look pretty gross. You don't have the strength to stand, so therefore, you probably can't do this by yourself either."

He began to tug at her shirt and she screamed, her figure glitching wildly, "GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF ME, DEATH." The elder rider let out a deep sigh in mild aggravation, "Oh come on, knock it off, War. I'm not doing this to be a creep. For God's sake, I've basically been with you since you were a kid. I've seen you grow up. I'm not doing this for any reason other than to help you."

The glitch continued struggling and the reaper hissed, "War, don't make me use magic. If I have to use magic to make you sit still, you won't like it." Scowling as she slapped his hand away, War snapped, "I'm not gonna like it either way, now get the fuck away from me, you cradle robber!" Death felt one of his sockets twitch and he pinched the bridge of his nose, "War, you don't have the strength to do this by yourself. You need help. It's either gonna be me, Famine, or Pestilence. Take your pick."

The female rider fell silent and he pressed on, "Between the two of us, I get the feeling Pest would love to see you naked. Fam's a little different, but I can't promise that he won't stare, too." War remained silent, her glitching visibly growing worse. She continued to hesitate, and as Death began to tug at her shirt again, she offered no resistance, nor did she make any effort to make the task easier for him.

As soon as he finished stripping her of her clothes, he lifted her again, carrying her toward the tub and gently lowering her into the warm water. The instant his touch was gone, War curled in on herself, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them as tight as she could. Death backed up a bit to give her some space, and he was unable to shake the guilt that began to gnaw at his soul as she hid her face, trying to muffle her voice as she let out a broken sob.

He tried to remind himself that he'd only been trying to help her, but in watching her tremble and sob the way she was, he began to question himself. Just... what was the point of all that? Why did he do something after she repeatedly told him no?... Was he really even helping?

He reached out, his fingertips brushing over her arm, "War, I-" At the contact, the female rider jerked back as if she'd been burnt, and she screamed, "GET AWAY FROM ME, BASTARD! JUST GET THE HELL AWAY, AND DON'T FUCKING COME BACK." His shoulders sank and he murmured a soft apology, silent as he exited the bathroom.

She... hated him, by the sounds of it. Then again, he couldn't blame her. There wasn't a single person he'd met that didn't fear or hate him. Even he wasn't a fan of himself, after all.

It'd been a while since then, and at the current point in time, War was lounging on the living room sofa, curled up to her soulmate and completely at ease with her head lying on his shoulder. He'd wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand gently resting on her swollen belly, and she didn't appear to mind, only making a face as she felt their unborn child shifting inside her. Having also felt the movement of their baby, Pest's sockets momentarily widened in surprise, before he sighed, his expression softening as he affectionately nuzzled War's head, pressing a soft kiss to her skull and humming softly, his cheekbones dusting a faint shade of green, "Well someone seems just as energetic as ever."

War playfully scoffed, arching a brow bone at him, "Yeah? And whose fault is that, I wonder." Pestilence chuckled softly, rolling his eye lights, "Mmn... Definitely not mine." His soulmate made another face and she very slowly sat up, just enough to be comfortable as she rested a hand on her belly, softly rubbing as she teased, "Oh shut up, Pest. You know how much they love their daddy already... Always rolling around and practically doing gymnastics in there whenever you touch me." Pestilence snickered, suggestively wiggling a brow bone at her and purring, "Well damn. Looks like I'm not the only one who likes it when my hands are on you. I mean... I already knew you loved it, but the kid?"

War's cheekbones flushed a bright shade of blue and she flicked her tongue at him, "...Pervert." He laughed softly again, scooting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. As he slid a hand beneath her shirt to touch her ecto body directly, the baby could be felt moving again. Pestilence blinked, taking a moment to process what just happened before a grin slowly stretched across his face and he leaned down, gently laying his head on her belly as he sighed softly, visibly content. His cheekbones dusted a soft shade of green as he murmured faintly, "Hey there, kiddo... It's your dad. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. You and your mom, both... You really are our little miracle, y'know that?..."

As he continued softly speaking to the baby, War's expression softened and she smiled to herself, affectionately caressing the top of his skull. Man... The baby wasn't even born yet, and he'd already showered them with so much love. He'd be amazing father, and she didn't doubt that for even a single moment.

Despite the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by the air growing cold, the pair of soulmates were completely at ease, both enamored by their unborn child. Death began to make his way across the room, briefly pausing to glance at them and smile slightly, shaking his head. Well aware of his presence, War attempted to glance back at him over her shoulder and the back of the couch, calling out to him, "Hey Death, c'mere for a second." The reaper paused again, arching a brow bone, "What for?"

War hummed, "The baby's pretty active right now. I wanted you to come feel it." Death stopped, briefly stealing a wide eyed, surprised glance in her direction. He cleared his throat, "I, uh... I don't think that's a good idea." This response caused War's brow bones to furrow in confusion and concern, "What? Why?" The god of death let out a deep sigh, his smile almost turning sad, "My touch, War. I don't wanna kill your baby. I'd never want that to happen, not ever." The female rider gently nudged Pest's shoulder and he sat up, already understanding the gesture. War called out to Death again, "I think it'd be ok, though. They're born from two members of the group, both of which are immune to your touch." The god shook his head again and began to walk, heading for the hallway that led to his room, "I don't wanna risk anything, ok? I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to the baby."

War narrowed her sockets, grunting as she pushed herself up from the couch. She began to follow the reaper, frowning as she watched him, "Why are you so worried? If your touch kills babies, then how the hell is Mortem not dead? You and Connie had him before she was even part of this group, and he's fine, D. Morty's fine." Death's saddened smile shifted into a frown and he froze in place, "I was hesitant to touch him, War. Connie was persistent though, and I couldn't say no to her. I loved her, and every time she looked even a little sad when I refused to hold him, it made me feel so, so very guilty. I warned her what could happen, and she... she kept insisting..."

His body jolted in surprise as War wrapped her arms around him from behind, laying her head on his back and making a soft sound of acknowledgement, "Yeah?... Tell me how both of you reacted when you held him for the first time... How happy and relieved were you, Death?" The reaper was silent for a moment, his voice noticeably softer than before, "I... Connie was just... over the moon excited. She had these big stars in her sockets, and she was smiling, almost in tears. She kept hugging me, kissing my face... saying how proud she was of me. When I saw that my touch hadn't turned my son to dust, I was so relieved. I was so relieved that I cried, War. It was hard for me to put him down after that... All I wanted was to keep him close to me."

War nodded, her voice a low mumble, "I know... You're a good dad, Death. Everyone here can see that, too. Especially when you're with Morty. That boy loves you so much, y'know that? I know you'd never let anything happen to him." She paused, releasing the reaper from her grasp. As she slipped around in front of him and gently took one of his hands, tugging it toward her belly, she continued, offering him a slight smile and hoping to give some reassurance, "Which is why I trust you with this... Despite your job and what you do, you're a good person. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't trust you as much as I do, you know that, right?"

Death slowly nodded, his body tensing as she gently pressed his open palm to her stomach. In response to the new touch, the baby did a flip, dragging a startled noise from it's mother, all while Death's sockets widened and he stared. As his frame began to relax again, he very gently stroked her stomach with his thumb, his cheekbones dusting a faint shade of sky blue. Her own cheekbones becoming a soft shade of it's respective deep blue, she smiled, fighting back an amused snort as the unborn infant kicked at the elder rider's hand, "Pfft. What'd I tell ya? Everything's fine, see?... The baby's ok, and if I didn't know any better, I'd even say they liked you."

Death glanced back up at War's face, his blush darkening the smallest bit as he absentmindedly began to pick at her shirt, his voice coming out smaller than intended, "...Can I? Please?... I'm curious if I can see them yet." Despite her own blush darkening as well, the female rider rolled her eye lights, feigning annoyance, "Yeah, yeah. Go for it, D." Death couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, his hands moving to very gently push her shirt up over her belly. Peering at the deep blue ecto with an obvious interest, the reaper very gently touched her again, both hands on her stomach now. War watched him, staying silent throughout her ever increasing embarrassment as he tilted his head, almost giddy as the baby lightly kicked at one of his hands again.

Her gaze shifted downward and she drew in a soft breath as she watched the darker colored mass inside her shift. As a tiny hand outstretched to press against her belly, her sockets widened and she felt tears prick at her eyes; this... this was really happening. She was really pregnant. She was really going to be a mom. Pestilence was really going to be a dad.

Also seeing the tiny hand, Death's own eyes widened and he stared in awe, at a loss for words. As Pest appeared behind War, he gently gripped her hips and pressed closer to her, wearing a small smile as he watched Death attempt to delicately poke at the baby through her stomach, as if testing to see what it'd do next. Noticing how his soulmate had become teary eyed, Pest let out a soft sigh, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw.

Not wanting to see his lady love crying, he figured it was time for a distraction. He began to slowly slide his hands up her sides, his soft smile turning mischievous; and what better distraction to provide than grabbing her a little? He delivered a soft squeeze to her chest and murmured something to her, earning a startled yelp as her blush visibly darkened. Her sockets began to cloud with wars and she suddenly whirled around, practically seething in an effort to hide how flustered she was, "DAMNIT PEST, NOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHERS!" Completely unapologetic, Pestilence chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, his cheekbones tinted green, "Oops, my bad." War growled in irritation, narrowing her eyes at him. Before she had the chance to spit out a string of expletives, her body jerked in surprise and glitched as another set of arms wrapped around her excitedly.

Recognizing the familiar feeling of the other female rider's ecto pressing against her, War let out a deep sigh, "Hey there, Connie. I suppose you're here to feel the baby move too?" In response, Conquest continued hugging her, giving her a soft squeeze before pulling back and smiling slightly, "I'd like that, yes. If you're uncomfortable though, that's alright." War shook her head, her cheekbones still stained bright blue, "Nah, it's fine. Go ahead, I guess."

Conquest grinned widely, visibly glowing with excitement as she gently placed her hands on War's stomach. War glanced at Pestilence again, making a face, "Well, you might as well go see it Fam and Ret feel like doing this too, Pest. It'd at least give you something to do that doesn't involve getting handsy with me." Her soulmate shamelessly blew a kiss at her and made a sound of acknowledgement, "Awe, c'mon babe. Y'know you love it when I'm handsy." War's blush darkened even further and she shot him a half-hearted glare; laughing softly, he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and began to make his way out of the room. Watching him leave, War let out a faint sigh; she had no clue what she was getting into when she'd agreed to start a family with him, but as the days progressed, she was getting a better and better idea.

#writing #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #undertale #undertale au #pestilence.exe #war.exe #death.exe #reaper sans #conquest.exe

[forestwhisper3]

Welcome back to the SI/OC series, where I introduce my various brainchildren. This time around, though, we’re gonna do something a little different. Apart from giving you a couple of pics, I’ll also give you snippets that I’ve written out. This is mostly because I have nothing near resembling an actual fic and have literally just written segments.

It’s kinda long, so click the expand to read on.

So...this SI/OC is one that I’ve had in my head for a while. I mentioned her in one of Klonoadreams’s streams and figured I should probably mention her in this SI/OC series too. She is one of two for the Kingdom Hearts fandom, and when the mood strikes, I try to flesh out her story a little more. Maybe one day I’ll have something publishable. For now, here’s Ignis, a fellow student of Master Eraqus, along with Terra, Aqua, and Ventus:

This is her before everything goes to pot, however. The thing with this SI is that, despite her knowledge of the games, and despite all of her efforts to prevent the events of Birth by Sleep, she still fails. Master Xehanort is not a man easily defeated, after all. So, it is a weary, heartbroken Ignis that finds herself on Destiny Islands after she loses everything yet again...

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'This is...'

I smiled, knowing it was a bit wry in nature. After all, whenever I'd given the thought to being here, I'd never quite pictured it...like this.

"Whoa, you were right! There is another weird person here today!"

I found myself laughing at the comment without meaning to, the reaction startling me and filling me with sorrow all at once. It had felt like ages since I'd laughed so freely...

"Hey...are you okay?"

I looked at the two boys before me, ready to assure them that everything was fine but...the words just didn't want to come out.

"You're crying..."

Fingers touched my cheeks, only to come away wet. How did I not realize...?

I gave a start when I suddenly felt small arms wrap around me, the warmth of the action seeping into the chill that had seemed to settle in me these past days.

"Don't cry," Sora pleaded, his own eyes staring earnestly into my own. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

If my next laugh was mixed with a sob, I didn't think any of us would tell.

"You already have," I told him once I'd calmed down, making sure my smile was gentle.

"Really?"

"Yes. I think a hug was just what I needed. Thank you."

"Oh! I'm glad! I don't like seeing people sad."

I smiled, the warmth continuing to spread as I studied him. I'd thought...it would be strange to see them as children while not being the same age, but...this felt right.

Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.

"My name is Ignis," I began softly, "and I come from somewhere far from these shores."

"I knew it," Riku piped up. "You're from the outside world! Just like-...uhh..."

I chuckled a bit at his attempts to back up, clearly not wanting to break his promise.

"Going by your comment earlier, I'll have to assume you've met Terra or Aqua?"

"Yeah! Miss Aqua was nice!"

"Terra was too," Riku added.

"And he left you with something special," I finished.

"Err...yeah."

"What?! He gave you a present!? No fair!"

"Hey now, don't get upset. What's your name?"

"Sora!"

"Sora..." I put my hand out, smiling at his gasp when my Keyblade appeared. "Terra entrusted your friend with something very special because he must have seen something in him...just like I see it in you."

It wasn't just because I knew what was to come. Riku's light was...amazing- there was no doubt about that. But Sora-...Sora gave off his own light too. A light so warm, and loving, and kind that it chased away the darkness and made me feel safe. I know the games had always made Sora's light out to be something special, but...Being able to feel it, and knowing that both Aqua and Terra had passed him up for one reason or another made me want to cry all over again at the injustice of it all.

Sora would not be the backup plan. Not if I had anything to say about it.

"In your hand, take this key..."

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"Master!/Master Ignis!"

I groaned, turning over in my cot and doing my best to block out their yells and subsequent pounding at my door.

"Master!"

I yelped when a large weight practically threw itself upon me, sighing at the sound of Sora's giggles and Riku's snickers. Still, it wasn't quite enough to stop the smile that tugged on the edge of my lips.

"Alright, alright, I'm up. What are you two doing here so early anyway?"

Sora propped his chin up on his hands from his position on top of me and grinned. "It's not early. You just slept in!"

"Yeah...I thought adults were supposed to be responsible and stuff."

Riku laughed when I threw a pillow in his direction.

"You're lucky I like you," I said without any real heat.

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"This form was a particular favorite of Master Eraqus," I began, smiling slightly when I saw how much Sora and Riku were struggling to remain in position. "Not so much one of ours."

"I-...I can't feel my legs!"

"Don't tell me you-...you can't handle it, Sora!"

"Your legs are shaking too!"

I felt a laugh bubble up. God, those two really were like-

A sharp pang shot through me, and despite my best efforts, it left me feeling desolate all over again.

'I'll see them again. I know I will...but...twelve years is a long time.'

And I would be the only one to actually age.

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"Kairi, I understand that you don't like fighting like Sora and Riku do. Really. But...Keyblades don't just go to anyone- you have to be chosen. The fact that you have one...will you at least learn the basics? You don't have to use them, but you'll know them. Just in case."

She mulled it over for a while, before nodding.

"Thank you," I sighed out with a relieved smile.

"It...means a lot to you...doesn't it."

Despite my efforts to the contrary, the question made me freeze. By this point, the boys had given up any pretenses of being busy and were watching in unabashed curiosity. With a welling sadness that hadn't really dulled these past years and an ache in my heart, I nodded.

"It does," I confirmed quietly. "But more than that, I just want you three to be safe. To know how to take care of yourselves if-...Anyway, this is the best I can do."

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"Master Ignis, when-...when is Master Terra coming back?"

The question, sudden and unexpected as it was (though I really should have seen it coming), hit hard. All of a sudden, it felt like there was a vice-like grip around my heart, and I flinched so violently that there was no way I could have hidden the reaction.

And Riku- who was so clever and so observant that I was constantly reminded of Aqua -didn't fail to catch on.

"...He's not coming back. And...Master Aqua isn't either."

There was a deep hurt in his eyes, and hints of betrayal. All three of them were aware of how the relationship between Masters and students worked by now, which meant that they knew that despite the fact I was teaching all of them, only Sora was my true apprentice. The rightful heir of my teachings, so to speak.

"Oh, Riku," I breathed out, feeling that all too familiar twist of my heart, though this time, it was accompanied by the sharp sting of tears. "They-...They can't."

Riku blinked, the hurt look being replaced by a questioning one. A few feet back, Sora and Kairi watched on, too hesitant to get closer, but not enough to leave their friend completely.

I sighed, and if there was a breath of a sob mixed in, well, no one would know but me.

"Come on...I think it's time I told you."

They were young yet, but if I didn't tell them now, I didn't think I'd ever work up the strength to do it.

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"...When I finally managed to get back to Radiant Garden, there was no sign of Terra or Aqua- the only hint of their fate being the lingering chill in that courtyard. I-...I can only assume they were dragged into the Realm of Darkness. I spent the next few months searching for a way to get to them, as well as keeping an eye out for Ventus, but..."

"...You didn't find either," Riku finished sadly.

"No. Eventually, I found myself here, on these islands. When I saw you, I-...I knew that I couldn't leave. It would have been the height of negligence and cruelty to move on- to leave you ignorant of the legacy you bear. I knew Terra well enough to say that he had every intention of coming back for you, but since he can't, I will do my best to train you in his stead."

He was silent for a while, mulling it over. Finally, he nodded.

"Thank you for telling me, Master Ignis."

"What about Kairi?" Sora asked, his head tilted. "If Mister Terra chose Riku, and you chose me, who chose Kairi?"

"That would be Aqua," I told them. "Just like I could feel Terra's claim on Riku, I can feel Aqua's on Kairi."

"...I don't remember," Kairi said.

"Perhaps it's one of the things you've forgotten," I told her gently, even though I knew that even if she had remembered her meeting with Aqua, she still wouldn't have known when she was given the power. "But even if the mind forgets, the heart remembers."

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The stars were disappearing.

I looked up at the night sky, unease settling in my stomach as I watched another one blink out of existence. It was the third one this week, and while I now knew that some stars actually were just stars in this universe, I also knew that those weren't what was going out.

Xehanort was on the move again.

I'd been wondering about it for a while- mostly since the finer details of the games had slipped from my memory as the years passed -whether or not his plan had some sort of deadline he needed to meet. It seemed I'd gotten my answer. The question now, however, was how were things going to play out.

I was under no delusions that I hadn't derailed things. I had not only trained Sora, Riku, and Kairi, but I had actively done my best to keep them hidden. My unease mostly stemmed from worry over whether it had been enough. If it hadn't, then odds were that Xehanort was going to be paying a visit to the islands soon.

Just the thought of it made my blood run cold.

Ten years, and it still didn't feel like I'd had enough time. I had known what was going to happen, and I hadn't been able to stop it. It had taken everything Terra, Aqua, Ventus and I had had to fight him, and we'd still lost. This time, I was alone. If he came-...

If he came, I probably wasn't going to make it out alive.

I swallowed, feeling my eyes burn as I continued to stare up at the sky. Years ago, that was all I could have hoped for. Anything to escape the agony brought about by losing everything yet again. Now, however...

"Miss Ignis!"

"Master Ignis!"

"Master!"

I found that...I didn't want to go.

"Master...?"

I sighed, a small, wry smile making its way onto my face at the voice. He would be the one to run into me tonight, wouldn't he?

"You should be asleep, Sora," I scolded, though anyone could tell it was halfhearted at best.

"I can't," he said, settling down next to me.

"You should at least try," I told him. "You've got a big day tomorrow."

His grin was just as bright now as it was when I'd first met him.

"That's exactly why!" he exclaimed, turning his gaze up to the night sky. "We've always heard the stories, but to know that we'll actually get to go out there! To see other worlds! It's amazing!"

I couldn't help the fond smile that slipped onto my face at that. He was so much like them, and yet, the warmth he always seemed to instill was unique to him alone.

I hoped that by nurturing it in him, I'd thrown Xehanort's, and even the mysterious Master of Master's, plans awry.

"But," Sora continued, his much more subdued and hesitant tone instantly drawing my attention, "there's...something I've been meaning to ask."

"What is it?"

"If-...If Riku hadn't been chosen when you first got here...or if Kairi had already been with us and not chosen by Master Aqua...would you have still chosen me?"

I blinked, honestly taken aback at the question. "What?"

He seemed a bit more embarrassed now, but the question still seemed to be weighing him down. "It's just- since you've started teaching us how to sense light and darkness in others, me an' Kairi noticed that Riku's...bright. Like, really bright. Then I noticed later that I couldn't sense any darkness in Kairi, and I just-...I couldn't help but think that-...that I-..."

"That you were chosen only because they were first."

He winced and I felt my heart twist painfully at his small nod.

"Sora, no," I told him, perhaps a bit too vehemently, but maybe that would make him listen more. "No, that's not it at all."

I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and waited until he was looking back at me to continue. "Sora, even if I'd had the option, I still would have chosen you. Precisely because you are you."

"Because...I'm me?"

I smiled. "Maybe Riku's a bit brighter, and maybe Kairi's a bit purer, but you...You want to know what I see when I look at you?"

He hesitated for a moment, probably afraid of what I might say, but nodded in the end.

"I see a warm light. Soft and gentle, like a sunset on the beach. It was that very light that reached out to me ten years ago, and pulled me back from the abyss I could feel myself starting to slip into. Sora, I wasn't kidding when I said your hug was just what I needed. That warmth- your warmth -kept me from ending up just like the others."

He blinked rapidly, his eyes becoming glassy with tears, and I sighed softly before throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. Even after all I'd done, Sora had still ended up doubting himself and his place as a Keyblade wielder. Still, at least this had happened now, when I could set him straight, as opposed to later, when I...might not be around.

"...Do you really mean that?" he asked quietly.

"I do," I reassured him. "Never doubt yourself, Sora. If you ever find yourself feeling low just remember this:

I chose, and would always choose, you. Not Riku. Not Kairi. You. Because you are kind, and cheerful, and strong- even if you may not believe it at times. You also have something special that they don't: a warm light that welcomes all. A light that shelters and heals. I know, without a doubt, that you will do great things. Amazing things." I smiled down at him, my heart lightening at the small smile on his face as he looked back. "And you trust your master, don't you? So trust in me now."

"...Okay."

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Sora watched with growing concern as his master paled. His gaze fell onto the figure behind her, his eyes widening when he realized it was the man in the cloak he'd spoken with just yesterday.

"I must admit to some surprise," the man continued, seemingly unaffected by the storm that raged around them. "I thought I'd gotten rid of all of Eraqus's pupils, yet here you are- with students of your own, no less..."

She stiffened, finally whirling around to face him with a glare. "You will get nowhere near them, Xehanort!"

Suddenly the gravity of the danger was clear, and going by how Riku and Kairi seemed to freeze right next to him, they realized it too.

Xehanort. The man who was responsible for all of the bad things that had happened to Master Ignis and her friends. Because of him, Mister Terra couldn't be here to teach Riku, and Miss Aqua and Ventus were lost somewhere.

It was because of him that his master was so sad and lonely.

Even his laugh was sending chills down his spine. "Is that so? You may have ten more years under your belt, girl, but you're still nowhere close to my level."

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...To be continued?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! Maybe I’ll post snippets of my other, as of yet, unpublished SI/OC fics if you all like this well enough. I leave you with a picture of how Ignis looks at the end of these snippets, or rather, at the beginning of the events of KH1:

#SI/OC series #Ignis #Hearts- fanfic #Yeah I have a title for the fic despite not having much of a plot #Story snippets #Storytime with ForestWhisper3 #Brought to you by my brain

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Writer’s Review Tag

tagged by @muse-of-nightmares to do a tag she came up with, which is pretty awesome. Honestly I’ve been toying with doing something similar. 

Rules: Post two snippets of your writing. The first should be one of the oldest examples of your work that you can find (the older the better!), and the other has to be an excerpt from something more recent. Compare the two side by side to see the difference between what your writing looks like now and how it did then.

tagging @galadrieljones @lechatrouge673 @idrelle-miocovani @thevikingwoman @ma-sulevin  

onto exposing myself 

Originally I was just going to share the first chapter of my first fic in fandom, but I can offer you even older original fiction.I thought most of this story got lost in my last computer (RIP) but I found some pieces on my flash drive. A lot of it is horrifying but some of it is just mediocre. Here’s a snippet from what 18 year old me thought was going to be a part of the next great American novel (featuring 2 characters from England. Rowan is an actor and Ophelie is a writer who wrote a play Rowan starred in. though at this point Ophelie is still writing it. Also they were childhood lovers till he packed up and left for America, how Wuthering Heights of Rowan. Also, this takes place during WWII.)

           And then, she thought she could take it no longer. “Why did you leave me?” She asked in a breathless murmur. “Why did you ever want to leave me?”

           “What?” He said, but he heard her. Oh, he heard her, he was only stalling so he could think of a response.              

           “Why did you leave me? I loved you Rowan Hartley. I would have given everything for you. And you left me. I can still feel the pain after these years. I can still remember waking up and trying to find you, then realizing you weren’t there.”

           “Ophelie, I didn’t do it to hurt you. I didn’t do it because I didn’t love you. I wish you knew how much I did.”

“All evidence is toward the contrary.”

“I did it because I wasn’t worthy for you!”

           She could feel the fresh tears. “No. You were afraid of what you were feeling. That’s why you left. You didn’t know what would happen if you would have stayed, so you left me.

           “Maybe I left you because I started to wonder what would happen if I stayed. Maybe you would have changed your mind again and decided you didn’t really love me.”

           She bit the inside of her mouth so hard she tasted blood. “I wouldn’t have changed my mind again. Ever. I wrote you a letter Rowan, you never got it, but I wrote a letter. For all intents and purposes I was pledging myself to you, and asking for you to have me again. But you never got it.”  

           “That’s your answer to everything is it? To write it out? And if you loved me so much, then why didn’t you find me?” He demanded. “You knew where I was going. You could have tried to find me if you loved me so much.” 

(cut plot related dialogue for brevity)

“Let’s forget about the past. Let’s just work together to make something wonderful. And when it is I promise I will bring you from backstage and tell everyone in the audience, and all of the critics how you were the one that wrote this,” Rowan said.

           She nodded, after a while. “Alright.” She murmured. “I’m sorry I brought…that up.”

           “It’s alright.” He said, his hands still on her. “Do you think we can forget this ever happened, and forget about the past?”

           “I don’t think I can forget the past.” She admitted.

           In her eyes, there were tears. He wanted to wipe them away.

           “I don’t think I can either.” He admitted as well. “I don’t think there has ever been a day that passed were I didn’t think of you.” And then he kissed her on the cheek.

           It was only supposed to be a gentle sign of friendship, it was only to set them at ease again, so they could work. But Rowan was lying to himself. As soon as his lips touched her cheek she could hold it no longer. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.  

And here’s something from this August, my DA modern AU. Light spoilers but after fake dating for a bit so Cullen could have a plus one for his family reunion, he asked her to marry him so he could protect her under the Inquisition. (long story, it’s just relevant she said yes and now they’re talking about their wedding and their plans after.)

“Would you like to indulge in… after wedding activities?”

She looked at him with a mixture of bemusement and pure joy, if that was even possible. Then she laughed and laughed, grabbing and linking their arms together.

“I thought my sexual attraction was obvious.,” she said, still chuckling.

“It is?”

She laughed again and reminded him about the two times they danced, and every little touch she initiated with him. He put the pieces together, along with the fact that she did say yes to his question of marriage, along with the fact that yes, she wasn’t afraid of touching him, and then je supposed he was one of the stupidest men in Thedas.

“I like verbal confirmation,” he defended.

“Do you want me?”

The question burned. He had been so concerned with her, caught up in the “standard” of what wedding nights and honeymoons usual entailed that he didn’t think of what he wanted.

But he realized it was never a question. She unlocked something in him, set a spark that was now a fire. He wanted.

“Every time I see you, every time we touch,” he told her, “I feel…”

She waited. He saw his want as a fire, but could not bring that fire to a spark. He settled on “interesting.”

“Interesting?” She repeated, mildly amused. “Cullen.”

“I want to discover every little piece of you,” he said, damn it all if it was too much. “I want you in my arms…all the time, except sometimes we have clothes on but most of the times we don’t…”

Want continued to burn. He never really felt it like his before. He had small instances of infatuation in his time, the only notable one being Neria when he still lived in the Circle at Kinloch. He imagined himself taking her to a field of flowers, holding her hand and kissing her. Boyish fantasies, but ones that were his. Yes, sometimes he thought lewder things, but the shame of it all—she was one of his charges—prevented any daydreams from growing wilder.

His daydreamed wildly about Lydia. He was on fire at night when she stirred next to him, and he imagined what she would feel like sans clothes with bodies pressed together, imagined what she would taste like, and what she would say if he kissed her everywhere. He touched himself previously of course, though he hadn’t since he was home, but if there ever was a time where he wanted…

He didn’t. He waited, leaving himself cold at night, though still burning. It was torture.

Well. Judging by her conversation, he wasn’t going to have to wait for long.

“I wonder when you’ll kiss me,” Lydia muttered, and Cullen sensed her fire, burning brightly as his.

“You know,” he saw fit to point out, “you can just as easily kiss me.”

“True enough.”

He waited. He fully expected it then, but she indulged him with only the briefest of kisses against the corner of his mouth, but not his quite mouth. He tried not to completely sink into the earth, too defeated. The feeling of her lips however, though too brief, was divine.

“Today,” she said, a delicate and smooth finger caressing the line of his jaw, “you’ve satisfied me by saying you want us together naked, eventually anyway. I can wait.”

She kissed his cheek before propping him up so his mother could see his new battle scar.

Analysis: It’s the theatre in me, I like to tell stories through dialogue. In fact, I remember starting my red dead fic with the intent of improving my storytelling without so much of it, as I really wanted to focus on description. (Another story because there’s still a lot of dialogue in that fic, lol.) But I picked these two dialogues to talk about together because I have since learned dialogue scenes should be a gradual unraveling. It’s more apparent in the second scene, where the build is gradual. there’s also description and thoughts mixed in more tactfully, with the first scene escalating with no build. And sometimes that happens in real life, but I feel the dialogue isn’t as natural. I think though it is important to mention that the first scene is a drama while the second is more romantic comedy, which even veers to the screwball romantic comedy territory. 

let’s not even get started on much better my smut is now.

#oh god #please dont laugh lol #i was so stuck on rowan and ophelie #or Rophelie #but alas I think the story wasn't meant to be #I have a new fresh OTP I'm developing no #*now #hope to see them in writing soon