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#arknights fic
altairair · 5 months
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Hey guys! I've finally finished the second chapter of my Ebenkreide work, and I'm really happy with how it turned out :D Small note though, it is being planned to be a rather angsty fic, but if that doesn't bother you, then you can give it a go~
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nightlist · 5 months
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Dancing as Art
a lil gladiia/irene fic bazed zolely on one line in irenez file
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moszeel · 9 months
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hey so I finished chapter 1 of the SkaSpec Reverse AU fic
It’s not beta read since 1) I’m lazy 2) I’d never publish it cause I’d be trying to get it to be perfect.  maybe I’ll get chapter 2 out in another 6 months. Also I’m uploading this to Ao3 in a bit, so I’ll updated it with link when that happens. Please give me criticism I have no idea what I’m doing 
Rated Teen + Warnings for descriptions of blood and injuries
A vast ocean of stars sway and flicker in and out of Laurentina’s view. At least, she assumes that what they are. That’s what would make the most sense. Hmm, no. That can’t be right. To be seeing stars would mean she was on the surface, but just moments ago the unit was deep within the sea being crushed by waves of seaborn. It would make much more sense for this to be a trick. Perhaps I have died? Well, that was anticlimactic, she mused. Maybe this was her dying brain’s attempt at comfort. At the very least, this limbo made the pain subside. Letting eyelids slip close once again was but a matter of course. What will I tell captain?  how I bravely fought the seaborn till—
         A familiar sound. Waves. Crashing, but not against each other? Blinking out the remaining sea water leaves a dull sting, and the stars greet her once more. Though this time they look less like a painter’s timid splotches. For some reason, and really who is she to judge, she thought they’d look more, impressive. Foreign poets stated it as a gift bestowed from the very heavens. Singers would pour out their heart and soul trying to describe it. Gladdia said it was there. Hah
         Deep aches grip every muscle in her body. Usually in these situations the cold water would be soothing, However just the sea foam is enough to cause shivers. Hypothermia would be an even worse way to go. She lets out a sigh. Sooner or later she would have to check for injuries. Tis a rookie mistake to assume the aches were the worst of it.
           Let’s see if this truly is a dream. Deciding to start with the left wrist, she tries to turn it clockwise. In return, it continues to lay limply on... the sand. So, this is a beach. Well, that explains the water. Brushing this new found knowledge aside, she continues up the arm and up to the elbow. Still nothing. Shoulder, nothing. Strange, at the very least this should’ve healed. Not having the patience to go through the same motions with her arm, she kicks her left leg straight. Unsurprisingly the leg buckles, and pain floods it’s nerves. Although, the attempt on the right leg doesn’t go nearly as bad, as it can swivel without too much trouble.
           The other arm can move somewhat fine, but the limp arm has yet to heal. Go figures. With the usable arm, Laurentina props up onto her elbow, and with whatever remaining conviction, finally looks at the damage.
Two types of blood stain her uniform.
The deep, fleshy blood of both her and her comrades, and the fluorescent, alien blue floating like oil in it. A chuckle escapes
          To no one in particular. With a surprisingly stable hand, the check up has begun. Just a quick brush of the hand confirms that there are open wounds. Fair enough
           A freezing chill rushes down her spine. Ears strain for anything, yet the same crash of waves is all there is. No new scents either. Short glances across the empty beach reveal very little. Perhaps she should’ve checked the area earlier? Now’s not really the time to dwell though, considering the situation. Soon enough her gaze is focused back on the myriad of cuts and gashes. Very few have begun to even scab over, and although most of the bleeding stopped, the feeling of sea salt trying to force its way through opened cuts doesn’t inspire hope.
              Although the excessive re-checks take much longer than usual, it pays off. The injuries include a few fractures, cuts of varying lengths and depths, and a handful of hyperextended joints. Which, really, isn’t the absolute worst state she’s been in. With a short huff, she places her palms onto the grey sand, and begins shifting the weight in her legs. After getting them into the right position, all that’s left is to get up. A quick  push from the left arm gets most of her torso to lurch forward. Maybe a bit too forward, as she can feel herself rock far past her knees.
           The expected feeling of splashing face first into the waves never comes. Instead, she can feel her hands and knees  be tugged at by the receding waves. Dragging a leg up to her chest, and then using both of her wobbling hands, she begins to push the rest of her body back up. At first, the tremors stop for just long enough to prop her legs up without too much pain. Just as quickly do they come back. Couple that with the sudden waves of nausea and it’s nearly impossible to keep going. However, by some miracle, she manages to keep up upright, and takes her first step.
(This was written like 3 months ago but I didn’t know how to end it so yeah.)
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madnessmadness · 7 months
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This is the best comment I've ever been left on my fav most self indulgent fic. Same Bread Eater Overlord I hope that catthem and their funky lizard boy do fuck all forever they earned it.
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johannstutt413 · 1 year
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“Doctor!” As he was rounding a corner on the way to a meeting, the Doctor was blindsided by a powerful force and swept off his feet into the arms of an Acahuallan. “I’m back.”
He wheezed in her ear. “Welcome… back…”
“Oops, my bad. Here.” The Invincible Gavial set her dear friend back on his feet.
“Th-thanks,” he sputtered, coughing before finally getting a chance to catch his breath. Once he had, though, the Doctor immediately went back for a second hug. “How’s the new kit?”
The Archosaurian grinned from ear to ear. “Still a Medic at heart, but Zumama’s axe is pretty great. Couldn’t have cut that tunnel outta that rock with my staff, that’s for sure.”
“You couldn’t what.” He hadn’t seen the reports yet.
“I’m sure someone wrote it down.” She glanced around the hall. “Are you busy right now?”
The Doctor grimaced. “I’ve got a meeting, actually. After that, though?”
“Yeah… Yeah, it’s nothing urgent, I guess. I’ll drop by your office later.”
“Sounds great.” Gavial let go of him, but as he walked past, he couldn’t help but notice something. “Hey, Gav, did your tail-”
*SMACK* As if on cue, it slapped the ground. “Did my tail what?”
“Neeeeevermind.” He chuckled to himself as he continued his walk. Still a pet peeve of hers, it seemed.
The meeting went surprisingly fast, but rather than take a leisurely stroll back to his office, he hurried through the halls on the off chance that Gavial was waiting for him.
“Huh.” She was. “That was quick. Went to check on my patients, but they all got reassigned while I was out.”
The Doctor frowned as he closed the door behind him. “Really? Nothing serious, I hope?”
“I think they just thought it was a convenient time to be switched. Speaking of, how are you doing? Haven’t been here to give you a physical for a while.” The Acahuallan slapped the couch cushion next to hers.
“Sid and Hibiscus are trying to turn me into an athlete,” he replied, wincing as his shoulder reminded him of that morning’s workout, “but other than that, no major concerns… It really did get thicker-”
The Invincible groaned as her tail smacked the armrest it was draped over. “I need to carry my staff with something, and I’ve only got two hands. Doesn’t mean I want it getting thick.”
“What’s wrong with a thick tail?” They’d have this conversation before; it always made him laugh how flustered she got about it.
“I- we can do this later.” She shook her head. “There’s something serious I need to ask you.”
He straightened his back, making it crack, to reflect the new mood. “Something serious, huh?”
“Yeah. I… shit, I told myself it’d be hard to say, but I thought I’d still have the words to say it, at least.”
“Take your time.” She didn’t say anything for a while, so the Doctor continued. “Did something happen while you were out there?”
Gavial leaned back. “No, I’ve had this on my mind for a while, just didn’t make sense to bring it up before.”
“Really?” He had no idea what she was worrying over, then.
“I’m going back out into the field as a Guard rather than a Medic because Dr. Kal’tsit said a Medic shouldn’t be beating the shit out of people, and she’s got a point.” The Acahuallan glanced at her weapons resting against the office wall. “Thing is, most of my patients are already scared of me, and I don’t think waving Zumama’s ax and chainsaw around is gonna help with that… I don’t scare you, too, do I?”
He stared at her. “I’m not scared you’re going to hurt me, no.”
“Good.” The physician sighed with a smile.
“You do scare me, though.” The smile immediately disappeared. “I know you always reassure people that you know your body best, that despite your COA having risen over the past year even with all the precautions and treatments you’re still fit for the field, but every day I worry that it might be the last I get to see you. Now that you’re gonna be on the frontlines on Kal’tsit’s orders…”
The Invincible had never looked more vulnerable as she gently slid an arm around his shoulders. “I’m not gonna die out there, Doctor. Not while you’re still around.”
“You’ll always come back to me?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her eye with her free hand. “Shit, why’d you have to go and say it like that?”
The Doctor wiped a tear from his face. “Sorry, I just remembered that one time you were in the ICU. I cried myself to sleep that night, you know.”
“...No, I didn’t know that.” Gavial slid closer.
“Even just the idea of you-” In the blink of an eye, he went from sitting on the couch to being gator-rolled into position; when the world wasn’t spinning anymore, he was lying on top of the Acahuallan, his head gently cradled against her neck. “I- How did you-”
She flipped back his hood to start stroking the back of his head. “If it works on a deer, it works on my dearest friend.”
“‘I’m your ‘dearest’ friend…” The thought almost made him feverish.
“The road’s not so lonely anymore, but there’s no one I wanna walk it with than you.” Her head turned, leaving her lips millimeters from his forehead. “I still haven’t gotten used to the air conditioning in this place.”
Oh really? “...Is that really the best you got?”
“The best ‘what?’”
“You’re friends with Tomimi,” the Doctor snickered, “I thought your pickup lines would be better.”
Gavial snorted. “Right, because hers worked so well on me. Why would I need a line, anyway?”
“I guess you’re right. All you’d have to do is ask….” He looked at her expectantly.
“...” The Invincible didn’t look nearly as tough blushing like that. “Wait, you actually wanna-”
He groaned. “Yes! Yes. That’s one-hundred percent how I thought this was going.”
"Son of a bitch. Alright, come on." The Acahuallan managed to get to her feet without unentangling herself from the Doctor. "I'm not risking your back on this stupid couch."
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fortunei · 1 year
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Beacon
Fandom: Arknights
Pairing: Specter/Irene
Word count: 782
Summary: Again, Specter saw a glimpse of black walking to the Eye of Iberia.
Read more below or click here to read on ao3
Again, Specter saw a glimpse of black walking to the Eye of Iberia.
With the arrival of the Penal Battalion, the Eye of Iberia was closed off to outsiders, and they started to work on restoring whatever left of once glorious Eye with technology borrowed from Aegir (oh, Specter remembered someone else scoffed about it being Iberian tech). Then again, the said woman clad in black, was nowhere a bystander herself. The good little bird, of course, didn’t want to disturb fellow Iberian from their work, so she would visit the stranded lighthouse at night. 
Her trusted lantern on hand, she plowed the coastline on her lonesome, stopping just before the shore and stayed rooted at one particular spot.
Specter found her easy to look out for, as the young woman was straight-laced and rather gullible. But at the same time, attractive and ingenious.
The Aegir then followed the Inquisitor, threading the narrow steps she took, and never let her crimson eyes away from the little bird’s back. Specter couldn’t help but to wonder how someone’s back could be small and unreachable at one point, while they were not so far away in distance.
The night was quiet, save from the voices Specter could hear from the wind, and the calm waves ashore. It was a nice feeling, rather romantic, and simply right.
“Laurentina? Is that you?”
Specter flinched as she was called with such warmth, such familiarity that she didn’t know she needed for the night, all the while she wanted to make sure the little bird was okay.
Irene hung her lantern as she turned, likely hearing Specter’s steps against the wet sand.
Irene was no longer as guarded as when they first met. Being an Inquisitor who had teachings of falsity ingrained to herself, she had her qualms about partnering with Abyssal Hunters. That being said, Specter was glad that they somehow found a common ground after the fiasco in Gran Faro - and likely also the death of her mentor changed her imperceptibly.
“Hmm, so you found me faster this time, little bird.”
Irene chuckled. “You’re the only one who’ll follow me at the dead of night.”
“Well, to rectify myself, I found you first when you walked here in broad daylight,” Specter said.
“Fair enough,” Irene shrugged. “So? What do you want tonight?”
Specter hummed, tapping her chin in wonder. Sudden thought crossed her mind as she studied Irene’s figure, standing tall and unbothered in the face of the cold ocean breeze.
“If I answer that I want you, will you give yourself to me?” she teased, sharp teeth bared as she shot Irene a pointed smirk.
Irene quickly flustered, her lantern rattled on her hold as she tried to gain her bearings. “W-What are you talking about!?”
“I’m kidding,” Specter laughed heartily. It is still too soon anyway. “I just saw you walking toward the Eye, and I’m just making sure that the little bird returns later to her nest unharmed.”
“You-” Irene raised a finger, but she eventually sighed. Specter blinked at the recoil. Did she just spot a tinge of disappointment in her gesture? How curious. “Forget it. Err. Thank you for the sentiment, though.”
Once again, the little bird set her sight on a particular spot. The mountain of Seaborn corpse that once littered the ground has long been cleared, and the High Inquisitor’s body was moved away. A proper burial of such a hero still needed to wait as they needed to tie up the loose end. 
It took no genius to understand that the young fellow was reminiscing, to etch the memory of how her mentor had departed and left his legacy, and how she would carry on with her own judgment as the days gone by shall pass.
Ah, this would make a good elegy. Would the little bird care for a song?
Specter approached the unmoving Inquisitor at last, tapping lightly on the little bird’s shoulder then to her back in a soothing notion.
This time, Irene leaned to the touch, and tense dripping away from her shoulders as she managed to let a long exhale.
“Are you this good at trying to comfort somebody?” Irene asked, her eyes trained to the forgotten sea.
“Not really,” Specter said, thinking how she was most of the time a clownery of a nun and a tepid hunter instead of ‘Laurentina’. “But can I sing for you this time?”
Irene blinked at her. There was a sign that it might rain .
“Sure, I want to hear you singing.”
“Gladly, then.”
There, Laurentina of Aegir sang - for the old glory, for the deceased, for the heroic, and for Irene of Iberia in her arms.
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catgirlcrisis · 11 months
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Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: 明日方舟 | Arknights (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ebenholz & Hibiscus (Arknights), Czerny & Ebenholz (Arknights) Characters: Ebenholz (Arknights), Czerny (Arknights), Hibiscus (Arknights), Eyjafjalla (Arknights), Mountain (Arknights), Mostima (Arknights) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Slice of Life, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Minor Injuries, Developing Friendships, Personal Growth, Sequel, sequel fic, idk how to tag. that, will update tags as I go, the one where Ebenholz Fucks Around, and then has to Find Out Series: Part 2 of everything ends but i still got 60 percent left Summary:
After the incident at Vyseheim, Ebenholz is left to pick up the pieces of his life and try to make sense of... well, everything. One miserable migraine and a half later, he finds it in himself to make an effort to settle into a new rhythm with Rhodes Island.
[Set post-LE and my previous fic, 1982.]
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Untethered
2. The Scent of Smoke on the Breeze
 Three and a half years before present day
Sora flopped onto the futon in her apartment, letting out a long, exasperated breath. Another concert opener, another meet and greet afterward with her small but loyal fanbase… and another night alone in this tiny apartment. Sure, she had a roof over her head and food in the fridge, she had a record label, she had a CD on the market and another in the works, she could get gigs… but everything seemed stalled out. She could still only afford this tiny place, she still had never put on a solo show… she was pretty sure she had met every one of her fans in the city she lived in multiple times. And it wasn't for lack of trying - she was working her illusory tail off! But she still came back exhausted to this tiny place. She still couldn’t squeeze real medical transition into the budget either… she just had to rely on her illusions and her voice. But she could still see the real shape of her body, her real face…
"I'm living as myself…" she murmured to the ceiling. "I'm officially an idol… Is this really it? Is this all I can muster? But…" She rolled over and buried her head in her pillow. "Even with my illusions, doesn't becoming more famous put me at a higher risk for someone from Laterano recognizing me? My agency can't protect me from that… Aughhh!” She rolled onto her back again, staring at the ceiling with a knot in her throat. “What am I supposed to do…?”
As if in answer, there was a knock at her door. She raised an eyebrow; it was almost one in the morning after the concert finally wrapped up. Who would be knocking now…? She got out of bed and crept over to the door, wary in case it was someone sketchy, and looked through the peephole… but there was no one there.
Someone pulling a prank? she thought. She cracked the door open and didn't immediately see anyone… until her gaze drifted downward.
“‘Sup,” the sunglass-wearing penguin at her doorstep greeted.
Even in Sora’s tired state, she didn’t need much time to recognize who was standing before her. “You’re… Emperor? The music producer?”
“I know,” he replied. “Mind if I come in?”
“O-oh, sure!” She stepped aside. “Sorry there’s not much space to sit…” Emperor shrugged and sat across from the futon. She blinked, wondering if she had actually just fallen asleep and was drifting into dreams right now. “S-so… What brings you here? Er, I-I don’t mean to sound rude or anything!”
“Easy, kid,” he said as she took a seat across from him. “I’m doin’ some scouting, y’see. Traveling around, hitting up concerts, trying to get the drop on new talent before anybody else does. Even just among MSR, competition’s fuckin’ steep. Things’ve been getting stale just focusing on my own music and the peeps that cross my desk on their own.”
“You’re kidding…” Sora breathed, her heart racing. “You’re saying you were at the concert tonight?”
“Sure was,” he said with a nod. “Now, realest possible talk: I don’t know shit when it comes to the idol scene. Is your music good, is it derivative? Fucked if I know. But what I do know is the other acts from tonight are already spoken for, I thought your set was pretty tight, and I know some other producers who actually know what they’re talking about. And I wouldn’t mind having one a’ them owe me a favor for bringing them a juicy new piece of talent.”
He offered her a flipper and continued: “I ain’t gonna make a promise that ain’t mine to keep, but I can offer this much: ride over to Lungmen with me, and I’ll make some introductions. From there, it’s up to you, but I’ll comp you a room in the meantime. Gotta be worth taking a chance to break from all this, right?”
Even though Sora wasn’t the one speaking, she still felt like she needed to catch her breath. This was almost a dream scenario, and Emperor had just… waltzed in and presented it like it was nothing. “Mister Emperor-”
“Please, just Emperor is fine. Or Big E, I’ve been called that before.”
“Eheh… Okay, Emperor. Are… are you really sure? You’re willing to take a chance on me?”
“You don’t get anywhere in life not taking chances. I don’t look for peeps who are already perfect - I look for potential. You got that in spades. So yeah, I’m sure.”
Sora’s face grew into a smile, and she almost worried her halo was glowing bright enough to be seen under her Lupo facade. She took his flipper in her hand.
***
The rest, one might say, was history. Her Yanese was a little rusty, but Sora met with one of Emperor’s fellow producers, gave her an impromptu performance, and seemed to catch her attention. This one had an odd methodology; since Sora already had a foothold in the industry, even if it wasn’t an especially stable one, she had her put on a few guerrilla performances in various points in Lungmen, low tech and not widely advertised, just to gauge her ability to sing, dance and command an audience on her own. And while Sora was nervous about performing this way… her producer seemed quite happy with the results. She was able to draw in interested onlookers each time, and a handful of them even recognized Sora’s music.
So after a few of those, the producer bought Sora’s contract from her old agency, shredded it, and signed her on for a brand new one with Monster Siren Records.
Sora exited the MSR headquarters with a skip in her step. It was hard to believe, but she was finally starting to make it. Broken out of the little leagues and into the real arena. And the first thing her agent had done after starting arrangements for her first album to be re-released was to schedule a true debut concert. Not having her just be the opening act for the person people really wanted to see - no, a concert just for her. But this was only the door finally opening; she had to keep pushing herself if she was going to walk through it and keep going.
But as she made her way back towards her apartment… something seemed off. A strange tingle on the back of her neck, as though she was being watched. She chanced a look behind her, but the streets were fairly busy; if someone was following her specifically for some reason, she couldn’t pick them out of the crowd. But the path ahead to get back home was less populated… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to linger in the crowd a little, grab a drink perhaps? Hopefully, if she really was being tailed, she could lose her follower in the crowd. And if she was just being paranoid, well… better safe than sorry.
She got an iced tea from a street stall and made herself as inconspicuous as she could, taking a moment to scan over the crowd. She didn’t see anyone who looked shady exactly, couldn’t see anyone looking right at her… but it was hard to pick anybody out of the crowd.
Finishing off her drink, she sighed to herself and stood. Nothing for it. She wasn’t far from home now, she would make it back just fine. She adjusted her jacket, pulled up the collar, and set off again.
“It is you, isn’t it?” a voice asked from behind her. Sora winced - so much for sneaking away. She considered quickening her pace, but her follower hurriedly caught up and got ahead of her, cutting her off. Cutting off her escape.
“Sora, right? I almost didn’t think it was you at first - I saw you when you were crossing the street a little way back - and I had to be sure… I saw you at a couple of your street concerts, do you remember? I shook your hand last time!”
This guy sure liked the sound of his own voice. “Maybe, I’ve shaken a lot of hands these past few days…”
“Ah, I just knew from the first time I heard you, there was something there…” He wasn’t really listening to her at all, was she? Just talking at her. “And now we bump into each other in the street, in a city this big? It’s fate!”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘bumping into each other,’” Sora murmured. She took a step back, but he matched step with her. He wasn’t right in her face, but if she had to run, would she be able to get enough distance…?
“Eh, minor detail! The point is, we’re together now, right where we were meant to be… You’re new to Lungmen anyway, right? You’d need a guide, a bodyguard maybe… I can picture it now~”
Sora took another nervous step back, but someone else stepped up from behind her, positioning their tall, strong frame between her and the stalker. Dark hair trailed a few inches past their shoulders, intercut with a little bit of red, and a fluffy Lupo tail hung still and controlled behind them. A still-sheathed katana rested in one hand, a second still at their belt.
“You’re done,” the figure said. Sora’s eyes widened a little bit more in interest. Her voice… Was she trans, too?
“The hell are you?” the guy asked, hand hovering worryingly near his pocket. “You trying to lure her somewhere?!”
“Look, I don’t want to make a mess here,” she calmly replied. “‘Specially not in front of her. Just get lost.”
“Sora, I don’t like the look of this guy-”
“She’s a girl, jerk!” Sora shot back. The Lupo’s tail flipped up in response to that, but she didn’t show any other reaction.
“Whatever! She’s dangerous!” The stalker pulled a knife. “Go on, draw that sword! I can take you! Watch, Sora, I’m up to the job of protecting you!”
“I don’t need to draw steel to deal with trash like you,” she dryly taunted, followed by what sounded like a Siracusan insult.
“All right, asshole!” He gripped his knife and rushed forward, but the Lupo didn’t flinch. As he drew closer, she gripped her sheathed sword and jabbed her attacker in the stomach, doubling him over immediately. She closed the distance, following up with an elbow to the ribs, and bringing up the butt of her sword to smash him in the chin. And if that weren’t enough, a tingle of electricity rippled through the air as she unleashed some sort of arts. Utterly stunned, the attacker flopped backwards onto the ground.
The Lupo straightened, and the utterly defeated stalker rose to his hands and knees shakily before scrambling away in fear. She gave him one last crack on the back with her sword as she went, just for good measure. Her hand moved to her pocket and pulled out a cigarette, but she seemed to think twice about lighting it up here, and she put it back. She turned very slightly back toward Sora but almost seemed… reluctant to look right at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Sora offered her a smile. “I am now. Thank you… Can I ask your name?”
“Oh, it’s…”
“Oh there you are, Texas!” another voice greeted. Sora turned and tried not to flinch as a red-haired Sankta strolled past with a smile, but seemingly no recognition. “You ran off on me!”
“Sorry,” the Lupo replied. She turned to Sora. She was beautiful… “Y-yeah, it’s Texas. And this is Exusiai, they’re a friend and coworker of mine.”
They? Sora noted. Another Sankta who wasn’t cis…? Just who were these two?
“Hey…” Exusiai started, looking at Sora with a curious flicker of the halo, “isn’t this…?”
“I wasn’t going to bring that up…” Texas grumbled. “I just got done chasing off an obsessive fan, she doesn’t need me fangirling over her next…”
Sora giggled and took a step closer. “Don’t worry, you’re not like him. I can tell… So you’re a fan, too?”
Her tail flipped back and forth a little. “Yeah, I am. I almost didn’t believe it was really you at first when I saw you from a distance… I’m just glad I was able to get over here in time.”
“Me too…” Sora replied with a warm smile. This girl, Texas… she could just roll up like that, bring down that stalker like it was nothing, and the idea of boasting about it or even making the slightest move that could come off as overbearing seemed to be the furthest thing from her mind. She just saved a life and seemed to have no desire for any kind of repayment, or even praise. And she really was so pretty… Sora could feel her heart racing.
“Oh! So, um, if you’re a fan, how about an exclusive bit of early info?” Texas’s ear twitched in interest. “I actually just switched talent agencies recently, been doing a few low-key shows to get my foot in the door here in Lungmen…”
“I heard rumors about that,” Texas said. “So it was true… Damn, can’t believe I missed those.”
“Oh, they’re nothing compared to what comes next! I’m actually doing a re-debut concert next month!”
Texas’s eyebrows raised. “Really?” She turned to Exusiai. “You think the boss would forward me the money for that? I mean, I’m still paying him off for… everything.”
“Oh, that won’t do!” Sora said. She reached into her bag for a little something her producer had given her earlier that evening. Finding what she was looking for, she handed them to Texas with a grin. Texas’s tail thrashed behind her as she realized what she was looking at.
“Front row seats?” She looked at Sora in disbelief. “Are you serious…?”
“Least I could do!” Sora was beaming, hopefully only metaphorically. “My manager gave me those to give to friends, but I don’t really know many other people in Lungmen yet… Can’t think of anyone who deserves them more!”
Texas turned to Exusiai hopefully. “You’re in, right?”
“Of course!” they replied with a cheery grin. “I’ll admit, miss Sora, I hadn’t listened to your music before I met Tex here, but I’m not gonna say no to a live show! She talks all the time about listening to your music on the way here.”
“Exu…” Texas murmured.
“Oh? Did you come here from far away?” Sora didn’t exactly want to end the conversation just yet… and it seemed like Texas didn’t really want that, either.
“A bit,” she admitted. “Siracusa. I… left home in a hurry, let’s leave it at that. Didn’t get to bring much, but I had some of your music on my phone. Not sure I would have made it all the way to Lungmen without that…”
“And she barely made it here as it stands,” Exusiai chimed in.
“Really…?” Sora asked, feeling her heart speed up even more. “It was the same for me…”
“Right!” Texas replied, showing a bit of excitement now. “Where The Road Ends, right?”
“That’s right! A song about following a voice away from a home that doesn’t feel like home anymore… I had to leave in a hurry, too. And I was given the courage to do it by an idol I like, too!” God, she was blushing so much. These two… Texas especially, she could barely take her eyes off of the tall, strong Lupo. Quickly re-gathering herself, she decided to push it just a little bit further: “Well keep an ear out; when I perform that song at the concert… this time, it’s for you~”
Texas’s tail thrashed again, her eyes wide. “I’ll be ready!” Was this flirting? Was it even a good idea to try and flirt? Idols weren’t supposed to do that… yet Sora couldn’t think of much else.
“Hate to break this up,” Exusiai said, a hand on their hip, “but I know me and Tex have to report back, and I’m sure you wanna get home too… do you need us to walk you home?”
“O-oh, no, that’s okay!” Sora replied. As nice as it would be… she didn’t really need to push her luck here. The professional part of her brain realized that if she was seen walking around with these two armed strangers, it might cause PR problems. Plus, would that come off as desperate…? “My place is just around the corner, I’ll be okay.”
“Mm,” Texas murmured. Sora could tell she was worried, but she didn’t try to argue. “Just… stay safe, okay? Call Penguin Logistics if you need anything, one of us will come running.”
“Okay!” Penguin Logistics… Wasn’t that one of Emperor’s side businesses? She tucked that information away for later as she and Texas regretfully parted ways, and she headed back on the path home.
Only when she walked away did her heart finally begin to calm, but the warmth was still there. Who was that girl, really…? And idly, she wondered if she should cook up another illusion appearance for walking around town, to avoid being recognized. She wasn’t that well known yet, but if things went well, she would only get more famous, and encounters like that would be more of a risk… Cautus, perhaps?
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hopefulrefrain · 7 months
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Fandom: Arknights Relationships: Skadi/Specter, Specter/Amaia or Specter/the Endspeaker if you squint Characters: Specter, Skadi, Amaia Warnings: Extreme violence, gore, eroguro, vore, strangulation Dreamwidth Mirror: here Description: Specter dreams of that creature that says it isn't Amaia.
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mokadevs · 5 months
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you've given me nothing to miss
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burstfoot · 5 months
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Your name is Kristen Wright. You’re barely 10. You’re at the outdoor funeral for your parents, a pair of genius scientists that Terra will never see again. You’ve spent the last two weeks giving false smiles to women and men who pretend to grieve them while spending every moment they think you’re not looking lauding them for their ‘foolishness’ and ‘hubris’. Sitting amongst a crowd of these intellectuals, your feel nothing looking at their crocodile tears, knowing they’re just happy there’s less competition for next year’s grants. Your new guardian grabs onto your hand in an attempt to grant you a modicum of comfort. You stare blankly at the sky above.
You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.
Your name is Joyce Moore. You can hardly communicate anymore. Your best friend killed herself trying to replicate the experiment that gave you permanent brain damage. Every scientist at Rhine Lab now treats you like a child at best, and an animal at worst. Your parents have not come to see you. None of your colleagues seem to understand that you are still you, with a sense of humour, good taste in TV shows, and fucking feelings, god damn it.
You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.
Your name is Ferdinand Clooney. You’ve lost everything you’ve ever worked for in a futile grab for power. The department of defense has you by the dick after saving you from a group of Pioneers who (justifiably) nearly beat you half to death. It’s playing fiddle to their whims or the rest of your life in prison - or, most realistically, a tragic accident report. Your aspirations aren’t within your reach anymore, and you know that it’s your fault. You will never be Kristen Wright, and it’s eating you alive.
You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.
Your name is Parvis Ahrens. You’re not that old. You’re only 58. But you’re losing your mind. Every day, a little more slips away. You rely more and more on encyclopedic entries for information you took immense pride in knowing from your heart. You’ve spent the last few years focused on the pursuit of progress of all else. As part of this, you manipulated your star pupil in an attempt to permanently get her under your wing, outside of the influence of the Defense Director, a weak-hearted woman everyone else seems to think is cold as ice. She has years of life to change Columbian science. You don’t.
You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.
Your name is Jara B. Wilson. You feel like you don’t see the girl who lived for you with so long in Kristen anymore. You’re a washed-up movie star, working for her cause above all else. Do you have anything that you’re working for for yourself anymore? She’ll be gone soon. You know that.
She hasn’t even left yet, and you’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away once she leaves.
Your name is Nasti Londrey. Your people have never had a home. They might never have a home.
You’ve always felt alone. You will always be alone. That’s fine.
Your name is Justin Fitzroy Jr. Your dad died a week ago, and the cure has just been found for the hereditary illness that threatens to cut your lifespan in half. It was found by accident.
The sword of Damacles no longer hangs above your neck. Why then, do you still feel so alone?
Your name is Loken Williams. You reach out to a girl you tortured, who you know can’t remember what you did to her, because you’re going to die soon, and you need someone to remember what you did with your life.
Even if she kills you, at least you won’t die alone.
Your name is Trevor Friston. It’s been thousands of years down here. You just want to see your daughter again, and it will be another thousand until you do.
You’re very familiar with the loneliness that wraps around every single nanometer of your circuit board.
Your name is Dorothy Franks. Your whole family was killed in a Catastrophe. Your name is Elena Urbica. Your whole family, besides your twin sister, has disowned you. Your drive yourself head-first into the sciences to distract yourself from the loneliness.
Your name is Ho’olheyak. Centuries of ancestral memories swarm around your mind. Because of this, your lifespan was cut to a fraction of the life you should be living. You are obsessed with the history of your people, and you resent them from tearing your life away from you. You tear over books and tomes of history to find all means of unspeakable knowledge, hoping that somewhere in there you’ll find something that you can connect to.
You don’t even know you’re lonely.
Your name is Muelsyse.
You saw the writing on the wall. Saria and Kristen just had a massive fight. You’ve been drifting apart since college, but the only two people who you’ve felt a real connection to on all of Terra will hardly speak to each other anymore. Do you try and mend what happened between them? Can you? You don’t know what to do besides take all means to protect yourself in the fallout. You wish you weren’t so paranoid, so self-centered, that all you know how to do is ensure your own safety.
Is there anything on Terra for you besides loneliness?
Your name is Ifrit. It’s cold, and quiet, and you’re pretty sure you’ve killed everyone around you. Your eyes are blurred, you hands are shaky, and shards of black crystal stick out all over your body. Before you pass out, you think one thing:
Hell, you might be alone, but at least those bastard whitecoats got what was coming to them.
Your name is Olivia Silence. You pull yourself out of the rubble in a destroyed laboratory, where you see Saria looming over Ifrit, beaten half-to-death. You beat yourself up for thinking you could trust her - that she was there to protect Ifrit, and you. You can’t trust anyone in Columbia. You run to embrace Ifrit with your entire body, to protect her from the cold eyes of Saria standing above her. You look back at her with nothing but fear in your eyes.
You’ve never felt so alone. You have to get Ifrit out of Rhine.
Your name is Saria. You’re barely 8 years old. You went your father in tears, as a group of bullies came after you and destroyed your toy car. He tells you to stop crying. You’re not accomplishing anything by throwing a fit in front of him. He tells you to fight back - take responsibility for your weakness.
You’ve never felt so alone.
You won’t ever be this weak again.
Staring up at the sky, looking up as Kristen’s ark sends her out through the hole she tore in the false sky, you know that you were foolish to believe you could bypass your own weakness through sheer will.
And you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life without her.
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arkiwii · 5 months
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here's your order of burritowls
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in-som-niyah · 19 days
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Hi, could we please get Jason meeting his girlfriend at a restaurant to meet her dad and it’s the riddler? Thank you
the trauma this would inflict is CRAZYYYYY ANON LMAOOOOOO
i mean tbh i think it would go down well in the first half yk Jason’s all excited to meet her and then he sees the riddler and immediately gets violent. like IMMEDIATELY and when reader points out it’s her dad….well…..
let’s just say Jason ✨disappears✨ and basically ghosts reader
i’m so sorry i don’t see this being a happy ending at all😭😭😭
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versegm · 11 months
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Oh you think your life is hard? Try being a fan of a self-insert protagonist.
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johannstutt413 · 1 year
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(requested by anonymous) Exu finds Tachanka at the shooting range
“Alright, I’m heading out!” Exusiai announced as she left Penguin Logistics’ borrowed dorm. “Don’t go to lunch without me like last time!”
“Don’t be late, then,” Bison shrugged from his bowl of cereal.
The Sankta stayed just long enough to stick her tongue out at him before closing the door behind her. It was nice that the firing range was a short walk from where she was staying, especially since Rhodes Island had been very clear about where she could and could not blast things to smithereens. Apparently the landship had a lot more concerns about “structural integrity” than back home.
This morning, somewhat unexpectedly, she wasn’t the only one at the range… Actually, who was that? They looked more like a knight than someone who’d have a crossb- That wasn’t a crossbow. “Safety off.” A guy, then, with some real gravel to his voice. And his accent - an Ursus with a gun?
“That’s a real beauty you’ve got there,” she called out as she made her way to the firing position next to him. Clearly not some recruit who’d picked it up somewhere - his trigger discipline was instinct, as demonstrated when he clicked the safety back before turning to face the newcomer. “How long’ve you had her?”
“Safe. A few months. You are one of the Sankta I’ve heard so much about?” The halo and wings said as much.
Exusiai cocked her head. “Never seen one of us before? How’d you get a gun just hearing about us?”
“Back home, they’re much more common.” He set his machinegun aside and offered a hand to shake. “Tachanka, Team Rainbow.”
“Exusiai, Penguin Logistics. More common, huh? So you brought it from home?”
The former soldier nodded. “Da. The engineers made some modifications, but she’s as smooth as ever.”
“How about a little friendly competition, then?” The Sankta pointed down range. “Whoever shreds that puppy slower owes me a slice of apple pie!”
“And if I win?” Tachanka was audibly smiling.
The Sniper laughed. “Oh, you’re a funny guy, Tachanka! C’mon, there’s no way you’ve got me beat!”
“Alright, but if I do,” he continued nonetheless, “you can buy me a drink.”
“Hey, if I had the cash, I’d do that anyway. Kinda tight until payday, though, you know how it is.” She was used to it, though.
Oh, he definitely knew that life. “Water is fine.”
“Eh? Alright, I can do water. Still,” Exusiai smirked as she readied her rifle, “you’re not winning this bet, buddy.”
“We’ll see about that, malysh. Safety off! Firing!” “Rock n’ roll!”
BRRRRRRRR. It was mere moments before every target they could feasibly hit from their positions had been reduced to shreds. The Sankta’s eyes gleamed as she turned back to her competitor. “Wow! Guess I should’ve made it a marksmanship challenge instead, huh? You totally smoked that whole line!”
“Don’t sell yourself too short, malysh. You’re not so bad yourself.” Tachanka flipped the safety back down. “Safe. Apple pie, you said?”
“For real? There’s no way I won that, not when you’re packing that kinda heat.” She didn’t know a single Sankta with a weapon that fired so quickly.
The Sapiens shrugged. “An old comrade swore by it also. You can buy my vodka later.”
“Wait, vodka? We’ve got some of that at the dorm, actually…” Exusiai snapped her fingers. “Got it! Buy me some pie, and for dessert, party at my place tonight! I’m sure the girls won’t mind.”
“‘Girls?’ Hmm. Koetz, you owe me - mind if I bring a friend?” Not that Blitz needed any help meeting the lovely ladies of Rhodes Island.
She cheered. “Yeah! The more the merrier! You said you’ve got a Team, right? Bring ‘em all!”
“Cohen? At a party?” Actually… “I like the way you think, malysh. Let’s get that apple pie, hmm?”
“Woohoo!”
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fortunei · 1 year
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Aflicker
Fandom: Arknights
Pairing: Specter/Irene
Word count: 911
Summary: Perhaps, all she needed was an empty reassurance.
Read more below or click here to read on ao3
That night, Rhodes Island was unusually quiet. Irene had just finished helping the kitchen on her day off, when she settled to walk around the building with her lantern. Patrolling might be beyond her task, and she might be best just sticking around the training room instead of loafing, but she wanted fresh air.
Rhodes Island at present was going around Victoria, awaiting the improvement of the latest succession crisis. Seeing a lot of Feline at one place was something new to Irene, who had spent most of her time with Inquisitor work and mostly conversing with fellow Liberi Iberian or Aegirs.
“... I thought I saw a familiar lantern light.” 
A voice came from the dark, then took shape as a pair of strong arms quickly circled around her waist. Irene yelped, her left hand ready to pick her hand cannon from its holster, but then a reprimanding hand stopped her, then a sharp smile that belonged to a certain individual.
“Laurentina! You scared the wits out of me!”
“Good evening to you, my cute little bird.” Specter chuckled, unaffected by Irene’s outburst. She settled her chin on the crook of Irene’s shoulder, snuggling affectionately. “Are you getting peckish and searching for food at this ghoulish time?”
“W-What do you think I am? I don’t-” Irene sighed, reining her tone to calm. “I just need some fresh air.”
“Mm, perfect,” Specter said, clapping to herself. She looked up and down on Irene, before grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the direction where Irene walked from. “Come follow me to the kitchen, I’m famished after the last mission.”
“Do you even hear what I said?”
“I do,” Specter hummed. “After that, I’ll accompany you to get as much fresh air as you wish!”
“Wait, Laurentina, stop!”
But of course, the whimsical Aegir would never listen … at least not at a glance.
True to her words, Specter dragged Irene to the kitchen, grabbing something at random from the vending machine available, then they made their way outside.
Victoria’s wind was not as harsh as Iberia’s, likely because they were not close to the body of water at the moment. Irene also didn’t need the lantern, either. Rhodes Island’s deck was bright enough and the moon hung lazily on the sky to light the road enough. Then again, the lantern has always been the part of herself - an extension to her body, just like her trusted rapier. Irene couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her lantern to gather dust in her temporary room. 
Though, if they were closer to the sea or Iberia land, Irene would likely be restless. She would strain her ears to listen to the wind, or she would observe the change in tides every so often. That night, it was quiet; a kind of quietness that Irene didn’t mind.
And there was Laurentina beside her, eating a sandwich while her eyes cast far to the starry sky over their heads. Irene was no longer alone.
“Are you missing Iberia?”
Irene blinked upon the sudden question, she leaned her back better to the nearest wall, as though finding an anchor. Specter joined beside her, the Inquisition lantern filled the space between them.
“I don’t think so,” Irene finally answered, as Specter finished her light supper. “After all, I was dispatched to Iberia often to check the sea, and the Inquisition-”
Specter watched her with a knowing look, a smile on her lips unchanged. They both knew that was not the answer to Specter’s question, nor was Irene satisfied with the answer.
“... Maybe,” Irene closed her eyes, imagining the time that she could still see her mentor’s back, then to the barren wasteland that became his resting place. “Maybe I’m just wondering the what-ifs.”
Specter hummed, melodious. “Do tell.”
It was already far, far in her memory now when she was separated from her mentor to board the last voyage of Ship of Fools. She was no longer an orphan without a place to go. She was no longer an Inquisitor with a one-track mind.
“Meeting you has changed me,” Irene started. “I wonder if I would still be in Gran Faro, trying to restore the lighthouse and cursing Aegirs to death for sinking the Stultifera.”
“Or perhaps you’ll be hot in our tail, hunting the Abyssal Hunters,” Specter quipped, harmless. 
Irene nodded at that, a slight blush crept her cheeks - she could be blindsided, a naive who wouldn’t be able to honor her mentor’s passing.
But then, Specter’s hand found hers, lacing on her smaller fingers in care.
“You shouldn’t sell yourself short. I know you’re stronger than that, my resilient, strong little bird.”
“I do?”
Specter now faced her, the clarity in her gaze made Irene feel warm all over. Her red eyes danced beyond the minimal light, mirroring her bemused expression. Specter—Laurentina—seemed to have a lot of things to say, but Irene was lost in her eyes alone. Unconsciously, she let her fingers ran, away from Specter’s hand to touch the taller woman’s face. Specter returned the gesture, her skin cold against Irene’s heated cheeks, and it slowly mellowed into the warmth.
“Little bird,” Specter’s breath was close. “May I give you more than empty reassurance?”
“I don’t mind if it’s empty,” Irene replied promptly. “I need-”
Laurentina no longer allowed her to talk after, for their lips joined under the merciful moonlight, watched by the flickering lantern, until the night fully embraced them both.
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