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#gold star for everyone who gets the reference
puzzled-pegasus · 2 months
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Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use
SkyWings
“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)
“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)
“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)
“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)
“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)
“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)
“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)
“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)
“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)
SandWings
“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)
“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)
“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)
“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)
MudWings
“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)
“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)
“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)
SeaWings
“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)
“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)
“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)
“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)
“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)
NightWings
“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)
“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)
“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)
“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)
"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)
RainWings
“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)
“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)
“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)
“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)
“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)
“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)
“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)
IceWings
“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)
“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)
“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)
“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)
“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight
“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)
HiveWings
“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)
“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)
“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)
SilkWings
“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)
“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)
“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)
LeafWings
“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)
“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)
“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)
“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)
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doobea · 5 months
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♡‧₊˚ i got my eyes on you ೄྀ࿐ˊˎ ─ MILESTONE MASTERLIST
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HI EVERYONE!! I hope everyone is excited to this milestone event hehe! It ended up being 10 reqs in total and I just wanna send everyone a HUGE thank you again for sticking with me throughout the months on this crazy site hehe. I tried to keep most of the tropes relevant to the original requests but I added my own ideas/flare to some of them!! any of the ✰'s you see are added hehe
For those who are out of the loop, please refer to this OG post about the event! Anyways, I hope you guys look forward to this!! I've been dying to write some new ideas hehe
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COMING SOON:
OF THREADS AND RIBBONS ─ MEGUMI F.
synopsis: you can see the red strings of fate holding people together, but no one is allowed to know that. that fact didn't stop you from using your knowledge to nudge soulmates together. of course, this led to you getting a reputation as the class matchmaker, which isn't an issue until your soulmate, Megumi Fushiguro, asks you to set him up with someone else.
tropes: soulmate AU, college AU
ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.
synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.
tropes: second chances, office romance
NOT LIKE GOLD IN YOUR DREAMS ─ SUKUNA R.
synopsis: your tycoon family has done you the favor of finding the 'perfect' bachelor, aiming to strengthen their connections and net worth. and who is your future husband? cold, brash, and down right dangerous. he is the definition of devastation poured and disguised in a suit.
tropes: arranged marriage, slow burn, billionaire!sukuna ✰
BUT YOU'RE A MASTERPIECE ─ SATORU G.
synopsis: when your friends urge you to take up a new hobby, you decide on figure drawing. you convince yourself that it'll be a good way to make friends, to let your hands and mind run loose for three hours, and maybe you'll find the passion for art again. what you didn't expect is to fall in love with your nude model.
tropes: slow burn, model/artist AU ✰
NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS ─ SATORU G.
synopsis: the last thing you'd expect after moving to raccoon city is a zombie outbreak. but good thing you have a hot police officer to look after you, right?
tropes: zombie AU, christmas AU, police officer!gojo ✰, resident evil AU ✰
YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.
synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.
tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat
SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.
synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.
tropes: best friend's brother, forced proximity, tutor!reader ✰
FROM NEW YORK, WITH LOVE ─ RIN I.
synopsis: new york city is always depicted as the place to be, known for its big hopes and even bigger dreams. but when you and rin reunite, after being apart for two years, you're both surrounded by broken promises and empty wishes. maybe coming here was a mistake after all. because exs can't just be friends, right?
tropes: second chance, hurt/comfort, college AU
NEW GAME PLUS ─ RIN I.
synopsis: ranked number three on the top streaming platform, twitch, rin hides his secret identity pretty well for a college student. during the day, he's studying non-stop and, when night comes, he's getting headshots left and right while yelling into comms. he absolutely hates losing, which is why you're on his shit list - AKA the second top streamer and the second best sniper in all of asia. so what does rin do when he finds out that you're suddenly his new project partner?
tropes: esport AU, rivals to lovers, college AU, overwatch ✰ (i picked this game bc i know a lot of it lol i hope you don't mind)
ICE, ICE, BABY ─ YOICHI I.
synopsis: you don't do spontaneous and you hate it when things don't align with your routine. so when the school's hockey team messes up their rink and has to settle with the figure skating one, you'll do everything in your power to make sure you'll reach the nationals - even if it means distracting the hockey team's star player.
tropes: hockey player!isagi, figure skater!reader ✰, enemies to lovers
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© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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akystaracer22 · 2 months
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Distrust Fall:
A leap of faith gone wrong, an eternal promise kept eternally. No matter how long it has been some things never truly change.
Notes
How to fail a trust fall: Step one
Vaggie's relationship with Adam is very complicated, but at the moment there is a lot of animosity and it shows.
Adam is of the opinion that Sorry doesn’t mean jack shit if you make the mistake again, so he just doesn’t apologise because he thinks he’ll just fuck up again so there’s no point.
The hotel needs a licensed therapist at this point dear lord.
Alastor still isn’t over the whole “Radio is fucking dead” thing.
If there is one thing that Adam knows off by heart, it’s the names of animals scientific or otherwise. That was the guys job once upon a time and assuming he doesn’t know that stuff is the true quickest way to piss him off. He’s also really good with animals which pisses off Anthony because Fat Nuggets *likes* Adam and it drives the sinner up a wall.
Alastor and Lucifer are on the ground. Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, and Adam are on the roof.
Alastor was going to let him get a cm from the ground before catching him dw.
Lucifer used to be friends with Adam in the garden because I live for that sweet sweet friends to enemies tragedy.
Adam really does not like people staring at his face, it’s a mild form of scopophobia caused by his time in heaven with people always giving him shit for how he looked, particularly his facial features (Yes I drew on everyone calling him ugly and average on twitter and shit). He used the mask to get around it, that way people couldn’t actually see what he looked like.
This was originally 1260 but then I got an idea that blew this out by 500 words lol.
The graveyard with be elaborated on in a future connected one shot.
This is officially a fully fledged AU
Regarding Adam's claws, they're gold to combat the greyness of his palette, but also as a nod to Midas, the arrogant king who's touched turned everything to gold. Angelic blood is also gold so if you want you can interpret it as having blood on his hands.
Fingerless gloves because I thing they're neat.
I based Lucifer's wings off of duck wings!
Also Lucifer's angelic appearance was based on space. I heard Sera call Charlie "Daughter of the Morning Star" and I went feral.
He has a full shifting night sky in his wings, clothes, and hat.
Angels have white pupils now I don't make the rules.
References saved my life.
Word count: 1725
(Comic and fic under the cut! Click for better quality)
@irregular-child
Adam leaned away from the edge as the wind drifted through his wings, keenly aware of the fact that his wings wouldn’t break his fall and he did not in fact trust jack shit in hell to break it except the ground.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?”
“I’m with princess perfect this is a fucking death sentence,” Adam agreed, a little reluctantly because it was still the princess of hell, “You’re trying to fucking kill me.”
Vaggie smirked, because of course she did because she was trying to kill him, he wasn’t that dense, and just shrugged, “I mean, worked for me didn’t it?”
“That wasn’t even a fucking trust fall that was to get you to fucking fly and you know it! Fucking bitch,” The first man scowled and tried to step away from the edge, the crack whore of an arachnid immediately shoving him back up, “Would you fuck off?!”
“Would you stop being a dick?”
“Would you stop sucking them?”
The white jumping spider stared at him for a long moment and Vaggie stepped away from him for once, great! Cool! One person was leaving him alone and soon a second one will!
Great! About fucking time they got the message-
-------]
Lucifer paced nervously around Dazzle’s statue; this was a terrible idea. Having Adam go through a trust fall this early was going to end in disaster one way or another.
The main issue being nobody liked Adam and wouldn’t care if he fell. Hell, Charlies girlfriend has already tried to kill Adam off for good multiple times since he got here!
This was going to be a mess; Alastor was supposed to be catching Adam but he was just standing there looking completely unprepared and-
“Are you going to get ready or not.” Lucifer snapped at the radio demon, wings flicking out behind him in agitation.
“Oh, I have no intention of catching him.”
Lucifer froze, his tail stilling before lashing behind him as he turned on the deer-eared sinner, “What.”
“You heard me.”
“Oh, I heard you alright, and I think you should try that again.”
“And why are you getting so worked up, hm?” The sinner hummed, sneering down at the king, “Last I checked, the first man was your enemy after he tried to kill your own daughter.”
“I-” Lucifer paused, then scowled because Alastor was right. Why was he getting so worked up over this. This was Adam they were talking about. Adam who was crass and rude and cold to everyone. Adam, who would rather sit in his room all day than even look at any of them. Adam who was…
“…Luci, do they all hate me?”
“I can see why they left me for you.”
“It is good to see you again my friend! Come, much has changed since your last visit!”
… Adam who was so much more than who he was now. Who was probably the only person left in hell that remembered Eden.
Damnit.
“That’s none of your business you son of a bitch,” The fallen angel snapped at the cannibal, eliciting nothing more than a growing grin from the bastard.
Not a day went by in hell where Lucifer wished that this wasn’t his circus and that the sinners weren’t his monkeys.
Someone screamed above him.
The seraphim whipped his head up, eyes widening as he registered Adam twisting the air as he was shoved off the roof by Angel Dust.
Fear struck his heart like an exorcists blade when the first man tried to use his wings to glide, only for a single wing beat to send him into a spiral hurtling towards the ground.
He caught Adams eye for a single moment before it was obscured by his good wing, the man was terrified. He didn’t know sinners reformed after death and despite it all. Lucifer would never wish someone to experience falling from their death after quite literally falling from heaven.
Not even on Adam.
Something in his heart spurred the king into action, kicking off the ground as his wings snapped open to catch the air. A single beat of his wings and he was already well off the ground.
Lucifer reached a hand up for Adam as the fallen angel reached out to him in kind, panic written across both their faces at the idea of a horrible accident.
Lucifer’s wings moved the air one more time and-
“And… you will catch me?”
Lucifer laughed softly, a gentle chiming sound from where he stood behind Gods first man. He was trying to show him a game Lucifer and his kin would play from time to time amongst the spires of heaven.
The game was simple, one angel was to stand up high with their wings folded and fall. Then the other angel was to catch them. It was supposed to build trust, not to mention it was a delight in and of itself.
Standing amongst the grasses of Eden, Lucifer saw no reason not to share this game with Adam. He’s already grown fond of the way that Gods creation would go out of his way to show the angel what he’d been up to since his last visit.
“Be not afraid my friend!” Lucifer’s wings spread quietly to punctuate his point, divine magic threading his words, The Voice ensuring that the first man would hear and believe him.
“No matter how far you fall, I shall always be there to catch you.”
Lucifer wrapped his arms securely around the fallen angel as his wings curled around wing and man alike, bracing himself as the added weight as they both fell together.
It’s funny, it reminded him of when Adam first fell, a fiery ball that could have almost been mistaken as a shooting star had Lucifer not known better.
They hid the ground with a slam and the fallen seraphim had to bite back a shriek as his wings took the brunt of the force. They’d be left aching for a while.
Lucifer grunted as he pushed Adam off of him, sitting up and folding his wings in, allowing them to slip out of existence while they healed, he definitely didn’t want to do that again.
He slowly got to his feet while the first man got his bearings, dusting himself off and rubbing his shoulders to try and alleviate the pain.
“Why the fuck did you save me?”
Lucifer jerked and looked down at Adam from where he was glaring up at him, a note of confusion held carefully in his gaze before it dropped.
“I-”
“Well, isn’t this quite a surprise!”
Lucifer’s expression shot into a scowl as he rounded on the radio demon very blatantly interrupting the moment. The bastard just grinned and stared down at the both of them.
From the corner of his eyes Lucifer noted Adam’s good wing hitching up instinctively to cover his face from the demons gaze before dropping.
Lucifer turned his attention back to the radio demon with a glare that could melt steel, “You were going to let him fall,”
“I was going to do no such thing,”
“You just said-!”
“I said nothing you just assumed I was going to do nothing at all!”
“Listen here you!” Lucifer was just off again by the main doors opening and the other’s all barrelling out at the commotion.
Lost in the sudden onslaught of attention and having to field Alastor’s snarky comments, Anthony’s suggestive remarks, and Charlie’s concern, he didn’t see Adam flee the scene.
It wasn’t until much later that he was able to recognize the first man’s absence, searching the hotel to see if Adam was okay.
He found him at the graveyard, sitting among the many tombstones for the exorcists slain in the battle that caused Adam to fall.
Lucifer paused at the entrance to the burial ground, watching Adam sit there facing away from him for what felt like an eternity.
Despite the dead being gone, the king of hell still felt like the exorcists weapons were pointed at him, a warning that if he made one wrong move they would rise from their graves to protect their leader, to avenge him, to strike Lucifer down in an instant.
The once-angel of the morning star carefully stepped away from the cemetery, making sure he didn’t break the silence. Even if Adam wanted to be disturbed, he wasn’t the right person to do it, not in this place.
Besides, he still had his own thoughts to sort through, like why in the name of the divine he saved Adam when he would have survived regardless. He would have been fine even if he did hit the ground unimpeded so why-
Lucifer grimaced as the answer stuck to him like a parasite, he knew damn well why he saved him. It was the same stupid reason he preened Adams wings for him, the same reason he treats the first man’s wing rot and the exact same reason he made that deal with Adam after he fell.
He was attached.
Stupids horribly foolishly, Lucifer still cared for Adam even after everything.
By the stars he beat Adam within an inch of his life! Adam tried to kill his daughter!
But emotions were hardly logical. They weren’t logical when he fell for Lilith in the garden and taught her and Adam both The Voice, they weren’t logical when he freed Eve, and they weren’t logical now.
Lucifer cared for Adam, even if by all logic he should hate the man.
“Dad?”
Lucifer looked up to meet his daughters eyes, a small smile letting her know he was okay, “Hey there Duckie.”
Charlie’s expression softened at the nickname even if he still looked concerned, “Dad… are you sure you’re okay?”
“If I’m not now, I will be, so stop worrying about little old me Char-char,” Lucifer chuckled, “However… Adams in the graveyard if you want to talk to him, he seems like he needs some company right now.”
He made his exit quickly after that, he knew what Charlie would do, it was in her nature to help people, it was what made her so special.
But Lucifer, he helped people once, and now… he had a new person he could help again.
And he might just know where to start.
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idkfitememate · 4 months
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Can I send an idea about otter reader singing and acting with Furina in a performance or even a musical like based on Otter reader. I don't know a musical parody of Cats the musical called Otters the musical.
No because that’s really cute hold on-
I’m not gonna write a full story (can’t come up with shit for this I’m so sorry) but the idea is so cute I at least have to talk about it ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১
Otter!Creator in a little directors chair with the hat and the scarf with a megaphone screaming every time the character that plays them. Like Squidward & Squiliam from that one Ep-
“Who put you on the planet UGH-“
Whenever their character fucks up a note Otter!Creator gets up on stage and hits is perfectly and Furina (who’s the Co-Director because of course she is) is there like “Holy- that’s my darling right there!-“
All the special effects gotta embellish the shit outta this. No good story is a story without a tiny bit of lying!
Yeah them controlling the Primordial Sea is going right in there. No hesitation. The stars in the eyes is getting its own song.
There’s a commercial for The Otter Pack™️.
It’s actually insane how much care you put into the show though. Everyone’s outfits are gorgeous and the makeup is on point. Everyone’s voices ring clear and all of that. You put much care into making sure that everyone was represented correctly and it brings a tear to their eyes. Especially Clorinde’s because you two didn’t and still haven’t hung out at all. She gets her own theme, and a solo piece.
This Opera is long man. People better get ready to not feel their butts after this. There’s gonna be AT LEAST two intermissions-
Hey, why are there Boar, Tiger, Fox, and… Geo Primovishap themed characters?-
…There’s a small part of the play that vaguely references a word beyond theirs, with no visions and no magic or monsters. A simple realm where seven friends lived together, wishing for more in their lives… and that perhaps not every wish needs to be granted… sometimes it might be better to stay home…
… This is how you reveal you are the true Creator. After the play, you reveal that not all the embellishments were truly embellishments, and show your powers. Golden rays fly through the room as water flows delicately around you. Hidden patters and swirls make themselves apparent across your fur, lighting in the same gold that flows through your veins.
… And then you pelt a hiding Arlecchino with a water ball-
Lmao Arlecchino going back to Snezhnaya and telling the Tsarista about Otter!Creator and having to explain how she knows this.
“They… directed an opera and… hit me in the face… with a water ball…
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHDBFJROWPANWHEUDNWGQKWIDUCH-“ - Dottore & Childe
I’d be laughing to ngl ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱
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slut4slytherinss · 4 months
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Labyrinth
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Pt. 1 - Gold Rush
SEND REQUESTS!!
Summary: reader finds herself falling in love, hard, for Mattheo not long after she broke her own heart over him. Initially convinced that she will never recover from her pain that he caused, she marvels at how she finds comfort in the boy that hurt her.
1,470 words
Warnings: cursing, basically the same as pt.1 minus the angst, so much cheesiness it’s gross, lovey dovey!mattheo bc I’m extremely soft, sort of angsty but in a beautiful way, these aren’t even warnings atp, the other students being jealous cunts, possible references to books or movies, Regulus is STILL dead (wdym he’s literally in bed beside me rn), Dorothea being kind of rude (dw my girl is still your bestie), Drastoria(to all you Drarry shippers I’m sorry), mention of ronmione, slight rush and basically no plot, SUPER FUCKING SHORT IM SORRY😞
2nd person pov
Hufflepuff prefect reader
Female reader
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“It only hurts this much right now.” Was what I was thinking the whole time.
You walk down the hallway aside Mattheo, fingers intertwined. You agreed to try it out and it’s lasted a month, but that doesn’t stop everyone in the castle from starting rumors. He traces circles on the back of your hand with his thumbnail, in a comforting manner, he leans in to whisper in your ear “Let’s go back to my dorm, okay?” You nod. You two go to his dorm a lot, not to hook up, you haven’t had sex since the party, his dorm is like a safe space — and his friends are fucking awesome. You’ve barely even told Dorothea what your relationship has been like, becoming closer and closer with the Slytherins.
-
When you get into his dorm you take your robe off, leaving you in your white button-up, skirt that rests appropriately at your knees, calf high socks and black Doc Martens. Mattheo places your robe gently atop a chair next to his desk before taking his own robe off and kicking his shoes off. “Lay with me, love?” He asks sweetly which causes you to roll your eyes, but oblige. You lie next to him in the bed, just talking. That’s all you two ever do lately, though, it gives you a fair bit of anxiety — trusting him with your secrets. It terrifies you, actually. You need to just—
Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out. I’ll be getting over you, my whole life.
Seriously. He’s unforgettable. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves. Mattheo must feel how tense you are because he begins to trace stars on your back, it’s his little form of comfort. I’ve never been good at that, he’d told you once. Which seems like total bullshit because he always manages to calm you, or at least make you forget about your issues for a while. That also scares you, the fact he can make you want to cry, strangle him, and yourself, but also smile, laugh, hug him. Terrifies you. No one has ever impacted you this much. Everything is moving so fast, but Mattheo is there with you, along for the ride.
You know how scared I am of elevators. Never trust it if it rises fast, it can’t last.
-
You walk into your dorm, laying down on your bed and dropping your bag on the floor. You quickly turn over when you hear Dorothea’s voice “Look who’s finally home.” She says in an annoyed tone. “Dor? What are you doing in here?” You sit up, she looks at you with raised brows and crossed arms. “Really? You start dating Mattheo Riddle, leave me alone for weeks, get new friends and you’re asking me why I’m here?” You swallow, “You told me you’d get over him, you lied to me.” “Dorothea, c’mon, this is like—like a trial, to see if we’re good together, he’s really sweet.” You try to justify your actions “He’s Mattheo Riddle!” She whispers aggressively, shaking her head. “He’s my boyfriend!” You spit out, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. Dorothea visibly flinches, “What?” “He’s—he’s my boyfriend,” you repeat, more confidently. “You just said that the relationship was a trial.” “Well it is, but he’s still my boyfriend. Mine. So stop trying to criticize him and me simply because I care for him.” You breathe out that last part “You care for him?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I care for him. It’s not like—I’m in love with him or something, I just care.” You say quickly. You’re not in love with him. You can’t be, right?
Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?
-
The day after your interaction with Dorothea is, odd, to say the least. You sit outside in the courtyard, leaning against a tree, you’ve been avoiding Mattheo like the plague ever since your revelation. This whole things just feels so—raw. But of course he found you.
It only feels this raw right now, lost in the labyrinth of my mind.
“Hey,” he gives you a small smile. “Hi.” You reply, he sits down next to you. “I haven’t seen you all day, you avoiding me?” That causes you to laugh—and also tell the truth with a few nods. “Yeah, yeah I have.” He tilts his head but doesn’t seem upset in the slightest. “Why’s that?” “Well—um,” you try to get the words out but they seem a little stuck. “It’s okay, take your time.” He brings his hand down to hold yours, tracing gentle circles on your palm. You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. “I care about you, Mattheo.” You admit. He grins, really grins. “I care about you too.” The boy says, “Really?” He nods “Always have,” he leans down so his lips are right next to your ear, “always will.” His whisper is like a secret for only you to hear, a promise that will never be broke, a sacred oath.
Break up, break free, break through, break down. You would break your back to make me break a smile.
-
“Boys!” You call out in a sing-song voice, “I’ve brought sweets!” They got in trouble for talking too loudly during class and were removed from this weeks Hogsmeade weekend, you decided to buy them some sweets. Blaise is the first to you, “Thank Merlin, Y/n!” He snatches a bag from you as you giggle. You toss some sweets onto Draco’s bed as all the boys thank you, Mattheo stands up and wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek. That action causes all the others to groan and tell you to “Get a room.” Pansy and Astoria walk into the room, talking animatedly, Astoria sits on Draco’s bed beside him, tossing bags of clothes at him, “I’ve got you a new suit.” He grins and kisses the side of her neck in thanks. “Y/n! You totally missed it,” Pansy exclaims, practically shoving Mattheo off of you to lock her arm onto yours. “We caught Weasley and Granger snogging in the bathrooms at Three Broomsticks!” You giggle at her words and sit down on Mattheo’s bed with her, “Seriously? You steal my girlfriend and now my bed?” He asks Pansy, in a mock-offended way, she sticks her tongue out at him. “C’est la vie.” Blaise shrugs with a smirk playing at his lips as he eats the chocolate you gave him. “Speaking of that,” Theodore begins “how’s the sex Matt?” He teases, which causes you to blush and Mattheo to shove Theodore. “Shut it man, that’s so gross.” “Oh c’mon!” Astoria exclaims, “Y/n never tells us anything about it.” She shakes her head. “Maybe she doesn’t want to.” Mattheo defends you, you just stay silent. You tune them out, you just hate how everyone already wants you to be sleeping together. Why would you? It’s taken you long enough to call him your boyfriend, let alone touch him (approximately three weeks). Sure, you’ve hooked up before, but never as a couple. That act is supposed to be intimate with a person you care about. So why do it so soon? You’re taken away from your thoughts by the feel of Mattheo’s hand gripping yours.
You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back. Just like that.
-
It’s now been around two months, officially dating, Dorothea has apologized and became friends with the Slytherin’s, it’s all perfect. Except, you and Mattheo still haven’t kissed nor done anything but cuddle and hold hands. You’re not sure why but the act feels too intimate, too scary for you. You’ve kissed lots of guys before—granted none were your boyfriend—but still. You can’t seriously be falling for him, right?
“Hey love,” Mattheo murmurs, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “Did Dorothea let you in?” You question with a yawn, he just hums and nods, sitting next to you on your bed. “How’s my girl doing?” He asks, “Stressed and exhausted.” You reply as you trace your quill along the parchment “You’re seriously doing that extra credit essay?” “Yes, Mattheo, I am. I’m totally failing Slughorn’s class and he never lets us do shit like this for extra credit, I’m savoring it.” He chuckles and pulls you closer to him by your waist. “Just take a little break. For me?” You groan but end up giving in, leaning back against his chest. “You’re so lucky I lo—“ you cut yourself off quickly, immediately looking away from him. He stiffens, “You what?” He murmurs, you swallow. “Nothing, nothing important.” You say quickly. Mattheo desperately wants to change the subject so he just nods and looks forward.
Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?
After a few minutes of silence, Mattheo speaks again “What were you going to say?” He asks in a whisper, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip bone. “It doesn’t matter.” You murmur, but Mattheo is quite persistent and asks again, you finally give in and mutter “I love you.” Which causes his breath to catch, I love you, those words shouldn’t be a big deal—you aren’t asking him to marry you or anything—but they are. He swallows before murmuring “Really?” To which you reply with a timid “Yes.” A slow smile creeps up on his face. “Well, I love you too.” You grin like an idiot, love, a silly thing to be obsessing over—but alas, you are.
Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?
-
A/N: sorry this one was so short, I just wanted to end this on a sweet note.. sooooo yeah. And sorry for the wait lol🙈🙈
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My sibling and I thought of a hilarious sub-plot for Season 2/possible main plot for future seasons of Hazbin Hotel:
First and foremost, it would require the introduction of Archangel Michael, voiced by the one and only Andrew Rannells. We just wanted him to be a part of the cast, but introducing Michael would be really interesting for a few reasons.
For starters, we know there will be discussions between Lucifer and Heaven. 1) He intervened in the Extermination(even though a Hellborn was harmed and Heaven broke their end of the deal). Heaven won't just let that go, especially since Adam is dead(now a sinner???) 2) Pentious was redeemed, so if Lucifer and/or Charlie find our, that would mean they have a LOT more conversations with Heaven.
Let's say druing one of these conversations Lucifer is at his whits end with Sera and the rest of the Heavenly Council. Maybe he makes a demand to bring the Big-Boss-Man into this. Well, you see, God doesn't get involved much unless it's really a big deal, so who better to send in his place than his Gold-Star Son, Michael???
(For the sake of this post, let's run with the idea that Lucifer and Michael are genuinely brothers. Just for the fun of it, we could even say that they're twins and neither can agree on who was "born" first)
And ohhhhh, how Lucifer immediately regrets it, not because Michael is necessarily a threat to Lucifer. No, no, no, Michael is essentially harmless right now. But Michael is Lucifer's "perfect" brother. The golden boy who stood by their father's side while his wayward brother Fell.
And boy, is Michael very well aware of the fact that he's the favorite. Lucifer mostly can't stand him because he's rather smug and entitled. He also 100% refers to himself in the 3rd Person and it makes Lucifer's eye twitch.
Michael isn't really an antagonist, more so an obstacle similar to Sera. He's like a weird mix of Adam and Sera. He's not vulgar like Adam, but he's not exactly the epitome of Heavenly Grace like Sera. Think of the most stereotypical entitled Cinderella step-sister or Sharpay Evans from High School Musical.
Michael has power, that goes unsaid. He's an archangel, of course he has power. However, when he initially defeated Lucifer, it was with the help of God. By all technicalities, Lucifer and Michael are on the same grounds for power. Maybe in the future, if we get an all out war with Heaven, it could come down to a fight between brothers/families. Lucifer might taunt Michael similarly to how he taunted Adam, but Michael is also one of the warriors of Heaven, stronger than everyone except God. This would be a fair fight between the two.
And imagine Charlie trying to process the fact that she has family in Heaven, but they had no interest in even thinking about her. Charlie's ideas of Heaven have already been tainted and she's aware of how Heaven hurt Lucifer, but to really process it and feel it first hand when Michael dismisses her like they aren't direct family? It could help drastically change Charlie's outlook on redeeming sinners into Heaven. Maybe it could push her to have a more radical opinion on Heaven and how it functions. That doesn't even take into account how she'll feel when she finds out where Lilith has been while Hell suffers Extermination after Extermination.
But all angst aside, can we just take a minute to imagine how hilarious it would be to watch Jeremy Jordan and Andrew Rannells banter on screen? It was great to watch Lucifer and Alastor play verbal badminton, but Lucifer and Michael?? Hell, maybe Lucifer and Alastor might finally agree on something and it would be their mutual disliking of Michael.
I also think it'd be really funny for Michael to call Lucifer "Lucy", but in a really condescending way that had Lucifer ready to launch into the most epic Sibling Cat Fight of all time. I also personal think Michael refuses to use forks because a certain Fallen Angel spent at least 200 years antagonizing his dearest brother with one.
This post started as "silly haha, Jeremy and Andrew being silly" and then I got distracted.
The big take away is that I really want Andrew to make an appearance in the show in the future and I think him doing that through Archangel Michael would be brilliant.
Kudos to @anymal28 for helping me with initial idea
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daenerystargaryen06 · 2 months
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This is late 'cause I've been very busy and sick- but let's get into it.
I've seen so many comments like this one on Tik Tok, really terrible platform for comments like these to pop up since everyone likes spreading their hate for Dany on Daenerys edits/videos, especially on other comments that show support for Daenerys and uplift her. But this one in particular genuinely baffles me no, I won't blur the name out; this dude commented this on a public forum for everyone to see. Just don't send him hate or anything... even if this part of the fandom isn't as crazy as all the others.
'Drogon isn't as crazy as his slave master Dany'. Let's break this down, shall we? First point- Dany isn't a slave master, ESPECIALLY to Drogon. Dany was a bridal sex slave herself, in the show at the age of 16/17, in the books at the age of 13. She knows what it's like to be a slave, she was one herself, and due to her enslavement and the horrors she saw when wed to Drogo (his own people's violence against not only her but also the Lhazareen)- Daenerys wants equality for everyone. She breaks the chains from those enslaved in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen. She works to free these people from their sufferings and plight and give them agency to achieve freedom for themselves and no longer live under the cruelty of the Masters. In the show, she sets up a council of freedmen to govern themselves to rule the cities, and she ensures the Masters no longer remained a threat to her people before she left to Westeros. In the Books, she is currently struggling against the Masters and is facing many struggles, but she is still striving to ensure her people remain free and safe from the Masters without worry of cruelty and fear under the Masters for their own profit.
"There speaks one who has been neither." Dany's nostrils flared. "Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I . . . my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?" -A Storm of Swords - Daenerys II
"He was too eloquent for her. Dany had no answer for him, only the raw feeling in her belly. "Slavery is not the same as rain," she insisted. "I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No man wants to be owned." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys III
Even worse is that this comment refers to Dany as being DROGON's slave master. Drogon has never been considered a slave to Dany. He is her child, her son. Her dragons are her children. Dany has never regarded them as slaves, nor will she ever regard to them as such. Rhaegal and Viserion were chained because Drogon killed a child, and Dany feared her dragons would grow unruly and begin to kill more of her people, yet she also regrets this decision. She cries when she does this in the show. She reflects upon it and regrets it in the books. She will always care for and love her dragons, who she loves alike to a mother. She regards to them as her children and would never willingly harm them.
In the show and books, Dany struggles with Drogon making his own decisions. But she does not try to enforce him under her will like a Master would a slave. She wants him to listen, yes, but every mother wants their child to listen and behave. In the show, she never harms Drogon or forces him to submit, he WILLINGLY listens to her once she gains back her identity after burning the Khals in Vaes Dothrak and going against the Masters when she returns to Meereen. If he didn't wish to listen, he wouldn't have to, as he possesses a mind and will of his own which was already shown in seasons 4-5. In the books, she has to whip Drogon into submission, but it was not to enslave Drogon- it was to SAVE him and her people from death in the Fighting Pit when he comes and almost loses his life while burning the people around him. If not for her, Drogon would have died, and he attacks back at her as well within the Pit before he submits to her and allows her to ride upon him away from the violence that was occurring.
Calling Dany Drogon's slave master is alike to calling every other Targ before her slave masters to their dragons, when we know that isn't true, and Dany's connection to her dragons is actually very much different and runs deeper than that of her ancestors with their own dragons.
Now, on the topic of 'craziness', Dany is far from it. In the show, she only became 'crazy' in the very last few episodes of the last season, when the writers ruined her character all for their excuse to have Jon kill her since they couldn't even think up a better ending. Before that, are we just going to ignore the fact that Dany actually went against what her father had done, did things for the good of others and cared for those considered 'lesser', and saved basically all of Westeros when she allied with Jon and it was the majority of HER armies and dragons that fought against the WW and NK? She only went 'crazy' when the writers wanted her to, and even that I don't consider canon, due to the fact she was painted as a HERO before they assassinated her entire character and made her go off the deep end and even that I don't view as just 'crazy'.
In the books, she fears becoming like her father, she is compared most to Rhaegar (a character many in the books view as sane and heroic), and she reflects most upon her actions and questions her decisions made. She is a grey character at most, and even still, she is the one character that does the most good and selfless acts in the books compared to everyone else. She wants what is best for her people, she wants to make them happy and give them good lives, and she wants to be a good Queen who isn't just feared or violent to achieve what she wants. She forgoes Westeros to keep in Meereen for her people's safety. She works the hardest to attempt for peace with the Masters without bloodshed or acts of cruelty and she is compassionate, intelligent, and an empathetic woman. She sees suffering and instead of accepting it like everyone else in that world has, she works AGAINST it to save those who do suffer due to her own experiences of suffering and pain. She is, in all, a hero who wants to do good. That doesn't seem very 'crazy' or 'slave master' to me.
Someone should really pick up the books, but I fear that their reading comprehension would be just as bad as their comments on Tik Tok.
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eudaimonia83 · 11 months
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@cursebrkr posted about Elain giving Lucien a Solstice present and I was like, well hell, I’ve got a fic for that 🥰
A tiny but important piece of background: Elain recently read in a reference book about hyraeths, light-butterflies of the Autumn and Summer courts who migrate across the border and are tended by air sprites in their mating groves.
Enjoy! 😁
——————————
Elain blinked, and the last of the darkness slid away. Before her was the erstwhile prince of Autumn, his hair braided and smoothly caught back at the nape of his neck, a bright blue coat with subtle gold threading outlining his broad shoulders. Even dressed relatively modestly, he gleamed, all color and light, all mischief and elegant trickery. So Fae. Even now it sent ripples up her spine, sliding along the knife edge between fear of him and trust in him. His golden eye glinted as he returned Feyre’s smile. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday for all the stars in Velaris,” he said, his voice light and teasing. “Not that even you could give those away.”
“Don’t put it past me,” Feyre winked at him.
Lucien turned to Elain, whose voice was as firmly caught in her throat as a burr stuck in a glove. “Good evening, Lady,” he said, with a slight bow. She swallowed, and nodded.
His good eye narrowed, ever so slightly, taking her in at a quick glance. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, swinging his eyes back to Feyre, and smiling disarmingly. “The pair of you aren’t doing the party any favors sitting here without partaking.”
Feyre protested, laughing, but Lucien cocked his head and stared at her in mock accusation until she relented with a roll of her eyes. “Very well then. A half glass of the gold wine.”
He moved off toward the bar cart with a smooth stride. Feyre’s gaze shifted to Elain, whose hands were clenched tightly in her lap. What had he seen?
Feyre leaned in and said, her eyes dancing, “That’s a magnificent color on him, don’t you agree?”
Elain blushed from her ears to her chest, hating her sister for being so open, so obvious, so damn gleeful. It was confusing enough to be around him without everyone watching and whispering. She was trying to figure out what to say when he returned, a glass in each hand. He handed the wine cup to Feyre, who thanked him and then slyly slid away; he pushed a highball glass into her hand as they found themselves alone.
“Drink it,” he murmured, almost inaudible over the chatter of the party. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
She clutched the glass hard and stared at him.
“It’s only water,” he said, a trifle defensive. “You should drink it. It’s too warm in here and you’re flushed.” He leaned forward against the chaise, body language utterly relaxed — no one watching from a distance would think he was talking about anything but pleasantries — but a strain in his voice belied all that as he asked, “Did you just have…a vision?”
She put the glass to her lips and drank, the cold of the water a welcome rush on her tongue. The shock of it loosened her voice. She tried to stay as calm as possible, to imitate his nonchalance. “How did you know?”
His smile was tight. Pained. “Even if I hadn’t felt it here…” he touched his chest lightly, over his heart — “your face would’ve given it away.”
“How?”
“You…” He flexed his fingers as if they hurt. “You looked the same as…as back then. When you were first Fae.” He threw a glance at the fireplace with its evergreen bower and gestured at it, maintaining the small talk facade with ease. “Are you well?”
Surprised, she couldn’t help but turn and look him full in the face. “I’m…”
He turned his head, quizzical, as she trailed off. “You’re not well?”
“No, I’m all right,” she said, hurriedly. “But — you don’t want to know what I saw?”
Everyone always pounced when they heard she’d had a vision, starving for details, most of which she could never recall. But his eyebrows twitched together and back apart as he wiped the concern from his face, turning it bland and calm. “Not if you don’t want to tell me.”
Elain drew in a deep breath and let it out in a trembling sigh that turned into a laugh, tremulous and true — and even a little sad, if she was honest. He cast his eyes down and smiled at his hands, folded on the back of the couch. “Don’t laugh at me, Lady.”
“But you’re ridiculous, my lord,” she said, her humor finally cresting over the prickle behind her eyes.
“Eternally,” he agreed.
She was about to give him a pert answer when she noticed Feyre, standing on the other side of the parlor and grinning like the Mad Cat in their childhood storybook. As their eyes locked, Feyre seized Mor’s arm, and the two of them turned away at the same moment, leaning their heads together. Lucien followed her gaze and then looked immediately away, back down at his hands. “Being watched all the time must get tedious,” he said. “No wonder you guard your secrets.”
“I have none of consequence,” she murmured.
“Why, Mother of Mercy. Now you’re even bringing in lies. How enchanting.” His foxlike grin split his face. She couldn’t control the lurch in her chest. “I like you deceitful, Blossom. It’s intriguing.”
“Well, everyone else has their secrets,” she fired at him. “Can’t I have any of my own?”
“Certainly,” he said. He seemed utterly earnest. “I only ask that you promise to share with me the ones you ask me to keep.”
She paled. Was he going to give her away? An outright lie to Cassian and Nesta, a lie of omission to Rhysand and Feyre…they’d have her under the daemati claws in no time…there would be no secrets then, no mind left, they’d have it all and she’d be a shell of herself…
He extended his hand in a calming motion, seeming to sense her unease. “Not just yet,” he murmured. “When you’re ready. Til you instruct it, I’ll keep my silence.”
She couldn’t think of what to say, but he straightened up and nodded as Rhysand approached. She froze, feeling the sly rake of his claws across her thoughts, and focused hard on the half-full drink in her hand.
“Lucien,” Rhys greeted him, smooth and effortless as always. “Thank you for coming.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Lucien replied, and Elain was strongly reminded of the dukes and earls at the dances back in the human lands; that charm, the utter facility of sliding from one interaction to another. “Happiest of birthdays to the High Lady.”
Rhys nodded, immense satisfaction on his face as his violet eyes scanned the merry gathering. Cassian had Nyx on his shoulders; Nesta’s hand rested protectively on Nyx’s leg to keep him from falling backwards. Azriel sat by the window, shadows romping with the fluttering faelights, while Mor and Feyre argued playfully over a chessboard. And Amren stood slightly apart from the rest, her pale eyes surveying keenly. Rhys asked, a trifle absently, “How do the human lands fare?”
Lucien sighed. “The lands are buried under snow, as the seasons dictate. The humans themselves are…suffering.”
Rhys raised his eyebrows. “The fall harvest was sufficient. Once the crops come in in spring…”
“…they will still be suffering,” Lucien interrupted. “They cannot eat their seed crops if they hope to lay in the fields for next season. And yet they cannot starve. Everything there is restless. People who are hungry and sick and neglected will not tolerate it for long.”
Elain’s insides squeezed in shock. No one interrupted the High Lord. Not even Feyre, who always gazed at him with pride. But even more critically, his words burrowed through her surprise: the humans were hungry and sick. That was her village. Her friends. Mayfer, the bustling harbor city where she’d visited to wait for her father’s ships. Her former home.
Lucien continued, “Jurian has purchased extra grain stores from the continent. And Vassa took in several hundred of the country folk who would have starved otherwise, onto Lord Nolan’s estate.”
“Generous of her,” Rhys remarked. He sounded ever so slightly bored, as his eyes followed Feyre’s every move.
“Just keeping body and soul together,” Lucien replied, and his tone dropped. His expression remained mild as Elain glanced between the two males. But without even knowing how she knew it, she thought he is angry, before remembering to keep her thoughts focused on her glass of water. Angry at Rhysand. For what?
It could be any number of things, a small voice inside her head hissed, and she felt a tiny stab of shame, then covered it with thinking of how cold the glass was in her hand, beading with condensation.
“Clearly. Come see me in the morning and give a full report,” Rhys said, calm and unconcerned. But his eyes flashed as they settled briefly upon Elain. “And get Elain another glass of water. She’s parched, aren’t you, little sister?” His smile was thin and cold, and he moved away, sleek as a shadow, to stand behind Feyre, one arm draped lazily over her shoulder, fiddling idly with the knobbly handwoven string that supported the gold medallion around her neck. She reached up to stroke his wrist; the very picture of domesticity. Elain was pleased to discover that she could in fact distract him with obvious surface thoughts, to misdirect from her deeper misgivings — since she had no expertise in mental shields, that could be a useful tactic, even if it was flimsy. But warring with her satisfaction came a deep unease.
“Presents!” Mor called out from close to the fireplace, dragging a sack of brightly wrapped gifts out of a pocket realm, and everyone clustered around the couch for the exchange. Elain knew this would dissolve into spoiling the baby, and she was right; everyone competed for the best present for Nyx, who was getting a bit tired and cranky, and wanted only to play with the bright ribbons on the packages. Everyone had gotten one another gifts, and everyone exclaimed over the silk scarves, the sharp knives, the antique astrolabe that Feyre had sourced from the Day Court for Rhys…but, Elain noticed again and again, no one had gotten any gifts for Lucien.
She stole another glance at Lucien. He seemed unperturbed, smiling at the chaos of wrapping paper and mirth as Cassian opened a leather satchel from Mor with a suggestive shape. He howled with laughter as she winked and told him with supreme innocence that it was for use in the annual snowball fight. Nesta rolled her eyes, and Cassian stuffed the satchel into her hands with a hooded glance. Elain felt curiously voyeuristic, as though she’d witnessed something she wasn’t supposed to see; a tiny window into a private moment between her sister and the powerful male she was mated to. She thought of the little blue box, sitting on the table in the next room, and longed for the right moment to give it to him. But it didn’t seem appropriate, not here; not with everyone watching. She didn’t dare to give everyone else a tiny window into what was — or perhaps wasn’t — between her and Lucien. Not when it would be giggled over and teased and demeaned.
She broke away a few minutes later to gather all her presents together; jasmine soap from Nesta, tulip bulbs from Feyre, a box of expensive spices from Rhys, and found him in the hallway pulling his cloak off the hook.
“You’re leaving?” she blurted out, before she could think of anything better to say.
He turned, masking his surprise with a wry grin. “Overstaying a welcome is poor etiquette, I’ve found.”
“You’re welcome here,” she insisted. Was it her imagination that his eyebrows twitched in denial?
“Thank you,” he said, “but I think this party is for family now. And I’m not that. Whatever else I may be.”
“But…” — was she really going to say it? Her stomach clenched. Brave. Be brave. “But…I haven’t given you your present yet.”
He froze, comically halfway through securing the cloak buttons. “My what?”
“Your — your present,” she stammered. Gods above, untie her tongue from these hopeless knots. “I’m sorry no one else got you anything. But I did.”
As soon as she said it, it sounded false. Petulant. Like she was seeking a compliment.
“What for?” he asked, and he sounded bemused enough that she laughed, short and quiet.
“For Solstice, silly,” she said. She beckoned him into the darkened sitting area, turning on the lamp as she did. He followed, wary, keeping his distance.
She pushed the box at him, unsure of how to proceed, but now committed to seeing it through. He stared at it as though it was a trick, or a bomb that would explode in his face if he touched it.
“But you didn’t need to get me anything,” he said.
“I — I know,” she said, and her courage flagged. The box sank an inch or two from where she’d held it out to him. “But I wanted to. You did save my life, remember, so it’s only fair that I thank you properly.” She squared her shoulders, and in an attempt at being merry, said with a faint smile, “And I have a few Solstices to catch up on with you.”
He still didn’t move.
“Take it.” She moved two steps closer, til the box was within reach of his hand.
And with a brief hesitation, he reached up and took the box from her, pulled the ribbon off it, and opened it.
Elain was consumed with the strangest twirling in her gut, a spiral of anxiety and excitement. Gods. Dear gods. It was stupid. So stupid. Unutterably stupid, in fact. How could she have thought that it would be enough, when she had never accepted his gifts with anything but awkwardness, that this tiny thing would say everything she wanted it to?
Her cheeks flamed. She wondered if this was what it was to slowly choke…to asphyxiate under the weight of her own mistakes.
And still it was quiet. Finally, desperately, she dragged her eyes up from where her fingers twisted with anxiety and —
— and he was looking at her, his face a mix of gratitude and grief. Their eyes locked so tightly she almost heard the click of a key.
“A hyraeth,” he murmured, pulling the little pin from the box. The jeweler had fashioned it from a single piece of bright yellow amber that caught the light like honey, but also gleamed like sunshine on water. Elain had selected it herself. The etchings on the edges were done in black lacquer, faceting the surface of the amber just like the patterns on butterflies’ wings. The jeweler had done a lovely job, but her stomach corkscrewed into her legs nonetheless. Did he not like it?
“Well, not a real one,” she said hurriedly. “Just their likeness in a pin for your hair, or your lapel. But I thought you might like it…they’re from the Autumn Court,” she blurted, realizing she was babbling and cursing herself roundly for it, trying to lower her voice, which - drown her in the damned cauldron - was so much louder than was necessary.
“I know,” he said. “From the Vilderavian Groves, at the borders of Summer.” His voice fractured ever so slightly at the edges.
Her eyes widened. “Have you seen it?”
“Yes,” he replied, and there was a reverence in his voice that rippled through her like wind through grass. “Long ago. Just once. They alight on the great trunks of the hemlock trees in a shimmering mass. An ocean of tiny wings, all amber and gold and black, whispering among the green foliage. It’s a special place; the only evergreen spot in Autumn. And the sight — the whole forest alive with trembling light — is magnificent. There’s nothing like it.”
She nodded. “It made me think…” She spread her hands in defeat. That home is a journey, rather than a place. That it might not obey borders or rules, but seek its own way across barriers. That to find it, to keep it, one can endure unimaginable toil and turmoil. That there is magic in the smallest things. “…that you might someday find a place for your heart to rest. Unfathomable as that may be now.”
She could have sworn there was a gleam in his eyes, just for a moment. He closed his hand over the little pin. “It’s beautiful,” he said, softly. And then, so gently that had she not been straining toward him with every cell of her treacherous body, she would not have heard him: “I think you’ve fathomed me quite well, Blossom. Thank you.”
His eyes slid down to her lips, so close…the moment brief and shimmering, a bubble on the wind…
…and it shattered, burst by the arrival of Nyx, screaming in uninhibited toddler glee as Cassian mock-chased him through the hallway and past the open doors. Lucien started and stepped back. Elain very nearly followed him, so strong was the pull of the bond’s tidal undertow in her ribs, but she knew it was too late. Misery blooming in her heart, she turned to go.
“Happy Solstice, Elain,” he murmured.
She looked back over her shoulder, and saw him standing in the pool of light from the lamp. In that moment, he seemed aglow himself somehow. A living sun.
“Happy Solstice, Lucien,” she replied; and, unbidden, unsought, a smile rose to her lips. He returned it, shyly — and low in her gut, an ember, dormant under the ash of everything that had happened, flickered into a tiny flame.
It was nothing, she told herself sternly as she climbed the stairs to her room. So small. But even a tiny light could bring a traveler safe home.
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deathbxnny · 11 months
Note
Hello can I request a honkai star rail x male genshin impact reader
The reader is the older brother of ningguang and also very rich and his was know for his great title " the lord of gold "
And he really love to give gifts to a person he really love or like
And he has a geo vision and is a catalyst
The character is gepard, welt, dan heng, jing yuan and blade and what is their reaction of him giving lots of gifts
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A/N: Hello! I was a little confused by you sending this request, as you've already requested something similar to this, but that's alright! Also if you're ever unsure of whether my requests are open or not, please check my profile bio!<33
Additionally, I have a limit of 4 characters per request at the moment, due to me having many requests to go through! So I had to leave out Dan Heng for this one! I'm sorry, if I've disappointed you with this and hope you can still enjoy it! Thank you!<33
Content: Fluff, established relationship, reader just spoiling everyone, sfw
Reader is asked to be male, but pronouns aren't mentioned in this!
((Not fully proofread))
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》Gepard Landau
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Gepard was impressed by your status and was quite proud to have an s/o like you. He also made sure to give your sister a good impression of himself, as he didn't want to embarrass or disappoint you in any way. Even with you reassuring him that there is no need for it, he'll still do his best for you.
With that said, he gets very flustered, whenever you spoil him half to death with anything he as much as glances at. You never expect anything in return and usually tell him that there is no need for him to give you anything, but he'll still try to return the favour by spoiling you back in his own ways. Whether it be through materialistic things or giving you endless affection.
He loves seeing you fight alongside him, especially when he can observe your Geo vision in action. That usually leads to him to also inspect your catalyst in interest, as he mentally goes through it's usefulness in battle. He's just impressed with everything about you.
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》Welt Yang
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Welt treats you like he treats everyone else, as he doesn't want you to feel out of place with him. You appreciate it, considering how demanding your job and life in general can be. Welt gives you a sense of normalcy that you really crave and need. Especially as your sister also approves of him for his calm and collected demeanor around you.
And for that, you usually spoil him with everything he wants and needs as a thank you. Or at least you attempt to, since he usually tries telling you that he has no need for all of these things, when all he really needs is you. He always has a way of flustering you so easily with minimal effort, that just makes you want to spoil him even more.
He enjoys seeing you use your abilities, mainly as he wants to know everything about them. Your Geo vision especially interests him. So that usually ends up with him asking you to tell him all about your powers, as he listens to you intently and writes down every little detail.
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》Jing Yuan
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Jing Yuan never makes a big deal out of your rank, as you never make one out of his. To him, you are simply his dear lover, who just happens to be super rich and powerful. He treats your sister with the same respect, which earns him her approval rather quickly with ease. His charms are just too hard to resist, after all.
And you seem to know that quite well, as you spoil him at any chance you get. He does the same with you, so it's only fair. He doesn't mind your attention and love at all and even embraces it willingly with open arms. He keeps anything and everything you give him too.
He's proud of how powerful and strong you are in battle and often asks you to train with him. He's fascinated by your abilities and likes to listen to you talk about them. He'll definitely keep every detail in mind for future reference.
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》Blade
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Blade doesn't care for your status or your money, as he fell in love with you and only you. Everything else doesn't matter to him. He has a hard time getting along with your sister, due to his disinterest in upkeeping anyone's reputation, but he'll try to at least be somewhat civil with her on your request. He can't really say no to you after all, as you are his only weakness, which is something he'd never admit.
He doesn't want you spoiling him, or at least, that's what he claims. You don't miss the small spark in his eyes, whenever you give him something you know he'll like. He'll be stubborn and act indifferent, whilst still accepting your gifts nearly eagerly. You find it quite amusing and adorable, to say the least.
He is most interested in your capabilities on the battlefield and is secretly impressed by your strength. He absolutely loves fighting alongside you, as it makes him feel even more powerfully. He never directly compliments you for it, but you still know how much he appreciates you.
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A/N: I hope this was okay! Thank you again for the request and sorry, that I had to limit it!<33
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faislittlewhiteraven · 2 months
Text
Undertale/ISAT crossover thoughts
Don't really want to write one myself (already got enough fics I'm failing to write XD) but ever since I finished In Stars and Time I've been thinking how I'd write a crossover between these two amazing games and I figured I'd share my notes in case anyone needs a bit of help/motivation in writing their own~ =D
Warning: These will mostly be in 'order of thought' as it's all barebones stuff. Also contains FULL spoilers for both Undertale and In Stars and Time so er, if you're still looking to play those/still getting through them don't read this and please play this incredible games.
Mt Ebott is located on The Island and the shattering of the Barrier brings the ability to see color back to all those on the (ISAT) surface.
Humans losing the ability to see color in ISAT was due to them/the 'wish wizards' of The Island sacrificing it (along side their seven strongest 'colour casters') in a Wish Craft ritual, naturally leading to humanity losing most of their 'colour magic' knowledge.
Undertale's 'sepia flashbacks' were all Chara's memories of how the world looked to them, BUT once in the Underground they were able to see (and remember things on the Surface) in color (hence the whole 'golden flowers' bit; it was still mostly just a cover story but Chara genuinely wished that they could see their favorite flower field as the 'gold' they realized it was rather than the 'mid tones' they saw it as on the Surface).
...The 'erasure' of the Island I'm thinking might've been accidentally poor Chara and Asriel's fault: with Chara's 'ritual' killing of themselves via buttercup taking three days to happen, Chara being from the Island insisting Asriel always give them flowers in groups of three, seven and thirteen, and an entire Underground filled with tons and tons of 'trapped' wishes from monster kind for their freedom combining with Chara's self loathing/desire to hurt those who hurt them trapping them in a loop that Just. Wouldn't. End. until Chara eventually snapped and pulled a 'May these people, this Island, EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE WHO'D EVER HURT THE MONSTERS I LOVE including me BE ERASED UNTIL THE MONSTERS ARE FREE!' and um. Welp. There went an entire nation... (also Flowey eventually remembered some of this but only after going back to being Flowey post Asriel and probably it took a while for him to sort through all that).
Which er, means in this fic, that the people of The Island and the Island itself are still 100% there but they've all spent roughly 8 years or so all blitzed out of their minds: Need to think of Chara's exact wish wording so its not just 'corpses everywhere' but very good odds the people on the Island were either running on full automatic for years or able to remember some stuff but only if they very very carefully did not think of themselves as their own countrymen/used the languages of elsewhere/were careful not to think of where they were as any actual location within their country...
...Which naturally would effect the kids by far the most as their very language is basically a brown note (bilingual types could at least swap over to a different language but likely most of The Island was rendered silent) and well, pretty hard to remember Mt Ebbot is the mountain that must not be climbed when you can't think of the locations around you by name and the adults may or may not remember the kids exist half the time so... Yeah. Cue a lot of kids climbing up the mountain due to both lack of warnings and increased chances of feeling ignored/isolated/hurt.
Aka why in Undertale we can never hear/read anything Frisk says, why the monsters outside of Flowey/Asriel never refer to Chara by name and why no one remembers Frisk's name until after the Barrier shatters: Chara's 'Wish' couldn't be broken until then.
Not sure where all the anime and high tech that's washing into the Underground is coming from but either The Island used to be a massive tech hub prior to memory erasure, a LOT of tech was lost along with the loss of color or The Island's memory erasure in the ISAT world color magitech? maybe the wizards tried to seal away more than just monsters?, or IDK maybe the Underground barrier techincally had them displaced outside of Space and Time a bit and the garbage that was washing in was from literally everywhere thanks to the Universe wanting to help them or something (side note: realizing the memory erasure from Chara may have accidentally snipped Universe worship from the monsters as well since they clearly venerate the stars also but well. That longing for the stars DID cause them pain so..).
Imagining that Siffrin and party are in Bambouche meeting Bonnie's sister (or idk, having a vacation or reunion there if you wanna give Siff a bit more recovery/'explaining his issues to his family' time) when the Barrier is broken and all the colors come rushing back. Best first sunset ever (right before the entire Surface world kinda flips out over color, and to a lesser extent those familiar with The Island start remembering more and more details as the 'curse' weakens a little with every monster leaving Mt Ebbot) followed up by Siffren and the others absolutely losing their minds over how beautiful the stars are with just a tiny bit of color to them (the stars no longer being passively pushed out of people's awareness helps).
Anyway next day the party realize they have to investigate: Partly because Siff is well, kind of losing their mind over being able to see and remember home a little, but also because W.T.F and the Island is clearly the epicenter of everything going on. ...Also Siff may remember childhood stories about colors being locked away to serve as warning for if the Monsters returned so um. That's could be a thing.
Meanwhile the Monsters are getting a MUCH warmer reception from the local humans than they ever could've imagined (accidentally saving a nation from enforced amnesia kinda does that) and are also very confused as to why no one knows who they should get in contact with for formal alliance stuff (not sure if The Island has much of a government left at this point honestly...)
Would Flowey and the ghosty Chara acompanying Frisk count as Sadnesses???
... And er, that's all I got plot/setup wise. Most of my brain energy had been spent on imagining what soul colors all the ISAT cast have and also 'What Pokemon would they all be if they ended up in a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon game?' so have a list with my reasoning on that front! =D
Siffrin: Blue/Integrity - Might seem like an odd choice given his constant lying/acting but like. Given all of the memory erasure and the torture of the loops Siffrin's absolute refusal to compromise his family's happiness/safety or use the loops for literally anything not 'helping family/ending the loops' based (even when he's basically losing his mind and could really use just... Taking a loop or three to goof off or something) just screams how devoted he is to what he believes in and well, the amount he lies syncs up well with how insane he's going so yeah. Siffren is an Integrity soul who's having a really really hard time being true to himself due to all the wobbie breaking he's gone through all his life. Specifically I like to picture his soul as a very dark, deep black/blue with little pinpricks of other colored light (mostly green, red and yellow), like a tiny heart shaped starry night's sky <3 (And er, bet that soul went very 'red/bleeding sky' as he was losing it in Act 5; Determination isn't his color by nature but they were not well at that point at all).
Isabeau: Cyan/Patience - Isa is super kind and all sorts of things but what really sets him apart is just how patient he is about everything (in ways both good and bad). I like to imagine his soul looking like a blue daytime sky, maybe with the odd white cloud and yellow 'sun' dot: partly because it fits him but also partly to cutely contrast Siffrin's. *cue me humming Like Morning Follows Night from the RWBY OST because I mean. It kinda fits honestly
Mirabelle: Orange/Bravery and/or Yellow/Justice - Again another 'you might not think so' but like. Mirabelle is hella gutsy despite her anxiety and I admire her so so much (also JUSTICE BARRIER REFLECT AGAINST THE KING YAAAAGH! XD) Not super attached to it as Isa and Siff's but the orange/yellow glow of a sunset (maybe with some pink/purple along the edges to show her Perseverance <3).
Odiel: Green/Kindness - She's hella awkward about how much she cares and not the greatest at reading situations/reacting gently but like. Her sheer affection towards the others, her always watching and coming out with the bandages and how she point blank tells Siff 'nope, not angry at you nearly blowing up the world. Also you trying to do that because you love us is cute' means I can't really see her any other way~ Not sure if her soul would be dark green (for more Integrity) or more light green (for more Justice) but all in all, very very green, like light/dark speckled leaves <3
Bonnie: Purple/Perseverance - This kid endures so much so well I swear (they're also really brave so a little orange would work well too but despite everything I don't think bravery is their main characteristic). I like to think of their soul as very 'purple evening clouds with bits of brave orange gold/setting sun on the edges'.
And Loop has a White boss monster soul for reasons; thinking that in this crossover that Monsters believe that they were born from the Universe's compassion (with The Islander's myths claiming they're the result of failed/'cursed' wishes like the 'brother who can understand my suffering Wish Craft' fairytale Siff finds in the Orary room) and both Monsters and the Islanders believing Sadnesses are born from forcing a wish of cruelty/sorrow that goes against the will of the Universe (cue Chara and Flowey who probably were Sadnesses in this until the breaking of the Barrier grumbling that yeah that sounds about right and The King from ISAT proving to even more aaagh than he already was).
And yeah. I'm out of babble thoughts now so hope that this was interesting for you all and please feel free to yoink any ideas that snag your interest <3
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waitmyturtles · 6 months
Text
Last Twilight, episode 1: reflections
TW: suicide
ALLLLLLLLRIGHT! Aof Noppharnach began our year with Moonlight Chicken; interjected it with Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars, and bookends it with Last Twilight. I've got my cha yen ready (not too sweet), here we go, Last Twilight, episode 1.
Some quick notes on random stuff first, then themes I'm picking up on:
1) Yes, we had to have Doc Jimmy start a new series with a new fight, huh (and always in these bowling shirt/jackets, too)
2) Ajahn Pichai with the gold chain, sheeeet! (Listen. It's my OGMMTVC Bad Buddy Meta Month. Just about everyone working on this show on the screenwriting and directing team are BBS alums. The comparisons will be unavoidable!)
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3) Why do I know Sea Tawinan? It’s not because I watched Vice Versa (I stayed away), but because he was great in a small role in 55:15 Never Too Late, AND, more importantly, homeboy wore an off-shoulder Fendi sweater WITH a blazer (CLAP EMOJIS) to some GMMTV event, which warmed my couture cockles. Much respect for the taste! (Poor @lurkingshan has had to literally hear about my fashion obsession with this get-up MULTIPLE TIMES, sorry Shan, palms together!)
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4) Of the few episodes of Midnight Museum and UMG that I watched earlier this year, I was not impressed with Namtan Tipnaree, but I appreciate that she's starting off quite strong and moodily here. (Also, UMG's script did literally no human being any justice.)
@twig-tea has gathered the ragged and burnt out (oh, is that just me, lmao) Ephemerality Squad from the Only Friends meta circle to join them in a Last Twilight Liminality.... what should we call ourselves, the Liminality League? The Liminality Legion? Someone choose! Anyway, I am super down, and ready to start chewing on some themes. Twig captured the big theme of liminality, of time purgatory, and I totally agree with what you've gotten down in your post, Twig.
In the preview episode for this series, Before Last Twilight, we learn that Day has 180 days -- six months -- of vision left. At the same time, Mhok has 180 days -- six months -- to earn enough money to buy back his late sister's car.
In addition to liminality/time purgatory (this is only my coinage, btw, a way in which I can understand the moment in life this show is capturing), we clearly have a theme of cars and movement. Mhok is a mechanic. He wants to keep his late sister's car. The Bimmer that Night is driving is Day's car. Mhok has to get Day home on the back of a motorcycle as Night had to drive away while Day was wandering in the middle of the road. A car can move backwards only very temporarily, and will HAVE to move forwards at any point in time in order to get to another location (..... unless you're a driver from New Jersey, ayooo!). The car belonging to the late Rung is very much in purgatory at the moment.
We have a theme of sibling rivalry between Day and Night. Day was the success of the family, knows it, and hangs it over Night's head. And we have a theme of opposites. Day, Night, blind, seeing. I can play badminton, I cannot play badminton.
(BY THE WAY! We know we'll be reading more into badminton, AND in the rivalry of Day and Night, AND in the rivalry of Sea and Mark in this series, yes? Mark Pakin and Sea Tawinan are both national-level Thai badminton players who chose acting as their careers. They're facing off in some GMMTV BL sports tournament at the end of the year. I hope it's slightly aggressive! In Before Last Twilight, Sea actually made reference to his rivalry with Mark. Ooooh, TESTY!)
While I'm watching closely the tension between Day and Night, I'm also watching for the stress and pressure that caring for Day will put on Mhok, as well as Night and his and Day's mother. As many of us are watching Last Twilight very closely for accuracy and authenticity in reflecting the experience of a disabled person in an unaccommodating environment; I'm also looking to this show to hopefully capture stories of caregiver stress, which is an incredibly real and important phenomenon (relevant articles here and here).
As I always, always harken to in my posts: behavioral change is very real, and very difficult -- especially when behavioral change is forced upon an individual AND/OR a group, all of which contain very different emotional constructions. Day and Night's forced behavioral change, based on Day's vision condition, has very naturally and automatically caused stress in the group dynamic of Day's family system, as we saw in the outburst in Day's car. I wonder how Mhok will deal with that stress, and how he'll manage his own stress vis à vis caring for Day.
Last theme for now, and then some concluding thoughts. Mhok's emotional distance from his sister's suicide. He can't bring himself to connect with it directly.
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I'm eating this up. It's certainly Mhok's way of grieving at the moment. He's also talking with his ex-girlfriend in both of these scenes. There's emotional space between him and Rung, between him and Porjai. And certainly there's simmering and unresolved anger as well -- honestly, the whole emotional circle. But Mhok, at this point, is not toeing the line of getting close to those emotions, and is engaging with the memory of his sister with distance, which is bound to be addressed vis à vis his connection with Day.
There's a lot of anger, a lot of regret, a lot of avoidance, a lot of dancing around the honest truth. Mhok and Day are likely conduits of emotional openness and steadiness to each other; we will see how it plays out.
What do I think of JimmySea? I'm not you're average Wai hater -- I really liked Jimmy as Wai in Bad Buddy. Because I didn't watch Vice Versa, I honestly don't know what I think about him in a lead role. So I am going in REAL fresh, knowing nothing about JimmySea's chemistry, and I like what I'm seeing so far, particularly with Jimmy's emotional control. I appreciate having seen a bit of the work they did together in Before Last Twilight to get to this series premiere.
Aof has done this before: he's recognized potential in pairings (specifically in Dark Blue Kiss with TayNew and Still 2gether with BrightWin) to come up with fabulous shows. So I have trust that he knows what he's doing with JimmySea. Let's see. I really like this so far, but Only Friends did indeed burn me out to a crisp, so I'm allowing myself the slightest touch of hesitancy as I get into a new and big GMMTV show.
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glorified-red · 1 year
Text
Christmas Preparations
summary: The Manor was full of bustling activity as everyone helped decorate for the upcoming holiday. Damian invited you over to help, he didn't intend for what happened next.
word count: 2,530~
warnings: pure fluff, a small reference to Jason & Martha/Thomas Wayne's passing.
Merry Christmas! This is for the discord 2022 Secret Santa event as my gift to the wonderful @birdy-bat-writes hope you enjoy, my love :)
Check out the other Secret Santa Gifts!
@birdy-bat-writes
@unmotivatedwrit3r
@quillsareswords
@citrinesparkles
I have to thank @unmotivatedwrit3r for sitting on call with me to get me to actually finish this in time and sitting through me trying to figure out what word I was thinking of. They helped me plan out these head canons! that gave me some fun context to this fic. 10/10 go support them.
Christmas in the Manor was always a beautiful sight to see. Evergreens cascaded down every railing, accentuated with vibrant red ornaments and matching ribbons. Icicle lights were hung from every balcony as if snow itself made its way into the house. Wreaths, carefully adorned with their own lights and ribbons, lined each corridor to fill the hallways with warmth and light. 
Bells chimed under doorways where mistletoe lay hidden. Traditionally decorated trees, with vibrant ornaments and bright lights, stood tall in almost every room. The grandest tree of all was the centerpiece of the great hall, tall enough to be touched from the balconies of the second story. 
It was the iconic Wayne touch to every charity gala this time of year. Christmas could truly begin in Gotham once the star was placed atop that tree at the end of the Thanksgiving Speeches, where hundreds of people gathered to watch as the blindingly bright star was positioned just right. A toast and Christmas began.
But what truly made Christmas feel real, was up the staircases and into the den. A magnificent brick fireplace sparked to life in that room, shadows of red and orange spilled out of the room in the dark of night, welcoming every worn soul who wandered in. Just above the fireplace were seventeen stockings, all traditional red with gold embroidery spelling each name in swirly cursive. From Thomas and Martha all the way down to Alfred the Cat, each stocking was hung with care. 
“It’s a lot more uniform then I thought it’d be,” Damian heard you comment from below him. He hummed in response from atop the ladder, feeling the plush fabric of the stocking under his fingertips as he hung each one. 
“These stockings are purely for publicity’s sake, they aren’t our real ones.” 
“They aren’t?” He reached for another brick hanger from your hand. 
He lodged the metal onto the next brick over. “No, this is to keep nosy reporters happy.” 
You snorted, he caught the edge of your smile when he turned around slightly to grab the next stocking, a smaller one that read “Titus”. He turned around to refocus. “Where are your real ones then?” 
“In the cave,” he said simply, feeling as though it was absolutely normal for a family to have a separate set of stockings hidden underground. All personalized and barely matching, ranging from traditional red to eggplant purple to knitted white, they were home, all seventeen of them. With what started as Bruce and Alfred’s old stockings from Bruce’s childhood, slowly gained more traction as Dick entered the scene. 
They couldn’t find a matching stocking, as the ones from before were old, worn, and used, so Dick found the closest he could: red with simple white embellishments. It couldn’t dream of matching the embroidered names on the older stockings, or the ribbon that tied around them, but it was his, he had a home. Then came Jason’s plaid, hung always, even when it was  empty some years later. 
Then Barbara’s fancy stocking, with plaid sections and embroidered designs. Tim’s knitted white and Steph’s vibrant purple followed soon after. That was the year Tim found the Mr. & Mrs. Wayne stockings that matched Bruce and Alfreds, the same color and swirly cursive. 
Three stockings were empty that year. 
Then Damian’s own velvet green, a dark emerald. That year came the four small stockings, plaid with the pet names written in Damian’s handwriting. Cass chose a midnight black, the stars of Gotham caught in the fabric with glittered thread. Duke who followed shortly after, with his white and filled with gold embellishments. And Selina, who flickered in and out before solidifying her place in the family with her own cozy stocking, cat and all. 
They were clunky at best. Each year a new stocking was hung aside the rest but they all remained in age order on the cave walls. Some, for the members who picked them out at stuck young ages, had childish handwriting on its top. Others had stockings that matched their homes while for others, this was their first stocking ever. 
Barely the same height or size, they looked slightly off, but they were always endearing. 
It was a slice of normal in the chaos of this family, yet even the normal had the same cozy feeling of mayhem. 
Even now, with the manor bustling with activity, it just seemed normal to Damian, the chaos of the holidays was something he’d grown used to. There was so much decorating to be done this week as the Wayne’s prepared for the biggest event of the year. All hands on deck as all of you scrambled around the manor to decorate every inch of the place. 
Poor Alfred couldn’t decorate the entire place alone (as much as he wanted to), instead, he focused his efforts on creating the delicious dishes that would be catered at the event. Jason was more than happy to trade pie recipes while keeping Roy from raiding the pantry and Kori far from the oven. Wrapping paper was strewn across the floor of the Great Hall as the trio of Cass, Barbara, and Steph wrapped empty boxes to place under the tree, for a grand tree would look pitiful without its vibrant gifts underneath. The room was a mess and tape was caught on everyone’s feet, but the laughter filled the air.
Bruce and Selina were off hanging mistletoe and wreaths while Tim and his friends were up on the rooftop hanging lights—you didn’t know why that chaotic bundle of friends was allowed up there but you trusted the indestructibility of the Core Four helped. Dick and Wally were out on the lawn figuring out the tangled mess of lawn displays, and by that, you knew Dick was doing most of the work while Wally kept commenting about how much faster he could make this go. (“No powers outside the cave, KF.”) Somehow Duke ended up helping after that tangled mess got the two stuck together.
So here Damian was, with you, tasked with putting up the numerous fake trees in the main rooms of the manor only to get sidetracked when you found the gorgeous red stockings. 
“Have you put the other stockings up yet?” you asked him. You held the ladder in place as Damian leaned over slightly to reach for the last stocking placement. 
“Not yet,” Damian spoke, “I imagine they’ll be put up later tonight now that everyone is here.” 
With the stocking box now empty, he climbed down from the ladder and collapsed it swiftly. He caught your eye when you picked up the empty box. “It sounds like fun. Do you have a tree down there, too?” 
Damian took note of your smile, watching the fire light dance in your eyes. He blamed the warmth for why his hands felt so fidgety against the metal of the ladder. He turned away to put the ladder off to the side, diverting his attention to the unopened boxes. 
“We do. It's abysmal, I don’t think a single tree should hold so many ornaments, especially when those ornaments are outdated. Father doesn’t admit it, but he is getting nauseatingly sentimental.” He heard you break down the box from behind him as he opened the long one that held the tree for this room. 
“I think you just don’t want to see your old middle school photos printed onto ornaments,” you teased. You remembered the photos Dick showed you the second he found out Damian brought a friend over, far too happy for this kind of information. “You looked very adorable with your ruffled hair and scowl.” 
“It was not supposed to be ruffled,” Damian retorted, “and I was scowling because I spent all morning perfecting my hair only for some imbecile to ruin it.”
Your laugh cut through his defense with ease, his shoulders relaxed slightly from their defensive position. “You say that, but you scowl all the time, Dames, even right now.” You poked his cheek with the butt-end of a box cutter. 
He slapped it away and scowled even harder to spite you. Instead, you laughed, with crinkles around your eyes and vibrant fractals dancing across your pupils—he couldn’t keep the scowl on any longer, though he tried.
You both unpacked the parts of the tree and set to building it one section at a time. Damian paused when he held two branches. 
“You’re building it wrong,” he noted. 
Your head popped out from behind the tree, surrounded by tiny pieces of green plastic. “No I’m not.” 
“Yes you are.” He held up the uneven lengths of green PVC. “This one is longer than the center part you already connected, this,” he lifted the section of tree in his hand for emphasis, “is supposed to go on first, then that one.” 
Your eyebrows scrunched slightly and Damian hated how he noticed the tip of your nose moving in tandem. You cimbled out from inbetween the corner of the room and the tree to look at it from his perspective. 
“Huh,” you said. He could hear the stumped consonants in your voice that made your confusion obvious. “You’re right.” 
“Of course I’m right.” 
You bumped his shoulder hard. “Arrogant ass.”
Damian bit back a snort. 
Four sections of spiky plastic and a million branches to unbend, Damian’s hands felt a million prickles in them. A sharp jab as opposed to the heat that radiated from the crackling fireplace beside him. 
“Should we put tinsel on this tree like the one in the drawing room? Or focus on ornaments like the one we did in the dining hall?” 
Damian turned around to see you holding up a silver garland of tinsel in one hand and a tube filled with colored ornaments in the other. His eyes flickered between them both but couldn't help the apathy he felt towards either option. 
“You choose,” he settled on, the same answer he gave when you asked this question every other time you set up a tree. 
You huffed, “You’re no help.” 
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He busied his hands with the cord connected to the tree and its matching remote. 
“You would end up choosing the one you preferred either way, it’s much simpler to let you choose from the start.” Plastic poked the sides of his body as he leaned through the branches to plug in the tree. 
“I would not!” you scoffed, “I respect your decisions so long as you make the obviously correct one.”
Damian rolled his eyes, knowing that you could tell by his lack of response. When he leaned back out, he saw you had picked the tinsel. He looked at you with a bored expression. “You chose tinsel?” 
“Yes?” you responded, as if you were offended he doubted you. You matched his judgment with your own easily. “I want to try the falling tinsel look.” 
“Falling tinsel,” Damian repeated back slowly, not quite understanding your artistic vision. 
You hummed, sure of yourself as you made your way to the tree. “Like this.” You plucked a few strands of tinsel from the garland and draped them over a single branch to make it look like the tinsel was similar to that of falling icicles.
The tinsel shifted as you shoved the garland towards him. “You try.” 
“You want me to dismember the tinsel.”
“Don't be so morbid.” He watched you smile despite the roll to your eyes. “It’s not like the tinsel is sentient.” 
“I suppose not.” Damian ripped a few strands off himself, feeling the aluminum coating soothe the earlier pricks on his hands. Together, you draped silver across as many branches as you could see, even the ones at the back of the tree despite Damian’s protests. 
“You can’t even see it.” 
“So?”
He let you work, holding the garland for you to reach as you squeezed behind the tree. Eventually, you stepped out as Damian picked up the tinsel that lined the floor. “I think it needs some ornaments,” you said softly, no doubt speaking to yourself.
Damian peered upwards at the tree and hummed in agreement. Soon enough, every other branch held up a sleek round ornament that shifted in the firelight, reflecting the soft glow of the room. 
“Turn on the lights, Dames. I wanna see how it looks.” 
He clicked the remote on and the tree bursted to life. Small bulbs of color illuminated the entire room with vibrant hues of Christmas. It was no doubt the best tree you’d done today, perfectly timed for it was also your last. 
“It’s beautiful,” your voice was soft and full of wonder. 
Damian’s eyes followed yours around the tree, remembering each tinsel that your hands placed so carefully and each ornament you debated placements for. He could see you in the creation of something so beautiful, purely because you had made it. 
His eyes jumped to the top. “It’s not quite done yet.” 
Your eyebrows scrunched in thought, it was a flicker of a movement before it smoothed out, but Damian saw it just in time before it slipped into obscurity. Slowly, a smile crept onto your lips. “The star! I almost forgot.” 
The giddy and excitement in your voice was enough to rub off on Damian. His heart felt a flutter as his body filled with coziness. He watched from beside the tree as you dug for the topper from the boxes. 
“Here it is,” you said, holding up the gold encrusted decoration, sparkles and diamonds covering the entire surface of the lavish item. “Put it up there,” you handed the star out to him. 
Damian shook his head slightly. “You should do the honors.” 
You gave him a deadpan look. “Do you honestly think I could reach that high? You do it.” 
And ruin the moment between you and your creation? “I’d rather not,” he said. “I’ll lift you.” 
A soft snort escaped you. “There’s a ladder that’ll work just fine.” 
“I already put it away. Just come on, unless you’re a coward?” Damian challenged, his arms stretched towards you that left very little room for you to argue. You shook your head, not surprised in the slightest. You slowly walked towards him with the topper secure in your hands.
Damian felt his heartbeat ring in his ears as his arms wrapped around your upper thighs. It only got louder as you balanced yourself with your hand on his shoulder, a whirlwind of annoying butterflies pattered against his lungs and chest. He looked up, breathless, as you reached for the top of the tree, much easier now that you could reach. 
From here, he saw the stars in your eyes as the vibrant lights reflected onto your skin in small bursts of green, red, and yellow. Your smile was nearly as bright as the room around you both, with its fire and lights, Damian swore he could see the brightest star of all trapped in your happiness. The tree was no longer beautiful simply because you created it, it was a reflection of the beauty he saw in its creator. 
And all at once, the world stopped. 
Oh. 
Oh.
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Taglist ♡
@anothertimdrakestan
@cherry-dropp
@missredrobin
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sillylotrpolls · 7 months
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(Notes on names and translations below poll. Click the read-more link to see, for example, why "star", "noble", and "silver" were used in options.)
I can't be the only person who thinks "Elf-man" is a terrible name, right? Like, I get it Elrond, your family tree is a giant mess and you're like half elf, three-eighths man, and one-eighth demigod, and everyone you know love naming their kids with the same first letters as their own name (thanks for that, Tolkien, I just love trying to keep all those Fi- names in the Silm straight), but maybe you could have broken with tradition and given your boys slightly nicer names? It's not like it's Latin, either, where most people have forgotten what the words actually mean; this is your everyday language here.
At least Elrond and Celebrían wised up by the time Arwen came along, though "Noble Maiden" still isn't very creative. I think Elves just might have something to learn from Mormons in this case.
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Pictured: definitely not Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien.
Anyway, translations for Elrond's family's names and where I got the names for the poll choices after the cut:
Elladan and Elrohir (Elrond's twin sons)
The name Elladan is Sindarin for "Elf-Man" or "Elf-Dúnadan," referring to his dual descent from both Elves and Edain (a name given to those descending from the three houses of Men from Beleriand).[15] It comes from the words el ("elf or star") and adan, singular of Edain.[16] On the other hand, Elrohir means "Elf-knight", but rochir also means "horse-lord".
Elrond (Elrond)
Elrond is a Sindarin name that means "Star-dome" or "Elf of the cave", from el ("Elf" or "star", interchangeably) and rond ("cave, vault").[17][18][19]
Celebrían (Elrond's wife)
The name Celebrían means "Silver queen"[6], from the Sindarin words celeb ("silver") and rían ("queen").[7]
Arwen (Elrond's daughter)
The name Arwen means "Noble maiden", from Sindarin ar(a) ("royal, noble") and wen ("maiden"). Her epessë Undómiel means "Evenstar", from the Quenya Undómë ("evening twilight") and el ("star").
Elros (Elrond's twin brother who chose to be mortal and founded Middle-earth Atlantis and was, for the record, much better at naming children than his brother)
Elros was a Sindarin word that meant "Elf of the spray", from el ("elf" or "star", interchangeably) and ross ("foam, spray").[8][9] The name came from the Quenya word Elerossë.[10]
And while we're all here, epessë:
The epessë or the "after-name" is the third type. The after-name is given later in life, but not necessarily by their kin, as a title of admiration. In some circumstances, the epessë is chosen by the Elf himself or herself. An Elf could be referred to by any of the three, but the epessë typically took preference.
Galadriel is the Sindarin translation of Alatáriel, the latter being the Telerin epessë originally given to her by Celeborn. Galadriel means "Maiden Crowned by a Radiant Garland". The name itself is an epessë: her father-name is Artanis (noble woman) and her mother-name is Nerwen (man-maiden).
The poll choices were created using this Lord of the Rings Elf name generator. I tried to make sure I picked the Sindarin options, in keeping with Elrond's family's clear preference. I primarily used the "meaning" option, but you could also specify "starts with 'el'", "male", and "Sindarin elvish names" to turn up a list of names like Elunaer ("Light blue bridegroom") or Elanorchanar ("Star sun flower brother").
Although the generator has obvious limitations due to the nature of Tolkien's conlangs, it's a lot of fun to play with. Just be careful or you'll next find yourself on the Parf Edhellen (Elvish dictionary) and from there it's just a hop skip and a jump until you're in a discord chat trying to figure out how to properly conjugate "knitting" or something.
Finally, just because I have always loved this paragraph, a quote from Bigger Things by Blossomwitch on Ao3:
Most people had trouble telling the twin sons of Lord Elrond apart. Gimli did not share this problem. True, they were very similar physically, but to Gimli the difference was plain. The one hanging all over Legolas like the Mirkwood Prince somehow belonged to him was Elladan; the one with enough sense to keep his paws off other people's elves was Elrohir. Simple enough.
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discount-shades · 10 months
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Dead or Alive Chapter 1
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Chapter 1: Chicken Run
A/N: I think I am going to give gold stars out to the people who get the references to other westerns in this series. 
Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader 
Warning: Western themed violence. Law inaccuracies.
Word Count: 2000 ish
Summary: We meet the reader. 
Previous     Masterlist     Next  
“You have been found guilty by a jury of your peers and I sentence you to be hung by the neck until you are dead.” You flinch at the crack of the gavel as the judge bangs it down on the teacher’s desk in front of him. There is no courthouse in Pine Creek, just a schoolhouse, a church, and a saloon. 
The judge decided that it would be an affront to God to hold the trial in a church and refused to set foot in the saloon so here you sat, squeezed into a child’s desk off to the side of the little one room schoolhouse. A jury of your ‘peers’ gathered off to the side had declared you guilty of horse theft. All of them were men, and all of the had refused to believe that you only stole the horse to escape a boss that was going to rape you. 
It didn't help that your previous employer owned the Hanging Dog Ranch. Half the town worked for him and the other half depended on his business. There was no way you would get a fair trial in this town. 
When the railroad had bypassed the town to go south, Pine Creek had started to fade with only a stagecoach connecting it to the outside world. The only thing keeping it from becoming a ghost town was the Hanging Dog Ranch. 
One of the deputies grabbed you by the upper arm and began to drag you out. In the doorway you passed Pete and Bradley being marched in. The second trial of the day. They had been a part of the bank robbery that happened the day after you were arrested. You remember hearing the sound of gunshots from your cell. All of the Hanging Dog Ranch’s payroll had been stolen by the rest of the gang but two of the robbers had been caught.
They would be getting the same fate as you. The gallows in town had already been built, three nooses hanging above one long trapdoor. The newly sawn boards bright against the weathered store fronts outside the Pine Creek Sheriffs’ Office. 
The men had been sharing the cell next to yours for the past few weeks waiting for the judge to finally make his way to town. As far as robbers went they were a decent sort. You had been on the wrong side of the law, and morality for years, and you could tell the difference between good and bad men regardless of the law. Your parents died from consumption when you were young, leaving you to fend for yourself. The world isn’t kind to pretty girls with no one to look out for them. 
But you survived. You had done what you needed to do to get by. You had thought that working as a cook’s helper and general maid in the big house on a prosperous ranch would be your chance to leave your past behind and get on the right side of the law. How wrong you were. 
The deputy puts you back in your cell. The only concession for you being a woman was a sheet that could be hung for privacy if you needed to use the bucket in the corner. You sit on the wooden shelf that served as a bed. When the deputy left you pull your knees up and muffle the sobs into your skirt. You were alone in the jail and so you finally allowed yourself to cry. The small part of you had been holding out hope that you would be found innocent had flitted away when you had seen the freshly built gallows on the way to the makeshift courthouse. 
At the sound of footsteps on the boardwalk out front you dry your tears and take a deep breath as the numbness sets in. You were going to die. Well you were always going to die, everyone does, but your fate had become very immediate. The footsteps fade as the person making them carries on.
It doesn’t take more than ten minutes for the sheriff and deputies to bring in the other two men who would be joining you tomorrow. Ten minutes to sentence two men to death. Their faces are grim as you meet their eyes. “You too?” you ask and they nod. 
“It was nice knowing you.” Bradley says with a ghost of a smile. “I wish it was under better circumstances.” You let out a little laugh nodding before the sheriff snaps at you to be quiet. The night guard usually allowed you to talk but when the sheriff was in the jailhouse he demanded silence. You lay back on the bed and drift into an uneasy sleep.
You awake when darkness falls. The night guard brings you all some food and you eat quietly. Bland stew from the boarding house, it’s not much of a last supper. You eat mechanically. More so for something to do than for any real hunger. The meals the past few weeks had been more regular than any time in your life. Even working at the big house you had only been fed twice a day. Here you were guaranteed three solid meals a day until your execution. 
You set your empty bowl on the gap in the bars for the deputy to collect and return to your bed. You talk with Pete and Bradley quietly all night. Telling stories from your lives, all of the coulda, shoulda, wouldas. With dawn comes the return of the sheriff and breakfast. Lukewarm porridge, but unlike every other morning there is a dollop of brown sugar on top. 
The churning in your gut makes it impossible to eat. If it had been the same as every day before you are sure you could have forced it down but the added sweetener makes your stomach clench. Another signal that your time on this earth is limited. The hanging is set for 10:00AM. This is your last meal and you can't even eat it. You quietly set the still full bowl on the ledge and return to your bed.
As it draws closer to 10:00 you can hear the crowd gathering. The sky that you can see through the bars of your cell window is blue and cloudless. More than a few voices carry through the window. “It’s a great day for a hanging,” a faceless voice calls out. Any day is a good day for hanging if you are not the one being hung you think bitterly.
At quarter to 10:00 you are ordered to put your hands through the slot they pass the food through and one of the deputies firmly ties your wrists together while another ties Pete and Bradley’s in turn. 
Ten minutes left. The deputies lead Pete and Bradley out first with you following meekly behind. You walk through town to the jeers of the crowd. Many lost money when the bank was robbed and a woman hanging is uncommon enough that people were willing to travel to see it. It was one of the reasons the judge insisted the sentence be carried out so soon. He didn’t want a huge audience. 
Stumbling on the steps you stoop to hold up your dress with your tied hands as you ascend the gallows to stand behind the last noose in the row. The rope is coarse and brown and you can’t help but think of how it will feel around your neck. You tune out the voice reading the charges against the three of you, barely registering when they say your name. Your eyes fixed on the rope as it twists and moves gently in the faint breeze. Would your body move the same way?
You don’t notice the steady rumble of hundreds of hoofbeats until the screams begin. You glance away from the rope to see hundreds of shorthorns stampeding through town. Gunfire draws your eyes from the cattle to the people on horseback, their faces covered by bandanas. The sharp scent of gunsmoke fills the air as they fire causing the cattle to scatter, the whites of their eyes showing as they bawl in fright. The Hanging Dog Ranch brand on the right rib of every animal. 
A man on a black horse leading two riderless horses slows as he leads them past the gallows. Pete and Bradley dash for the horses, fighting off the deputies as they run to jump on the riderless horses. No one is watching you, so without thinking you follow. You throw your bound hands over the head of the man on the black horse, knocking his hat off in the process and revealing a head of blond hair. 
“What the hell?” You hear him curse as he tries to throw you off. Clutching the fabric of his shirt, you feel your nails digging into the flesh beneath. 
“If you throw me off I’m taking you with me!” You yell in his ear as he curses, struggling to keep his balance with you hanging off his neck. Scooting forward, you flatten yourself to his back. He curses again and threads one arm through yours so one of your arms is over his shoulder and the other is curled under his arm. Now if one of you fell, it was inevitable that the other would fall as well.  His heart is pounding against the palm you have pressed to his chest. 
Bradley and Pete are now on their horses and all the riders whoop and begin firing at the deputies as they follow the herd, galloping out of town. 
“They are going to form a posse and follow us!” You yell in his ear glancing back at the town of Pine Creek.
“They’ll have a hard time without their horses.” The man in front of you shouts back and motions to the open doors of the livery stable and the horses you see galloping free from the burning building. The townspeople are frantically running to put out the flames. In a town where everything was wooden and connected by wooden boardwalks, fire spread fast. 
A few miles out of town the riders slow at a crossroads. Your body is already aching from the quick getaway. “So did the nooses bring back any memories, Hangman?” Bradley asks and you can feel the muscles of the man in front of you tense. 
“Remind me why I saved you again, Rooster?” He growls while pulling out a knife and sawing at your bindings. 
“New friend there, Hangman?” The voice of a woman startles you and the smallest rider pulls down her bandana to reveal her face, everyone else following suit. “Can’t even save people from the noose without trying to find a girl.”
“It was a hitch in the plan.” With a final tug you feel the bindings give way. “Now get off.” He reaches around to pull you from the saddle.
“Wait, you can’t just leave her here!” Bradley exclaims as you clutch the shirt of the man in front of you. “They’ll find her for sure.”
“Not my problem.” The man in front of you grumbles and he resumes tugging on your arm.
“Hold up Hangman,” Pete says in a calming voice. “We’ve got to take her with us. She was going to be hung beside us, she’s good people.” You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Being declared ’good people’ because you were in a cell next to someone was a first. 
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Who’s she going to ride with?” Everyone looks around uncomfortably. 
“Well she is already on your horse,” the woman says with a grin. “Come on, everybody split up. We’ll meet at the Hard Deck, she better be with you, Hangman. ” She spurs her horse and gallops away, everyone else following her lead and scattering in different directions. 
The man on the black horse doesn’t move. You tentatively introduce yourself and he doesn’t respond leaving you wishing you could have rode with Bradley or Pete. After a long silence he finally gathers his reins. “Sugar, you owe me a hat.” With that he gives his horse a nudge and takes off down the narrow trail that leads into the mountains. 
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estelofrivendell · 9 months
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Saviour (Boromir x Female Reader)
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A/N: This was a really cute request by Anon that I got distracted with it and added stuff that probably doesn’t matter. Hope you enjoy <3
Fearless, valiant and nurturing. Those were the three words you would use to describe Boromir. At first, you believed him to be self-centered and he did not have the brightest suggestions at the council, but he proved to be a good man with a heart of gold when he volunteered to help Frodo.
He was a protector through and through, his love for his country and his people runs deep in his veins. You can see the pride in his eyes every time he talks about them but he never fully concealed his sadness. He was slowly losing hope in everything that you felt sorry for him.
Taking the night watch, you took a quick glance at everyone and made sure they were all sleeping. None of them were truly at peace even in their sleep. You looked over the mountains and watched the stars, captivated by their beauty that you almost forgot what your main purpose was.
At that moment, a twig broke nearby, making you look back at the Fellowship to see if it was any of them. Worry overtook you when none of them were awake. It was not right to wake any of them when it could well have been you daydreaming.
Hopping off the rock to investigate, you made sure to be careful to not wake any of them up. The farther you went, the more you regretted going off and you had a gut feeling that something was wrong. You looked over your shoulder repeatedly only to see nothing yet you continued to hear more sounds of faint footsteps and leaves cracking.
Tense, you swallowed up your pride and made your way back, your grip on your sword loosening up a bit. Turning around, you immediately came face to face with a growling orc that was in the middle of swinging its ax.
So this is how it all ends for me, you thought. An orc cuts my head off and by noon my friends will have forgotten about me.
It all happened so fast that you never had time to properly process anything aside from that, you didn’t even remember screaming. The next thing you knew, you fell backwards and were now on the ground, your head and body were still one. Funnily enough, it was the orc who lost its head instead of you. As his severed head and body fell to the ground, you met eye contact with Boromir, who had an ax stained with orc blood in his hold. 
He dropped the ax and it clattered against the rock as he knelt across you, holding your face. “Are you hurt?”
You shook your head, trembling in his hold and he pulled you closer. “No, I’m not, I’m fine.” Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you for saving me.”
Boromir pulled you up to your feet and started taking you to where everyone else was. You noticed how sleepy and exhausted he was. “Never do that ever again. I will always be here to protect you, but you can’t count on that all the time. From now on, you’re not taking watch alone.”
That night, you slept in his arms, only because you asked him to. No one made you feel safer than Boromir did. 
-
The second time he saved you was in the Mines of Moria. Those bloody archers almost got a hit at every single one of you but you took comfort in Aragorn and Legolas having immense skill with a bow. The cave troll almost stepped on Sam until you, Boromir and Aragorn held on the chains tight and pulled it back as far as you can to give Sam enough time to escape. Boromir glanced down at his arms to see the chains somehow wrapped around himself and before he could make any action, the cave troll swung him across the wall.
Gathering the strength he had to get up and his head throbbed. All he could hear were painful ringing noises and could barely make out what was going on in front of him. Everything was blurry.
Until Legolas shouted, “Look out!”
Believing it referred to himself, he crept sideways, narrowly missing the orc about to stab him with its sword. The orc suddenly grunted and he noticed a dagger sticking out its head before the orc fell and he was greeted by Aragorn nodding at him.
Turns out, Legolas meant you and not him, only noticing the troll holding an enormous spear, seconds ready from impaling you with it. Without any thought, Boromir ran for it and the next thing he knew, he was lying face down on the floor with you beside him, his head still throbbing but his senses were slowly recovering. Lifting himself off the ground, staggering while trying to keep his balance, he found Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf and Aragorn fighting the troll to distract it from the hobbits who were doing their best to avoid it.
“Are you all right?” Boromir asked you, wiping off the dirt and blood off his face.
You stared at him, astonished. “Forget about me, Boromir, I would ask you the same thing!”
His head throbbed again as he waved his hand dismissively.
-
Everyone needed a long night or two of sleep in Lothlórien. Boromir especially, his concussion did not go unnoticed to the remaining Fellowship and partially explained why he acted so sullen. The elves offered to give him medicine and he refused, stating that it would all go away by simply sleeping it off, only giving in when the elves would not stop insisting and Aragorn made him give in.
The Elves were kind and responsive. Some of them could not speak the Common Tongue, but all that mattered was that the Lady and the Lord themselves were able to speak it plus Haldir. Aragorn and Legolas could translate if that was the last resort. 
Boromir was a good man and you would die defending that basis but he had the tendency to act strange at times. Whether the lingering thought of the Ring was bothering him or someone in the Fellowship was, you honestly couldn’t tell. Despite that, he was more than willing to talk to you even if he was grumpy.
“I had a peculiar dream the other night,” said Boromir. “More peculiar than the dream that brought me to Rivendell.”
“What was it about?”
“I saw a forest. Large and beautiful, yes, but eerie. There were broken statues of elf maidens and great lords of history. I was someone, but I don’t know who, if I was myself or someone else. There were laughs and screams echoing and I tried to look for the source. I thought someone was being attacked and needed help, but I found nothing and everything would become more faint the closer I thought I was getting.”
You sat there, deep in thought. “Do you believe it is more than a dream? I dream of scenarios more bizarre and nothing comes out of it.”
“You’re not understanding me,” said Boromir impatiently. “I think those elven herbs made me… loopy, but it’s trying to tell me something. A warning.”
You were sure he was not in his right mind and you left him to his own thoughts. The effects wore off just in time, right before departing Lothlórien. He made no reference to the dream but you were positive he thought about it all the time. Galadriel noticed and she pulled him aside for a private talk in an attempt to lift his spirits.
It didn’t work.
-
He knew Galadriel meant well but his mind was too troubled to care. Mentioning you was what soured it. He still remembered what he told you; that you can’t always count on him to save you. That’s assuming he lives long enough.
According to her, you were indebted to him and you were planning to return the favour. He would also show his worth at the fullest but whether he obtains his heart’s deepest desire or not is to be determined.
“It does not depend on you, but on the one you love most,” she told him at last.
All he ever wanted was a Gondor free from threats, his father as the stern but honorable man he knew and his brother happy without being shamed by their father. And despite your foolishness matching Pippin’s, he cared about you more than he thought he would. He wanted you.
Why can’t he have both? Why should he choose between seeing his people safe or a fulfilled life with you when he can have both?
The Eye of Sauron watched his city for as long as he could remember and he’s reached a point where the Fellowship’s efforts were all in vain and fruitless in his view.
Men have gained victory from fighting fire with fire. Boromir does not see why it cannot happen again to end Sauron.
He made a decision.
-
A decision he would come to regret as soon as he carried it out.
Merry and Pippin stood behind him on his command, fearful but determined to assist him. He would prefer them to leave him and run as far away as they can and find a safe place to hide in. He would buy them some time if he could, but they refused to leave him.
There had to be at least six dozen orcs charging at them. Those orcs were unfamiliarly large and much more dangerous, he reckoned the biggest of them were as tall as him and Aragorn. So far, he has hacked them off but not without difficulty and sooner or later he’ll have a sword through his chest. 
Was this what Galadriel meant when she told him he was going to meet his full worth? He accepted death long before a man should be fully accustomed to it and envisioned himself dying to protect his people. 
He did not ever think that “his people” referred to the little ones, a ranger from the North, a curious elf, a cheeky dwarf and you.
As accurate as Merry and Pippin were with their rock throwing abilities, anxiety occasionally overtook them and these new orcs were strong. One of them dodged the rocks and Boromir was ready to enter death’s arms when he saw it charge at him that he could not counter in time, but it fell sideways suddenly and he saw a dagger in its head. There you stood, running over to them as fast as you can, your sword in your hand.
“You came,” said Boromir as if he did not expect her arrival in the first place. “I’d never thought-”
“Never will I leave a friend in times of crisis,” you said, baffled that he dared to question such an act. “Especially if they helped me many times before.”
A debt repaid, Boromir thought, remembering Galadriel’s words. And how will the second one go?
He would find out very soon when you stepped in to take an arrow meant for him.
-
You took two.
He had never seen you so afraid. He thought you were one of those people that wasn’t capable of being afraid. You reminded him of all the soldiers he watched pass away. Yet you did not show any regret in taking those arrows. The only thing you regretted was the capture of Merry and Pippin.
Tears streamed down his eyes. He blamed himself and his stupidity for your current state, all because he thought taking the Ring was the only way to ensure harmony for his people, his country and his relationship with you. He wanted to laugh bitterly. What relationship? She only saw me as a friend. What was I thinking?
He recalled an older memory with his father when he was a young man. “Life is unfair, my son,” he told him firmly. There was no warmth in his voice. “You never have everything you want. The greatest challenge is choosing which takes precedence.”
If the price he had to pay for his mistakes was his own life, that he understood. You reap what you sow. But your own life despite doing nothing wrong? It was tragic and agonizing, but made too much sense in a horrible world. The world was full of innocent people whose life was cut short and of evil people living life in the fullest way.
“It should’ve been me,” he muttered. “It should’ve- it should’ve-”
Aragorn dropped his sword in shock before running over to you, taking a closer look at the arrows. Boromir did not notice his presence until he spoke.
“She still has a pulse,” Aragorn said. “And she was lucky to be hit where she was. Any higher or lower would be fatal.”
“It should’ve been me,” repeated Boromir, still in disbelief.
“Do not say that!” Aragorn snapped. “Have some hope in you, Boromir! She lives for now. These arrows are unlike anything I have seen and pulling them out is a risk. It is one we must be willing to take to put athelas to her wounds.”
They did find a way to pull the arrows out without killing you but it was not easy. Boromir took deep breaths as he watched Aragorn apply athelas to your wounds and started to wonder how things would have gone if you had just not stepped in the pathway.
He was not sure if it was for better or worse that he lived. Frankly, he did not want to think of it anymore.
-
The first thing you noticed as soon as you woke up was the change in environment. The last thing you remember was a forest in the daytime. Now you were on a hill after dusk. Beside you, Boromir was on the lookout for any orcs. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were nowhere to be found. The sound of you stirring and your hand running through grassfields startled Boromir. Seeing you alive delighted him and you thought about how you never saw Boromir that happy.
“What happened? Where are the others? Why is it just us two?” You placed a hand on your forehead as if that was going to do anything. 
“They’re heading towards Rohan. I stayed back so I can take care of you. I promise you, we will see them again. I sense it is soon now that you are recovering.”
“And Frodo and Sam?”
Boromir recoiled at the mention of Frodo but he maintained his posture. “They left for Mordor on their own. It is up to us to find how we can help them in another way. They cannot do it alone.”
You nodded, not saying anything as you fully agreed. You saw the dressing on your wounds and you moved your arms to see if they were still intact. They were.
“You should not have done that,” said Boromir. “If you had not lived, I- I do not know how I can live with it. I love you, truly.”
“I love you too. We all deserve a second chance, do we not?”
Boromir smiled. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.
“Thank you for your unwavering faith in me.”
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intersectionalpraxis · 5 months
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I blocked an anon who said I was "joking" about Palestinian people's death's by putting "X, formerly known as Twitter" on some of my posts... and I thought about responding directly, but goodness knows the amount of hateful energy sent my way for posting content about Palestine doesn't always have to be returned, so I'm going to simply state it here:
IT'S FOR SCREENREADERS YOU ABLEIST JERK.
One of these days I will just say "X post," but until we all get used to it because Twitter has been called Twitter for over a decade, I'm making my posts as accessible as possible. Whether it's in the ALT tab to make descriptions or brief image or video descriptions for context where I am sourcing my information from (which I do ALL on my own -and no, I'm not asking for a gold star appreciation, I just want to make things more ACCESSIBLE on my blog). Plus, so many journalists reference it EXACTLY like that on their articles about attacks and bombings as well.
I take accountability -that's part of my feminist praxis, but this was a reach, and I'm saying this now just in case someone else tries to harass me in my anons for reasons like this again. But also in case anyone else was genuinely curious about why I write it all out extensively like this.
I put care into every post I make because this is all incredibly important to talk about, and making sure I'm not just throwing words out -and describing it as thoughtfully as I can.
I'll be back to my daily updates and posts soon. I just wanted to talk about this briefly. Thank you to everyone who has been supportive of my content, and with whom has been present with what has been going on and continues to go on in Palestine -we need to keep re-posting, posting, elevating and sharing Palestinian voices and content because there's a GENOCIDE going on, and we need to do everything we can as a global community to stop this.
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