#who gonna write me the au

[likeprongstostars]

"I thought you said no touching"

"mm yes... but only for you"

#vi's bodyguard brainrot #now who's gonna write me a 200k bodyguard au #marauders era #marauders fanart #regulus black #regulus black fanart #james potter #james potter fanart #jegulus #jegulus fanart #my art

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #sam is one protective gal. this scene went differently in my head. way differently. but alas. i am not complaining. #sam: if bruce wayne abandoned my best friend i'm gonna physically transform myself into a dragon and incinerate him. how dare he. #bruce and damian got to watch in real time as a random girl who knows danny suddenly realizes he's related to them. which is comical to me #because she suddenly goes from being disinterested but weirded out by damian. to suddenly looking at bruce like she's gonna kill him #which is very funny to me bc from their pov at first its like this random girl just speedran hating bruce. and then her parents bring up he #friend danny and then she calls him danyal. and suddenly its starting to click into place like 'oh fuck wait we may just have a lead on -- #-- finding danyal and his whereabouts.' especially after sam's mom mentions the scar on his face. like wow. what a crazy ten minutes. #not seen but def happened: sam gets her phone out to go text danny in the corner. she's not gonna bring up the bruce thing yet. she needs #a pick me up. related note: danny and tucker know she's gone to some gala thing with her parents but not to a wayne gala. if danny had know #he may have told her that he was related to damian wayne. just to prepare her for that. not so sure on the writing in this one folks #but i also dont wanna go through and edit anything its like half past one in the morning and i also dont wanna wait until morning to post #when i can just do it now. and get instant serotonin. i thought of this scene in various ways. like sam calling damian 'danny' out of shock #and then quickly correcting herself. and then excusing herself very quickly. or her mentioning that damian resembles her friend danny a lot #so she was just thrown off by him. because i def think that could happen if sam has no reason to think that she needs to hide danny from th #waynes. i also thought about her parents mentioning that damian resembles danny a little bit. only for one of them to go 'oh no no couldn't #- be. how insulting to damian since the daniel they know has this horrid scar on his face.' and then go from there. either way i thought #a scene like this would be fun. get to also kinda explore how danny looks like from his friends' povs. of which he is #'our lovable jerk who is an ex-cult member and whom we will maim someone over.' #not a scene that was added but i wanted to: sam mentioning in parenthesis that she and tucker think danny was part of a cult prior to the #fentons. and that sometimes danny will say something alarming and sam and tucker will stare at him until he frowns and goes #“that... isn't normal. is it?” and tucker will clap his shoulder and cheerfully go “no buddy. no it isn't” bc i think the idea is funny. #sam is so focused on the idea that bruce abandoned/ignored/was unaware of danny's existence that she momentarily forgot that bruce may have

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Although there's a very specific reason for them to be working at the Pizzaplex, that doesn't stop them from infodumping every once in a while!

Knowing a bunch of random info turns out to be pretty useful when working with curious kids and a 8 foot tall robot who's always more than happy to listen to anything. Besides it makes for great stories to tell

#it makes him specially happy when asking for fun facts gets him a ramble #specifically from someone who is usually the listener #100% one of the historical facts was Caesar getting wrecked #Sun was not too thrilled to hear about that #dca fandom #dca fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #doodles #fnaf sun #oc #y/n #? #every tag on that post gave me 1 more year of life it makes me so happy i swear #@apasteldragonshoard thank you sm for giving me the inspiration for this one im patting you in the head #i was gonna put actual dialogue but nah #also dont look at me idk how to write the dca for dear life #dca au #immortal au

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #arlecchino #lyney #furina #you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic #trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually! #I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew #anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks #also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth #furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road #arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11 #shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay #hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS #ehe :] #is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!! #shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies #anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D #also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty #bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat.. #reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay #they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more #a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)

[aroaceleovaldez]

rough concept doodles for my latest au musings (which will hopefully have a fic. im gonna try.). current title for it is “RETCON”

au premise: the gang becomes self-aware of how messed up their timeline is and seeks out the help of Chronos, primordial god of time, to set things right. The characters working with Chronos get a mark of some kind on them from him, everybody else is out of the loop and having A Time, probably.

the entire thing is ridiculously meta it’s fun.

#pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan #nico di angelo #thalia grace #jason grace #will solace #< not the whole cast but just who i had the most immediate ideas for symbols to doodle #sans Will he's just having a rough time #all the symbols are time/clock-related of course #Percy's is a greek zodiac calendar (centered on leo of course cause thats his zodiac) #Jason's is a sundial on his chest #Thalia's is a clock and Luke's is clock hands #and Nico's is just a clock gear #my art #au #symbols are subject to change but this is mostly just self-reference doodles #and ironing out ideas #im gonna be unable to draw for like two weeks so im prob gonna go ham writing for that time #this au is super fun to me though cause i get to go absolutely wild and funky with it #it makes literally every retcon and inconsistency simultaneously canon which is why the gang has to fix it #which means i get to make the wonkiest timeline ever #which is SUPER fun for me. my analysis brain is going brrr #also yes im sticking Luke in this au for no reason. he's a fun character and this au makes no sense so ergo it makes sense hes here #RETCON au

[m1d-45]

i gobbled and devoured the post imposter things. scrumptious!! but what if poor little xiao man feels guilty for hunting or scarring us in the hunt? and please don’t feel obligated to answer, i know you’re busy

burden to bear

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue archon quest, canon typical violence…. minor body horror? blood mention.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist >

during the hunt itself, xiao is driven by a need to prove himself, pushing past his instinct and the way his karma flares around the one on the throne. he sees it as a way to redeem himself, to finally scrape some of the sin off his hands. it’s a way to prove himself, and one he takes eagerly.

it’s not correct to say he’s blinded by faith, but it’s not exactly wrong either. he definitely feels, subconsciously, that something’s… off, maybe, about his god. perhaps it’s the way his vision always seems to flutter and flare, or the ice in his veins when the command to hunt is given. he feels uneasy, unsettled, finding himself rolling his shoulders and wondering if he needed to add more stretches into his routines. and yet, despite the tension in his shoulders and the twist in his stomach, he kneels, bowing his head with a swear of fealty that goes unanswered.

unacknowledged.

perhaps he had delivered it wrong?

he doesn’t think much of it, quickly dissolving from the throne room and appearing besides the statue of the seven on the west edge of liyue. looking out over jueyun karst, he knows it’s a bit fruitless to start his search there due to the vicinity to the other adepti, but the spires there are tall, filled with wiry bushes and crags of rock that are easier to hide in than may seem at first glance.

he draws his pole arm, spinning it once over his hand before tapping the end to the stone beneath him. he’s not sure why he’s so nervous—is it the fact that this is technically the first order he’s been given? is it the idea of slaughtering somebody so identical to his creator that it nearly fooled morax, who’s been alive longer than he could fathom?

or is it simply the prospect of failure?

xiao grits his teeth and steps off the edge of the floating stone, halting his fall with anemo at nearly the last possible moment.

his feelings meant nothing. orders were given, and he had to follow them.

why else was he there, if he couldn’t?

it takes him longer than he expected to find you. he’s almost impressed, really, that you managed to evade his searching eyes, that you dodged not only him but the other adepti as well, all without taking refuge in any villages or otherwise civilized areas due to the orders the millelith put out. you hid well, he could attest to that, and though he was the one to find you, it was only on accident.

he was clearing out a group of hilichurls north of the inn. he was surprised so many had settled so close to the statue of the seven, as hilichurls usually avoided concentrated elemental energy, but didn’t think too hard about it. he simply unhooked his mask from his belt, noticing the difference in strength between these hilichurls and the average, and teleported into the middle of the camp.

the first thing he heard was a spotter’s cry. the second was the mitachurls’—archons, there were three—roar as they hefted their weapons. the final one was the intricate chanting of the abyss, but not any incantation he recognized.

he kept himself half in smoke as he danced around the edge of the camp, taking out the archers while he tried to find the abyss mage. he could catch glimpses of hydro bubbles through the walls of the hut, but the steps were covered in frost-

he barely ducked under the swing of a mitachurl’s axe, slashing his spear along its side as he slipped away, darting across the path of one charging with a large stone shield. it clipped his shoulder despite his efforts, pain spiking down his arm, but he didn’t pay attention to the injurh. normally he wouldn’t be this distracted, but two abyss mages and three mitachurls in one camp could only spell bad news. the best he could likely do was to leave and grab back-up, but who? the millelith were busy, morax and the adepti were on their own search…

xiao quickly climbed onto the roof of the hut, jamming his spear between two of the logs to keep grip on the woven roofing. the grass was damp, squishing uber this feet, likely from whatever hydro magic the mage was busy with within it. it likely wasn’t the smartest idea to stand on the roof, but this area of liyue was mostly plains, with little cover from the charging mitachurls. he needed a moment, if only a short one, to hash out a plan to deal with the camp.

the three mitachurls were standing besides the hut, two with shields and one with a crackling axe, electro dancing along the blade. xiao shifted, pivoting around the peak of the hut to move away from that one, the grass roof squishing below his feet.

the mitachurl’s ear twitched.

he shoved himself off the roof just as the mitachurl slammed the flat of its blade onto the roof, the whole shack shaking. electricity swarmed across the waterlogged roofing, reaching the opposite edge just as xiao dropped off it, landing between the other two mitachurls. they didn’t charge, nor attack, their motivations only made clear when the hiss of cryo froze out the lingering moisture in the air in front of him, effectively boxing him in.

the abyss mage swayed in its circle, staff glowing a sharp blue from within its bubble of frost.

“leave, adeptus,” it hissed, waving its staff in a circle. “you have no place here.”

xiao didn’t reply, instead picking apart his options. he couldn’t do significant damage to the shield mitachurls without utilizing his burst to destroy their shields, but that didn’t cover the mage at all… and he was still wet from the roof, so the mage would be able to freeze him within the time he had drawn in enough anemo energy to wield his mask with any level of efficiency…

he flexed his hand around his polearm. how had he gotten into this situation? his only options were to get lucky or teleport away, but even the latter of those relied on the first.

luck. how useless was he, to rely on luck-?

“‘adeptus’?”

the abyss mage startled at the voice, the cryo it had been swirling dissipating. both he and it turned to the side, to the entrance to the hut, where a figure could be seen just beyond the mitachurl.

his first instinct was that it was his god, and he briefly relaxed under the knowledge that he’d get out of this in mostly one piece.

his second was to recognize the torn clothing and dirt-smeared skin, and realize that you could never be his god.

xiao’s eyes narrowed, his spear twisting towards you faster than the distracted mage could react. you, his target, the one he had been seeking out, were hiding behind the abyss. he should have expected it, in truth, figured out the one known for going against the rules of nature would side with the most unnatural force, but that was not for now.

not now, when he was launched forward by the power of anemo, his spear driving him forward, barely skimming the mitachurl in favor of his true target: you.

your eyes barely had the chance to dart in his direction.

xiao was, in truth, not the first one to see you.

many villagers had glimpsed you running around the outskirts of their villages, plucking apples and sunsettias off trees and taking mint from their gardens and leaving bundles of sweet flowers behind instead. they’d seen you, face half-covered in a poor mask made of scraps, your clothes that of the haphazard stitches of the hilichurls, which helped you blend into teyvat a bit more at the price of comfort. many had seen you and assumed you were a run of the mill thief, perhaps one taking advantage of the current hunt since the millelith were occupied. they wryly called you clever, warning the traveling merchants about you, the one they glimpsed at inane hours of night.

he wasn’t the first to see you, by far. he was, however, the first to recognize you.

he was the first to lay eyes upon your form and realize the truth, to realize that the blood seeping into your clothes was the color of stars and galaxies, to recognize that your heart beat blue.

the argument could be made that the hilichurls were the first, or perhaps the mages that had taken you in and brought you food, but it was not them that gathered you into their arms and whisked you away in a flash of teal, uncaring of the spike of cryo that drove into their side at the last minute. the hilichurls did not walk with frosted-over limbs, the abyss did not cry with a throat full of ice, calling for assistance in undoing their own crime.

xiao couldn’t decide whether it was lucky or not that baizhu was in the pharmacy, speaking with herbalist gui over the front desk. on one hand, it was best to have the most experienced healer in liyue at your side, but on the other..

“adeptus xiao, what is-…..”

confusion, then anger, then realization, all flashing over his face in an instant before he tilted his head and walked quickly to a back room, xiao following.

he busied himself with picking the ice off his body and clothes, ignoring the shake of his hands and the stench of blood in the room. the mage had pulled you from the point of his spear, but he still hit the side of your stomach, and he could tell it was messy.

knocks sounded at the door but baizhu turned them away sharply, only allowing qiqi to pass him a bowl of lotus seeds. he was focused, changsheng slithering off his shoulders to grab supplies as needed. time seemed to slow to a crawl, like xiao had entered a domain without an exit, filled with the iron smell of blood and the never ending chips of ice he peeled from his skin. it left behind stinging wounds and red marks, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

what was his brief moment of injury compared to a scar upon his god?

the moment that baizhu had stopped, all but collapsing into a chair and wiping off his hands with a tired call of ‘it’s done. the foundation will be okay.’ xiao had stood and left, biting his tongue through the protests of both his own body and the doctor.

he’d given changsheng his confession, but he did not wish to stick around and hear his verdict.

weeks later, morax came and visited him at the inn, carrying with him a plate of almond tofu and an apology. xiao leaned against the furthest edge of the balcony, curled around the plate, staying as far as he could from the one with your aura imprinted upon him.

he felt it, when zhongli had first come up the stairs. the shock, then the warmth, the all-encompassing comfort that soothed the pain from the bruising on his shoulder. he felt it, and knew that he did not deserve it.

“it’s not your fault,” zhongli insisted, baritone words colored with unreturned sympathy. “the fake… had fooled us all. even me. i cannot hold your actions against you when i myself would have done the same.”

and maybe that was true. maybe he would have drawn his own weapon, pierced your skin himself, acting on the orders of one who dared to take the place of the divine, but that was irrelevant.

xiao was the one who had hurt you. and it was entirely his fault.

almond tofu, his favorite dish, tasted bitter and sour on his tongue, almost akin to the pain medication that zhongli had made him drink after noticing how cautious he was with his injured arm. he’d made him take the first dose in front of him and swear to take the rest, with a long monologue about taking care of himself tacked on afterwards, but it was for nothing. aside from the first night he had it, xiao hadn’t touched the bottle. it sat on his nightstand, beside a bed he hardly used, taunting him when he returned earlier than usual.

he could take it. there was nothing stopping him from doing so, and he probably should if he wanted to return to his duties quicker. but every time he picked up the glass, thumb tracing over the engravings as he undid the top, he hesitated.

he could take it. he probably should. but did he deserve to?

you were still recovering, possibly still bedridden weeks later. your blood still stained his spear, dripping down to his palms, pale and scarred skin marked further with the blue and purple swirls of his sin. you were still in pain, still healing from a spear to your side, and he was here, reaching for medicine for a sore shoulder?

(it was worse than that. bone had knocked against bone, bruising beneath where muscle could reach. it ached even when he sat as still as possible, dragging him out of every attempt to meditate. the dark purple splotches stretched beyond his clothing, reaching across his back and up his neck, making nearly any action flare the wound. it was far beyond an over-exerted muscle or a particularly tiring day, and yet even the worst nights of his pain were staved off by the memory of having to wash blue off his blade. even as the latch on the bottle was undone, the lip pressed to his, he could never bring himself to drink it)

(even the small droplet of it on the rim, tasting of qingxin extract and violet grass, threatened to make him sick. how dare he?)

yes, it would likely only get him into more trouble were he found out, but he was careful not to be. whenever the wind brought him the heavy presence of geo, zhongli’s familiar footsteps climbing the stairs, he snatched the bottle and emptied it into the stone carving on the balcony, letting the medicine soak into the soil beneath it. it splashed when he was sloppy, the deep purple medicine appearing blue on the stone, sparking a memory that weighed harder on the pit in his stomach.

even as he handed the bottle over to zhongli, his jaw clenched from the strain on his shoulder. the action was stiff, jerky, but evidently smooth enough that it had passed his assessment.

zhongli tucked the bottle away, surprisingly not drawing out a new one.

“i am proud of you, and of the progress you have made,” he said, golden eyes softening in the light of dusk. “well done, xiao.”

how strange, he thought, watching him leave, that the very action that made his vision swim with unshed tears was one that was praised.

he wouldn’t complain, of course. he never would. this pain was his to bear, just as the burden of your bloodshed was his to shoulder. he was well aware his pain could never take back yours—though he wished, desperately, that he could move your injury to him. he wanted to be able to take on the physical reminder of his defect, to take the hit of his own spear to spare you from his lapse in judgement. he would take it, take ten times the pain you endured, if only it meant that your skin was free of his scars.

it would be an honor to assist the divine, even at the price of his own life.

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #sagau impostor au #genshin self aware au #sagau xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x you #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #*lying through my teeth* what do you mean of course i don’t have favorites #hey writer tip here: just write. i know you think it’s gonna be bad. i know it’ll likely seem strange and off-key. guess what? write. #just do it. best advice ever. who cares if it’s shit? you can rewrite it later! once you get through the bad and into the groove it’s fine!! #you’ve gotta expel your Bad Words to get to the good stuff. take it from me i always rewrite my beginnings whenever i post #the first paragraphs are gonna suck! and that’s okay! just keep goin baby!! you’ll get it eventually!! #oh btw just so it’s clear: zhongli’s proud of him for taking the meds not for his um. violent acts. #it’s meant to be a ‘thank you for trusting me and accepting help’ but the twist is: he ISNT #i love xiao. with all my heart. i absolutely adore him. he is my beloved little blorbo. #but good lord do i like to see him cry sometimes.

[fiddleabout]

TRICK OR TREAT! :D

seems like everyone i know who's getting this is posting fic snippets so uhhh okay here you go:

Ava's life ends with a fire, and with a dark sky, and with the world collapsing around her.

She crashes onto a rock, stumbling legs barely making the jump, and falls entirely onto her face.  Her whole body thrums with pain, with a loss that feels like peace, with the understanding that they succeeded, they saved the world, they saved everyone.

Beatrice lands at her side, inelegant and crumpling, filthy with volcanic ash ash and the grime of keeping them both upright after so long, from hauling Ava up the mountain when the ring had worn down the last of her strength.  She’s bleeding from a gash just over her temple, hands and knees blistered from the superheated rocks she’d landed on to drag Ava back from the edge, back from her own failure.

They saved the world, but not for them.  They saved the world, but only for everyone else.  There’s no ring left, no Sauron. No destiny anymore, no future, no journey home to a realm and a throne and a people that have been waiting generations for her to find her way to them.  Just Ava and Beatrice, here alone at the end like it had for so long been just Ava and Beatrice, a lost heir and a discarded outcast, alone together at the beginning.

Ava curls onto her side, her breaking body resisting the effort, until she can bury her head in Beatrice’s neck and drop her hand onto the ragged worn shirt covering Beatrice’s stomach, armor long lost.  There’s always been a familiar scent to Beatrice, constant as her steady heartbeat, warm and clean.  Now, though, as the world ends around them, ash settling light on them and lava creeping closer and closer, Beatrice smells like blood and sweat and exhaustion.

Distantly, the tower crumbles, a shockwave that shudders the mountain and the fading ache of Ava's pulse as she finally, finally, lets herself rest. Closer, a hand curls along the back of Ava’s neck, up into her hair, and a small choked noise escapes into the side of Beatrice’s neck.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Ava says, because even here, even now, with the world ending around them and no way out, she still can’t put proper words to it.  Ava’s spent her whole life running, running from her name and her blood and her birthright, from her duty and her future and her people, from Beatrice.  “Here, at the end of all things.”

#amtrak12 #writing tag #warrior nun #lotr au #one day! one day! on god im gonna fuckin finish chef au and then write this bitch #ive got 5k words and i refuse to give up on it #if youre someone who's sent me an ask and are still waiting for an answer #no you're not #there's nothing there #this is not the inbox you're looking for #(im sorry im shit at replying to asks but i promise i read them all at least if that means anything a;ldkfjasl;dkfja)

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday💀

tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck 💖

hi! so, yesterday I randomly opened the doc with the buddie death cast au - which is a fic I started writing last summer on vacation and never got back to it but then made progress lol it's gonna be MCD, which i know is not everyone's thing so feel free to ignore this 🤣 it's basically buddie in the universe of the "they both die at the end"/"the first to die at the end" books so it's gonna be sad, sorry lol (I never even read mcd, idk why i'm writing this but this idea just wants to be written i guess haha) gotta put this weird mood I've been in lately to good use and finally write this 🤣 not sure if I'm happy with this snippet, but it all needs editing, the first two snippets were written on my phone and haven't been edited yet lol

I posted two snippets so far, gonna link them both snippet 1 | snippet 2

___

“Is all of this clear, Eddie?” she asks in the end.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” he says shortly. He should've just hung up immediately. Or cancel this stupid subscription after Shannon died. Sometimes he wonders if maybe people who get the calls and coincidentally get into accidents, for example, just give up and refuse to fight because they think it’s their time. Not like Shannon could do much, her injuries were too severe when they got there, but the point stands. Maybe they get more reckless, thinking it doesn’t matter anyway. 

There’s a short pause on the line, but then Jane speaks up again, her tone softer, more sympathy seeping through.

“I know it’s not easy to accept, if you’d like some help with that, on out website you can find therapists and grief counselors specializing in-”

“Listen.” Eddie interrupts. He’s spent enough time in therapy. He’s not doing it on his supposedly last day. “I know it’s all bullshit. I don’t care. You said what you had to say, I listened, for whatever reason.” he rolls his eyes. He really should’ve hung up, or not answered at all. “Is this conversation over yet?” he asks and is met with another moment of silence. She’s probably wondering what everyone else always is: why is he even spending money on this if he doesn’t believe. He has an answer ready to go, but that’s not what she asks.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says quieter, whispering, probably not allowed to go too much off-script. 

“Sure, why not.” he shrugs. He’s wide awake now, anyway, he’s not in a hurry. Not like he’s dying anytime soon.

“If it was your last day, how would you spend it? You don’t have to answer, just think about it.” she adds quickly, her tone much softer and gentler now. Eddie’s mind immediately supplies a picture of Christopher and Buck, just a casual hang-out, like usual, maybe going to the movies, or the aquarium, or the planetarium, something fun for his kid. And later a gathering with the rest of their family, maybe a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s, with Maddie and Chim, and Hen and Karen, all their kids, just everyone having fun together. Yeah, that’d be a perfect day. “There’s no harm in spending today just like this, if possible. Just in case.” Jane adds, still whispering. He doesn’t tell her that’s more or less his plan, anyway, for the evening after his 12-hour shift. During which nothing will happen to him, because Death-Cast doesn’t know shit. “Well, lastly, Eddie,” Jane’s voice is back at normal-volume, tone strictly professional but sympathetic, as she recites the end of her script, “on behalf of everyone here at Death-Cast, we’re so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest.”

Eddie hangs up without a word.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @diazsdimples @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks

#tease tidbit tuesday #death cast buddie au #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #angst #buddie angst #mcd #i don't know how yet but eddie will die in this one bc apparently ive been in the mood to break my own heart lmao #i wanted to say maybe i'd share smth happier tomorrow but i don't think i have any happy wips im actively working on rn??? #there are happy wips in general but im not really in the mood/inspired for those rn #ran out of happy when i finished the natalia fic i guess lol #who even am i lmao what's with all the angst and sad im usually all about fluff 🤣 #(gonna share some more of alive shannon tomorrow!) #btw if you haven't read the books and have questions hmu but also i'll try to make everything clear in the fic lol #but also SO recommend the books they're so good and so sad and I think about them like at least once a week (the prequel wrecked me)

[popponn]

i'm this close to opening discussion whether (is it possible that) kaiser is a playboy or not

#poponing #seeing how he enjoys feeling superior? this seems highly possible esp in a modelling au etc #BUT this guy also hits me like someone who is married into his job and if the other person doesn't give me the feeling of sueriority #for him in his field then he won't bother (i.e. how he acts @ yoichi & @ others at the beginning aka rizzlord kaiser vs default fridge guy) #kaiser (also sae) where is your back story ln chapter im begging here #okay lets stop here before i go off to some weird tangents. now back to rl business. will prob del later #babblings #also adding another note kaiser does seems to kinda focus on something or someone then appear disinterested in others #also will he even bother making someone feel special?? im asking really at this point im going off on semi baseless assumption #that fragile self image is making me scratching my head #but you know ness—magic and then kaiser—blue yellow—glass (chain) kinda like a fairytale (cinderella) ok off topic #....okay not gonna del this. this is my personal note #ugh but anyway playboy kaiser...? he really is confusing for me to write now because his facades are so different #and that cold guy part is STILL a facade. what are u kaiser #now back to rl fr

[teddybeartoji]

i have this other idea that just lives inside my head but it's soooo silly i can't like imagine gojo goes on love island lmao and everybody ofc expects him to be a a full on fuckboy right? but then on the FIRST DAY like the first ever time all of the contestans meet each other he meets the reader and he's just gone he knows you're the one for him and i mean it could go either way - the reader not being that into him and him just trying to prove himself OR they both just instantly feel the connection i can see them both not being able to look away from each other with kind of shy smiles while someone is reading out the task or some shit lmao

#♡˳·˖ mtalks #I HEADCANON HIM AS THE BIGGGGGEST SIMP OK LEAVE ME BE #i know this is silly bc who the fuck is gonna write a love island au #right? #right?? #angel boy #gojo satoru #mickey can't stop thinking

[autisticlancemcclain]

Okay so I haven’t read lance angst in forever and decided to read some and I have just binge read all of the Beauty and the Beast klance au you just made and I absolutely ADORE it!!! It is so amazing and I love it so much!

It did make me curious what the whole ‘rescue’ scene is going to be, is the three people in the family who didn’t want Lance to marry the prince try to save him? Or is it going to go the totally different direction?

Cause I can imagine a scene where the village sees that Lance and Keith are actually going to work out and the family gets worried that Lance is going to try to get revenge on them/the whole village so they try to take Lance away from Keith. Or try to make it so Lance wouldn’t become King when they actually get married!

But anyways yeah I love this story, and how you’ve changed it up a bit so it’s different that the original Beauty and the Beast! Thanks for listening to my rant!

anon i am kissing you for asking. you are the love of my life and the wedding is this spring.

HERE WE GO:

important to remember: lance’s family, although not conventionally, care for him deeply. he struggles to conform to what the town expects and they are scared for him, so they struggle to make space for him in a way that makes him feel loved and included. he can’t keep up with his fathers or brothers on the farm, he gets along with animals better than people (and as such refuses to hunt them, despite his stellar aim), he has no friends because he is an Odd Person, he gets obsessive over small things, he cries all the time, he’s headstrong, he argues with everyone, he’s a klutz, just…so many things. he has skills and they know that but his skills aren’t helpful in the context of the farm. he is, however, helpful in that he can send back money from marrying the prince, and if he’s married to the prince, his family knows he’s safe and cared for in a way they maybe can’t provide for him.

with this in mind it’s obvious that there’s a lot of tension and complication between lance and his family, but lance KNOWS that they love him. take the first chapter with lance and marco, for example. it looks bad and it is bad, and lance is hurt, and marco refuses to help lance do what he desperately wants — go home. but marco isn’t doing it without guilt, and he’s also doing his best to make lance’s transition easier: “You’ve always wanted to live in a castle, right?”. despite the fact that his home life isn’t perfect, lance is in that castle missing his family. he wants his sisters and nieces and nephews and brothers. he wants his mom. they may not understand him but they love him and he knows that, and in that castle with, and i can’t say this enough, NO OTHER PEOPLE, he is going to miss shit like getting hugged, for fucks sake. lance is a touchy person and as close as he and hunk are doing to become hunk is a Literal Block Of Wood, and keith is going to be too closed off to provide any tactile affection for a While.

my plan is that after a few chapters of slowburn and building friendships, lance is going to get all morose and miserable. and keith, who is well beyond whipped at that point, is going to want to help. so one day lance is going to muster the courage to ask to have his family for a visit (“They’ll stay outside! I swear! They’ll have no chance of even seeing you, Keith, please, I missed bothering my brothers so much —”) and keith won’t even come close to denying him.

and because chekhov’s gun is the only thing i’ve got locked and loaded, obviously one of lances family members (probably one of the kids) is going to go wandering inside. and lance is going to try to stop it but it will be Too Late. they’re going to see keith and freak out, and since keith’s freak outs are very scary, it’s going to make the whole situation worse, and they’re going to drag lance back home kicking and screaming and when they come back with with the town and pitchforks.

the gaston of the story is going to be james, i think, and i’m gonna change the story a bit bc i’m gonna spend longer with lance back in town and he’s sullen and furious and desperate to convince everyone that keith is kind and soft and loving, really, and they have him all wrong. which of course does not help his case. but you all know how the rest of the story goes

but yeah!!!! i’m really very excited i love this story too, and changing it was inevitable but it’s been super fun to plan how i’m gonna adapt it!! i’m rly looking forward to writing all the sappy falling in love parts teehee

#keith is the bookworm so lance is not getting a library #can y’all guess what he’s getting instead 👀👀 #OH GOD this is making me want to write more so bad #i was gonna try to sway the poll in the favour of the lost at sea au but….. #im on a batb kick babey #YALL BETTER FUCKINF READ IT THIS TIME I STG OR IM NOT GONNA POST CHAPTERS ANYMORE #I WILL DEADASS MAKE A LIST OF PEOPLE WHO INTERACT W THE POST AND DM THEM THE CHAPTERS INDIVIDUALLY I SWEAR TO FUCKINF GOD #whew. #klance #batb au #batb #ask

[starry-bi-sky]

Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"

Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."

Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"

Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.

Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.

("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.

"On it."

"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."

"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."

"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."

"Oh great.")

"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."

"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."

"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."

(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)

(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)

"Thermos?"

Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."

(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)

"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.

(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)

Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."

He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?

Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"

Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.

"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."

"you didn't answer my question."

"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.

"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."

"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."

Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.

Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.

"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."

"Do you have no one to contact?"

"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."

That one person being Ellie.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919

#dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #danny fenton is a clone #dpxdc #dp crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc au #it was either ellie comes to get danny or he stays in gotham Somewhere #and he's Only Just met the bats so they're prolly not gonna offer anything #danny's fear of being alone in gotham is prolly downplayed here #but if it were me i would ALSO be slowly driving up to. a panic attack the longer i was in an unfamiliar city with no way home #if this were a proper fic that panic attack would be a lot more evident in the writing #alas #not me looking up Batfam personality cheat sheets because ive never read the comics #dont trust my characterization of the batfam im winging it on google search and summaries of their personalityand out of context comic page #fun fact amity park is described as a moderately large urban city similar to chicago or san francisco which means i cant call it a small to #listening to Dark Arkansas Daughter while writing this #'you with the dark curls you with the watercolor eeyes. you who bares all your teeth in every smiiile' is so au danny coded #bullet point to prevent me from dragging #i need to stop writing these at midnight #im a very honest person and it shows in my writing and it sucks

[fastcardotmp3]

I know there are plenty of Steddie aus where they get together pre-s4 in one way or another, but are there any where Eddie still dies?

Because like. Steve grieving in a way and to a degree he never has before; steve showing up on Nancy's doorstep with an apology on his tongue because I didn't get it before I get it now I get it now you can't ever go back to normal Nance I get it now; Steve facing a mortality other than his own because he was supposed to be the tank, the thing at the front lines that took the hits even if it meant going down but no one else was.

Steve who wonders why this had to be the time he fails, who hates himself for thinking that when he'd never give anyone else's life in place of Eddie's except maybe his own.

Steve down for the count while they try to regroup and only a spare few people understand why, Steve who comes out to his mother on accident just by merely cracking when she wraps him in a hug after he tries to explain that he lost a friend in the earthquakes, he lost a friend Mom I lost him, I should have-- I couldn't-- I can't--

Just.

Steve who adopted himself into this world, chose to stay despite not being all that connected to any of them after he and Nancy break up; he felt for Nancy when she lost Barb and he felt for El when she lost Hopper but he never got it like he gets it now.

To lose your person.

It's enough to make a warrior out of a boy or a self-imploding missile out of a lover.

It's up to Steve which one he becomes.

#dot post #steddie #steve x eddie #where my girlies (gn) who like being sad at #when I write both this /and/ the dead steve fic what then who is gonna stop me #i think steve and nancy bonding over what it means to grieve someone in that way would be... everything I need actually #this is an eddie stays dead au by the way do not doubt my insistence on that #more 5 minute posts from dot tonight but I shan't apologize

[adrift-in-thyme]

I need to know. First is probably touch starved thanks to all the shit that happened to him before his death, right? Which of the chain make it their mission to fix it?

Ok so I saw this ask, sat down, and started writing. So I hope you don’t mind but I’ll be answering your question in fic form

(And it’s more than 1k so I’m just gonna…hide it beneath the cut lol)

Sky breathes in deep and closes his eyes. The tantalizing smell of pumpkin soup wafts to his nostrils, mingling with the smokiness of the fire. The sounds of its crackling and the cheery talk of his companions reach his ears, and he smiles.

It’s been a long, tiring day for them all, but moments like this make it well worth it. The bruises from today’s battles may still ache, and the cuts still sting, yet at the end of it, they have one another.

He allows himself another moment of dark bliss, then opens his eyes. Taking in the sight of the heroes only makes his smile grow.

Across the fire Wild grins and nudges Twilight with his elbow, both of them chuckling over some shared joke. Legend and Warriors sit shoulder to shoulder. Their friendly teasing can be heard from where Sky sits. Wind has settled down beside Time, and though Sky can’t make out what their conversation is about, it seems like the older hero is telling the sailor a story.

Four sits off to the side, engrossed in a book, a soft smile on his face. And Hyrule joins in Twilight and Wild’s conversation now, the laughter growing louder at his cheeky contribution.

Everyone seems happy and light. Perhaps, more so than they have been for a while.

…well, maybe not everyone. Sky sits upright abruptly, scanning the camp for their little group’s newest member. He could have sworn the hero had been right here moments ago. Where had he slipped off to?

Aha.

Sky catches sight of the now familiar silhouette, dark and shadowy against the light of the moon. First sits a short distance away, back to the camp, face upturned to take in the sky. His cape floats lazily upon the breeze.

The Skyloftian takes another glance around the group and makes his decision. He rises.

Though First is much more at ease with the other heroes now, he can still be a bit aloof. Not that Sky blames him. Being with a group can be difficult, especially when constant danger is added to the mix. And after everything the knight has been through his behavior makes sense.

Still, Sky can’t bring himself to believe First actually wants to be alone. He’s seen the yearning in his eyes when he sees the others teasing one another, hugging one another, easy and companionable as family members. And he’s not the only one either.

“There’s no way he doesn’t actually want to sit with us,” Wild had whispered one day when First had broken away yet again to sit alone. “Going as long as he did without anyone even touching him? It’s torture.”

Time had nodded, expression solemn but understanding. “He’s scared. Give him time.”

So, Sky had given him time. Time to adjust and learn to trust them, time to find his footing in a time that was not his own. But First hadn’t stopped putting distance between himself and the others. And Sky is tired of waiting

It’s clear that the knight needs someone else to make the first step. So, tonight he intends to do just that.

It worked with Legend. If he’s lucky, it’ll work with First too.

And so, leaving the comfort of the fire behind, he walks to First’s side.

First doesn’t startle at his approach, but he does turn at the sound of his footsteps. He looks up at him, gaze sharp and cold. If he weren’t accustomed to it by now, Sky would likely turn tail and rush back to the others.

“Hi,” he says, instead, holding up a hand in a little wave. “Mind if I join you?”

Instantly, First’s expression softens.

“Of course not.”

He gestures toward the spot beside him. Sky settles down, sliding close so his shoulder bumps First’s. Though the knight tenses slightly, he doesn’t move away. The Skyloftian is more than happy to count that as a win.

“What’re you doing over here by yourself?” he asks, casually. “It’s much warmer by the fire.”

First hums. He’s looking at the sky again, pale hair and skin giving him an almost otherworldly look beneath the moon’s glow.

“You can see the stars better from here.”

Sky knows that’s a lie. The stars are bright enough to be seen from virtually any angle and the little clearing they’ve made their camp in is among the best. But he lets it slide.

“They’re beautiful,” he says and First nods.

“Every age of Hyrule is unique and their skies are no exception.” A smile tugs at First’s lips. “But somehow the stars are always the same.”

Sky grins. He knows well the comfort of Hyrule’s skies. The same constellations he once gazed at from atop the academy can be seen from Lon Lon Ranch or the Dueling Peaks.

“It’s true. See?” He points and First follows the direction of his finger. “There’s the Loftwing Constellation I used to see on Skyloft. It’s always been my favorite.”

First’s smile grows a bit larger, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders.

“It’s mine too.”

Emboldened, Sky gestures to another cluster of stars.

“I’ve gotta admit, though, I’ve always been fond of the First Hero.”

First stares at the constellation for a moment. Then, with a chuckle, he shakes his head.

“Now, you're just flattering me.”

He shivers a little and Sky takes the opportunity to scoot closer.

“Here,” he says, untying his sailcloth. He stretches it so both he and First are enveloped in its warmth. “This will keep the cold out.”

First drags his gaze down from his star-gazing to skewer him with a questioning look. Sky meets it with a kind smile, and after a moment the hero relaxes. Carefully, he grasps his end, pulling it snugly over his shoulders. And Sky might be imagining it, but he’s almost certain First leans against him just a bit.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Sky can’t keep back the grin that lifts his lips.

“My pleasure.”

They sit in silence for a moment, bodies pressed close, eyes trained on the heavens above. Then, First breaks it.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I appreciate the gesture, truly. But it is unnecessary.”

“Do what?” Sky asks, nonchalantly. “I just felt like spending some time with my predecessor.”

First turns to him, studying him in the darkness. Sky can tell without even looking at his face, that he doesn’t believe him. And after a few very awkward minutes pass he realizes something more genuine is in order.

“I like being with you, First,” he says, gently. He places a hand on First’s shoulder and the knight stiffens. Even in the dark, he can see the fractures in his usually guarded expression. “We all do. You don’t have to be alone.”

Something flits across First’s face, come and gone too fast for Sky to catch it. But before either of them can say anything more, Wild’s cheery voice rings out across the clearing.

“Dinner’s ready! Hurry on over unless you want us to eat it all!”

First looks away, quickly.

“I suppose we’d best head back,” he says, tone suspiciously level. “I don’t doubt their ability to scarf down everything in that pot.”

He doesn’t move, however, and Sky decides to take another chance. He gives him a gentle nudge.

“You’re right, we should go.”

Rising, he secures the clasp on the sailcloth once more. Something like remorse flashes across First’s face, but it is gone as quickly as it came. And when Sky turns to head back to camp, he follows him without comment.

Wild is ladling out generous portions of soup when they arrive. He hands them both bowls with a grin.

“It’s Twi’s recipe,” he says, “or more Yeto’s. Either way, don’t worry, I made seconds.”

Sky gives him an answering grin of his own. “Thanks, Champion.” He turns to First and waves a hand. “Come on, you can sit by me.”

The knight hesitates a moment, looking at the log the other heroes have made their seats upon with a mix of longing and trepidation. Then, he nods.

Sky settles down beside Legend, sending the veteran a smile as he does so. That sets First between him and Twilight.

The rancher greets First with a genial nod, which the knight returns as he sits down. Despite his easy movements and relaxed expression, however, Sky can feel the tension that radiates off of him in waves. But as they begin to eat and the conversation turns to favorite battle strategies, he slowly starts to relax.

And when they finish their meal and sleepiness brings their conversations to a lazier pace, the other heroes start to shift positions.

Slowly, they drift over as they always do, seeking the warmth and comfort of close proximity. But unlike other nights, where they usually group together in twos and threes, the heroes decide to form a giant cuddle pile. Even Time joins, though he sticks to the outskirts of it, his head resting on Warriors’ shoulder.

Everyone else snuggles close, lazily mumbling complaints about bony elbows and knees, and sighing as they find comfortable positions.

And First finds himself smack in the center of it all.

He sends Sky an almost worried glance as Wind squeezes between him and the rancher. The sailor huddles close, with a wide yawn.

“This was your plan the whole time, wasn’t it?” The knight whispers, accusingly. But even as he says it, Wind tugs at his cape, cuddling into its warmth. His expression softens and he reaches down, tucking the sailor in more comfortably.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sky sees the rancher try and fail to hold back a smile.

“I didn’t plan anything,” he replies, innocently. “I think the soup just made everyone extra sleepy. Right, Twilight?”

Twilight nods. “Nothing puts you to sleep like a good bowl of soup. And Yeto’s is the best. Better than a sleep potion, I’d say.”

From First’s expression he doesn’t believe either of them. Regardless, he doesn’t complain after that.

And when his eyelids droop, he finally allows his head to drop onto Sky’s shoulder. Gently, Sky pulls the sailcloth over his shoulders once more. The knight blows out a small sigh of contentment and snuggles closer.

Sky smiles, reveling in this small victory.

“Goodnight, First,” he whispers, settling in and letting his eyes slip closed.

When First replies his words are slurred and thick with sleep. But Sky can hear the smile in them anyway.

“Goodnight, Sky.”

#WOW that got away from me #I couldn’t help it! #a chance to tackle both first’s trust issues and guilt AND the fact that he’s totally touch starved #was way too good to pass up #but long story short #sky’s definitely the one who makes it his mission to help first #all the boys help out in their own way though #they all know what it’s like to be touch starved #so when they see what sky’s up to they’re like ‘ok guys here’s the plan: we’re gonna make a cuddle pile’ #anyway #tysm for the ask!! #I’m gonna get around to answering your other one too #I promise #I just keep running out time #maybe cause I’m writing 1k words of first getting snuggled XD #linkeduniverse #lu chain #lu sky #lu first #first meets the chain au #trin answers #trin writes #ficlet #fluff #light angst #touch starved #lovely bumblebeekitten

[ur-local-remy-kinnie]

wowzers akane the goober!! (submission for @mari-lair’s dtiys)

#tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #aoi akane #my stuff #my art #posting this from tummyache city (im probably not gonna survive this tummyache tbh) #i like how the eyes on this one turned out tbh #literally used the same brush for the entire thing & didnt even think to use anything else #aughhhhhh im kinda proud of this ngl (i aay that abt all my art) #rhi if ur reading this HE ISNT POPROCKS #SOBS. MEAN TO ME!!! #also since he has bunny ears & human ears in this au does he just hear twice as well or what #me asking the real questions here #im just gonna write an entire essay in the tags arent i #i am sorry for everyone who opened the tags to see whatever the hell this is. #anyways i was listening to bug art on repeat while doing the sketch/lineart for this #it made me feel shrimp emotions #i actually listened to a lotta good songs while making this one #ive been getting more into punk-rock lately!! #i was listening to the clash while colouring this it was so fun #specifically their album ‘london calling’… such a major bop #oh & dazey & the scouts!!! #maggot is such a banger song istg #i was literally fighting in the trenches tryna find good reference pics for him in this outfit #i mean i coulda drawn him in sth else ig but i had already started it & i wasnt gonna give up anytime soon #strangely enough i actually kinda knew what i was doing when colouring this… i usually just wing it #anyways i’m out of tags so ig that’s all #ty to everyone who read all this lmao

[crimeronan]

"Hunter doesn't even know half of it," the Inner Empress says, hugging her arms tighter around herself. She's rocking, a little, as though to keep herself calm. "He doesn't even know."

Raine keeps their voice very quiet, very gentle. "That Belos hurt you?"

"No, no, that doesn't matter, I don't care about any of that. He doesn't know about the others."

Raine's brows draw together. "The others?"

"The other guards. The Golden Guards before him. He doesn't know."

Darius stiffens so fast that the mindscape itself reacts. He's not making it easy to convince the inner self that they aren't here to hurt her. Raine suspects that he doesn't actually realize how intimidating he's being.

"What do you mean by that," he says flatly.

The trees shake. Dust dislodges. Luz shrinks away.

Raine touches her arm, still so gently.

"Whispers," Darius says, edging toward a snarl, "ask her what the fuck she means by that."

This inner self doesn't seem any better at expressing herself than her outward facade. Raine swallows. "It's okay, Luz," they say. "Hey, can you show us?"

#as usual idk if i can do a whole fic so. heres a snippet i started thinking about in the car #because it's making me fucking crazy. HELLO #toh #princess luz au #luz noceda #raine whispers #darius deamonne #my writing #darius who already had an ulterior motive re: ascertaining hunter's safety being like. i'm gonna kill belos again actually #raine like GET IT TOGETHER. COME ON