#and then hare told her to shut up

[papuhater]

EARFQUAKE

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚a/n: i'm fixiated. this is short because this is kind of them getting to know eachother ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ cw: reader knows spanish ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader

in which miguel o'hara falls in love with a married woman, married to his variant.

"so this is awkward"

"shut up parker" he spat out "what did you say?"

"y-you can't be-" she stepped away "miguel? why do you look like him, this doesn't make sense, i-"

"why did you call me cariño? huh?" miguel was aggravating

"y-you look exactly like my husband!" she was walking in circles, she had taken her phone out, and seemed to be searching for something

"look, ninety nine, that's not a good pickup line, so-" before he can talk, she climbs to his platform and showed him her phone

"no, i'm married, you look like my husband!" she showed him a picture, a picture of her, being kissed on the cheek

by him

miguel stares and then looks away

"i see."

"yeah, in my dimension i'm married to miguel b o'hara."

"oh." peter said and mayday babbled, he held her up "mayday took a dump, i gotta change her, goodbye." he ran with mayday in his hands, while the two of them just stood there.

"yeah."

"so i'm married in your dimension?"

"yes."

"to you?"

"mhm" she nodded, clearly annoyed

"¿qué vi en tí?"

"that's rude."

"you were too."

"because you were first, estupido." he rolled his eyes and shook his head

"anyways, look, ninety nine, i want you to join this society."

"why should i?"

he sighed loudly and massaged his temple, then he faced you

"look, we keep the multiverse in check, and we are a spider society, we fight anomalies, and we keep dimensions from dissapearing."

she took her mask of, revealing her face, and she stared at miguel with serious eyes

"what if i want to destroy the multiverse?" he visibly stiffened "just kidding."

"you better." he huffed while glaring, he grabbed a gizmo from the table and threw it to her direction, she quickly caught it and eyed it curiously, her lips tightening into a straight line as she cocked her head

"so... do i put this on my wrist?"

"no" he stared at her with full on seriousness "you place it on your neck, even though the gizmo looks like a watch" he huffed "of course you put it on your wrist."

"damn you don't need to be sarcastic"

"i have to be when i'm surrounded with pendejos."

"are you a fucking imbecil?"

"no, but you on the other hand, possibly"

"i told you empanadas de carne" he got closer, as if he was explaining to a little kid "not empanadas mixtas."

miguel had sent you to the cafeteria to get empanadas de carne, it had been a few months since you had joined, but you always ignored his wishes, it was hard to see him in a serious light, mostly because he has the face of your husband, it was very hard at first, your tongue slipping and calling him amor, cariño, etc., at first it bothered him, a lot, but then he got used to it.

"but you like empanadas mixtas-"

"warm, freshly baked ones, not cold freezing ones!" he growled, he turned away while muttering 'ya no puedo más' repeatedly.

"didn't you mami taught you to not be picky?" she swung towards him, with the carton in hand, she got closer to him "or did your mami feed you, until you were 10?" she cooed while grabbing an empanada

"aquí viene el avioncito~" she said in a sing-song voice, she made airplane sounds and lifted the empanada to his lips, they lightly touched them, he had a scowling face, and he pushed her gently with his arm.

"stop it" he scowled, while turning away, but you did the same

"oh c'mon" you pushed the empanada against his lips again

"¡parala!" he roared, expecting you to cower away, but you didn't, you shrugged and left the carton with the empanadas in his desk

"you better eat them or i swear-"

"ya, ya, lo hare." miguel shrugged you off

she took one empanada and left

"i'm clocking off, amor!"

your home was comfy, a nice apartment in the city of york nueva, you always made sure to check the windows, to see if miguel, well, your miguel, had arrived.

he hadn't, it was still afternoon, and he was at work. so she quickly dipped in one of the windows and took her mask off, she took a deep breath. and her routine began, she went to her room, changed into civilian clothes, and began cooking, possibly some caldito, and as she boiled the chicken, her phone rang.

"yes?"

'hola mi amor' miguel's sweet voice filled the speaker, and she smiled, this was her miguelito, not her boss.

"hey, how are you? how's work?" she asked,

'boring as always" he chuckled "so i called you to tell you that i'm not gonna make to dinner" her smile dropped "some co workers invited me to get some drinks"

"i could come" she offered, her miguel had started to drift away, as if there was a wall between them. there was a pregnant pause, filled with tension "that was stupid, you know, you can go, you don't need to ask for permission, have a nice night."

"okay, love you"

"...love you"

she hanged up and left the phone on the counter. she sighed and massaged her temples.

her and miguel were having a rough patch, it possibly began when she stated that she wanted kids, a lot.

miguel didn’t like children, and it created a big argument, harmful things were said, and a barrier was created between them

she sighed, went to her room and laid down, staring holes into the ceiling, the lone feeling crawled into her skin, and she felt cold.

“mierda” she mumbled and turned around, hugging herself.

it was going to be a long night

series list

translations:

"¿qué vi en tí?" =what did I saw in you?

amor, cariño = love, sweetie

párala= stop it

ya, ya, lo haré = okay, okay, I’ll do i

'hola mi amor' = hi mi love

caldito = soup

mierda= shit

taglist

@simeon-lovergirl

@allysunny

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o 'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #atsv #atsv x reader

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Imagine RoR darling that unconsciouly have the powers revive dead people that only activates when she starts to have overwhealming emotions of any kind (like grief/happiness/excitement etc)

She saw many people close to her fight eaxh other then dying one by one. At first she thoughens up and even bottled her emotions until she can take it any more and it burst from her then suddenly a flash of blinding light that came from her covers the arena then boom, all of the dead characters are revived

-You were such a sweet person, kind to all you met, even if they weren’t kind back, always willing to help others, and in general you were a ball of sunshine, it was hard for others to dislike you.

-You did your best to always make others happy, even if you didn’t feel happy yourself, fighting your own internal demons

-It was had to bring yourself back out of the darkness of depression, you’ve done it a few times and you know how hard the struggle is to do so, so you endeavor to make others happy, so they don’t have to fight that fight.

-You always kept a bottle on your emotions, only letting positive and happy emotions out, unaware that your bottle was beginning to crack.

-When Ragnarok was announced, you were horrified, appalled to learn of the decision of the gods to just get rid of humanity, rather than managing them, like they should have done in the first place, and it made your heart ache, thinking of all who would suffer due to it.

-You were unaware of your abilities, which only appeared when you had an explosion of emotion, usually when you had a breakdown, but your ability was one that made so many happy, despite your suffering leading up to it and afterwards, as you always felt tired and weak afterwards.

-Jack, a good friend of yours, and Buddha, could both see your pain, your inner turmoil, Jack being able to see your fluctuating emotions, despite the bright smile on your face. He felt for you, wanting to make others happy so they didn’t suffer in a similar way.

-Buddha did his best to help you, doing things that would make you happy, not telling you that he knew out right, as he knew that you would worry about bothering him.

-When Brunnhilde started looking for warriors to fight for humanity, you were scared, seeing those you cared about, both humans and gods, being selected, as you knew these fights were going to be fights to the death and you didn’t want to lose any of them.

-You were in the front row, sitting right on the edge between the two opposing sides, as you supported both sides and you didn’t want either one of the opponents to die.

-Watching Lu Bu, Adam, Poseidon, Hercules, and Raiden all die broke your heart, you tried to keep control of your tears and Jack tried his best to keep you calm, sensing a meltdown of emotion coming.

-As you watched Buddha and Zerofuku fight, your tears began to fall, your bottle of emotions cracking even more, even more so when Zerofuku was devoured by Hajun.

-You could see Zerofuku beaming down at Buddha, along with the Seven Lucky Gods before you clenched your eyes shut and what many could only describe as a flashbang, a huge explosion of light enveloped the arena.

-You were slumped in Jack’s arms and someone shouted, “Look!” in awe, everyone could only stare as everyone who had passed, including Cheng Gong, Red Hare, and Lu Bu’s army, and all of the Valkyries took form and all took in breaths that sounded like gasps as they were returned to life.

-Buddha whirled to see you being carried by Jack to the infirmary as the tournament was stopped, happy reunions happening all over- Zeus running to Poseidon and Hercules, Goll and Brunnhilde running to their sisters, happy tears all around.

-Many became curious about your ability, as it was so powerful and so sudden, but they were even more surprised when Buddha told them, after everyone met outside the infirmary, that you didn’t even know you could do that- it was something you did unconsciously when your emotions went wild- and seeing Zerofuku die was the boiling point.

-When you woke up, two days later, you felt super weak, but you couldn’t remember what happened, looking around the infirmary in confusion.

-You lifted a hand to your head, trying to will a headache away before you heard, “Y/N!” you were stunned when Adam hugged you, wrapping his arms around you carefully, holding you close. You blinked in confusion, “What- wait- what-what happened?!”

-All those who had died entered the infirmary, once you were sitting up, and you were stunned, tears appearing in your eyes, overflowing with happiness as you cupped Zerofuku’s cheeks, “How did this happen?”

-Shiva grinned warmly, patting Raiden on the back, “You did this- you flash-banged the whole arena and brought everyone back to life- knocking yourself out in the process.”

-Jack took a seat next to you, giving you a cup of tea to help with your headache, “As well as a fever.” Your eyes were quickly swirling around, confused as you didn’t believe them, “I did this…? No- how?! I don’t have any abilities like this!”

-Odin then approached, giving you a small nod, “You do- I was able to tell that you have an unknown ability to bring those who have died back from the dead when you have a burst of emotion- from what I gather, seeing those die before Zerofuku, with him being the final factor, made you feel so much anguish that your powers went berserk, but in a good way.”

-You found it a little hard to believe despite the proof standing right in front of you, but your friends all rallied around you, mainly because others wanted you to use your abilities to bring their own loved ones back to life, so you had to be protected, and they all started to dote on you, making you happy, helping with your depression so you were able to smile without forcing it for the first time in a long time.

-You were so lucky to have such wonderful people in your life who would do anything to keep you happy because you always worked so hard to do the same.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror buddha #ror jack the ripper

[howlingday]

Belated Easter prompt: Many people think that Jaune is a rabbit faunus, when he is in fact a Hare faunus (there's a difference), thanks to his ears. Those that don't know that quickly learn the difference. Velvet of course already knew that.

"Hey, there, Bunny Boy~!"

Jaune let out a sigh as his fears of Cardin approaching from behind were well-founded. He hated he was right. Every day, since initiation, Jaune had been subject to teasing, bullying, and assault at the hands of the taller boy. It didn't help that his cronies were always close by enough to support.

"I saw you and Velvet talking in the hall this morning." Cardin grinned. "She need her bunny boyfriend to come save her?"

"It's not like that." Jaune futilely defended.

"Aw, really? Then what's it like then?"

"He's been failing his classes, so maybe he needs some help." Russel leaned in. "Probably in math."

"Why?" Dove chuckled. "Figured rabbits would be good at multiplying."

"I'm not a rabbit." Jaune corrected.

"No?" Lark asked. "Those are some long ears for a mouse, don't you think?"

"Nah, he's definitely a rabbit." Jaune grunted as his ears were tugged at. Cardin showed no mercy taking a fistful of Jaune's ear. "See?"

"Argh! S-Stop it!" Jaune groaned.

"O-Over there, Professor!" The group turned and saw Professor Port stomping in a fury. His white, burly mustache was well-defined in front of his reddened face. As he chased after Team CRDL, Velvet approached Jaune. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Jaune stepped away.

"Let me see." Velvet demanded, making Jaune duck down and bend over. She let out a hum. "It doesn't look like he bruised you."

"I told you I'm fine." Jaune stood up straight.

"No, you're not." She said, wagging a finger. "You were being bullied and you did nothing, so I had to get help to help you."

"I could have handled it myself."

"Maybe, but not without getting hurt." She rubbed his arm. "You could have run away."

"Yeah, I could've." Jaune agreed, not looking her in the eye. "But that wouldn't stop them."

"They'd give up eventually."

"And then you would-" Jaune shut his mouth. He then felt slender arms wrap around his torso. "Sorry for making you worry."

"You're my boyfriend. It's my job to worry about you now."

"Thank you." Jaune hugged her back.

"Anything for my honey hare~." She cooed.

He let out a chuckle. "My beautiful bunny~."

Fun Fuct! Despite their similar appearance, there are many key differences between rabbits and hares. Rabbits are born blind and hairless while hares are born with fur. Hares build their nests above ground while most rabbits prefer to live in burrows. Rabbits are social animals while hares prefer to live alone, or in pairs.

Fun Fact! Female rabbits are notably more aggressive than males, and are more likely to be dominant in their social groupings. The alpha can be identified as the rabbit who patrols the most in the territory, and causes other rabbits to move out of their way.

Fun Fact! Rabbits and hare are incapable of breeding, as the two are entirely different species of animals that don't belong to the same genus. However, it should be noted Jaune and Velvet are neither rabbits nor hares, but people.

#rwby #jaune arc #velveteen knight #velvet scarlatina #cardin winchester #russel thrush #sky lark #dove bronzewing #hare!faunus jaune #peter port #happy easter #easter

[victoria-daydreams]

The Hare and The Tower

Chapter Four: So This Is Love

AN: With each chapter I post, more people find this story and it makes me so happy that all of you is enjoying it!

Trigger Warning: age gap

Word Count: 1.6k

Taglist: @riviaborns​ @dogmatic255​ @amethystwonders11 @snowymarvel1205 @helloimlateforeverything @newandykes

Summary: Jesmyn reaches a major turning point in her life, her decision will alter her future forever.

Chapter Five: The King’s Hand

113 AC, Westeros — One week later

Jesmyn could foresee it now. Her mother’s face to hearing the news of what she’s currently doing. Here she was running down the corridor, her dress tightly clutched in her fingers and keeping it just shy above her ankles. Oh gods, her mother's hands would be clasped in front of her mouth agape. It reminded Jesmyn of the terrible street plays that are performed, where they have a man playing a horribly exaggerated woman. It’s not her fault she's sprinting, honestly, a servant told her that her presence was needed “at once” in her family’s chambers.

She ran past another hall, feeling the bounce and swing of every coil in her hair. Jesmyn’s cloak trailed behind her and for a spare second, just as her hood slid off her head. She thought she saw two silver-haired figures from the corner of her eye. Abruptly, Jesmyn came to a sliding stop.

“Your Highnesses,” Jesmyn greeted out of breath, dropping into a deep curtsy.

“Where is the fire, Lady Jesmyn?” King Viserys questioned, with a chuckle motioning for her to rise.

“In my family’s chamber it seems, I was told, “at once’,” Jesmyn quipped, briefly glancing at Rhaenyra.

“Then we should not keep Lady Jesmyn any longer,” she suggested icily, her expression neutral.

“Quite right,” King Viserys agreed, sending her another smile.

She curtsied again, “Your Grace, Princess,” she said, taking off again.

Jesmyn continued her actions which were “unbecoming of a lady” until she reached the door to her room. She all but barreled through it, quickly shutting the heavy door behind her and hurried to common area.

“Mother! Father!” she called, slightly gasping for air. “Is everything alright? The servant-”

Jesmyn’s breath caught in her throat when her eyes landed on the three figures sitting at the table. Lady Clarick, Lord Clarick, and Lord Hightower. Jesmyn forced herself to make her mouth curve upwards, smiling nervously as she struggled to swallow the horror rising through her body.

“Seven hells, just let me perish of embarrassment at this very moment,” she thought.

Awkwardly, Jesmyn did a small curtsy, her stare dancing between all three faces. Her stare lingered on her mother, trying to gauge her reaction. There was not a trace of anger or dismay. Whatever transpired before her arrival left her mother in high spirits. Well enough to the point, she was willing to ignore her daughter’s unmistakable disheveled appearance.

“Lord Hightower,” Jesmyn acknowledged, trying to discretely smooth the creases from her dress as she moved closer to them. “It is a pleasure seeing you again. You must excuse my appearance, I was told there was an emergency,” she explained, making his mouth curve upwards.

"Likewise, Lady Jesmyn. It is always pleasing to see a kind face and yours is one I most welcome," he greeted back cordially.

Involuntarily, a girlish giggle slipped out Jesmyn which she tried to quickly mask into a cough. Blood rushed to her cheeks more and from under her lashes she saw Lord Hightower watching her with an amused expression.

"Jesmyn, my dear girl!" Lord Clarick said happily, clasping his hands together. “What wonderful news we have to share with you!” he said.

Sharing her father’s joyful expression, her mother stood up and walked over to Jesmyn, grabbing a hold of her hand.

“Why are Mother and Father acting so strange?” she thought.

“What news is that, Father?” Jesmyn asked, her brows drawing together as her mother led her towards the table.

“My daughter, Lord Hightower has asked for your hand in marriage!” Lady Clarick announced cheerfully.

Jesmyn’s jaw slackened, her body frozen with shock. Within a span of one second, she felt her heart stutter, stop, and then resume with frenzied beating. Surely, she had heard wrong. Her eyes shifting from her mother’s to Lord Hightower’s.  

"Wh-What did you just say?" Jesmyn asked breathlessly, attempting to control her breathing and slow her racing heart, both tasks she was miserably failing to do.  

Lord Hightower rose from his chair, "I ask for your hand in marriage, Lady Jesmyn," he repeated, his lips tugging into a smile absolutely charmed by her off balance.

Jesmyn felt like mush, at any given moment she was ready to melt into an unrecognizable puddle on the floor. She was giddy and buzzing with warmth.

Lord Clarick lightly dropped his hand against the table, “We will  give you two a moment of privacy,” he said, standing up himself.

"A splendid idea, I'm sure our Jesmyn is just delighted!" her mother gushed.

“Thank you Lord and Lady Clarick,” Lord Hightower replied, with another nod.

Her mother took Jesmyn’s hands in hers and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

She drew back slightly, "Well done girl!" she whispered, before gently patting her right cheek.

Taking her father’s hand, Jesmyn watched as both of her parents left the room, their posture a bit taller. For they knew their status in court was  about to drastically change in the very near future. The door shut with a loud creak, consuming the room in silence. It was the sort of sharp silence after a glass shatters against the floor. She wondered if he could hear heart pounding wildly within her chest.

"Are you teasing me?" Jesmyn said finally.

There was a small laugh from Lord Hightower, his eyes brimming with mirth.

“No, Jesmyn,” he answered, taking a step closer to her.

She felt a jolt deep in the pit of her stomach. Such a simple thing, yet the weight of it could not be overlooked. Her own mere name without her title, fell so easily from Lord Hightower’s lips that it evoked tingles all across her body. A ripple of excitement traveled through Jesmyn, she adored the way her name sounded with the rich timbre of his voice. She wanted him to say it over and over as if he were reciting a prayer.

“Grow old with me. Make me the happiest man in the realm," he said softly, bringing a hand up to remove a piece of hair hanging in her face.

In an instant, her giddiness morphed into another emotion entirely. A lump formed in her throat and she struggled to catch her breath as Lord Hightower's smile fell, concern replacing his grin. Jesmyn stepped backwards, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the swirling thoughts building in her head and the implications of accepting Lord Hightower’s proposal.

“What will Rhaenyra think? Gods, what would Alicent think? Seven hells, court gossipers will be following my every move more than they already have,”

Jesmyn glanced at Lord Hightower’s direction, she could see the confusion in his face, the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“Do you not love me, Jesmyn?”

“I do love you Otto, more than I can put in words,” she insisted, closing the space between them. “But I fear what people will say once they hear the news. All their worst opinions about me will be confirmed in their minds,” she explained, a wave of panic taking over her. “That I am some vulture, digging my claws into—”

Otto’s hands found themselves around the back of her neck, his lips colliding with Jesmyn’s and silencing her mid-sentence. She barely managed to let out a surprised gasp before she felt his lips moving against her own. Jesmyn’s hands reflexively ended up on his chest, holding onto him as she slowly melting into the sudden kiss. The world stopped for a moment, time had ceased to exist. All that remained was her and Otto, their bodies crushed together.

She pulled away to take a breath, panting slightly. Her eyes flit back up into the blue, kind eyes of Otto and giving her the sweetest smile ever. Gazing at her like she's his entire world. Jesmyn held his stare, dazed and wondering to herself what the hells just happened. In fact, she's not entirely sure if it actually happened.

"I see no vulture in front of me," Otto reassured, reaching out to caress her cheek. "I see a woman, who has consumed my every thought for months, day and night," he continued, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "My love, I am yours. Mind, body, and soul, I am yours," he proclaimed, smiling brightly.

Jesmyn's eyes were wide, glittering with unshed tears in the light of the sun. It was then a smile broke through her tears as she nodded her head up and down. She cupped her hand against his bearded cheek, laughing a beautiful, light, full laugh.

"Otto Hightower, keeper of my heart," Jesmyn professed, and he leaned into her touch as a flower would to the sun. The smooth bristles of his beard tickling under her palms. "Nothing would bring me greater joy than to be your lady wife. Dearest Otto, my love for you runs deep as the Summer Sea. And so shall it remain, until I draw my last breath,"

Immediately, Otto's hands came together at the small of her back, lifting her into the air and she emitted a small squeal which turned into laughter that blended with Otto's. Running her hand through his hair, Jesmyn brought his face to hers and kissed him again. Their lips moved together as if in a synchronized dance, reminiscent to the feast only a week ago. They kissed softly, it was chaste and delicate almost like the seal of a promise.

Jesmyn felt Otto slowly break the kiss, resting his forehead on hers. Their breath mingling between them, the tips of their noses bumping against each other. He smiled lovingly at her.

"Lady Hightower, my beautiful, beautiful wife,"

Chapter Six: The Lady Hightower

#house of the dragon x reader #otto hightower x reader #black!reader #black fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #black!oc #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #otto hightower x oc #hotd #got #game of thrones #house of the dragon

[recurring-polynya]

I had been thinking about it as a WIP, and I completely forgot how many deleted scenes I had from a little in love, now and then, acts i-iii

To make up for it, here's two versions (because of I couldn't decide between them) of prime ByaHisa banter from back when I was trying to decide (by writing every possible permutation, apparently) how much of Renji Hisana had already gotten figured out, and also of how much Hisana should pull Byakuya into her confidence. I think the final version I settled on did the best job of moving the story along in the way I wanted, but these are awfully fun and I'm a little sorry I had to trash them.

🌸 💮 🪷

version 1

Hisana shot him a sly look back. “It’s very pleasant to have a handsome young man fall in love with you,” she retorted. “I seem to remember someone trying to convince me of that, when he suggested that I leave my home and vocation to come do…” she waved her hand dismissively, “whatever it is I do around here.”

“I was a duplicitous youth, as we both know.” Byakuya considered his adjutant, who seemed much more relaxed to be walking with Rukia than… well, than Byakuya had ever seen the man. “You know I find our Rukia to be a young lady of utmost warmth and grace, but what leads you to believe Abarai has been felled by her many charms?”

“I only invited him over because I was testing a hypothesis,” Hisana explained, slipping her arm through Byakuya’s fondly. “And the evidence seemed to support my theory.”

“You’ve only met him a handful of times yourself,” Byakuya frowned. “What made you suspect an attachment? Do I need to give him a lecture on proper comportment during business hours?”

“Oh, no, he comports himself with perfect Sixth Division propriety, although it always cheers you up to deliver a good solid lecture on office etiquette.” Hisana paused to admire a particularly blue hydrangea. “I became very curious, you see, after you told me he agreed to that hare-brained scheme of yours to disrupt Rukia’s execution. A young man a mere month into his post as vice-captain would only have two reasons to do so, in my thinking, and I wished to know which it was.”

“Duty? Loyalty? Admiration of his wise and respected commanding officer? Is it not obvious?”

Hisana raised one well-sculpted eyebrow. “That was possibility number one. And, your incredible modesty aside, it seemed the most likely. I seem to recall you telling me he had seemed very… eager in his job application.”

“Vice-Captaincy of the Sixth is traditionally inherited. It was a rare opportunity that the position happened to be publicly advertised. Can I fault him for being rational? Not that I have seen any evidence of it, since.”

“Ahh, so you must have had a large number of fully completed applications dropped on your desk the very hour you announced the opening?”

“As you said, he clearly has great admiration and respect for myself, an open and shut case,” Byakuya replied grumpily. “What has this to do with your sister?”

“Possibility number two! His cooperation had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with the object of the rescue!”

“What makes you think they had any previous dealings with one another?” Byakuya asked. Of course, he knew about their previous dealings, Abarai had told him. He just wasn’t sure if Hisana knew about their previous dealings.

Hisana gave a disinterested half-shrug. “You had him watching over her while she was in lockdown, no? Picture it-- my poor sister, alone, despondent. A tragic waif!”

Byakuya regarded his wife with half-lidded eyes. “‘Despondent’ is a bit strong. My understanding is that when she wasn’t trying to gnaw through the bars, she verbally harassed him extensively.”

Hisana fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Who could possibly fall in love with a woman under such circumstances, eh?”

Byakuya smoothed the front of his kimono. “Only a great fool, clearly.”

“Precisely,” Hisana grinned back. “So, here is a man either greatly devoted to my darling husband, or infatuated with my precious sister. Either way, it was in my best interest to find out.”

“And you have determined it is the second?” Byakuya asked. “A shame. I shall fire him immediately.”

“I have determined…” Hisana corrected, “it is both. And you shall do nothing of the sort. He is clearly a man after my own heart, a kindred spirit.”

“You seem to have left one small item out of your assessment, my dear.”

“And what would that be?”

“What if she does not return the attachment? Perhaps jail is not nearly as romantic a time as you imagine, and she has hardly had time to form an opinion.”

Hisana rolled her eyes. “The jail bit was a lie. Goodness, Byakuya, don’t you even read the service records of the people you hire? He’s from Inuzuri, as if every word out of his mouth weren’t a dead giveaway, and he entered the Academy the same year Rukia did. At the very least they would have run into each other at the Shinigami Recruitment Station, but I would bet anything that if they weren’t childhood friends, they were childhood enemies, which is even better.” She narrowed her eyes grimly and gave a terse nod. “She knows him well enough, and if she hated him, she would have told me. Rukia has never hesitated for a moment to tell me about things she dislikes.”

“How did you get ahold of his service record?” Byakuya asked, horrified.

Hisana skidded to a halt, impressive, given the glacial pace at which they had been processing. She clutched at Byakuya’s sleeve. “Oh! Oh!” she gasped. Up ahead, on the bridge, Renji had his head tipped down toward Rukia’s. It only lasted a moment, and then he knelt down beside Touma, talking solemnly to the small boy, and pointing down at the water.

“Did you see that?” she whispered breathlessly.

“See what? That was nothing.” Byakuya squinted at the pair of young people and then back at his wife. “You are delusional.”

“My scheme is working perfectly,” Hisana announced grandly as Touma nearly tossed himself off the bridge, and Renji caught him neatly by the back of the hakama.

Byakuya had been married to Hisana for close to 50 years. This was not the first time he had heard these words. “As you say, dear,” he agreed. 

version 2

“I was surprised,” Hisana began loftily, “when you told me you had hired someone from the Eleventh.”

“I told you,” Byakuya interrupted, “his skills and test scores were superlative--”

Hisana waved a hand dismissively. “Not that part. Nothing you do is surprising. No the question is, why would someone from the Eleventh want to work for you?”

Byakuya made a hurt face. Hisana did not appear to notice. “So I asked around a bit, and it turns out he came from the Fifth. Who does that? People rarely transfer in and out of the Eleventh at all-- either you enter the Gotei through the Eleventh, or you avoid it like the plague, apparently.”

“Who have you been talking to?” Byakuya asked, perplexed.

“I assumed he was from Rukongai, for obvious reasons,” Hisana went on, “and I could tell he was from the deep south the moment he opened his mouth. And that made sense, I could see that. Comes to the big city, does well enough in school to get into a fancy pants squad, gets disillusioned, joins the brute squad. But if so, why set his sights on the Sixth, the fanciest pants of squads?”

Byakuya glared at his wife. He had specifically asked her not to refer to his unit as the “fanciest pants of squads” before. His glare did not seem to be as withering as he had hoped.

“No, the Eleventh was the outlier,” Hisana moved on. “I think he was there to brood.”

“You are ridiculous. No one joins the Eleventh for dramatic purposes.”

“You, Kuchiki Byakuya, threatened to join the Eleventh if your Grandfather wouldn’t let you marry me!”

“It was an idle threat and also, I told you to never speak of that. Also, you have truly spent more time thinking about this man than I ever have, and I spend most of my day in the same room as him.”

“He’s your second! You think I don’t care about the man who watches my husband’s back?”

“I think you find Gotei business to be exceedingly dull and this is most out of character for you.”

“All right, I got interested in him after both you and Rukia neglected to mention that he carried her around half the city and I had to hear it from someone else.”

#1500 follower deleted scenes fest #golly do i love to see any man get dragged by his beautiful wife #but *especially* this man

[sam-glade]

Find the Words Tag

Tagged by @cheeto-flavoured-pasta here and @i-can-even-burn-salad here. Thank you 💜

And I'll pass it gently to: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @chayscribbles @chauceryfairytales @zestymimblo - your words are: star, sun, light, dark.

Looking at Gifts of Fate, since I've got it at hand, and I'm SO CLOSE to being done with editing.

From @cheeto-flavoured-pasta: side, sound, heart, and utter

SIDE

The downpour started when they were half way to Beetletun. The ground turned to mud, and the leaves of the bushes that crawled up the sides of the causeway drooped heavy with water. No wonder that there was nobody else in sight, on the road or in the fields stretching to either side of it. Lissan walked with his head held low, blinking away rivulets that ran from his temples. His hood and jacket soaked through in minutes, and water had gathered in his boots and sloshed with every step.

SOUND

Marrik screamed when something started moving inside the rupture, black against black. He choked on the scream when the head of a grotesque monster emerged. Its body followed, cloven hooves clawing at the edge of the opening. It fell to the ground from a height that would have easily killed a person, and picked itself back up as if it was nothing. Even at a distance of over fifty paces, it looked enormous. A bull, Lissan thought, his heart pounding, his breath quick and shallow. It was twisted, and corrupted, and repulsively wrong, but its shape and features, and the way it stomped its legs, still resembled an irate bull. Lissan wanted to laugh at how the comparison made a normal bull into a creature as docile as a newborn kitten. The sound that escaped him was more of a whimper. He clamped his jaw shut.

HEAT

The herbalist’s hut was a lonesome little thing on the other side of the Lord’s Woods. The trees had always surrounded it in a motherly embrace, sheltering it from summer’s heat and the biting winds of winter. Now, six years after Old Barran’s passing, hazels and rowans encroached on the herb garden and the modest yard.

UTTER (while searching for it, I discovered that I use 'mutter' too much)

“I would have heard it easily, Princeling.” Ianim shot him a glare over the old, old nickname. Fair enough, Gullin supposed they had a third wheel with them. He offered a small, apologetic shrug. Ianim waved his hand. “Sure, but you’re the most powerful Sword of Air in our generation, and Lissan—” “Apparently channels Air,” Gullin finished. He sympathised with the kid on that front — having one’s senses honed to the extreme was an utter nuisance at times. He heard the conversations around each table in the pub, and he was able to make them out if he focused. He smelled each steaming plate that came out of the kitchen. He could also see in the dark, detect the movement of air and minute changes in temperature. It was the perfect knack for a whisper agent, back when he dabbled in the information trade, and now for a Sword in the Intelligence and Internal Security Corps.

~*~

From @i-can-even-burn-salad: grief, grow, game, gasp.

GRIEF GRIEVANCE

“Then what is it, lad?” Resigned, he told Zevan everything. Almost everything. Once he’d started talking, he struggled to stop. He poured out all of his grievances against the Usurper and vented his worries. Zevan nodded along, attentive, smiling comfortingly.

GROW

Within a couple of minutes, movement appeared in the fallow fields and on the forest floor. As Catnip released her powers, animals gathered around her — two foxes, a handful of hares, various rodents, and little birds. Ianim watched, fascinated like a child, and Gullin didn’t fault him for that. Catnip and her ever-growing menagerie were a wonder.

GAME

“Perhaps we can start with a game of chess, my prince?” Ianim froze. This was his sister’s game, and as with everything else she’d attempted, she excelled at it. He knew the rules of course, but the one time the First Prince had seen him playing with Master Claren — in a desperate effort to maybe not impress her but prove to her that he wasn’t utterly inept — she took one look at the board and walked out of the room, an icy gust sweeping after her.

GASP

He didn’t want to die. He refused to. He couldn’t die. He had to make sure that Marrik and Adya made it home, that the groceries were kept dry enough in his basket, that his father got back home later in the evening. The monster didn’t care. Lissan moved his arm out of the way of the teeth in the nick of time and pounded on its snout. Its jaw hit him on the chest. He gasped for air, ground his teeth, and hit it again. It only irritated the demon more.

#find the word tag #tag game #writeblr #writeblr tag game #gifts of fate

[butch-lionblaze]

I tried to draw but kept getting stuck on a specific image of how Hollystar would end, in this version of TBC the dream chapter instead being hers. I think if I actually was writing it in line with what I think her death would be it would be a lot more sharp and clear that she brought herself to this but I wanted some peace sooooooo that’s what this is

It felt like falling into the river rapids, is all Holly could think as it washes over everything. Every wound, old and new, now being caressed in a way that made her both wince and lean in further. A rough mother’s tongue. Of course her mind would twist back around to mothers. A thought that usually wrestled her from any sort of relaxation simply went with the water. Down down down in the endless current. What drove this stream to be so steady? What secret force lies within it? She could wonder for hours on the secret fuel to the way of the world but it again went right out her other ear. A distinct itch made her twitch, that of power she perceived being lost from her, but it too went away too quickly.

Was this peace? Was she dead? So many times Hollyle- Hollystar. Hollystar had believed her time had come upon her. Her final breaths left her. But it never was. Her heart always brought her right back to this crumbling place. She wished she was still Hollypaw. And Hollykit. When it was all clear cut and open doors. Now she’d shut so many she felt like she was suffocating. Maybe that was the water now breaching into her lungs. It didn’t bother her. Contemplation wasn’t something she had ever found comfort in. Yet in what she believed to be the end’s embrace it was kind. Too kind for a cat like her. She wouldn’t go to an above, Hollystar knows that. Not even this waterway could wash away the blood that clung to her. Despite her having caused so much more damage since him she always first thought of Ashfur when it came to her place in the after. He didn’t get this kind of mercy. She had made it long and painful. Ever since that lightless night she felt his death in everything. His thrashing in the hare that didn’t go down with the first bite, his panic in the bird caught in her claws, his eventual death in the cold body of Berrynose who also bled on her black paws. How many had she killed with her own claws? She didn’t want to continue that thought. And so the stream took the weight from her shoulders, and in turn she opened her mouth open to let it in further. If it could take away her pains then it could take her away.

Hope wasn’t something Hollystar had anymore. She hoped now though. She hoped this really was her last breaths. She hoped the world she left behind would recover. She hoped for her stain to be scrubbed away by the rain. She hoped she didn’t last around for long.

Wishing wasn’t something Hollystar ever had. She was told wishing was for the ones who couldn’t get what they wanted themselves. The cat that told her that originally also met his end to her beginning. It was similarly dragged out and horrible, but haunted her less when it wasn’t so much her fault. Now she wished he never died and left her to live. He never could take the blame. And she never could stick it to him.

Hollyleaf didn’t notice she was drowning. Her brain so swamped with thoughts and thoughts and thoughts. For once fate would give her what she wanted. For once one of her prayers would be answered.

Her final dream was the last shard of all she was. Found by a broken brother. The key to bringing back what she broke. This wouldn’t ever make up for what she did. All that she had done. But it was what she could do for them.

In her explosive end, at the center of the black hole she had become, was a little kit with one big wish. A wish for a world where she didn’t exist, and no more cats like her would be able to abuse the powers entrusted in them to protect. The greed would be cut as buds, wounds patched up, infections never left to fester. Never more would one so small handle so much. She would be the last star on earth.

One last gasp before Mother Earth returned her to where she was supposed to stay.

#I’m not a dialogue writer. this is mostly practice #but I do kinda like the feel of it even if it’s not exactly how I should be #in actuality it should be just as she’s speared and implodes but uhhhhhh I got stuck on the idea of her drifting into astream #also changed some things. #instead of Bristlefrost killing her it’s gonna be Lionblaze. They both die in the end and Jayfeather delivers the final dream before he also #dies. finally fullfiling her last wish #(the hope and wish idea is a sorts draw back to both their moms super editions too hehe) #Hollyleaf #wc au #warrior cats au #au drabble #au writing #tbc #the broken code #tbc au #my wc aus

[lobster-tales]

Lux's Adventures in Underland

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 This work is available here on AO3

Chapter 3: The Mad Tea-Party

The filled teapot crashed to the earth as Caitlyn ran to Lux, crushing her in an embrace that was returned wholeheartedly. "Oh, Lux," she choked out. Caitlyn smelled different: no longer like gunpowder and musk, but sweet bread and camellia leaves.

The Cat had leapt from Lux's shoulders, not wanting to be caught up in Caitlyn's arms. He hovered across the table, finding a seat beside what must have been the March Hare.

"You found us," Caitlyn whispered into her hair. "I can't believe you found us."

"Well, you sent Ekko." Lux pulled away, still in shock. "The owl."

"I asked him months... no, weeks." Her eyes, eyes that had always been like her mother's, sharp and clear, were now clouded and unsure. She glanced back at the other guests and asked, "Or was it days? When did I ask the owl?"

All three creatures shrugged. Caitlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "God, this place, Lux. It drives you mad."

"Well, it's Wonderland, of course it..." her voice faded. "Wait, I don't understand. How did you come to be the Mad Hatter?"

Caitlyn guided her to the table, muttering under her breath, "No room, no room." She very nearly shoved Lux into an armchair, forcing a cup of tea into her fingers. "It's a long story, Lux. But first." She clapped her hands together, a wildness tinting her features. "Introductions!" she yelled.

The Cat was the only one to remain still as the Hare and Dormouse leapt onto the table, arguing about who would go first.

"Oi!" Caitlyn reprimanded. "Shut it. Hare, you first."

He bounded towards Lux, so fast she was afraid he might bowl her over, but his long feet caught in two plates and he skidded to a stop in front of her. "March Hare, milady," and he kissed her knuckles. Another American, like Ekko. She focused on his face as she had with the Cat, and saw that he too was constantly shifting, his features rearranging slightly until, for a moment, he looked nearly human, with strong eyebrows and determined eyes. She blinked and he was a hare again.

Caitlyn cleared her throat. "You remember my friend Jayce Talis?"

"What?" she said, stunned. "Jayce?"

He grinned and bowed low. "Not my best look, I'll give you that."

The Cat chimed in, "I think it rather suits you," and flicked a bit of butter at him. In retaliation, Jayce whipped around and bounded towards him, tackling the Cat and both fell to the ground, laughing and snarling as they tussled.

"If he hasn't told you yet," Caitlyn said, offering her hand to the pink dormouse. "The Cat is Jayce's business partner, Viktor."

Lux frowned at him. "No, he left that part out."

The Cat, Viktor, managed a shrug before Jayce the Hare grabbed him and tossed him again.

"And this-" Caitlyn took the seat beside Lux, setting down the dormouse in front of her. "Is my partner."

Up close, Lux could much more clearly hear the mouse, who she saw had a tiny roman numeral symbol beneath one eye. "I'm Vi." The mouse stuck out a paw, which Lux met with a finger. Despite her small size, Vi jerked Lux's hand firmly.

There had been so many rumors in the society papers regarding Caitlyn's current paramour: the American, the prizefighter, the orphan. Lux had never expected their first meeting to occur under such bizarre circumstances, but she managed a, "Pleasure to meet you."

It was at that moment that the situation really settled in. Lux had been so prepared to save them from some ghastly dungeon. This development was far more... complicated.

Her head began to ache, confusion swirling with fear in her mind. "I-I don't understand. What happened to all of you?"

Vi the Dormouse placed a paw against a teapot. "You should get some tea first."

"Yes," said Jayce, abandoning his match with Viktor. With one solid bound, he was back on the table. Viktor followed, picking his way gracefully between the plates while Jayce simply crashed through. Lux feared about what all that broken porcelain would do to their skin and fur, but when she brushed a bit of it off the table, she found that it was soft to the touch.

She accepted the tea, which against all her suspicions, was actually quite the perfect temperature, and well steeped for an earl grey. Lux took a long sip, humming in contentment. "This tastes incredible."

"Thanks," said Caitlyn. "After this long, I've become quite good at it." She paused. "How-how long has it been?"

Lux winced. "Seven months."

"... What day is it? Jayce!"

He grabbed the buttery pocket-watch and hurled it at Caitlyn, who did not even look up as she caught. She flipped the lid, frowning at the face as if it would tell her the date.

"The fourth," said Lux.

"Two days wrong," Caitlyn sighed, then shot a glare at Jayce. "Serves me right to trust you. Butter indeed."

He threw up his paws, offended. "It was the best butter!"

Lux saw that the pocket-watch face had no clock, but a calendar instead. She wanted to inquire about it, but decided that there were more pressing matters. So, she cleared her throat. "You, um, were saying?"

"Right." Caitlyn closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, as if fighting off a headache. "Right. Well, I imagine you came down the same way we all did: following Ekko, the white owl, down the hollow, wandering for a while in the flower garden, then the woods, until we each made it to the Queen's castle."

"Of course, the Queen of Hearts," Lux murmured. A thought reared up, one she had not considered before. "Does she really... you know," and drew a line across her neck with a thumb.

"Depends on who you ask," said Jayce.

"The Queen of Hearts is the ruler of Underland," continued Caitlyn.

Lux wrinkled her nose in displeasure. "Underland? Is it not Wonderland?"

Vi shrugged, sipping from a miniature teacup that fit neatly in her paws. "We're underground, kind of. And it didn't seem very 'wondrous' to us."

"Plus," Jayce added. "It was the only thing we could agree on."

"I see..." though Lux was still unconvinced. "Sorry, go on."

Caitlyn explained that each of them were challenged to a game at the Queen's court, and told that if they won, they would be permitted to leave. But if the Queen won, they would have to stay and take on whatever role she assigned to them.

"How many people have won?" asked Lux. She received no answer.

Instead, Caitlyn said, "But none of us knew about the game before going in. That's something you'll have as an advantage. You can win, Lux, I believe it, and when you do, she'll have to let you go, send you back to the surface and you can get help."

"... But if I lose-"

Viktor said, casually, "Then your seat at the table becomes permanent."

Lux gulped. "Right."

There was another long moment of solemn silence, before they heard twigs crackling at the edge of the wood. Ekko stood there in his human form, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other spinning the chain of his pocket-watch. He would have seemed nonchalant if not for the intensity of his gaze.

"It's time," Caitlyn sighed. She rose and pulled Lux in for another embrace, murmuring, "You can do this, Lux. Just... please be careful."

❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢

Ekko and Lux walked in silence through the woods. Birds chirped at them, their songs changing melody halfway through.

"Ekko, right?" asked Lux, even though she knew his name.

He nodded.

"Are you also from... above?"

"Yeah. I was the first."

"Really?" Lux frowned at him. "I don't understand, though. Why you? Or Caitlyn or Jayce or Vi or Viktor. Why not anyone else?"

"That's who the Queen asked for. That's who I led down here."

She huffed. "So kidnapping people is just part of your job. And that's acceptable to you?"

Lux hoped he might be offended, that by pushing his buttons he would reveal more, but he just seemed resigned. Instead of answering, Ekko popped open the cover of his watch again, and Lux saw that his also showed the date instead of the hour.

She asked, "What's wrong with the pocket-watches here?"

"The Queen made it so that it's always tea time," he said. He sounded... remorseful, if not exhausted. He halted in his path. "We're taking too long." Ekko removed a small cookie from a pouch and handed it to Lux. "Just take a small bite, a little off the corner."

"Will it make me smaller or larger?"

"Smaller. It'll be faster if I fly us."

Lux had always been curious about what it would feel like to fly, but tried not to look too excited as she nibbled on the cookie. Soon she was three inches tall, and Ekko loomed above her in his owl form. She scaled his feathery back, nestling in behind his neck, then they were airborne.

She loved it. The wind whipped through her hair, loosening her locks from their prison, leaving a trail of pins behind them. Her stomach rolled as they dipped or ascended too quickly. She felt so brilliantly alive that she even laughed, and when she did so, Ekko chose to take a different path. They flew among the trees, ducking and weaving between branches that appeared and reappeared just as quickly. Lux clung to his feathers, leaning with each bank, thrilled by the movement.

At one clearing, Ekko rose above the canopy, gliding through the clear air, nothing but sky above.

Lux leaned in to where she assumed an owl's ear would be. "Why not a rabbit, by the way? Everyone else was changed into animals from the story except for you. And you seem to be able to shift at will."

"I have to change shape," he said. "Not a lot of people up there chase owls for no good reason."

"But why an owl?"

"I like owls. And I asked."

Lux considered this. Perhaps if she did lose, she could have her own request. She tried recalling different creatures from the story: the dodo, the puppy, the pig-baby... Oh, but a gryphon could be interesting! She was rather enjoying the current flight.

She caught herself then. Already making a contingency plan, not even believing in herself. Besides, someone deranged enough as the Queen might very well not give her any option.

The castle loomed before them, piercing the sky with its towers.

"What is she?" Lux both thought and said aloud. "Some sort of fae queen? A demon?"

He was silent for so long that she was about to repeat the question when he said, "She's lost, too."

Lux, surprised at the cryptic answer, decided it was better to drop the subject, especially as they had just crossed above the castle walls.

The town surrounding the castle was filled with various creatures: card soldiers, mostly, as well as frog- and fish-persons. Lux decided that, given the option between the two, she would prefer being a frog-person, as their webbed fingers seemed more dexterous than fins.

Ekko flew them over the final wall of the castle, alighting on the drawbridge, where a woman strutted forward to meet them. Lux saw that unlike the other card soldiers, her body was human, muscled in fact. She wore a cape off one shoulder with heart detailing along the hem, and Lux saw she had small heart tattoos in the corner of each eye.

Lux felt her hands slip, and realized Ekko was shifting back into his human form. She clung to the fabric of his jacket, taking a seat upon his shoulder once he had changed completely.

The woman scoffed at her. "Kind of puny, isn't she?"

"She's not her normal size, Sevika. Where's the Queen?"

Sevika curled her lip. "Where she always is." It hardly seemed like an invitation to Lux, but when the woman reentered the castle, Ekko followed.

Lux whispered in Ekko's ear, "What is her role?"

"Knave of Hearts," he said under his breath.

The castle was less red than Lux had expected: the tapestries, curtains, and rugs were in shades of pinks, purples, and deep maroon. Hearts were commonplace in the decor, woven into fabric, shaping archways and windows.

They passed by frog- and fish-persons in the hallway, as well as the occasional member of the Queen's court. Each noble wore long, draping fabrics, adorned with a matching card suit pattern. They looked human enough, features perhaps exaggerated slightly, yet there was a shifting unnaturalness to them. Lux squinted at each, trying to determine if they were captives too, but there was a glassiness to their eyes, a haughty indifference. The frog- and fish-persons seemed to have the same quality.

The Knave of Hearts, however, was undoubtedly real. She snapped and barked and strutted, kicked at servants who scurried away, snarled at nobles who scowled back. Lux wondered who she had been on the surface: perhaps a prizefighter, like Vi. She certainly had the attitude of one.

Other than the Knave's rumblings, there were few sounds in the vast halls. Whispers, perhaps, from nobles, the occasional swish of fins from a swaying fish-person.

Which is why it made such a difference when Lux heard the singing.

The voice was rough, lilting, and reminded Lux of waves crashing on shore rock. The scent of flour and berries wafted down the hallway. As the voice grew louder, it became accompanied by clattering dishware, bubbling liquid, and every now and then a soft boom!

Feeling apprehensive, Lux whispered to Ekko, "What is she doing?"

"Baking."

"Ah," said Lux, as if that explained anything.

As they approached the closed door of the kitchen, Lux steeled herself: the Queen of Hearts in the book illustrations had been a large-headed, middle-aged woman, boisterous and scowling. She had plagued Lux's childhood nightmares with her demands for decapitation. But now, the time had come for fears to be faced.

When Sevika the Knave creaked open the door, smoke puffed out in sparkly lavender. The lingering haze made it rather difficult to make anything out. As the smoke dispersed, Lux saw rows of baking pans and mixing bowls, whisks and spatulas, thrown all over the kitchen counters. Strangely, though, the display reminded her less of a kitchen, and more of a science laboratory.

A silhouette twirled in the fog, carrying a tray. As she danced around, two long, nearly floor-length braids spun with her. A small spired crown perched on her head: how it remained still during all that movement, Lux hadn't the faintest idea. Still, the Queen sang, unaware of them.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things: Of shoes— and ships— and sealing-wax -- Of cabbages—and kings -- And why the sea is boiling hot -- And whether pigs have wings.”

Sevika the Knave cleared her throat, a grating and impolite sound. "Your majesty."

The Queen froze, her wide skirt swishing around her. She stepped from the smoke, which seemed to evaporate when she did so.

She was a girl. A young woman, more aptly, and couldn't have been far off in age from Lux. Her long braids were blue, nearly teal. A shock of hair hung over half of her face, and her purple lips blew it aside. Her inquisitive eyes were ringed by heavy, black makeup.

Her garments made Lux blush. She wore no bodice, simply a black corset over thin straps of a matching chemise. Her shoulders and upper arms were bare, one tattooed with blue clouds, her forearms bound by black gloves that disappeared into oven mitts. The upper half of the ensemble rather reminded Lux of mourning clothes.

The skirt had multiple layers, the top of which was a ragged, vibrant heliotrope and black striped tulle that draped off either hip, heart symbols nestled between the lines. The skirt itself was layers of crinoline, deep violet from the waist to her knees, black underneath and ending just above the Queen's heavy, buckled boots.

Over all of it, she wore a soft pink, heart-shaped and quite stained apron, the pastries still held out in front of her.

Fae queen, Lux decided to herself.

The Queen's eyes darted from Sevika, who earned a sneer, to Ekko, who earned a slight grin. "You're back!" American accent. She squinted at the tiny Lux. "Who'd you bring this time?"

Lux stood as best she could on his shoulder and curtsied. "Your majesty!" she called as loud as she could, assuming she was too small to be heard at her normal register.

Rather than walk, the Queen seemed to glide across the room. She peered sharply at Lux, who saw up close that the Queen's eyes were a vivid pink. She also had the slightest splatter of freckles across her nose that, despite herself, Lux found rather adorable.

The Queen was still for a long moment, then said decisively, "Tart."

Lux's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

She grinned and offered the tray, which Lux saw was full of heart-shaped pastries. "Want one? Fresh out of the oven."

"Oh." The tarts, being half her current height, looked delicious, but entirely too filling for a three-inch-tall person. "Thank you very much, your majesty, but-"

"No buts!" And without warning, one of the oven-mitted hands wrapped around Lux and lifted her from Ekko's shoulder.

Her first instinct was to struggle, but she realized quite quickly that it was like being lifted by a large warm blanket and was actually quite pleasant, so she stilled. The Queen set her on the stone counter, instructing her to sit with her legs off the edge. A tart was placed beside her and after a bite or two of something called squimberry that tasted remarkably like apple, Lux was her normal size once more.

The tray clattered on the counter, oven mitts thrown across the room, then hands slammed down on either side of Lux's legs. The Queen hoisted herself up to study her, so close Lux could smell the flour on her clothes and the sweet tang of her breath. It was to both their surprise or perhaps neither's that Lux was a few inches taller: she had always been an above average height, where it appeared the Queen was just below.

After a long moment of consideration, the Queen smirked. "I know exactly where to put you." She swept back, and Lux found herself wanting the Queen to have lingered another moment. "Knave!"

"W-wait," said Lux, indignant. "Aren't we to play a game first?"

The Queen's face twisted, pink eyes flashing, but the expression fled as quickly as it had arrived. "Yeah sure, a game. Here's the rules: if I win, you have to stay here forever, understand?"

Lux nodded. "And if I win, I must be permitted to leave."

The Queen shook her hand, and Lux saw the black gloves were fingerless, revealing thin fingers and painted nails. "What game should we play?" the Queen mused more to herself than to any of them. "Horseshoes? Marbles?"

Ekko, who leaned against a counter across the kitchen, perked up, flipping his pocket-watch closed. "What about baseball?"

The Queen also seemed keen on this idea, but Lux had never played baseball: any other time, she might have jumped at the chance to try something new, but too much was on the line.

"What about," Lux asked, "Croquet?"

All considered her. "Is croquet hard?" asked the Queen.

"Not terribly." She explained the general rules, well enough that the Queen seemed satisfied.

"Alright then," said the Queen. "Croquet it is." And with that, she grabbed a saucer from the counter and smashed it to the floor. Porcelain shards flew across the floor, and Lux flinched as one went right to her foot. But the shard bounced off harmlessly, and when Lux went to touch it, the shard felt soft rather than sharp.

#lightcannon #lux crownguard #jinx #arcane #arcane fic #alice in wonderland #my fic

[jungle-angel]

Out in the Middle: Part 14

Summary: For the men of the house, a little guy time is all they need when things get crazy

Rhett climbed back up the rungs of the ladder that led into the duck blind, his cheeks reddened from the cold and the snow that had been falling since last night. A small radio was heard playing Otis Redding’s “Tramp” while the smell of something hot boiling on a little camp stove reached his nostrils. 

“Mornin shitheads,” he greeted. 

“Where you been?” Royal asked him. 

“Went to go take a piss in the woods and it froze mid-stream,” Rhett chuckled. “Any coffee?” 

“Got the good shit right here,” Thomas answered, handing him a mug. 

Rhett laughed a little as he took the steaming tin mug full of black coffee. He felt like he was ten again, ten and holed up in a treehouse with his fellow gang of ranch and reservation brats that ran feral all across Wabang with nothing between all of them except five dollars each and a portable cassette player.

“Birds come running through yet?” 

“Not a one,” Thomas answered. “Your dad, John and I have been on the lookout, but nothing.” 

“What about Mo?” 

“Mo hasn’t spotted anything either.” 

“Perry?” 

“Ah Perry’s probably takin a piss somewhere in the woods too,” Royal answered. “Except it probably froze and got him stuck to a tree.” 

Rhett laughed and took another sip of coffee before setting it on the crude windowsill. “Be a rough Thanksgiving if we can’t get a bird or two,” Rhett remarked. 

“Some years are better than others,” Thomas said with a shrug. “During the Forties, my mother had to make dinner with the rations she scrounged while my father was driving a gunboat around the South Pacific.” 

“Jeez,” Rhett said. “Must’ve been one hell of a year then.” 

“Oh yes,” Thomas added. “I remember seeing a picture of her and my grandfather together holding up the turkey they had caught.” 

“You still got it?” Rhett asked him. 

“Hanging up in the front hall at the house,” Thomas chuckled. “You would’ve loved her.....Marcella Rainwater was her name.”

Rhett, Thomas, Kayce, Rip, Royal and Thomas all lost themselves in the conversations as the next track on the radio began playing, a favorite of the Abbott boys and one that the men knew well, a little known Willie Nelson piece called “Roll Me Up And Smoke Me When I Die.” 

There still was no sign of Perry but Mo came back up just as the song started playing, the Rueger slung across his torso and his long braids hanging over his shoulders. “Who the fuck would’ve thought we’d have to come all this way just to catch Thanksgiving dinner?” he muttered. 

“Well that one year at the lake house......” Royal laughed.

“Don’t you start!” Mo told him. “I still have nightmares about that!” 

The men burst into laughter remembering one of Royal’s many horror stories about the little cabin on the lake. The snow continued to fall, piling on the pine branches in small, wet drifts as the men talked away. A small family of snowshoe hares darted into their dens as the quiet settled in. 

That’s when they spotted it.

“Oh shit,” Kayce whispered under his breath.

“What’s up?” Rhett asked him. 

“Big ol’ tom out there with the dummy.” 

Rhett held up his binoculars and peered out of the blind. He was fucking HUGE!!! He had to be at least a twenty pounder. 

“Oh my God,” Rhett muttered. “Where the hell’s Billy? He usually gets these things before we do.” 

The crack of a shot rang out in the air close to the blind. “I spoke too soon.” 

Out of the woods, they spotted Billy Tillerson, trudging his way through the snow  to grab the turkey along with Perry, hauling it off to the other duck blind so no other critters would find it. 

“There’s another one,” Kayce said. 

Rhett stuck a round into his Rueger, pushing the cartridge shut before pulling back on the safety and taking aim. His eye twitched a little as he peered through the scope, the crosshairs aimed just a little bit above......

*BANG!!!*

Rhett felt himself exhale as he lowered the rifle. No matter how many times he had been hunting in the past, there was no denying that the experience still hit him with an intensity that would have frightened most others. 

“You ok?” Mo asked him. 

“Yeah.....yeah I’m good,” Rhett replied. 

Mo gave him an understanding look before Rip climbed through the little trapdoor and down the ladder to get the bird. “It’s alright my friend,” Mo assured him. “I’ve hunted my whole life and still get that feeling sometimes.” 

“You do?”

“Oh yes,” Mo answered. “Shows we have a healthy respect for what’s given to us. I know people who’d run away just at the thought of it.” 

“Ya’ll sound like my best friend’s grandfather,” Rhett said, his smile growing a little broader. 

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been told that,” Mo chuckled. 

After a few more hours, the boys caught one more turkey and began the long trudge home, tired and aching from the cold and eager to sit back, relax and watch the football game that would be playing all day. 

God only knew they deserved it. 

#outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rip wheeler #kayce dutton #perry abbott #billy tillerson #thomas rainwater #john dutton #royal abbott

[grennefoam]

mi7 thoughts (with spoilers)

Mission Impossible is The Champion of Banger Opening. The Undefeatable King. The OG. The GOAT.

I especially enjoy the character development of every female character in MI7!!! Grace!!! Paris!!! White Widow/Alana!!! Ilsa!!! (/I'm immediately crushed to death by a rouge container swerving off the road)

I cant believe Briggs got better by having a government-appointed boyfriend I actually enjoy his and Degas's dynamic alot

While I feel this movie reached a satisfying end (unlike the cliffhanger in ATSV), it is more like an intermission. Which is so funny bc this movie is 3 hours long lmaoooo

Call me a heretic but I am in denial abt Ilsa's end in MI7. I do feel like her death is a red-haring for Gabriel, and it will come into effect in MI8. Or I'm just really delusional hahaha (/I'm immediately crushed to death by a r

mi8 benji era. i can feel it in my bones. McQ told this to me directly in a dream. believe me

I really enjoy Ethan & Grace's dynamic in this movie! They have a fascinating mentor-mentee relationship meanwhile he's supposed to be chasing her lol;; also I KNOW we got baited by the quote "your lives are more important than my own" from the trailer, however, i feel that quote was super impactful, and I really adore atwell's acting for that scene. For me, I can really feel that Grace was being left alone and struggling to live her life for so long she's especially wary of people like Ethan, and she can fuck up, she makes bad calls, she gets people hurt and killed unintentionally! That's characterization, that's delicious! Ill fight anyone who hates on my girl Grace

SPEAKING OF WOMEN...................... the number of times I saw Paris maiming and fighting and killing people in this movie and I went "god I wish that were me"...............................

Ethan "me and my boo don’t argue they tell me to shut up and i do" Hunt KJHSDKFHSLKJFLKSJFSDF

mi8 benthan era. i can feel it in my livers. Tom and Simon send me pigeon letters to inform me this. believe m

#mission impossible #mi7 spoilers #dead reckoning spoilers #dead reckoning part 1 #this movie is good this movie is cinema treat urself to good cinema experience #and support the strikes!

[akirakirxaa]

Fun with fantasias (whomever would most likely have fun with fantasias)

[FFXIV Naughty Fic Prompts. This was probably the one I was least prepared for haha. Decided to go Akiraha for this one. Takes place post-Endwalker but does not contain spoilers.]

Akira poked at her scaleless face as she looked into the mirror in her washroom. Fluffy pointed ears stood on the top of her head, not a horn in sight, and a thick bottle-brush tail swished quietly behind her as if it couldn't stay still.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to surprise G'raha with matching features that he would likely be much more familiar with than horns and scales. And it wouldn't be the first time she'd had a body other than the one she was born with. Meeting her own, almost gem-like gaze in the mirror though had her stomach twisting in nervous knots.

She would just have to stay in today until the potion wore off and she was back to normal. She couldn't possibly go out looking like-

She heard the door to her home open and G'raha call out "Akira, are you home?" She wasn't expecting the fur on her tail to fluff out like a puffer fish, and her ears went flat back in alarm. Gods, how do any miqo'te get through the day without embarrassing themselves with these accursed things?

"Don't come in!" she leaned back against the door to keep it shut. "I'm, uh, not decent." Dumb, dumb excuse. As if that was even a concern anymore. They'd seen everything of each other.

"Are you okay?" he asked through the door, and she jumped at the feel of her own tail brushing against her arm as it twitched. Stupid, dumb, hare-brained idea.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine, I'm just..." she struggled to reach for an excuse to get him out of the house until she went back to normal, but though she reached, she found nothing.

"Akira, let me in?" he asked, and she heard the tiny sound of his hand touching the handle. Could all miqo'te hear this well? A glance in the mirror told her her ears were still flat against her skull, and no matter how she tried to rearrange her features there was no hiding the nervousness on her face.

But he wasn't going to leave, so she may as well face the music.

"I um," she opened the door slowly, stepping back and picking at her hands. "I thought it might be...fun to match for a day, so to speak. I know, I know, it was a silly idea but it's only temporary so I should be back to normal in no t-" She was cut off by G'raha taking her hands in his, and she glanced up to see his ruby eyes sparkling with delight.

"I don't think it's a silly idea at all," he pressed his forehead to hers, and she felt the tension ease from her shoulders. "I love you no matter what you look like. But, if I may, I think you look quite lovely like this." She felt her face heat as her tail flicked rapidly.

"W-well, thanks," she stammered, and she stepped out of the washroom, joining him in their sitting room.

~*~

As the evening wore on, the pair could be found on their sofa before the fire, Akira curled contentedly into G'raha's side, ears no longer pressed flat in discomfort but instead flopping, relaxed as she leaned her head on his shoulder. An empty plate, now holding only crumbs, sat abandoned on the tea table between the sofa and the hearth.

Sometimes Akira was still in awe that such peace could even exist. That she could be allowed happiness after so many years of pain and loss. Sometimes she wondered if this was all a dream. But day after day she woke and it was all still here and-

Her ears pricked as she felt her chest vibrating. She wasn't unfamiliar with purring - she delighted in the sound when G'raha made it in their moments alone together - but she wasn't expecting that it would be so... automatic? Her ears flattened to the sides, and she heard a quiet chuckle before G'raha encouraged her to straddle his lap, taking her face in his hands.

"There's no reason to be embarrassed," he brushed his thumb over her cheek.

"Yes, well, you don't do it when we're just sitting here."

"I've also been able to purr my whole life. You've been able to for-" he glances at a nearby chronometer. "A few bells. There's a bit of a difference in practice, love." She pouted, one ear flicking.

"And these damn ears, how do you hide anything you're thinking?"

"With a hood," he joked, running his fingers through her hair and rubbing lightly at the base of one ear.

Her hands were a little late covering her mouth to catch the thoroughly undignified noise she made. His face split in an impish grin as she glared at him.

"You did that on purp-ahh," she cut off, fingers clenching in his tunic as he leaned forward suddenly and mouthed at her neck, just above her pulse, and she discovered without her scales to cover the skin that her neck was exceedingly sensitive. His fingers, still tangled in her hair, brushed over her ear again and a thin whine escaped her despite her best efforts.

"You...are being terribly mean to me," she panted out, face still hot, and he grinned against her throat.

"Oh really?" he sat back and withdrew his hands, leaving her sitting there flushed and breathing hard on his lap. "Then I guess I should stop then." She bared her (much sharper than his own, she was interested to find) fangs at him in frustration.

"I swear to the gods G'raha Tia if you don't get back over here and finish what you started-"

"Well that's not a very nice way to ask for what you want," his eyes sparkled with mischief and she felt the fur on her tail bristling in irritation. Damn him. They sat there for several moments, her tail lashing and him sitting there like he wasn't affected in the slightest.

(But she could see the faint blush growing on his own face, the tip of his tail twitching, and feel the evidence of how interested he really was from her seat on his lap.)

It was a standoff, and she knew exactly who was going to crumble first today. She didn't know why she was so readily turning to putty but she knew she'd never needed him more in her life.

"Please," she leaned fully forward, face pressed into the crook of his neck. "Please don't just leave me like this, Raha." There's a quiet little trill that comes from his throat and she wondered if she'd have been able to hear it in her normal body, or if it would send tingles all down her spine the same way.

"Then we should go somewhere more comfortable," he rumbled into her neck as he pulled her closer, nipping lightly with dull teeth. She nodded absentmindedly, and together they stumbled off the couch and towards their bedroom, bits of clothing pulled away and left behind like breadcrumbs as they went.

#ffxiv #g'raha tia #wolraha #ship: drunk on stars #miqo'te #thanks for the ask! #I know we didn't get *all the way there* so to speak but it's getting long and I'm happy with this #if y'all want a full version on AO3 let me know and maybe I'll work on that in the future :3 #non-explicit #my fanfiction

[heniareth]

@siriskulksnerding I’m getting back on you for the smooch yesterday!!! Have one from Ilanlas for Vanessa ^^

🌿🌼🌿

“And what about you, lethallan?”

“Me?” Vanessa looks at them with wide eyes and is already turning slightly red. “Why would I ever have kissed anybody?”

“I don’t know,” Tamlen says. “Maybe because you’re very pretty.”

Vanessa blushes all the way and Tamlen starts laughing. Ilanlas, however, narrows his eyes at Tamlen. He knows exactly why Tamlen is asking that question.

“What about you?” he asks Tamlen.

“Why do you want to know about me, huh?” Tamlen shoots back. “Is that dark haired fellow not what you expected him to be?”

Ilanlas loathes the feeling of his face heating up, and so he shoulders Tamlen in the side. Tamlen stumbles with a soft ‘oof’… right into Vanessa.

“Stop it, you two,” Vanessa chides and quickly helps Tamlen to upright himself and get within a respectable distance from her. “You are worse than children.”

“He started it,” Ilanlas says and points at Tamlen.

“Just because I don’t want to answer a question,” Tamlen protests.

“And why don’t you want to answer the question?” Ilanlas asks.

“I just don’t.” Tamlen points at his vallaslin, the skin around them still faintly red. “Dirthamen. Secrets, remember?”

“Do they still hurt?” Vanessa asks.

“No-o,” Tamlen says, not very convincingly. “Just sting a little.”

“Did you put the salve on as the Keeper told you to do?” Vanessa presses. “It looks very red over here.”

“Where?” Ilanlas asks, stepping closer.

“Over here,” Vanessa says, pointing next to Tamlen’s ear.

“What, there?” Ilanlas says and pokes the pink skin.

“Ow!” Tamlen jumps back. “Stop that!”

“So it does hurt,” Ilanlas says.

“Yeah, it does!” Tamlen rubs the sore spot and pouts. “You hedgehog.”

“Hare-foot,” Ilanlas shoots back.

“Mole-eyes.”

“Straw-head.”

“Oh, you did not-”

“Boys!” Vanessa shoves them apart and crosses her arms, glaring from one to the other. “That’s enough!”

“Yes, mother,” Ilanlas sighs.

A shove from Tamlen sends him stumbling. “She told you she doesn’t find that funny!”

“Stop! It!” Vanessa steps between them once more. “I don’t find any of this funny! If you keep on fighting like this, I’ll just leave without you.”

“Sorry,” Tamlen says.

Ilanlas grumbles and rubs his arm, but he shuts up.

They walk on in silence, for all of one minute. Then Tamlen turns back to Vanessa.

“Back to my original question: would you like to?”

“Like to what?” Vanessa asks.

“Kiss someone.”

Ilanlas barely contains a snort. There is hope, unmistakably hope, swinging in Tamlen’s voice.

“I…” Vanessa stammers, red once again. “I don’t know. Certainly not anybody who just comes along.”

“Different people have different boundaries,” Ilanlas grumbles.

“I didn’t mean that. You’re free to kiss whomever you like, lethallin,” Vanessa quickly amends. “I just meant… I don’t want to kiss anybody I don’t know, just for kissings’ sake.”

“But somebody you do know?” Tamlen asks softly.

Vanessa goes beet red and speeds up. “Come on. We are going to be late.”

-

The bonding ceremony is a big and colorful affair, like it always is. There are flowers everywhere, food is being prepared over every fire, laughter rings through the camp as the two clans celebrate the union of two of their people. Such a ceremony is the only moment outside of an Arlathvhen to find a partner who is not from your clan; Ilanlas’s original plan was to get the most out of this opportunity. Now, however, a new challenge has presented itself: his friends like each other and are too scared to admit it.

Something has to be done. And Ilanlas has an idea.

He casually sidles up to Vanessa as she is making her way out of the camp to check on the snares they set up earlier. Normally, they would walk in silence, enjoy the forest, each other’s company and the fact that neither of them feels the need to make unnecessary conversation. Not so no, however.

“Do you remember the challenge you lost to me a few days ago?” Ilanlas starts.

Vanessa turns to give him a look. “I’m still half convinced you cheated.”

“I did not,” Ilanlas says casually and picks up a gnarled piece of wood that has splintered off a root. He stows it away and then turns back to Vanessa. “And you accepted your defeat.”

“What is this about, lethallin?” Vanessa asks.

“The winner gets to decide what the next challenge will be about.” Ilanlas grins. “That is, I get to decide.”

“Dare I ask?” Vanessa says.

“I am so glad you have. I challenge you to talk to Tamlen.”

Vanessa stops. She turns around, confusion etched on her face, but if Ilanlas isn’t mistaken there’s also a brief flicker of panic there.

“That’s hardly a challenge, I talk with Tamlen all the time,” she says and crosses her arms.

Ilanlas shrugs. “Then you will have no problem to tell him that you like him.”

“I don’t!” Vanessa gasps.

Ilanlas gives her a dead stare.

“I really don’t!” Vanessa insists while her face goes red. “I just-”

“Mythal’s mercy, lethallan. Spare me.” Ilanlas steps over to the next snare and checks it. “He likes you too, you know?”

“He doesn’t,” Vanessa whispers.

“Does too. Did you set that snare up? It is not hooked properly.”

“I- you- You just moved it!”

Ilanlas grins as Vanessa shoulders past him, sets the snare right and then shoots him a withering glare.

“So.” He tilts his head to one side. “Will you accept the challenge or not?”

Vanessa swallows and stares out into the forest.

“I don’t even know what to tell him,” she says quietly.

“That’s not something I can help with,” Ilanlas says and shrugs.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Vanessa continues. “Walk up to him and just… Creators, no.”

“Sylaise and the Wolf is tonight,” Ilanlas offers. “If you can convince him to come, I will get you two a moment.”

“You mean you’ll cheat,” Vanessa says.

“I always cheat,” Ilanlas counters. “Except when it’s a challenge with you.”

Vanessa frowns and looks down at her boots.

The wind rustles through the trees.

Finally, she sighs. “Do you promise you will help?”

“On my right hand,” Ilanlas says with as much seriousness as he can muster.

“If I accept your challenge, you will have to speak to the dark haired hunter from the other clan,” Vanessa says.

This is a possibility. He has considered that this could happen. He should not be this surprised. Still, Ilanlas has trouble speaking for a moment.

“I will,” he finally manages. “And if I don’t, I will… help master Ilen out for a week.”

“Deal,” Vanessa says.

They shake hands.

“I cannot believe I am agreeing to this,” Vanessa mutters. “What do I even tell Tamlen?”

“Just tell him to come,” Ilanlas says. “I will explain the rest to him.”

"This better work, Ilanlas,” Vanessa says.

It better, Ilanlas thinks to himself.

-

Sylaise and the Wolf is probably the game played at every clan meeting. Especially at bonding ceremonies. Something about seeing two people bond for life makes everybody else want to find someone too. Ilanlas has never understood the rush until recently.

Still, it exists, and Sylaise and the Wolf gives everybody the perfect opportunity to get to know each other. Intimately. Supposedly. As intimately as you can get to know someone by kissing them.

Ilanlas cracked the code to the rhythmic dance years ago and has always used it to play the game without getting kissed or having to kiss. He has perfected it into an art, so much that the game has started to become boring. Not today. As soon as a very nervous looking Vanessa and a very confused Tamlen show up, he knows that this one will not be boring. And helping his friends will help him forget about the dark-haired hunter. It’s all benefits from this point on.

He walks up to intercept them and show them their places. Which isn’t easy when one is half as tall as everybody else.

“You’re here!” Vanessa says when he’s finally shouldered himself past the twenty or so people standing between him and his friends. “We’re here.”

“So I see,” Ilanlas says drily.

“You are planning something,” Tamlen says. “What are you planning?”

“I told you,” Vanessa says, twisting her finger into her hair in a way that screams nervousness.  “We play the game today. I don’t want to play alone.”

“Sure, but…” Tamlen looks around. “I thought you didn’t-”

A sharp whistle cuts through the crowd and people start lining themselves up in two concentric circles. The setting sun tints the whole scene a muddy orange, and the fires do the rest to provide them with ambient light.

“The game is about to start,” Ilanlas says. “Are we doing this or not?”

Tamlen looks from him to Vanessa and back to him. Ilanlas gives Vanessa a pointed look.

“I- Creators!” Vanessa looks frantically at the gathering crowd. “I agreed, let’s go.”

“Good.” Ilanlas nods towards the crowd. “You come with me. Tamlen, you go over there, next to Fenarel. Don’t touch the tokens, and don’t let anybody change places with you.”

“And you? What will you do?” Tamlen asks. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Just go.”

Ilanlas turns around and pulls Vanessa with him. He catches her turning towards where Tamlen has disappeared into the crowd several times. Finally, he reaches the spot where he’s already positioned his other ally.

“Hello,” Merrill greets them. “We’re dancing?”

“We’re dancing,” Ilanlas nods. “Lethallan? Last chance to back out.”

“Don’t put her under pressure,” Merrill says.

Vanessa’s hand is cold in his, and she looks a bit pale. “What if this doesn’t work, lethallin?”

“It will,” Ilanlas says. “Just stay close to Merrill.”

“What if somebody tries to kiss me?” Vanessa whispers, wide-eyed.

“They won’t, if you do not take the tokens,” Ilanlas says. “Trust me, I know what I am doing.”

“He does,” Merrill says. “If you want to dance, stand to my left.”

Still wide-eyed, still blushing, Vanessa occupies her place. “If I end up with somebody else-”

“Then you can run and blame me,” Ilanlas says. “Whatever. Do what Merrill tells you to. Don’t touch the tokens.”

He runs away to occupy his own place. Just in time. As soon as he steps into the innermost line, the music picks up, and the dance begins.

The concentric circles begin to slowly move in opposite directions. The dance is deliberately designed in such a way that it is nearly impossible to predict with whom you will end up. Dancer exchange places, occupy the opposite space in the circle only to then switch back, and there’s always someone who loses their place in the ring because they weren’t paying attention and has to squeeze back in wherever they can. There are also several tokens making rounds, passed from one dancer to the other. At a certain interval, they change places from the inner to the outer circle and vice-versa. Every time a token is passed from one person to the next, people use the opportunity to try and kiss the person who receives the token. On the mouth, sometimes. It’s all supposed to be in good fun and people dance for the explicit purpose to be kissed, but Ilanlas still hates it. You could go the whole dance without touching the tokens, but where is the fun in that? Ilanlas prefers to duck out of the way of the incoming kiss and be on his merry way before the other party knows what happened.

There are always two tokens that make up a pair. The dance has two parts; Sylaise’s tokens are in the game from the beginning and travel only during the first part of the dance. The wolf’s tokens are distributed at the beginning of the second part. One wolf token and one of Sylaise’s token each are marked with the same color. Those who at the end of the dance stand in front of a person whose token bears the same color as theirs may kiss and leave the dance if they so desire. The music picks up pace. Ilanlas keeps an eye out. One token has switched to the inner ring a few dancers to his left, and another is being passed around a few to his right. Ilanlas braces himself. The token will reach him in no time.

A big, blundering boy of an elf, already wearing his vallaslin, squeezes himself between Ilanlas and the token.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asks with a big grin over the music and turns back around.

“I actually do,” Ilanlas says, hooks his foot around the boy’s ankle and yanks his leg back with the next step. The boy yelps and crashes to the ground. The dance doesn’t stop. Ilanlas steps over the boy and the person in front of him hands him the token and blows a kiss his way. Ilanlas turns away to the tune of the music. He can hold on to the token for a maximum of three more steps.

Ilanlas moves with the rest of the innermost line to the right. One step, two, then Tamlen is right in front of him. Ilanlas slides the token into his hands.

“What-” Tamlen mouths and then the first part of the dance stops. The musicians get a moment to breathe while the wolf’s tokens are distributed. As soon as that’s done, the first notes of the second part start; this one is decidedly faster.

He will have to be careful.

They start moving. Ilanlas spots Vanessa’s flaming red somewhere to his right. He looks left and right for a token, but can’t find any. Blight it, did he get distracted? He takes his cue from the music to turn and switch to the other side of the innermost circle.

“Found it yet?” Fenarel asks from two places to his left. Tamlen is still next to him, clutching the token to his chest.

Ilanlas shakes his head before the dance drags them further and further apart.

Tamlen’s token was the green one. The warm light of the fire makes it hard to distinguish colors. Ilanlas strains his eyes.

There!

Or is that the blue one? No, it’s definitely green.

Every dance step brings him closer to the small thing. One turn, one turn more, then evade the person who will try to kiss him while grabbing the token and bringing it-

Oh no.

The person he will have to take the token from is the guy he tripped up.

Ilanlas looks left and right. He needs that token. Without thinking twice, he takes the person to his right and swings them around to switch their places. It’s a girl, and she laughs at the unexpected motion and takes it in stride. She turns to him, cheeky smile on her face, his insides freeze when suddenly something is being pressed into his hands.

“Heard you needed this,” a warm voice says.

Ilanlas looks up to see dark eyes framed by dark hair. He blushes. Fiercely.

The hunter, who is about his age and a good head taller, laughs. “I’ll see you later.”

And dances away.

Ilanlas spins around, towards the center of the circle and its other side, where he knows Vanessa will be close. She is still next to Merrill, looking like she is enjoying herself, but as soon as she sees him all apprehension is back on her face. Ilanlas is grinning by now. Step by step they get closer to one another, although not all the way there. There is a spin where the outer circle and the inner circle exchange places. Merrill grabs his hand and they spin around each other. Ilanlas lands next to Vanessa, presses the token into her hands and a kiss to her cheek.

“Now follow me,” he calls over the music.

They spin into the innermost circle, exchanging their place with Merrill. Ilanlas takes Vanessa through the center of the inner circle, towards its other side. Tamlen is over there, and lights up like the morning sun when he sees them come. Ilanlas lets Vanessa go, the music signals another turn and Tamlen grabs Vanessa’s hand to spin her into the outer circle, exchanging places with her. Vanessa laughs brightly. With a trilling note, the dance comes to an end.

“Hello,” Tamlen says, all soft voice and lopsided smile, and holds his token up.

“Hello,” Vanessa answers, holding her token up to his.

The colors match.

Ilanlas turns around and walks away. Whatever his friends do now is their business. His part in this plan is over, and they wouldn’t appreciate him listening in anyways. And he has his end of the challenge to uphold.

#hellooooooooooooo ^^ i hope you like this #i wasn't 100% sure if vanessa would participate in a game like this even with the odds in her favor buuuuuuuut. here we are ^^' #i hope i got her right #and i hope you enjoy this!! #vanessa mahariel #ilanlas mahariel #tamlen #smoochfest 2023 #my writings

[beachy--head]

Thank you so much for all the drabbles 🥰

Prompt: Ben's reaction when jackson tells him he's moving to boston with april and harriet without matthew 🤭

He's not a big fan of goodbyes, has never been, and it's not like he won't ever be coming back to Seattle, he'll see most of his coworkers again during future business trips, so he doesn't see the need for anything other that a pat on the back and a quick "see ya". But he has to admit that there are some persons he wants to personally say goodbye to, and Ben Warren, once potential plastics posse member, is one of them.

"Miranda told me. So Boston, uh?"

"Boston," he answers with a smile, because as the days pass, he's surer and surer of his decision.

"Taking Harriet with you?"

"Yeah, April's moving to Boston as well. I still can't believe it, to be honest."

"Wow, Matthew is an accommodating guy. Uprooting his life to follow you. Kepner must be very convincing."

"Oh, he's not... He's not coming, actually."

"He's not? They're... "

"Getting a divorce, yeah."

Of all the things Jackson has been expecting, Ben tilts his head back and actually laughs. And not a small one, it's a "I heard the most funniest joke and am struggling to breathe" kind of laugh. Jackson looks at him, disconcerted.

"Okay, I'll make sure to tell April you really feel sorry about her pain, man."

"Oh yeah, like you're sad the guy is not coming with you!"

"I won't go that far, but at least I'm not laughing about it." Ben throws him a pointed look. A "come on, dude" kind of look.

"Like you don't feel a tiny bit happy? Relieved ? Wait, no, smug?"

"I don't! And okay, sure, the guy wasn't my best friend, and he wasn't right for April, and he calls Harriet 'Hare-Hare', like who does that? And he cuts her sandwiches weird, but of course she likes it that way so I have to do the same, but I'm not smug! Well now maybe April will be able to work for the fundation, we could really use her talents for the new programs I want to... Why are you smiling?"

"Oh man, you're screwed. So screwed. Waiting game, I tell you. Let me know when the wedding is, because I expect to be invited this time."

Jackson shakes his head in disbelief. Ben Warren must have run in one too many fire and has officially lost it. The guy is delusional. Completely delusional.

Two years later, when Jackson's asking him to be his best man when he marries April in Boston, Warren wears the same infuriating grin, and Jackson has to ask him as politely as possible to shut up.

#drabble #japril #april kepner #jackson avery #ask

[discodeviant]

Not Duke, Not Prince - Part 6

Billy | Teen | 1.1k words Alternate Canon/Divergence

Made for @billyhargrovebingo!

It was a long conversation back in Hopper’s office. He said he wanted details, so Billy gave him details, down to the last shred of carrion stuck in his maw the day he ran off. “It was this… fat-fucking rabbit. I mean, like—“ He gestured with his hands to demonstrate its size. “And, no, it wasn’t a hare. Then, I don’t know… I fell asleep for a while…”

A long, long while in human standards, but for a cat that big, it was just long enough. He’d ambled and galloped for miles before hunkering down in the mouth of a cave near the foot of Sattler’s Quarry, cold and dark on a cold and dark night. He was thankful for the fur. The warmth he collected from his own body that kept in his mane and all up his limbs. The comfort in silence when there weren’t demands to be made and orders to which he bowed. The night sky that looked freeing for the first time since his mother left, full of stars and new promises.

Those weren’t details Hopper wanted to know about, however, and Billy didn’t tell him. Max and the stranger—she called him asswipe—sat to the side in folding chairs, listening in because they were a part of this too, for better or worse.

“They need to leave,” Billy said, not looking up from Hopper’s typewriter, and no questions were asked. Max looked a little hesitant to let Billy out of her sight, but Asswipe said there were peppermint sticks in the lobby, which she dragged herself out for anyway.

Then it was like the hospital again: Billy alone with Hawkins Police Chief Jim Hopper, only now he thought he might have been in real trouble. Aggravated assault, attempted murder, he couldn’t be certain; but anything looked better than going back to the house. The clean-trimmed moustache with a clean-shaven face and a spotless record to match. Hopper, at least, had something smug about him. “Okay,” he said to Billy, sliding the typewriter back where it was. “Well, I’ll start by asking about this Nina Herrera you were supposedly meant to go on a date with.” Billy’s fingers tensed around each other. “I’d like to believe you, but there is not a single woman in this city with that name, currently or in the records.” Hopper’s folded hands flattened on the desk. “Billy. You can be honest with me, alright? You don’t need to make up some girl—“

“I didn’t make her up, man. We dated back home. Sorta.” Hopper inhaled loud and deep as Billy shifted in his chair, watching him with a bored sheen in his eyes.

“But she’s still not here. So I’ll ask you again. Who were you going out with?”

“Man, why does it matter? She wasn’t even in the car—“

“Billy.”

“Wheeler! Okay? Wheeler.”

“Nancy Wheeler.” Hopper looked at him expectantly and kept a pointed gaze as Billy shook his head. He muttered inaudibly. “Speak up, Billy.”

“… Karen,” he said, and Hopper’s eyes blew wide open with his cheeks puffed out. He blew a long whistle and sat back in his rolling chair. “Shut the hell up, okay, I don’t need you ragging on me about that too.”

“Ragging on you?”

“Yeah, man. I get it, she’s married—“

“You’re a kid, Billy.”

He stared at the chief, taken aback, then said defensively, “I’m eighteen.”

Hopper told him again, “You’re a kid,” and there was a heavy silence between them that carried Billy’s beating heart with such care that he thought it just might have been safe. “We’ll talk about that another time, okay?” It was the softest Billy had ever heard him speak, and he wondered if fathers were supposed to talk that way. He nodded. “Okay. Right now, I need to know why you pounced on your dad so we can take care of this.”

Billy inhaled, hard and sharp, and twisted the ring around his thumb, unable to maintain eye contact. This was an interrogation, and he knew that, but it didn’t quite feel like one. There wasn’t a brooding figure standing ten feet above him. It was only Hopper, and, as far as he knew, Hopper was good.

“I didn’t want to let him do it first.”

What followed was a stiff, hour-long back-and-forth between questions and avoidant answers. Billy didn’t know how to talk about such things because no one had ever asked, and the truth was still too much to bear. He still wasn’t certain that Neil wouldn’t recover in less than a week and return to their status quo like nothing ever happened. He was waiting to find out that nothing happened at all; that he crashed and was comatose and in a deep, seedy kind of dream that he had yet to awake from. By the end of their conversation, with Hopper’s hand resting atop his own, he hoped he never would.

Max was called back into the room with Murray, as Billy learned his name was, who offered Billy his own bunker as a place to stay. Max tensed at the suggestion even though she knew it was likely their best option, and Billy assured her that he would be fine. “It’s only a few hours out,” Murray said. “And, clearly, I’m the only one even remotely qualified to keep you out of trouble.”

“What if it happens again?” asked Max.

“Well, I’d hope he knows I’m no longer a threat.” All eyes on Billy, who nodded quickly. “I also don’t have any fox-children to keep out of your teeth.”

Hopper all but growled himself. “Murray.”

“Do you really not think he has a right to know, Jim?”

Billy didn’t want to ask. “Know what?” They all looked at Hopper with their own expressions of curiosity and smug condescension.

“My daughter’s like you. I just don’t know how it works, and Murray’s got the”—he made a vague gesture with his fingers in Murray’s direction—“books and the doohickeys.” He sighed. “As much as it physically pains me to say this—I trust him. You’ll be fine, Billy. We’ll tell your dad that you’ve been taken into custody. You cool with that?”

Billy looked down at Max, who held his hands tightly in her own, and she looked back up with eyes just as piercing. This was one of those moments when she seemed more lion than he ever was, and he knew she would be fine without him for a while.

Not a long while. Just long enough.

So Illinois it was.

Sometimes all of your trauma spills out onto the police chief's desk without having to say a word, and you get to go on a road trip. Silver lining, right? :)

#.discowrites #stranger things #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #murray bauman #max mayfield #jim hopper #chief hopper #werelion #werelion au #werelion billy #fanfic #billy hargrove bingo

[goddesstrolls]

Ankiro stepped into his office, staring at the thick stack of paperwork in hand as he shut the door behind him.

He hadn’t gotten a few steps when he heard a voice- Having previously thought the room empty.

“Look at how big you’ve gotten!”

He looked up to see a lithe young woman seated on his desk, a wry grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. He stared for a long moment, trying to put a finger on the reason why she looked familiar.

An apologetic look flickered across her face.

“Kas. I’ve worked with Phiroe since you were...Well, since before you were hatched.”

“Ah. Apologies, I couldn’t recall your name.” Ankiro replied dryly as he strode over to set the paperwork down on the desk. Kas showed no sign of moving. “If you’re wondering where Phiroe is, I haven’t seen him in about a week.”

“You saw him as shortly as a week ago?” Kas folded her arms, leaning curiously towards him. “Lucky! It’s been about...Oh, three sweeps since I saw hide or hair of him.”

“Mm, that sounds like him. He’s gotten a wild hare up his ass about my work lately, hence why I’ve seen him around.” Ankiro said, still poring over the paperwork.

“Speaking of,” Kas unfolded her arms to grip the desk edge on either side of her. “I’m looking for work, if you’re hiring. I hear you run this place on your own, and that seems like a lot for someone your age.”

Ankiro shot her a dark look, and Kas raised her hands quickly in defense.

“I don’t mean any offense! I just- Look, everyone talks about how incredible everything you’ve done is, and it is! It is, really amazing what you’ve done with the ranch- I just, can’t help but hear that and worry about you.”

“Did Phiroe put you up to this?” Ankiro straightened, tone laced with suspicion, glowering at her.

“Hah?” Kas gave him a startled look. “I told you, I haven’t heard from him in sweeps. Ah...” She deflated, waving a hand in defeat and shaking her head. She hopped off his desk, brow knit.

“I apologize, Ankiro, I was overfamiliar. I am genuinely interested in the work you do here.” She swiftly produced a card from her jacket and offered it to him between two fingers. “Can we start over?”

Ankiro’s furrowed brow eased, and he accepted her card. It read only her name- Kasora Shevir- And her contact information.

Huh. He’d never known her full name.

“I’ll be around if you ever need an extra set of hands.” Kas continued. “I’ve got a Fleet-certified degree and twenty-two sweeps of experience, and I’d love to put it to good work.”

Kas shoved her hands into her pockets, a mildly worried look painting her face at her own inability to read Ankiro’s expression. Ankiro deigned not to reply immediately, and glanced at his watch.

“I need to give the animals their medication. Would you like a tour?”

#bastdrabbles #ankiro ic #ankiro melzau #ankiro writing #kasora shevir #kasora ic #kasora writing #hehe new troll :3

[reijniana]

Bloodfest: A Mother's Love

Author's Note: This is a bit different than my other writing, but this was what my mind drove me to do! I hope you enjoy the little drabble. My mental health has been not doing so well, so I thought I'd make something with a good, peaceful ending (of sorts). Also!!! The Bloodfest is being hosted by the lovely and talented @the-slasher-files! Go take a peek at the prompts and key words and perhaps write a little fic for yourself. TW: Description of Panic/Anxiety, Light Gore (not super detailed), otherwise it's mostly fluffy ig

prompts: Rope. Teeth. Size. Blood

keywords: Wicked. Rain

Her hands gripped onto the cold, soggy grass while her feet desperately tried to move her forward. She pushed herself upright, the soles of her shoes smacking against the ground and sending shockwaves through her legs. Her tired limbs are desperately trying to keep up with the primal instinct of survival, her torso lurching forward while her thighs burn from overexertion.

Breathlessly, she dashed into the forest, her feet skidding in the muck while the sound of too many footsteps thundered behind her. Lightning casted macabre shadows through the leaves, her arms wildly brushing any twig of branch aside as her panting breaths turned to panicked wheezing. The rain on the leaves covered the sound of her terrified whimpers until she careened forward, a disagreeable root catching the toe of her shoe. A terrified yelp erupted from her throat as she was sent careening into the dirt and leaves, twigs snapping under her weight and scratching up any vulnerable flesh. Hot tears began to stream down her cheeks while her mind frantically told her it was over - she was dead. She was oh so dead.

The snapping of twigs and branches along with the angry shouts let her know just how close they were. The cold forest floor held onto her body as exhaustion took over, closing her eyes and curling up into the fetal position. Their flashlights began to illuminate branches through the thicket, the ground seeming to tremble with each footstep that neared. The rustle of fabric made her eyes open, a distinctly large shadow being cast over her. She didn’t even know someone was in these woods with her - other than her assailants, of course. A subtle huff came from the shadowy figure as their hand dropped to their side, the undeniable glint of an axehead catching in the light.

“Mercy,” she murmured with dirty lips, squeezing her eyes shut as the shape loomed over her. She gulped and then felt the person step over her. Her head was silent and she did nothing, her aching limbs deciding that the forest floor was where she ought to be. Where she should eternally rest. The sterile white light of flashlights illuminating the darkness behind her eyelids let her know that her assailants were near, but the unholy gurgling noise and wet thud left her confused. A woman shrieked and the raucous noise of fearful footsteps made her eyes lazily open. She watched as they scattered like rats as that shadowy figure gave chase, reeling their arm back and throwing a hatchet into the back of a person’s skull. Some of the assailants tried to fight back in order to get to their target, but that figure was terrifyingly swift with each kill. The night kept her from seeing the blood spatter, but a wicked part of her wished she could see their faces as they perished.

Once all of the trespassers were finished off, the tall figure began to hum. A familiar tune, one heard in nurseries. The figure came back over to the girl, crouching down as lightning illuminated the sky once more. A homemade rabbit mask greeted the girl as strong arms cradled the girl. The hare-masked figure lulled the terrified girl to sleep in her arms, taking her back to somewhere that the Huntress knew this girl would be safe. When the strange girl opened her dirty eyelids, the warmth of a large fire kissed her cold cheeks and with each beckoning finger of flame, she crawled towards it, finding a hand-stitched quilt had been wrapped around her. Towards the heat. Towards the warmth. Her instincts made the girl's weak arms slowly pull her across the stone floor to the hearth. As she neared, there was something holding her back. Looking down, there was a grass rope tied around her ankles, keeping them together so she couldn't escape. With a dissatisfied huff, she laid on her belly and reached outwards, feeling the heat emanating from the flames and giving her feeling back in her fingertips. The peaceful lullaby neared, filling the tranquil forest with an angelic hymn. The Huntress' hums were so thoroughly perfected that it was hard for the strange girl not to turn her head and ogle at the hare-masked woman outside. The rich tones and mature vibrato made the girl's heavy eyelids sink down, fluttering as they tried to stay open. However, a mother's song warms the depth of a lost soul and mends the wounds of stolen time.

#sfbf #horror #fanfic #my writing #sfw #the huntress #dbd fanfic #huntress dbd #slasher fandom #horror community #drabble #bunny mom