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#non canon prompts
evasive-anon · 3 months
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Jason was having a pretty OK time with the league of assassins, sure getting dunked in a lazarus pit sucked and Bruce turned out to be a scumbag who didn't care about him, but at least he isn't dead. He even liked most of the new skills he was learning there so on the whole being with the league seemed like a pretty good deal to him until Talia woke him up in the middle of the night and left him alone with two child assassins.
Or, a demon twins AU where when Talia realizes her father intends to have her boys fight to the death takes action first by deciding to take all her kids and leave the league. Talia either dies or is separated from them in the initial escape and now Jason just has a bag of supplies and a letter from Talia explaining the plan to get to Gotham. Jason has to get himself and two 7 year olds out of the Himalayas, across a desert, and over 12k miles to Gotham. Only now the league members hunting them down want them dead or worse and Jason isn't too confident that B will accept them given their kill counts.
Featuring:
Good Mom Talia. she loves her kids. Did she teach them to kill? Sure, but that's an important life skill.
Single Teen Mom Jason. He's the oldest and in charge but he also will not answer any questions about The Plan™ given he isn't committed to Talia's but also doesn't have a set alternative. Oscillates between looking forward to just dumping his new little brothers with Bruce so they'll be his problem and thinking of just moving somewhere random in the US and keeping them based entirely on how cute vs annoying they are at that time. Didn't realize how much he relied on Talia to help him with things until she is gone. He's really trying his best but he wasn't all that emotionally stable before this so hang in there.
Angry Smol Dami. He's still drinking the LoS punch and really dislikes that he is now considered a traitor. Can't stand that Jason won't answer any of his very relevant questions. Is actually very scared but will not show it. Misses his mom. Didn't even know he had siblings until his mom yoinked him out of bed that night and brought him to Jason and Danny and started all this. Physically the stronger twin. Thinks Danny is dragging them down in fights and also may blame him a bit because clearly his mother only did all this to spare him.
Danny, reincarnated with limited access to his memories and powers. Has been trying to keep his powers a secret. Talia knew about them but never told anyone but she may have hinted at it in her letter to Jason. Not the strongest physically but very good at stealth and social interactions. Didn't know he had and older brother or twin before Jason woke him up at Talia's instruction that night. Thinks Damian is mean and has faith Jason knows what he's doing even if that is very much untrue.
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crane--here · 2 months
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they're so fuxking scary
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Philza is awake later than usual, tending Tallulah's gardens in her stead. The moon-that-is-maybe-not-a-moon hangs high in the sky, and the various mosses drop spores that catch the light. He weeds, and he digs, and he plants those seeds of hers that will not wait another week.
"Good morning."
The robotic voice catches him from behind.
Philza twists, and turns, and comes face to face with Cucurucho.
"Did you need something?" he asks.
A book, already signed, is thrown at Philza's feet. He picks it up, and reads aloud.
"'/Official task from the Federation. Good morning! The President has been missing for some time, and rescue efforts have failed./' Yeah no shit Cucurucho I've noticed," Philza glares at the bear before he carries on reading. "'/As the island's foremost survival expert, you have been selected to attempt another rescue. You may take any legal item with you, and may take time to prepare. You must leave before sunrise... You must tell nobody. You may not refuse this assignment. There will be no reward./'"
Forever. He's being asked to save Forever, but at the cost of... Well if nothing yet has worked, and he cannot tell anyone where he has gone, the mission does not seem like it will be a success.
"I have to go alone?" he clarifies.
"Yes."
"Do you have more information?"
"Maybe."
"Tell me you stupid bear," his temper snaps a little. "Or do you want this mission to fail?"
There is a book pulled out. Cucurucho writes a little, before handing it over with some sort of key.
"'/Use this on the device at the Nether portal to reopen it. We hope you enjoy the island./' Wait, what does that even mean?"
Cucurucho blows bubbles in his face, before running away.
Philza does not bother chasing it. Instead he clutches the books in his hands. He already has everything on him, except maybe topping up his fire resistance potions. He can go use Forever's alchemy set to do that, but first...
He warps home, emptying his bags of anything he does not need. At the books, however, he pauses, and formulates his own idea.
It's not telling anyone if they just find it, right? If he just so happens to put them in a locked chest, which obviously his family and close friends have access to?
Right?
Eh, Cucurucho will learn to be more specific if Philza's in the wrong. Just because he knows it is against the spirit of the instruction means nothing against the word of it; he places down a security chest, putting the books and some of his more sentimental items inside. The security list he sets to himself, Missa, Chayanne, and Tallulah - obviously - but also Fit, Forever, Cellbit, Etoiles, and Tubbo. Surely one of the group will notice something is up eventually and come looking? Surely if he does not return they will check for clues, and find it?
Philza doesn't want to die, but if he does... He needs people to know that he did not just abandon them.
He's okay with being the sacrifice, if it means getting Forever back, that his friend will be safe. He doesn't mind it, what's a little pain next to what Forever must be experiencing? What's a little death, when a flockmate is likely experiencing it again and again? What's a little more trauma, if with it he saves a friend?
What is being a sacrifice, if it means someone loved gets to go home?
He doesn't tell his flock that.
He knows they wouldn't agree.
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alectoperdita · 6 months
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18 for the put that guy in a situation asks??
From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game
18. Possession/Mind control
content warning: implied non-con at the end
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Jounouchi was quiet. Eerily so.
The only time that Kaiba had seen the deadbeat this silent, this still was when his breathing stopped after Ra struck him. But Jounouchi remained upright, rigid as stone, his eyes wide open but distant and glazed.
The expression reminded Kaiba of another incident, the one at the docks involving chains, bombs, a hostage with a cyanide pill clenched between her teeth, and supposed mind control.
Kaiba shifted, once again becoming aware of the heavy weight within his white-knuckled grip. The Millennium Rod, that was what Yugi called it. It was the very same trinket Malik had carried through the Battle City finals.
All Kaiba knew was it was an eyesore, just like the gaudy piece his rival perpetually wore around his neck. Kaiba wanted nothing to do with it. He would've been content to continue to ignore its existence if it didn't keep turning up among his belongings like a bad penny.
He was anything but amused to open his office drawer and find it sitting inside. He returned it that same evening, threatening Yugi over the unfunny prank. The second time that it turned up inside his briefcase, he walked out five minutes before his next meeting, went down to the Turtle Game Store, and basically chucked the Rod at Yugi's head. And the third time, after appearing on his bedside table after an uneasy night of tossing and turning, Kaiba was ready to commit murder.
Yugi claimed no responsibility for one second, before switching gears and babbling some nonsense about destiny and past lives. And whatever Kaiba might think of Yugi's delusions, he never took his rival for a liar. So Kaiba held onto it, reluctantly, and shoved it deep into a desk drawer to bury it.
At least it stopped actively haunting him afterward.
But his troubles didn't end there. No. More turned up in his office one early morning, as the sun barely peeked over the horizon to herald a new day. Kaiba had been driven from his bed by vague and amorphous dreams he couldn't put a name to, only to discover an intruder rummaging through his things.
"What are you doing here?" growled Kaiba, slamming the door behind him.
Swearing, Jounouchi jumped, swearing as he spun to face him. Of course, he was a shitty thief on top of being a third-rate duelist. Nor should it surprise Kaiba when he bared his teeth without a hint of shame and snarled, "Helping Yugi get back what's his!"
With that bold declaration, he yanked his hand out of Kaiba's drawer and hefted the Millennium Rod into the air.
"You think I want that miserable trinket?" hissed Kaiba. His head pulsed. From a migraine. From sleep deprivation. From a gradually building rage. "I was this close to stapling it to his forehead so it can't leave him like that stupid Puzzle he wears."
Jounouchi's eyes narrowed. "You're lying. Yugi might believe you, but I know better. You stole it!"
Stole—as if Kaiba ever needed to stoop that low. Kaiba wanted nothing more than to be rid of the nuisance—both the Rod and Jounouchi. But he'd be damned if he overlooked Jounouchi's trespassing.
"That's rich. Considering you're the one caught stealing red-handed. I'm calling the police. We'll see who they believe."
He crossed the room in a few long strides. He reached directly for the phone on his desk.
"Stop!" exclaimed Jounouchi.
Perhaps the fear of law enforcement sent him into a blind panic, because he took a swing at Kaiba with the Rod.
Kaiba caught it with his hand. The sharp blades protruding from the specter's head dug into his palm, threatening to break skin. Did Jounouchi know about the blade hidden within the shaft? Was that what he'd try for next?
Pain bloomed in his head and radiated down the arm holding the rounded end of the Rod.
"Let go!" he roared.
The deadbeat dropped it like it was hot coal. "What the hell?"
Kaiba felt it too. Underneath the pain, an electric sensation zipped through him, scorching his nerve endings. It was neither pain nor pleasure.
"Shit, did you do that?" asked Jounouchi. "Can you use—"
"Shut up," ordered Kaiba.
Miraculously, Jounouchi did. His mouth immediately snapped shut with an audible click. He opened his mouth to try again.
Kaiba denied him. "Not another word out of you."
Jounouchi choked while his throat convulsed, trying to spit words without success. His eyes darted wildly, terror growing in their amber depths as they frantically searched Kaiba's face.
Jounouchi didn't fear him. He despised Kaiba. He insulted him. On nauseating occasions, Jounouchi even pitied him. But he had never been afraid of Kaiba.
Until now.
A heady rush shot to Kaiba's hind-brain. Suddenly, he understood why people took drugs.
"Here, I thought nothing would ever stop your yapping," he laughed. "This just proves what you need is a shock collar."
Rage blanketed Jounouchi's face. Since he could no longer express it verbally, he resorted to other means. Somehow, Kaiba already knew his intentions before he moved a single muscle. And he put an end to it just as swiftly with one command.
"Stop."
Stop moving. Stop fighting. Stop defying Kaiba.
Jounouchi froze. His defiance drained like blood from a slaughtered cow. His expression slackened, eyebrows unfurling and lips going loose. His eyes went as blank as his face.
Captivated, Kaiba had stared at him ever since. At first, he wondered if this was the payoff for an extended prank. To trick him into believing the Rod's power and that he could wield it. But as the minutes ticked on, Jounouchi stayed rooted to his spot without an errant twitch of his muscles, breathing slowly but steadily as if in a trance.
Kaiba was so clear-headed. His headache had receded. What remained behind was a deep-rooted instinct, the knowledge to bend Jounouchi's will to his whim.
Speaking out loud wasn't necessary. But it gave him a rush to issue the command verbally. "Down."
Gracefully, Jounouchi dropped to his knees. A pulse of something other than power rushed through Kaiba's veins.
"Look at me," he said as his breath grew ragged.
Jounouchi obediently tilted his face up. He held it at the perfect angle so that the sun's rays streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted his bleached locks, brown eyes, and his full lips.
He was quiet, and the storm raging inside Kaiba's head for the last weeks dissipated too.
Without releasing the Rod, Kaiba cupped Jounouchi's jaw, feeling the faint scruff of a hasty shave job. Jounouchi didn't fight him or try to throw off his touch. But he didn't lean into it either. He was no different than a doll, and dolls didn't react. Kaiba pressed his thumb to the corner of Jounouchi's mouth, squeezing until it parted. Jounouchi's wet tongue grazed against his finger pad, warm but still.
He wanted him to suck. This time, Kaiba didn't have to speak aloud before he felt the answering wet suction. Jounouchi's lips closed tightly around his thumb, his cheeks hollowing as he obeyed.
Docile was an unexpectedly good look on Jounouchi. If nothing else, it was a rarity that few people saw.
Before he knew it, his hand had settled over his fly. His groin throbbed with every hard suck of Jounouchi's mouth. The rhythm was as regular and mechanical as a toy, no stuttering and no mistakes.
It was perfect.
Kaiba could have this and more—his heart's secret desire that not he even wanted to admit to. The forbidden fruit was within his reach. His sins were innumerable. His ledger ran red. So what was one more?
Read other prompt fill ficlets here
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superiorjello · 6 months
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I don't understand all the people in various different fandoms I've seen lately ragging on rarepairs/non-canon pairs because "they don't talk to each other/have no on-screen chemistry" or "you're just putting random people together because they're not dating anyone else"
Folks.
The point of fanfiction is that IT'S NOT CANON, it's you sitting around with your fave action figures and SMASHING THEM TOGETHER
Sometimes that happens to be the most common pairing or something actually canon. But sometimes, that's you taking a square and a circle and putting them together and saying WHAT IF!
Sometimes it's looking at the parts that make up two entirely different people and asking "What would it take for these two to work together?" and the joy of that sort of exploration and discovery is INDESCRIBABLE
FANFIC DOESNT HAVE TO CARE ABOUT CANON
IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT *DID* HAPPEN, IT MATTERS WHAT *COULD* HAPPEN
Thank you and have a nice day
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sollucets · 10 months
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could you maybe write something where akk calls aye his home?
i absolutely can do that, nonny, thank u for asking! have a little bit (1.5k. of course.) of long-distance akkaye :') loosely related to the last prompt but fine to read without it
💜
“Akk, are you sleeping?” 
Aye’s voice is tinny, the noises of a subway station behind him just the right side of too-loud through Akk’s phone speakers to catch his slow-moving attention. His headphones must have slipped out; he doesn’t remember it happening. 
“No,” he answers, like a liar, and pushes himself upright on his dorm bed with some effort.
He’d given up on holding his head up to look at the screen part way through Aye talking about one of the other international students he works with and her hopeless crush on a Thai grad student senior of theirs that Aye is 100% sure is taken, and all of the accompanying drama. “You think P’Win has a partner already.” 
“That’s the last thing you heard?” Aye asks, pouting a little on the tiny screen under his big blue scarf. His cheeks are pink. It’s really, really cute. Someone passes behind him; Akk thinks he hears the edges of a robotic voice making an announcement. “I don’t just think so, I know so, and I was telling you all the evidence.”
“Do you have a conspiracy board for this too, or am I still special?”
Aye says something extremely inappropriate for a public place in response, but he says it in Thai, so he’s probably safe. Akk still opens his mouth to scold him on principle, but he’s caught by a yawn before he can say anything, jaw cracking unpleasantly. 
Aye’s expression melts from put-upon irritation to fondness so quickly it’s impressive. “You don’t have to stay up so late for me,” he says. “Don’t you have class in the morning? At nine, right?” 
“Don’t remind me,” grumbles Akk with a sigh, but he swings his legs over the side of the bed, picks up his phone sans headphones, and heads into the bathroom barefoot. “It’s not really so late. And besides, you’d pout if I went to bed without calling. It’s our day.”
Their day, Thursday specifically, had been the day that worked best with both their busy schedules and the six-hour time difference for most of the first semester of their time apart. They’ve missed only once, during Akk’s midterms, and Aye had texted no less than thirty times that day, all test-taking memes and supportive emojis. Now, though, Aye’s classes combined with his new work in his university's tutoring center run into the London evening; it’s midnight in Chiang Mai. 
Aye says something in response, but whatever it is is drowned out by the noise of a rush of people behind him, all probably getting off of a train. 
“What?” asks Akk, propping his phone against the bathroom mirror and grabbing his toothbrush. 
“If it’s really not that late, then why are you falling asleep while I’m talking, hm? Am I so boring to you?” 
Akk rolls his eyes, squeezing out a little toothpaste, and says, “Maybe I just didn’t want to hear you go on and on about P’Win anymore, hm?” 
As expected, Aye zeroes in on that immediately. “Aww, is my baby jealous?”
Akk sticks his toothbrush in his mouth to avoid answering and weathers the ensuing and expected storm of teasing very bravely, if he does say so himself. He lets the ease of falling into a familiar dynamic soothe the very slight sting, and he listens patiently without showing even a hint of a smile on his face at how pleased Aye looks to have ‘won’ that admission. 
“And he’s almost as handsome as me,” Aye is saying, in his most annoying tone of voice, when suddenly he seems to stutter for a moment, his expression freezing in place on his face. It’s odd enough that Akk makes a questioning noise through his mouthful of toothpaste. 
“Akk…” Aye starts. He looks conflicted now, mouth turning down even as he speaks. “You’re not — really, though, right?”
Akk blinks. Then spits. Then says, “No,” even though it’s not 100% true.
His face must show it, because Aye’s frown droops even further and he says, clearly enunciated, “It’s not like that. You know I’m just—”
“Teasing,” Akk interrupts, having mercy on him. “I know. Aye, no, you’re fine. I don’t actually think you’re serious, or you wouldn't have spent the last half hour explaining why P’Win is absolutely definitely taken anyway.” And you wouldn’t usually worry that I did, Akk thinks, so why?
Usually, if he thinks he’s gone too far, Aye just drapes himself over Akk like a particularly affectionate cat, no matter what he’s doing. He kisses his way back to forgiveness, he brings Akk dinner or looks over his homework or buys him stupid, cute little charms to put on his phone keychain, and Akk always lets him even and especially if he isn’t actually mad, and — he can’t do any of that, six hours and half the world away. Oh. This is that communication thing they’re supposed to be better at by now. 
Aye is still staring at him with giant, horrible pleading eyes, because he doesn’t believe him, and he shouldn’t because Akk is still sort of lying. 
Akk sighs. “I’m jealous of anyone who gets to see you all the time.” He can’t keep looking at Aye, his gaze drifting towards the edge of the bathroom counter. “Just a little. That’s all it is. I’m— glad you have Thai friends, actually. You seemed a bit homesick lately. I think it’s cheering you up.” 
It’s silent for a little too long, and Akk finally looks up to make sure nothing’s happened to the connection and finds Aye with one hand over his mouth, eyes still huge but soft around the edges now. 
“What,” he mumbles. 
“My boyfriend is the sweetest,” Aye says, as he’d feared he would, all earnest and sincere and completely without the teasing edge, which makes it worse. 
Akk jerks his head away again, in a motion he couldn’t control if he wanted to. He puts his toothbrush into the cup with more force than is strictly necessary. “It’s just the truth, isn’t it?” 
“Phi reheated omelets on his break the other day and I thought I was gonna cry for a minute,” Aye tells him, laughing an embarrassed little laugh. “They’re not right here. They’re all undercooked and flavorless.”
“Did you get to have any?” asks Akk, imagining Aye looking (up, statistically) at this mysterious P’Win with his awful begging eyes.
“I wouldn't steal my senior’s lunch.”
Akk can’t help the little satisfied twitch of his mouth at that scandalized tone. Aye steals Akk’s lunch all the time. “Too bad. I get it a little, though. I really miss the way my mom prepares things.” 
Chiang Mai is easily 14 hours of travel from his house, more if you count having to switch trains, and he’s only been back once. He dutifully calls his parents every Sunday, but they don’t really have good enough reception there for regular video calls. 
Aye makes a sympathetic noise, then glances at something up and to the right of the camera. He frowns. “Baby, I have to go soon.” 
“‘Kay,” answers Akk, raising a hand to cover a sudden yawn. 
“Don’t worry about me too much,” Aye says, smiling at the screen all little and v-shaped. “I’m okay. I’ll go to a market and get my own ingredients and make my own omelet, and I’ll text you all the time, and I’ll call my mom twice so she can pretend I’m her favorite over you. Don’t you get too homesick either, okay?”
“Even if—“ Akk starts, hesitates, then forges on. He can say these things; he’s worked to say these things. “Even if I visit,” he tells Aye’s tiny, beloved face, miles and miles away and here in his dorm bathroom, “I’ll still be homesick until you come back. You’re my home.” 
Aye stares at him, mouth open for a minute, then demands, “Pick up your phone.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Pick up your phone.”
Slowly and distrustfully, Akk takes his phone off the counter and holds it closer to his face. “Wha—“
Aye’s screen moves suddenly closer and then goes dark, the sound weird and muffled. “Hug me,” he says, just barely audible. 
Akk laughs a little, breathless and pointlessly fond. What must it look like, to those people in the subway station? Alone in his own room, though, he doesn’t hesitate to pull his phone to his chest, right over his heart. 
After a moment, though, he gives in to the temptation to peek and finds the screen still dark. “Aye.”
The station blurs into view again behind an Aye who looks notably pinker than before, a rush of people just like the last one passing behind again. “You’re so — I love you so much,” Aye tells him, sounding helpless, “and I miss you. It’s stupid that term break is still so far away.”
“Aye,” says Akk again, unable to stop grinning if he’d actively tried. “Don’t be late for your train.”
“They’re always late for me,” grumbles Aye, but he sighs and says, “Go to bed, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you too,” Akk tells him, just before hanging up so he doesn’t have to deal with whatever new heart-squeezing thing Aye’s face is going to do at that. 
Just before he actually gets into bed, quiet in the sudden silence of his empty dorm, his phone lights up with a text: "❤️❤️❤️❤️"
And far away, in a subway car in England, Aye barely represses a little noise of delight to receive “❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️” in return. 
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witchwyfe · 2 years
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could I please request rafe and “nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time”? thank you💖
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(non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader
“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time.”
thanks for requesting!!! 💞
cw: mentions of food and being drunk
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“Babe, listen, like if we—”
“Rafael Cameron, I already said no.” You say, feigning sternness. The only way to deal with your sweet, intoxicated boyfriend right now. 
“But I really want some. And if you get me ice cream, I’ll let you have some.”
“You always let me have some.” You grumble.
“But I’ll let you have more.”
“I have no problem with getting you ice cream baby, I just know the second we get it you’re going to pass out and it’s going to melt.”
You pull out of Kelce’s driveway, watching the movement of the car already lull Rafe a little bit. As you get farther out of his neighborhood, the quieter Rafe is.
“Baby, look at me.” He says once you’re at a stop sign.
“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time, Rafe.” You tell him, leaning over to peck his cheek. “Nice try though.”
He whines dramatically, throwing his head back against the seat. 
And sure enough, when you pull into his driveway ten minutes later, he’s fast asleep. 
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© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
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bkanvas-fairy · 9 months
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当我们长大后,我好想和你一起住在一个家。
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mareenavee · 5 months
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Another Sacrifice
For the prompt: Dragon Priest
A shoutout to @changelingsandothernonsense for these caveats:
Dragon Priest's POV Nyenna is the LDB
For those of you who aren't yet familiar, Nyenna is my OC from my main fic, The World on Our Shoulders. This piece is NON CANON. (:
Hope you like the oddness. It was a fun one!
Tagging @throughtrialbyfire, @dirty-bosmer, @archangelsunited, and @paraparadigm <3 It's another Second Person POV and I know you guys have always really supported my efforts on that front, too and it is so, so appreciated!
without further ado~
Another Sacrifice
It has been centuries—untold eras since you last breathed the air of the crypt you called your final resting place. Your skin, fragile now, stretches across your bones like canvas. You need not breathe, for long ago your insides had putrefied. You are desiccated, and yet more powerful than you have ever been before. You feel the magic pulse between the spaces in your ribs where your heart and lungs used to rest. You exhale dust and ash as you rise from your tomb, awakened by a sound in your head—
“Krii daar joorre.”
So He had returned in the end, as he said he would. As you said you would. His Voice echoes across the tundras and river valleys, through mountains and caverns and into the tombs you’d sequestered yourself in waiting for this promised day when you would be called forth from your slumber. Finally, the time has come to make use of the power you had sacrificed everything for. You are to rule this place as you were always meant to rule—with absolute, unshakeable power, guided only by Alduin’s will.
Only, for a moment, it is as if the Words do not ring. The Voice you’ve been hearing is different from what was expected, its signature sideways in your ears. You open your mouth to try and speak, and find yourself unable to articulate. Your trachea has rotted through, the skin peeling from the effort of opening your jaw. How, then, are you to call to your Lord? How, then, are you to respond?
You look through eyes that are not eyes, and through the veil of magic that sustains you, a figure emerges. You know her, and yet you do not. She speaks your language, and yet does not speak at all. She crouches in the darkness, her spectral bow glimmering in the faint light. She has eliminated the ones whose life force kept you in stasis. She is why you are now awake. Not to kill all mortals—just this one. You are confused for a brief moment as you sift through your memories and try to wrap your head around this breach of etiquette. Only Alduin was supposed to call you forth. You were to rise to greet him and lead his army of thralls, and return this place to the unyielding rule of the Dragon Cult. That had been your purpose. That was the power you had sacrificed everything for.
Anger, or something like it, flashes in what is left of your mind—not so much a mind as a swirling cloud of Necromantic magics housed inside a crumbling skull. This false dragon, whose soul hides itself inside a prison of flesh, had the gall to destroy the reserves of soul-power you had so carefully hand selected, in such ways that they would never rise again. And now? Now she intends to fight you, bow brandished as if her power could hope to be your equal—or your undoing.
A vile cackle leaves what is left of your throat. The girl before you does not cower, does not bend to the enormity of your presence. Your hand grips the cool gold of the staff you carried. A shock of power runs through it and across your body. Your laughter, deep and insidious, does not stop as the magic courses through the pathways that used to be veins, muscle, sinew. You float, no longer bound by the constraints of mortal existence. Your lips, or what remains of them, twist into a sneer. Without effort, you redirect the storm you summoned, aiming for the false dragon, the one without wings, the one without authority. You will end her. That is the only directive you can follow. -> Read the rest on AO3.
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eemoo1o-animoo · 1 year
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Kuroshitcember Prompt List:
(2022 edition)
Kuroshit name, I know. But, I’m making this a thing! Reblog if you’re using it, and feel free to send me the results!
Happy Kurostmas everyone, and other merry tidings.
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Thursday, the 1st of December; — Sebastian delivers a letter to his master.
Friday, the 2nd of December; — Grelle smiles at Will everyday when he comes into work. Why? How does she feel when he ignores her? Does he ignore her? How does he react?
Saturday, the 3rd of December; — Agni stands by his prince in absolute silence. Why? What is he thinking about? How does he feel? How long has he been doing this for?
Sunday, the 4th of December; — Pick a male character and dress them up in drag! Ciel doesn’t count. Why are they in drag? Do they like it? How do people react? Is this a regular occurrence? What happens next?
Monday, the 5th of December; — Fast forward a century or so, and the Grim Reaper Dispatch’s collection system has switched to AI and other complex technologies. How good are the grim reapers at this? How do they feel about it?
Tuesday, the 6th of December; — Caskets and coffins, colds and collectibles. Write something about the Undertaker and his fresh clients of winter deaths!
Wednesday, the 7th of December; — Demons don’t usually sleep. So, how do they dream?
Thursday, the 8th of December; — Pick two characters and swap their species! What does this do? Is demon Will just another version of Claude? Is human Sebastian any different to how he is now?
Friday, the 9th of December; — Listen to Stolas Sings by Sam Haft. What do you think this could represent?
Saturday, the 10th of December; — Paperwork that Will asked for gets handed in late. What happens?
Sunday, the 11th of December; — Finny writes a letter to St. Nicholas. What does he write?
Monday, the 12th of December; — As Christmas draws near, so does the cold, which plays hell with Tanaka’s old bones.
Tuesday, the 13th of December; — Ronald Knox’s wristwatch breaks. One of the other reapers gives him a gift to replace it while it’s in repairs.
Wednesday, the 14th of December; — Ciel’s birthday. What happens? How does he feel?
Thursday, the 15th of December; — A day in the life of a Trancy servant.
Friday, the 16th of December; — Rice cakes. That’s it. That’s the prompt.
Saturday, the 17th of December; — Eric Slingby reminisces about his domestic life with Alan Humphries. What does this entail?
Sunday, the 18th of December; — Listen to Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga. What do you think this could represent?
Monday, the 19th of December; — The Undertaker used to be allied to the Phantomhives. Why was that? How does he feel now that he’s no longer affiliated with them? What was his relationships like with Cloudia and Vincent like, respectively, perhaps in contrast to the one that he now has with Ciel?
Tuesday, the 20th of December; — Grelle Sutcliff and Madame Red are just after meeting. What happens? What do they talk about?
Wednesday, the 21st of December; — Mey-Rin sits down with Bard over a packet of smokes. What do they do? What do they talk about? Is it romantic or completely platonic?
Thursday, the 22nd of December; — “[She/He/They/It] prowl(s) around London with [her/his/their/its] [claws/weapon] dragging along the wet ground, waiting until […].”
Friday, the 23rd of December; — Sebastian thinks about his life before his contract with Ciel.
Saturday, the 24th of December; — Sebastian (and, more optionally, the servants) prepares the manor for the young master for Christmas Day.
Sunday, the 25th of December; — Sebastian bears an awful resemblance to someone held near. Pick a character and let them realise this!
Monday, the 26th of December; — “And then he was all like, ‘I am simply one hell of a butler’. Ugh! I hate that guy.”
Tuesday, the 27th of December; — William T. Spears is just after laughing. Why? How? What has just happened to cause such a cosmical event?
Wednesday, the 28th of December; — “Tanaka looks to Sebastian and Ciel. All he truly sees in front of him is a monster.”
Thursday, the 29th of December; — The Undertaker and [Ciel/Sebastian/one of the reapers] sit down and have a chat during dire times. Why? What do they talk about? Is it an argument? If so, who’s winning?
Friday, the 30th of December; — The Grim Reapers prepare the office for a New Years’ Eve party. Why? What happens?
Saturday, the 31st of December; — Sebastian takes his final bow as the final curtain call nears on Ciel’s life.
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[Image ID: SFW and NSFW is allowed! Sebaciel and the like is not! *Sebaciel shippers DNI!*]
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cityandking · 8 months
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dai/zaref (& ozy) + pacific rim au. 1.7k
He finds Zaref in the command hub, already hooked into comms, eyes half glazed that way he gets when he’s processing the endless stream of incoming information. Scratch sits next to him, chair twisting this way and that as she types away at her tablet, muttering numbers under her breath. Zaref looks almost peaceful by comparison, slight twitch of his mouth the only thing to belie his worry. Daichi stills a moment to watch him, a pillar stood still and solid in the churning mess of the command center. He makes the same picture he always makes, and it gives Daichi pause the way it always does.
Then one of the Jaeger techs brushes past him, close enough to nearly knock shoulders, and he steps into the slipstream of the chaos.
"Hello.” He’s almost on top of him before Zaref looks up, startled by his nearness. The twins are there too, half watching and half playing some kind of finger-count game. He ignores them for the most part, used to their eyes and the air of judgment they exude. Whatever early-days familiarity they have with Zaref, it doesn’t bother him anymore.
Mostly. There are other things to worry about.
“Hello,” Zaref returns. He’s tired these days. They all are, of course, but Zaref particularly.
“You needed me?”
That gets a twitch of amusement, like Zaref appreciates the double meaning. Satisfaction flashes through him in turn; it’s rare he gets his words so right. Scratch spins around in her chair to check something on one of her half dozen monitors, chatting away to Dobin on the other end of her line, paying the exchange no mind.
“Yes,” says Zaref with the same layered understanding, and Daichi hides his smile in the nod of his head. “Scratch, you have the conn.”
“Yep, got it,” she confirms, never once looking up from her screens. She adjusts her headset as Zaref hooks his off, and Daichi ignores the eyes on them as they step out of the command hub altogether. He swallows back his questions. If Zaref’s holding a briefing outside the hub, it must be important.
Or, maybe it’s not the brief itself that’s sensitive. It doesn’t take him long to recognize the route they’re taking, and they’re halfway down the hall when Zaref slows and stops, shoulders braced.
They don’t need to worry about anyone bothering them, not here. Only a select few come to this part of the base.
“Is this— Are we here for you?” Daichi asks. It’s a tender subject, one he isn’t quite graceful enough to dance around. Zaref’s lips thin, almost imperceptible. A no, then.
“A new pilot arrived on the morning flight,” he replies.
Ah. Daichi understands. He lets the sting of not-knowing pass over him. He trusts Zaref to tell him when things are important—like now, paused three quarters of the way to the dojo, deep enough in the base that the chaos and the fear can’t touch them.
The sting of Zaref’s quiet refusal is a harder one to let go, but that regret is old and familiar, and it only aches a little. The hope sticks furious under his breastbone that one day Zaref will trust him beyond the mats of the dojo and the meager privacy of a bunk.
Not that he doesn’t. Not that Daichi doesn’t know he does. He just hopes, is all.
But Zaref doesn’t drift—hasn’t ever, according to his file. Rumor is that’s what washed him out of the ranger program, but Daichi’s always had a sense there’s more to the story.
“Who?” he asks.
“He says his name is Ozymandias.”
“Auspicious.”
“Something like that,” Zaref agrees dryly, mouth tilting up, all wryness and exhaustion and the fraying gallows humor they hang by. “Sunburst’s repairs will be finished soon.”
And Daichi will need a copilot, now that Izzy has relocated to the other side of the Pacific. As with most things regarding Izzy, he does his best to not let himself linger on that.
“Where was his last posting?”
“Sydney.”
Daichi frowns. There hasn’t been an active Jaeger program in Sydney in nearly a decade. Zaref, seeing his confusion, adds, “He came recommended by Kallux.”
His frown deepens. “Private sector?” He tries not to let the disapproval color his voice, but it’s difficult. The private sector causes more problems than just the black market trade of kaiju parts, and not everyone is as forthcoming as Scratch’s friends. “Has he piloted since then?”
“Yes. Scratch can send you the file.”
“And you want him?”
“I don’t think want has anything to do with it,” Zaref returns, mouth pursed. Daichi winces—he certainly hadn’t meant it like that—but Zaref is frowning again, almost hesitant. “He… claims he brings nothing to the drift.”
Daichi eyes Zaref. “Do you believe him?”
Daichi’s heard people say it before. It rarely holds up when the neural link connects. Silence, he’s found, is a rather subjective experience.
“I’d like you to check.” He makes a face, almost apologetic. “I know it hasn’t been long since Izzy left, but—”
“We need pilots.” They’ve had bad luck lately—bad before they lost Marshal Frida and worse after. There’s a reason Scratch is up half the night with Dobin, both of them plugged into their calculations, frowning about shrinking windows between breaches. There’s a reason they’re all so tired.
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
“If it doesn’t work—”
“It’s alright,” Daichi says again. “I wasn’t going to drift with her again either way.”
Zaref’s expression goes pensive as he touches the scar at Daichi’s temple. It doesn’t look nearly as bad now as it had three weeks ago—he’s been patched up by the best they have, same as Sunburst Mantle.
“Maybe one day.”
“Maybe,” he allows, but he doesn’t think Zaref believes it any more than he does. It had been a bad argument to drive her a hemisphere away, and that had been his fault. He still feels bad about it. He knows the others miss her too, particularly Zaref—and not only because it leaves him with one half of a benched Jaeger crew.
Maybe not benched, if Zaref has found him a new copilot. What luck that this Shatterdome just so happens to have an extra ranger on the loose.
“We shouldn’t keep him waiting,” he says, turning to press a kiss against Zaref’s wrist and tug his hand down from where his thumb is sweeping distractingly over the curve of his ear. “If this goes well, maybe you’ll be able to bench the twins.”
“I wish I could bench the twins,” Zaref sighs, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling back, shoulders straightening and expression smoothing, falling back into the role of Chief Officer. It’s a pity—Daichi likes him soft.
When they reach the door at the end of the hall, it’s cracked open. Daichi wonders briefly how far the sound carries. If it had been closed before they stopped to talk.
“Just,” says Zaref on the threshold, a hitch of hesitation. “Don’t force it.”
“Of course not,” Daichi says, wry and lying and obvious. Zaref huffs, unamused and unimpressed and unsurprised, and opens the door.
The dojo is as still as it always is, heavy with a dusty sort of silence despite its pristine condition. A pair of boots sits at the edge of the mat, neatly squared, and in the center of the room is a man. The new ranger. Ozymandias.
A little grandiose as far as names go, but those in the Jaeger program can hardly be accused of humble or sensible naming conventions. And the folly of forgotten kings is perhaps not the worst thing to reference, even if the lone and level sands are a long way from the ocean-bound Jaeger program.
He stands facing away from the door, hands folded behind his back, at ease. He’s a little taller than Daichi, maybe, and he wears his hair long and golden and threaded with grey. There’s a squareness to his stance that speaks to military training. He doesn’t move as the door swing shut behind them.
“Ozymandias?”
“Ozy,” he offers, finally turning around. He has the barest hint of an accent, Mediterranean maybe, flattened by time and travel, and a strange coloring in one eye. Daichi can’t tell if it’s blind or not. He tilts his head, nearly birdlike as he looks between the two of them, and Daichi understands why Zaref might believe it when he claims he brings nothing to the drift: there’s an unsettling blankness in his gaze.
“Daichi,” he bows. “Sunburst Mantle.”
“I know.” He doesn’t offer up an introduction of his own.
Across the room, Zaref catches his eye, a silent question. Daichi shakes his head and bends to unlace his boots. Zaref doesn’t need to stay. In all honesty, Daichi doesn’t think they need the spar. He can already see something familiar in the man, the kind of understanding that lends itself well to a neural link. He isn’t sure he likes it, but the liking doesn’t matter.
Over Ozy’s shoulder, Zaref gives him a lingering look—warning, almost, which is as sweet as it is pointless—and slips out the door. Ozy’s mouth twitches as the latch clicks.
“Method?” Daichi asks.
“Hand-to-hand is fine.” He sinks into an opening stance—Pále, it looks like. Interesting. “If it’s alright with you.”
Daichi settles into position in turn, rolling out his shoulders. “Are you sure you want to return to the Corps after so long?”
Ozy’s mouth twitches again—a smile, sanded down. “I don’t think want has anything to do with it,” he says. “My path led me here. Isn’t that enough.”
“Maybe,” Daichi allows.
He’s right about the spar being unnecessary—as they prove four hours later, when Dobin’s grim prediction proves true and a Cat IV spills out of the breach, sprinting over the Bonin Trench. Later, when they’re back on base, Zaref finds him in a slip of privacy, holds him tight by the shoulders and takes a long, trembling moment to say—
“Well?”
“He’s right,” Daichi says, forehead pressed against the thrum of Zaref’s pulse, the reminder that they’re alive, at least until the next attack. It had been a bad fight—they’re all bad fights, these days—but not nearly as unsettling as the bare desert of Ozymandias, sands unstirred by any breeze of thought or desire. “He brings nothing.”
“Is that alright?”
It is what it is. “We need pilots,” he says.
Want has nothing to do with it.
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rusakkowrites · 10 months
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Event: Non-Canon JAFF Ship Prompt Meme
Link: AO3 collection Description: This is a prompt meme for Jane Austen fanfiction focusing on non-canon ships. Leave a prompt if you'd love to see more fic about your favourite Austen ship that totally should have sailed in canon, or check out other people's prompts and pick up a new plot bunny or three! Dates: Prompting: open until July 31st, 2023 Posting: open until December 31st, 2023 Please see the AO3 collection for more info!
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reid-whump · 11 months
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Would you guys be interested in a oneshot set in an AU where Maeve was killed by her stalker in hospital after giving birth to her and Reid’s kid?
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raayllum · 1 year
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just watched “coraline” because 1) it’s halloween time and 2) one of the best animated films (if not just films) ever made but somehow it only stuck in my head as “wow i love this movie and it’s so fucked up” and not as “ah yes, smart curious and somewhat angsty protagonist must fulfil a game / test of love in order to trick a devious creature that’s all about foresight, using your loved ones against you, and there’s also a mirror”
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wurzelbertzwerg · 7 months
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The poll results are in and why am I not surprised that Thorpe won.
He did and thanks to this little, fun experiment now I know how to write this thing and I'll probably work some more on it because what I've written so far was very enjoyable! (For me, that is) Have a peep under the cut:
WIP: 5 Times John Thorpe failed to date a woman
John Thorpe, at the age of four-and-twenty, was a man with many a good friend. Amiable soul that he was, he could go to no place without meeting with one fine fellow or another. Therefore the friend he had recently lost mattered little to him, especially as that deceitful scoundrel had proved himself to be worth less than the dirt underneath John's boot, a fact he told any companion of his as long as they would listen.
And where James Morland was talked of, sooner or later the sister would be talked of as well. Miss Catherine Morland and her greedy, dishonest ways were often on his mind in those days and just as often was her ill usage of him on his tongue. And ill used he had been!
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How would Alpha!Kreese react to getting Omega!Daniel pregnant? Maybe they have a shitty relationship, or are just fucking, but would Kreese step up and claim Daniel as his mate? I find it hard to believe he would just abandon him. He'd still probably be a real shitty Alpha to him, until he realizes that hey! He actually really likes the Omega for some reason. Would Kreese be excited at having a possible future Alpha?
Maybe Daniel threatens to leave him, pup or not and that brings Kreese to his senses.
Ooh. If it was not a healthy relationship then Daniel wouldn't even entertain the idea of being with Kreese long term.
But maybe Daniel has always wanted kids, and hey. He's looking at this as a gift. Regardless of if he has a reliable alpha.
I think Daniel tells Kreese, more or less to be polite.
"hey. You've got a theoretical kid."
Maybe they're in those stages between strange self destructive fuck buddies and regular fuck buddies? They've started to realize that there are things they genuinely enjoy about each other that they never expected.
But Kreese, even if he doesn't think he cares about Daniel, won't be having a bastard child. He would want any child to be wanted. And Kreese wasn't expecting it. Is shocked. He doesn't know if he can or should do this. But Daniel wants it. And Kreese would be lying if he said it didn't appeal to him.
Maybe, he thinks, they could work out some co-parenting situation?
He would still have a crisis over Daniel being unclaimed though.
I tend to view Kreese as wanting to put a ring on it, but if we come at this from an even less stable position, maybe he would be happy to just have a part in the child's life.
I wonder if Daniel would want his child to know about their other father? I feel like he would feel it was only fair. But also that he would want to protect them from his own complicated past.
I think that Kreese would definitely prefer an alpha child but he would also be okay with having a beta child. It's not that he wouldn't love an omega child, but it would be a large shift to his world view.
Kreese can see that Daniel has the potential to be a good omega mate. Daniel is just stubborn and hard headed. Kreese never expected this, but he's sure he can morph Daniel into a better omega.
Imagine Kreese determined to train Daniel into a proper omega.
There's also the possibility that we could go full angst and Kreese would force a bonding upon Daniel before Daniel was ready. 👀👀
Daniel would be heart broken. But maybe Kreese would make it his mission to woo Daniel's inner omega?
After he claimed him of course.
Daniel would be so upset. He would be furious. Because now he's linked to Kreese in a way he never meant to be and Kreese didn't even ask! The thought of being a stay at home omega popping out kids for John makes him panic.
Daniel isnt even actually fighting him, he's just crying and slapping at him hysterically. John has to hold him to the bed to get him to calm down.
Maybe John really does try in his own way? It's just that his way and Daniel's way don't mesh as well as he had hoped.
Eventually they figure some sort of mostly happy and healthy relationship out, but the first few years are tough.
(I'm thinking possible manipulation tactics like love bombing and limiting Daniel's social circle, etc.)
Tldr: uno reverse card. Omega Daniel who wants to single dad it and Kreese who won't let Daniel go. 👀
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