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multifan2022 · 10 months

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Golden Lies

Heres another new one that has been in my wips for who knows how long.. Let me know!!

“I volunteer!”

The first thought through your head after hearing that is ‘who said that?’ Who would volunteer for the 69th Hunger Games.. Well the games at all, but why now?

It isn't until people start turning around and looking at you, the 17 year old who almost escaped being reaped, that you realize whose voice you heard. You heard your own, because as soon as you saw little Cissa being pulled onto stage your heart broke.

Cissa was your neighbor, she had just turned 12 the day before the reaping. You would be turning 18 in a week and a half. The poor girl cried for twenty minutes when she got a papercut opening seeds, she wouldn't last in the games.

Not that you had a much better chance when it came down to it. The biggest difference was the only family you had was two grandparents, both very old and one sick. Cissa was the middle child of 5, her older twin brothers and her younger twin sisters. It would devastate them all if something happened to her, your grandparents wouldn't live long to mourn you.

The peacekeepers hands on you barely caught your attention as they forced you to switch places. The only good part you could see out of this, was that Cissa wouldn't be rereaped. You had saved at least one of their kids, a small payment for all the times they watched your grandparents during the harvest for the last 8 years.

Cress Amberpath, the light pink skinned Escort of your district, is practically vibrating with happiness when you reach the stage. There had never been a volunteer from your district while he worked here. He pulled you into a weird hug congratulating you before pulling you towards the mic. “Is there anything you would like to say to little Cissa, Dearie?”

You nodded, pulled yourself together and looked at her family. Her mother was already in tears, you being like a niece to her, while she clung to her daughter. The older twin boys who were your age nodded, letting you know they would take care of her. While their father nodded, letting you know he would take care of your grandparents. It all happened within seconds, and suddenly you were ok.

Everything was going to be ok. So you laughed and nodded again “Hey Cissy, take care of Finnick for me ya?” Cissa turned back to you, tears streaming down her face as she nodded and cracked a smile at the inside joke. When her family started laughing along with you, Cress spoke again “Whos Finnick my dear! Do you have a beau we should all know about!”

You knew this next part would maybe piss some people off, but you were off to die so who cares. You shook your head “It's my dog.. Because there was a magazine we found the same day I found this puppy, and on the cover it said ‘Is golden boy Finnick Odair, a dog?’ Cissy thought it was a sign that we should name him Finnick.”

To your utter surprise, Cress laughed.. Hard, like bent over laughing a genuine laugh before speaking “I wish we could see that man's face when he hears this, it would be priceless! But onto the boys!” When he left you in your spot and walked towards the other bowl, you scanned the crowd for the one friend you had.

Hardin Bellbrand.

A boy you went to school with, who worked the same field as you. He was your only confidant, the only person you trusted fully in this world. He was there when your parents died, you were there when he was diagnosed with an untold disease a few years ago. Hardin had been pulled from the fields, and was treated. Perk of being the Mayor's son, you guess. Now he could be out and about as long as he took his pill everyday.

If he missed his pills within a few days he would start to have severe pain. Next would come the sweats and puking alongside hallucinations. He wasn't fit to be in the games ethier, and thankfully he is a year older than you so this is his last year.

You finally made eye contact with him, and could see the heartbreak and sadness in them. Your ears start to buzz when he nods and looks away. You're frantically shaking your head as you hear Cress call some name you don't know. Your feet are moving before you realize it, mouth open screaming “NO” as you realize what Hardin is thinking.

Over your painfully screams to your sick friend, his voice rings clear “I volunteer as tribute!” The Mayor and his wife start screaming now as well, neither wanting to lose their only child. Both knowing even if he was fit and healthy, he's not a killer. While they are getting drug off stage by peacekeepers, Hardin is making his way to the stage.

He completely bypasses Cress who is practically dying in excitement and walks straight to you. While you're shaking your head, he smiles sadly and wraps you in a hug whispering over and over that it's ok. Even though it's anything but. Cress pulls him off you and towards the microphone. “Well!! What a turn of events!! Not ONE but TWO volunteers!! Why did you volunteer young man??”

Hardin turns his head and looks at you, that same sad smile present. “Couldn't let my best friend go off to fight without me.. She was gonna leave me in the fields to do all her work, can you believe that Cress?” He jokes and you know that he's going to make it through the process just fine. The struggle will be when the two of you are trying to survive in the arena.

But you're dedicated to keeping him alive.. Even if it means killing yourself in the end.

Hardin Bellbrand will be coming home.

~~~~~~~

The train ride was excruciating, listening to Cress gush about how your ratings were already up due to there being volunteers in an outlying district. But since there were two of you, and you were best friends, he swore that it would be an easy win. There hadn't been a victor from District 9 in 25 years and he was dead.

You and Hardin would be alone going into training, Cress would be your only guide during the next few weeks. You're both thankful for the fact the train rolls at 250 miles an hour, making your trip only a handful of hours. But your head was still pounding when you arrived.

Cameras flashed and people screamed questions at you both as you were practically shoved from the train and into a car. Just to have it all happen again between the car and the tribute center. The only difference was this time you saw people holding out flowers. Cress stopped and gasped, turning back to you both, “We have never had gifts given to us before the games! This is such an honor, graciously accept them and show your love for the capitol!”

You turned and nudge your head to one side, Hardin nodded and without speaking each of you took a side of the walkway. Men, women and children all screaming your name and touching your face or hair. Some had flowers that you would take and offer a smile and kind words back. You shake every hand you can reach, and even stop taking a few pictures.

Somehow you even look happy, excited even to be here, which only drives the crowd crazier. When you and Hardin meet back up by the doors, you each have a handful of flowers and messy hair. Your hands find each other, fingers intertwining as you bow and smile to the crowd who just screams louder.

Another car pulls up so the peacekeepers finish escorting you inside the huge building. Hardin looks around in amazement at the architecture and the size but all you can see is the bodies in the corner. A group of people who you assume are here to size up the competition and try to intimidate them.

Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria, Finnick and Augustus along with their tributes are all sitting there glaring at you. Well all of them besides Finnick, who is the same age as Augustus who is the same age as you and Hardin. Just a bunch of 17 and 18 year olds that deserve to be anyone but here. Finnick was smiling at you, looking you up and down before leaning over and making a comment to Augustus who then smirks.

The look on their faces makes your skin crawl, but you dont show it. Your upper lip pulling into a sneer as you fake gag in their direction causing Hardin to laugh as you keep walking towards the elevator. Thankfully disappearing from the Careers sight.

~~~~

Finnick was tired..

Tired of being in the Capitol. Tired of kissing asses, tired of sleeping around, and tired of pretending like he hated every other tribute who walked through the door. But mostly he was just tired, he really needed a nap and a good shower. He was practically sleeping with his eyes open not listening to the others when he heard the crowd outside start screaming.

He looked around quickly, thinking maybe one of the other careers had made their way outside. But no, the whole group was still there. As they all turned towards the door and waited, Finnick was stuck between relief and jealousy. Relief that maybe the people of the Capitol had found a new favorite and would leave him alone, and jealousy that the crowd was honestly being louder for whoever was outside than they were for him.

The jealousy washed away though when the doors opened and a beautiful girl walked in with her escort and who Finnick assumed was her district partner. Arms full of flowers, hair ruffled from fingers running through it and cheeks pink from embarrassment.

He knew right away by the lack of a Victor and the pink man escorting them that they were the tributes from District 9. While the guy looked around clearly amazed with the building, which to be honest happened to most of the tributes, the girl looked unimpressed. She rolled her eyes at her district mate, shouldered him a little before turning and noticing the group.

Which also seemed to be unimpressive to her.

While she looked them over, Finnick looked her over. She was tall for a girl, probably 5’7 or 5’8. Her hair was clean and down to the middle of her back, she was thin but not thin like most who came from her district. Definitely not thin like those from 12. More like the type of thin people get when they work the fields, which is probably what she did coming from 9.

They both looked in shape while the girl looked a little healthier and a little stronger, Finnick knew that appearances were deceiving. While he was sizing her up she turned and locked eyes with him. By the look on her face, she yet again was not impressed. Finnick leaned over to Augustus and whispered “I think we should probably watch out for that one. But smile, make her think we are making fun of her.”

Augustus, who was new to all of this, smiled condescendingly at her before she sneered at them. Laughed with her district mate and left, the two teens turning back to the other careers. “We need to watch them, that's the first time 9 hasnt been scared shitless when they walked in. Plus for whatever reason the crowd loved them, and that's always a problem.” Cashmere said, looking down at her nails before looking over at her brother who nodded.

That was all that passed between the group before they all went up to watch the reapings.

~~~~~~~~~

After hair was ripped out that you didn't even know existed, you were bathed and rubbed with an oil that made your skin seem tanned and shimmery. Makeup was smeared across your face as someone else was pulling at your hair. You sat quietly knowing that fussing was just going to make the process longer. Soon enough, but not soon enough you were left in just a robe in an empty room with nothing but a cot, a chair and a wardrobe.

When the door opened, a dark skinned woman with her hair back in box braids stepped in. She had just a little gold makeup on, and a small gold rose tattooed behind her ear. She smiled genuinely at you before pulling you into a hug, when she pulled back she squeezed your shoulders. “I'm sorry you have to be here.” She said so quietly you almost missed it.

All you did was nod and look down, but she put a hand under your chin and lifted your face. You could tell as she turned it and then looked at your hair that she was examining the team's work. Your eye make up was dramatic, a medium dark green on the lid, with orange brushed into brown that reminded you of leaves changing color. Your bottom lid had the same orange and brown along with dramatic winged eyeliner and false lashes.

Your hair had a thick but slightly messy fishtail crown braid with the rest waterfalling down your back in waves. Small clips that had butterflies, bees and dragonflies on them had been placed seemingly at random around your head. A crown woven with flowers such as Cardinal flower, wood lilies, dotted gayflower, and multiple colors of milkweed rested on your head. The smell was amazing, they looked and smelled like they had just bloomed in the fields behind your home. The mulberries and huckleberries looked like they had been picked at their peak and preserved perfectly.

“My name is Lavanna, I'm your and Hardin's main stylist. I will be designing all your outfits, I'm fresh out of school, this is my first game. But I plan to put you out there in a big way. Not to sound full of myself but I think the only person who could out do what I have planned for you is my younger brother Cinna.. And thankfully he's still in school.” Lavanna smiled at you before turning to the wardrobe and pulling out what you think are pieces of a dress.

She helps you into a dress that is skin tight from the shoulders, down your arms and chest. Tight all the way to your hips where it had just enough room and stretch to walk before it reached along with a slit that went very very high up your right leg. The top, including your arms, was green like the forest then it started to mix and fade into a dark amberish color. Then it ombred down into a beautiful bright orange that reminded you of the sunsets back home. Again it felt like you were looking at the leaves changing.

She helped you into orange heels that wrapped up your legs but thankfully had a thick heel. Last but not least she told you to raise your arms as she wrapped a belt around your waist. It perfectly blended in with the color of your dress, and attached was something out of a book. It looked like it belonged to royalty or a goddess, not you.

Behind you was a long tulle train, the tulle barely colored to match the dress where it needed too. But at the bottom was leaves, they started green but turned into rich reds and bright vivid oranges and yellows. Leaf shapes stood out to you, yet again from back home.

Birch, black walnut, black and red maple, northern pine oak and cottonwood leaves. Entwined into the leaves were other plants like fluffy cattails, golden wheat, and pampas grass. The only thing you could recognize that wasn't from your district in the entire outfit was pampas grass. All the flowers, all the leaves, even the berries in the crown were all something that grew in your district.

When she turned you around and you caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror you had to step closer and touch the glass. You couldn't believe this was you, sure you had always been told you were pretty, but this was something else. With just some make up, a good proper shower and some fancy clothes you looked like a goddess. You wanted to cry, but couldn't bear to ruin the hours of work you had just gone through.

Lavanna could tell you were at a loss for words, so she stepped forward, careful of the huge train she had created. She smiled at you in the mirror and spoke softly trying not to spook you. “I decided to go a different direction.. The whole farmers thing is a little played out, plus you volunteered for a young girl. And your friend volunteered to stay with you, so I thought you guys deserved something really special.”

When you spoke, it was a whisper “I look like some type of goddess or something.. Like something out of the books in the district library.” You turned to her when she started chuckling, unsure if she was laughing at you or not but she shook her head. “That's what I was going for. Ceres and Saturn, the Goddess of Grain crop and Agriculture. She was also a fertility goddess but we don't need to get into that. And then Saturn God of abundance, wealth, agriculture and a few other unimportant things. Would you like to go see his outfit?”

You nodded silently, still stunned as you looked at yourself one last time. Then you followed Lavanna out into a hall, then down into an area outside that was full of people in costumes and chariots. You turned away refusing to look at the other tributes as you looked for Hardin. And when he appeared you were just as awestruck by his outfit as you had been by your own. But also by him, because he looked so much healthier than he had before.

Hardin had gladiator sandals on with a toga that was tight to his chest and showing part of it. It was the same colors as yours but without all the filigree. He had a crown of leaves that matched the bottom of your train, it had the same berries and some branches on it. His dark curly hair was shiny and tamed for the first time, probably ever. He was also holding a very sharp looking scythe. He looked like the god that would stand next to you, and in this moment he would.

He stared at you in a daze, watching as the train and the bottom of the dress swished around you. He had always told you that you were beautiful, really one of the best looking girls in your age group back home. But now you really looked beautiful, not sweat covered and exhausted from a day in the fields. Even more tired because you knew you would need to come home and care for your grandparents before getting a few hours of sleep and doing it again. You looked like someone who could actually win.

Finnick watched from the district four chariot. He had to force his jaw not to drop as he turned to the sound of heels clicking. His tributes were already waiting on the chariot, one dressed like a fisher the other like a mermaid. They looked great but nowhere near as breathtaking as you looked.

It literally felt like someone slapped Finnick in the face when you walked in. The color of the dress perfectly sets off your skin tone. Your hair fell in just the right way to frame your face. The makeup was dramatic and made the color of your eyes pop. Whoever was styling you had done a fantastic job, but Finnick knew they had a gorgeous model to work with.

He figured you would have looked beautiful in the normal farmer garb your district normally wore. He watched with slight jealousy as you laughed with the male tribute whose name he learned was, Hardin. Watching with a curious mind as the two of you pointed out leaves on your dress with bright eyes and laughed.

He wished that he could be as carefree as you were in that moment. His thoughts were interpreted by a whack on the head. When he turned rubbing the sore spot Mags was smiling up at him with a knowing look. “You like her don't you.” She said as a statement and not a question.

Finnick shook his head and looked around frantically, “First off, you know not to say things like that. Second, I dont even know her.. I just think..” his voice trailed off as he turned back to look at you. A woman who he assumed was your stylist was flitting around you tapping on things placed in your hair. He watched as small insects began to flutter their wings.

His mouth moved without his brain telling it too, he felt so comfortable around Maggie that the facade he put up every single day outside of his home slipped. “I just think she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” As soon as it was out he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. He had never said something like that, or felt so inclined to talk to someone.

He watched as you and Hardin stepped up onto your chariot, you were now holding a small basket woven into a cornucopia. Your stylist team shoved small flowers and foods into the basket as the main stylist moved the train of your dress to flow behind you. Lavanna held it up with the help of one of the others as your chariot moved. Mags gasped when the wind from the ride caught the ends of your train holding it up. The tulle had folded out giving the effect of leaves and grass flying out behind your chariot. All he wanted was to catch your scent on the air, to feel your warmth radiate around him like the sun.

Taking a step back he forced his brain to remind his hormonal heart that he no longer had the luxury of thinking like that.

He belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. And to the people who threw money away to spend time with him. No matter how disgusting he felt when he crawled into bed at night, it didn't matter. He had people to protect, parents and a friend or two. He couldn't allow himself to feel things towards those he couldn't have.

And he couldn't have you.

PART 2

#finnick x oc #finnick imagine #finnick odair #hunger games finnick

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thewritersplace · 3 months

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Writeblr Intro

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Hello, all!

My name is Kendra, and this is my writeblr introduction. It's a bit simple stylistically, but that's how I am. Now, onto the intro!

I'm currently twenty-six (will be twenty-seven in approximately five months), use she/her pronouns, and am an asexual, demiromantic, biromantic cisgender woman (may as well cover all the bases, right?). I was born and raised in Northern California, spent my undergraduate years in Oregon, and then returned to NorCal, where I still reside.

I have an MA in History, a BA in Religious Studies, and a double minor in History and Psychology.

I've been on this website for over a decade (via my main blog), and have been writing in general for almost fifteen years. I started out with original works, then discovered fanfiction, and worked solely on that for over a decade, before slowly venturing back into original works again. Nowadays, I write both concurrently, though I admittedly do still find fanfiction easier, and my original works often take a backseat to my fics. Yet, somehow, I've ended up with a (current) total of six WIPs — all of which I will introduce you to today.

It's been a long time since I've shared my original works with such a large audience, so I have some natural apprehension, but ultimately I'm looking forward to doing it again.

Now, without further ado, I present my WIPs!

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The Road To Eternity Is Paved With Blood (drafting)

Dracula's Daughter (outlining) (prequel/sequel to Road To Eternity)

The Wrath Of The Vampire Queen (outlining + drafting)

For The Love Of A Goddess (outlining)

The Other Side Of Paradise (outlining)

Red Thread Of Fate: Love In The Modern World (outlining + drafting)

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The Road To Eternity Is Paved With Blood is a Dracula retelling of sorts that was inspired largely by Hellsing, with other snippets of inspiration taken from Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) and Dracula Untold (2014). The story begins in the 1880s, and extends at the very least to the early 1900s. It follows the life and times of Rose Rowan, a beautiful noblewoman, and her relationship with her husband, Vlad Draculea (former Voivode of Wallachia, and member of the House of Drăculești), as they navigate eternity and a life of vampirism together. Her twin brother, Judas, is also featured prominently — as are his experiences with vampirism, which contrasts some with his sister's. Of course, as with every good Gothic novel, there is darkness to be found within this tale. Abraham Van Helsing and his ilk have made it their mission to bring about the end of Vlad Draculea, and anyone connected to him. The challenge in this quest, however, lies in said connections that Vlad has — namely Rose, who will stop at nothing to protect him from the infamous vampire hunter. She will have her fairytale ending, even if it has to be achieved through darker means. For while the road to hell may be paved with good intentions, the road to eternity is paved with blood.

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Dracula's Daughter is a sequel/prequel to the above story, and focuses on Beáta, the daughter of Vlad from one of his late wives. She is also a vampire, and has been living for centuries, though largely on her own. She has lived many lives, and is a worldly young woman, though at the beginning of our story she has come home to Wallachia to see her father again after his most recent remarriage, and to meet his new wife. While she ultimately becomes fond of her new step-mother, she also has to contend with the sinister plotting of some of her father's immortal brides — namely The Queen — who would like nothing more than to rid Vlad of his new wife. Thinking herself as perhaps the only one who can bring peace and stability to the family, Beáta wrestles with who she should side with, or if she should side with anyone at all. There is more to her new step-mother than meets the eye, however, and Beáta soon finds that perhaps she is not as alone in this fight as she thought. In fact, for the first time in centuries, she has someone on her side who will fight with sharp claws and bloodied teeth to make sure such a conflict will never come to pass again.

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The Wrath Of The Vampire Queen is a story somewhat inspired by Dracula Untold (2014), as well as the life and times of Vlad the Impaler. The tale begins in the mid-1400s, where Vlad Draculea and his wife, Senka Slavkov (born Deirdre Delacroix) are navigating the wars and politics of his reign. It then extends well into several of the following centuries, where Senka is still searching for her husband centuries after his disappearance (which occurs some years after his historically recorded death). Her brother, Didier Delacroix (who adopted the name 'Renatus' upon arriving in Wallachia), a dhampir, accompanies her in her search, as they are the only family each has left, and his connections with the Church and various religious organizations consistently prove vital to their search. Senka believes she knows exactly who took her husband — Hungarian and Turkish enemies from his mortal life, now vampires themselves. Didier, however, is not so certain, as some things don't add up. Still, they both believe that Vlad is out there somewhere, and will continue their search until they find him — be it alive or truly dead. If it is the latter, then there will be no saving his former captors from the wrath of Senka Slavkov, the vicious and vindictive Vampire Queen.

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For The Love Of A Goddess is a story set in the present day, and follows two young women — Megara and Zarina — as they navigate their lives as best they can. These two women are the best of friends, and share in many things — including being chosen by two goddesses to be their mortal partners in this iteration of their immortal lives. Megara, a historian and religious studies scholar, caught the eye of Athena, who admired her intellect just as much as her beauty. Zarina, a librarian with a previous background in psychology, attracts the attention of Aphrodite, who finds her beauty to be dazzling, and the depth of her kindness and compassion to be a rare thing in such an egocentric world. While very happy with their respective partners, Megara and Zarina find that being with immortals comes with a variety of challenges — and not just the more obvious ones. Athena and Aphrodite are just two of an endless list of deities who are trying to survive in a growing atheist world, and if they lose this fight, they may very well disappear for good. Not wanting such a thing to occur, all four women come together to try and create a plan to prevent this disappearance from happening — though they face difficulties in the form of other various deities not wanting to band together to save each other from extinction. After all, immortals are just as egocentric as the mortals they so often think of themselves as better than, and much more difficult to persuade. Thus, the four women must not only enact a plan to prevent the extinction of various deities, but also contend with the fact that they may be the only ones in this fight. With time very much not on their side, this group of mortals and immortals must figure out a way to ensure that they do not lose this existential battle, and keep the existence of so many deities alive.

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The Other Side Of Paradise is a retelling of Genesis in some ways, with the focus being on Lilith and Eve, rather than Adam and Eve. It begins in the Garden of Eden, with Eve pondering the idea of a world outside of the garden, and curiosity about her husband's alleged first wife, who had fled Eden long before Eve's creation. Eventually, Eve dared to venture to the edge of the garden, and it was there she saw Lilith. The two spoke over the wall, and met every day thereafter, eventually becoming friends. Lilith tried to get Eve to leave both Eden and Adam, but Eve was just the slightest bit apprehensive. Eventually, after tasting the forbidden fruit from the tree, Eve was expelled from the garden, and Lilith was there to greet her upon her exit. Eve, who was excited by the prospect of seeing the world, happily took Lilith's offered arm, and went off with her. The two spent many eons together, though not always in the same physical forms, as souls eventually begin to outlast bodies. In the present day, their souls have come to reside in the bodies of two young women who have never met, but are destined to find each other — as that is what souls do.

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Red Thread Of Fate: Love In The Modern World is a story about two young women, Shu Nazhi and Zhou Xue Li, who live in similar yet vastly different worlds. Shu Nazhi is a businesswoman who runs her family's company with the help of her older brother, Hou Zhu Zhi, and younger sister, Shu Nuan. Zhou Xue Li is a model, actress, and singer, who is down on her luck when it comes to love. The two are introduced by a mutual friend (Nazhi's foster sister of sorts, and Xue Li's close friend) under the guise of Nazhi being Xue Li's new bodyguard, and become close over the course of Nazhi's assignment. After Nazhi finds herself falling for Xue Li, she turns in her letter of resignation, and then promptly asks Xue Li out upon the latter's acceptance of said letter. Xue Li, already secretly head-over-heels in love, happily accepts, and the two spend the day doing various activities throughout the city. The relationship, blissful as it is, also comes with the complications of things like paparazzi, work commitments, as well as their differing personalities and lifestyles. As the two women navigate these challenges, they begin to wonder about what it would have been like to love each other in a different time, and if they ever did — for they know that the red thread of fate works in mysterious ways, and that some souls are always destined to find each other.

(Disclaimer: Zhou Xue Li was created by/belongs to @bwaldorf, who was kind enough to allow me to use her in my story)

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Tagging @bwaldorf, @veneritia, @helioselene, @moariin, @thewinterwitcher, @socialmediasocrates, @lasbrumas

(Please ask to be added or removed from the taglist)

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#writeblr intro #wtwcommunity

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frenchiefitzhere · 1 year

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oh boy here we go I'm trying a fan song for something other than redacted...

(and it's a way bigger fandom omg omg omg who's gonna hear me now? pffft) This is still a WIP (just one verse) but I wanted to write a song for Anathema. Kind of an internal monologue moment.

[Verse 2 - For Adam]

Which one of the lies that I untold you

Flipped you to the role of taking control?

I went hunting high and low and wondering

How I’d know that in your eyes was a beast to end all time

Little one, save it all but don’t fall

What I meant was start small

Stay a child for a while

At least try

#good omens #frenchie makes musical fan art #anathema device #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanart

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lightning24680 · 4 months

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Childe x depressed gn!reader

Hi guys, another WIP of mine that I was struck by motivation to create. I really need to work on my already started pieces of writing but I can’t so here I am with random fics. Hope you enjoy! Also Happy New Years! Lightning24680~

Everything starts with an idea, an emotion. He was your emotion. He was like the ocean rough and cold a never ending deep of mystery and darkness, and yet he was calm too, he could be comforting like the small laps of the water at your heels as you walk across the beach. You never quite understood how you and him clicked. You were unextraordinary and you quite honestly felt as if you contributed nothing to this earth constantly wondering why you bothered. He was the opposite and yet the same. He was always in the rush of battle, a never ending wave of determination and strength, but his dull blue eyes mirrored the self loathing of your own.

When you two first met it wasn’t true love or anything special, hell it wasn’t even unique, but it was still a moment that was yours.

You were a Fontaine citizen, you loved your books and writing more than you’d ever cared for the drama of a trial, and still you were dragged to his. Seeking inspiration and maybe just a tad bit of real excitement instead of the fantasies created in your mind you took a seat in the plush red seats of the Opera Epiclese. At first nothing struck you as interesting it was merely another debate.

And then the murmurs started and your gaze was drawn up to the shock in the Chief Justice’s eyes as he read aloud a sentence that should have been impossible…guilty. Your gaze was immediately taken to him, with his vibrant ginger hair and the expression of an impatient man on his face. Then the flash of purple and the crimson of his mask, his light grey’s and browns traded for pitch black and, stunning purple with the eye catching blood red.

In that moment intrigue spiked in your heart, motivation in your mind, something you thought had been extinguished long ago rising in your brain. You shifted in your seat practically hanging off the edge, as everyone else watched in horror as the Garde Meks were taken down with the electro currents he’d thrown so carelessly yet precisely, you watched with interest.

And when he was taken down and away defeated you watched in awe at the small and tired grin on his lips, he wants more you realized, and so did you.

You were up and on your feet lightly shoving through the crowds and following the guards before you even realized what you were doing, writers instinct, which you’d long supposed to have left you taking over once again. As you finally caught up with the Garde’s you could only stare as they propped him, the fascination of your interest on a chair before walking a few feet away assuming him harmless, you knew he wasn’t.

As you walked towards him curiosity in your eyes and courage in your steps you noticed how he tensed up as if he sensed your footsteps no matter how quiet. His gaze darted up to yours his dull blue eyes making your breath catch in your throat, untold horrors lied behind those eyes you knew. And then his voice, sounding so very dangerously guarded this close, asked those 3 damning words.

Who are you?

I’m Y/n and you are Tartaglia, you had stated calmly a hint of excitement in your voice, he sensed it of course.

It’s Childe, he replied smoothly his tired body poising itself in a seemingly open way, you could see his walls though. He was a good actor, someone who’d learned to put on the masks of a thousand characters never appreciating his own.

Maybe neither are you if we’re being honest you had replied without thinking. His gaze studied you carefully like he wasn’t sure what mask to put on to appease you, so he brushed you off instead.

Maybe…or maybe your reading into it too deep his low voice tumbled out in a sigh of someone still processing the fact they’re no longer free, but a prisoner of a crime uncommitted, and with an audience of people unable to care.

The Garde’s came back too soon leading him away and with a tilt of your head you noticed the familiar gleam of his vision gone. Curious, you muttered to yourself before turning around to grab your book and head back to your home, the motivation to write had struck you like one of his electro bolts. You hadn’t noticed how dull blue eyes glimpsed back at you a lingering feeling of curiosity showing on his small turn of the lips.

Maybe he’d meet you again, the curious sun peeking through the clouded depths of that murky blue. Yes he would see you again he decided, there was something of an urge to know more, and he wasn’t one to ignore.

Curiosity you decided was the emotion he was. He led to excitement and to something new, and you thought to yourself maybe that’s what you want, and instead of waiting for adventure to find you, you should follow him just to see if the wild call of the ocean is enough to satisfy the sun.

#childe x gn reader #tartagila #ajax genshin impact #fanfic x reader #genshin impact x reader

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cornishpixiez · 2 years

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snippet of the WIP i’m currently writing, the absolute denial of everything is sacred.

(it’s an angsty black brothers modern AU focused on art, religion (and lack thereof), and love, where the brothers got unwillingly split up in their teen years for a very fucked up reason. they spent 14 years without daring to reach out to each other when fate (a.k.a. james) reunites them once again.)

Regulus Black wasn’t a religious person but he used to be, back when he was a child. Everything he did in the past was molded by the fervent devoutness of his mother, the fear of being a sinner, an unworthy son, and whatever you may identify as catholic guilt.

Yes, he used to be catholic but not only that - he was an altar boy, the type that said grace at the table before a meal, someone consumed with guilt that confessed to the smallest sins on Sunday service.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

I opened my eyes midst prayers.

I stayed up late and lied to my mother about it.

I called my brother a bad word.

I dreamt about a boy.

Then, he was a worshipper. But now? Regulus Black became a damned atheist.

Yet, there was one thing that made him feel part of something bigger than himself, something of divine nature that couldn’t be explained by the laws of men. A kind of religiousness that enabled him to lose himself in the totality.

Art. Art was fucking holy.

He’d figured it out at eleven years old, walking through the corridors of the Louvre with his fine arts tutor.

It was a summer day, so hot he felt his dark locks stick to the sweat on his forehead. His clothes - neatly folded by the bed by the time he woke - were not made for this. A set of charcoal gray shorts and a blazer jacket with black tube socks that matched his shoes? It seemed - no, it was like torture.

Not even the air conditioning could relieve the heat, but surprisingly Regulus didn't mind. Something beautiful and profound moved him - the feeling that he could escape into the paintings. Most of them were so large and so full of details; it was like staring at another reality through a window. Powerful emotions were evoked by the enormity of his surroundings. It was, by all means, sublime.

Regulus, at the ripe old age of eleven, thought he had seen it all. But as he slowly walked through the Denon wing along Madam Beauregard, Regulus felt small and insignificant. He felt dumb, in the best way he could possibly imagine.

It was a spiritual experience. A humbling one.

“The nymph and the satyr, by Jean-Antoine Watteau,” Beauregard pointed elegantly with her left hand “This one depicts the story of Antiope, the daughter of King Nycteus of Thebes, who was seduced by Zeus in the form of a satyr.”

Regulus nodded, taking notes on a pocket sketchbook. The Louvre was beautiful with its wide galleries and glass ceilings that filled the room with bright natural lighting. Each paint stroke carried an untold story about the artist behind them. There was love, excitement, fierceness, and passion. Regulus gasped silently, mesmerized by how ethereal a subject could look in the sunlight. He loved how artists painted the sun. Its golden light made everything look warm, and warmness was something magnificent, yet a feeling of foreign nature that Regulus yearned for.

Unlike the paintings, there was no warmness back home.

(english is not my first language so forgive me if there are any mistakes, and pls let me know <3 ok ok bye)

#fic: the absolute denial of everything is sacred #visual artist regulus black #desi james potter #the black brothers #jegulus #james x regulus #sirius orion black #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #remus john lupin #wolfstar #current wip

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gingerteaonthetardis · 1 year

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💋🍉🎀 for the ask, sweetheart!

thank you, my dear!!

💋 when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

here's what i can say—i certainly don't expect an answer, because i've been on the other end of that and felt very guilty for not having the time, energy, or brain power to answer every comment, you know? and i wouldn't want any fic author to feel that pressure, whether it's internal or external.

but—in the middle of active WIPs especially—i think there's a part of me that hopes for answers, particularly when i've put forth theories or asked questions or noticed something that feels important. it's fun to feel like a participant in the story process! but i do tend to comment without any expectation of a reply.

🍉 in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

oh, this is a big old question, isn't it? i'll try not to get too heavy with it, but let's just say... writing has helped me in an untold number of ways, starting with granting me the ability to articulate my thoughts and feelings at all.

growing up around people who didn't really want to hear from me turned me into a consummate liar, a performer in my own life. without the ability to write fiction, i would probably never have begun giving voice to the little truths and fears and joys and sorrows that made up my young life. i would have lied forever.

writing helped me feel less lonely, made me more honest, and it gave me the power to recognize my own feelings by sneaking them into fictional mouths. and this became even more important as i processed darker, more difficult traumas. those don't make it into my stories often, however; some things, i think, are important for me to write and just as important for me to destroy.

🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing.

hm... okay... hey, me! what's up?

anyway, i think you're pretty good at mimicking voices! you've been told your characterization is good over and over in various fandoms, and i think that's because you know how to listen for what makes a character unique. that's a neat skill, which sometimes transfers to real life!

also, some people think you're a funny writer, which is pretty cool, but it doesn't mean you have to wear that clown wig in real life... no, just take it off—

#hope I didn't get too deep there in the middle! it's hard to overstate how important writing is for me though...#deardiary17 #abbey.txt

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

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Innocent Intentions and Lies Untold? (^.^)

Innocent Intentions:

Tao’s Wolf Au! A bit of a cliche bad boy / good girl story, but I’ll put a couple of twists in there for good measure. Not much written down for it yet, but here’s a quote for you:

“I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole. He has player written all over him…. You do realize you’re just a conquest for him, right?”

Lies Untold (Or Histories Untold, I haven’t decided yet):

Luhan’s Wolf Au. I’m keeping a lot of this one close to the chest, but I’ll give you another little quote:

“That what I despise the most. I want to hate you. I want to so badly. But I can’t.”

Ask me about my WIPs!

#Innocent Intentions #Lies Untold #luhan #huang zitao #tao #untamed wolf universe #WIPs

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latent-thoughts · 4 years

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Fresh Tagging List

Dear Readers, I’m sorry to bother you with this, but can you all please inform me (through message or asks, which fics you wanna be tagged in? I’m making a fresh taglist for every WIP I have. So I that I won’t tag people who aren’t interested in reading my fics. Please help me get my tags straightened.

Here are my WIPs; kindly send me the list of fics out of these that you wanna be tagged in:

The Pursuit of a Simple Life

[Loki/OFC; Romance; Fluff; Angst (with a happy ending); False Identity; Collab Work]

Three years after returning to Earth with the other Asgardians following Ragnarok, Loki finds himself working for SHIELD, truly just trying to fight the boredom. While on an undercover mission, he unexpectedly begins to fall for his co-worker Gemma, and she seems to feel the same way…about Dave, his alter ego while in disguise. Can Loki continue a relationship with her while keeping his true identity a secret? How many lies can the ‘God of lies’ spin to keep his pursuit of a simple life? (Not entirely Ragarok compliant, as Thor is a good bro here.)

Warnings: Explicit sexual situations.

Rúnviðr

[Loki/OFC; Loki/Dragon; Action; Adventure; Romance; Suspense; Mystery; OMG THERE’S ONLY ONE BED]

Loki is sent on a mission to find and rescue the missing Vanir crown princess from the forest of untold magics. However, what he finds there baffles him completely. He’s taken captive by a magical dragon, who seems bent on keeping him in her lair, jeopardizing his quest. While Loki tries to forge an uncomfortable alliance with his captor, he cannot help but wonder if the creature was the one to take the princess.

Warnings: Explicit and wild sexual situations; Dragon/Loki sex (but don’t worry, the dragon is sentient).

Ravished by a God

[Loki/Reader; Romance; Action; Adventure; Humor; Kinks; Smut with Plot]

When a God decides to chase you, what do you do? You’re Tony Stark’s employee, living in the famed Stark Tower. One day, you get cornered by the notorious God of Mischief and have a very revealing experience about your own kinks. You get off on being forced into pleasure, and he takes note of that as well… Hence begins your clandestine dance with Loki, who is all too keen to claim you as his and show you all the forbidden pleasures he has to offer. (Based on 2 prompts from Imagine Loki Tumblr.)

Warnings: Non-Con/Dub-Con; Explicit sexual situations; Kinks galore.

Thirst

[Loki/OFC; Romance; Humor; Fluff; Adventure; Smut with Plot]

Post-Avengers AU, where Loki has been sent to Earth on probation, to be a consultant to SHIELD and take part in inter-realm missions. Loki and OFC get stranded on a harsh arid planet after completing their mission, and their only option is to wait for a rescue. In the meantime, they run out of food and water. While Loki can survive without sustenance, she cannot, and she has to rely on a rather unconventional source of sustenance for her survival - Loki’s cum. And Loki is very conflicted about this.

Warnings: Explicit sexual situations; Dub-Con (Loki’s side).

Fear and Other Related Emotions

[Loki/OFC; Action; Adventure; Romance; Angst (with a happy ending); Fluff; Kinks; Smut with heavy Plot; Thor-Loki sibling relationship; Loki makes frens]

Loki has an interesting encounter with a psychologist during his stay on the hellicarrier. She tries to engage him in conversation, and he tries to, well, create mayhem. She thinks she’d be rid of him after that, but no, it was only the beginning. They end up more intimately intertwined than any of them could have expected, leading Loki on a journey of self-discovery… a journey laden with trials and challenges.

Warnings: Explicit sexual situations, minor scenes dealing with trauma and implied torture (ref: Loki’s time with Thanos).

Loki and the Minion

[Loki/OFC; Humor; Romance; Employer-Employee Relationship; Loki Rules Midgard; King Loki; UST; Awkwardness]

Loki hires OFC as a manager and his guide to everything Midgardian. He doesn’t make it easy for her, though. He causes trouble, doesn’t listen to her advice very often, and in general, annoys and intimidates her. He is the God of Mischief, and she the nearest target available to him. However, slowly, his mischief towards her becomes more intimate in nature, and keeping everything professional becomes rather impossible.

Warnings: Explicit sexual situations.

That wasn’t the plan!

[Loki/Many Women; Loki/Natasha Romanoff; Sex Pollen Trope; Kinks; Smut; Humor; Adventure]

Based on a prompt posted at Imagine Loki Tumblr- Imagine Loki’s biology making it so that when he lands on Earth, his pheromones make everyone around him uncontrollably horny. His plans for world domination might end up in a different way than he planned. Stuttgart would be epic, with people literally jumping him right and left.

Basically, Loki fudges up his magic spell and it causes his Jotun biology to act up. He ends up, well, surrounded by a lot of women (a lot!). Not the plan he had in mind when he came down to conquer Midgard.

Warnings: Dub-Con (Loki’s Side); Explicit sexual situations.

Bugsy’s Lucky Day

[Loki/OFC; Kinks; Smut; Adventure; Crazy Situations; Dark Humor; Collab Work]

Loki lands on Sakaar and immediately finds himself in the clutches of the Grandmaster’s kind of - sort of adopted daughter-Bugsy. She’s a chimera of different creatures (with a petite body, diaphanous wings, enormous eyes, and certain other peculiarities). And she’s also a mad scientist to boot, bent on experimenting on Loki in many crazy (and sexual) ways.

Warnings: Non-Con/Dub-Con (mostly Loki’s side); Explicit sexual situations; Kinks galore; Sexual slavery.

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mysticstarlightduck · 2 months

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'Allo! I adore weird ideas, so 38 and 39 for the Writer's Ask Game? :D

Thank you so much for the Ask, @blind-the-winds!

38. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

I don't know if this necessarily counts as a weird idea but here it goes, regardless!

I have recently been haunted by the idea of a "magical boarding school" kinda story, except instead of a boarding school it is some kind of secret ancient mansion (its more like a college??? I have no idea what this place is like, but bear with me) where teenage /young adults "monsters" and mythical beings can attend, while they avoid being discovered by regular humans. This WIP's world is somehow inspired by 18th-century France, early 20th-century New York and something else that I'm not quite sure??? I'm still on the "no thoughts, just vibes" stage of this WIP. I know that one of the main characters is the ghost of a young witch who died in the 1600s, the other is a vampire and I'm still unsure of who the other cast members will be.

Since I already have a lot of WIPs, I'm archiving this story for when I finish the first drafts of Enchanted Illusions, Of Starlight and Beasts and Lies Untold.

39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had

Tough question! I guess my "weirdest character award" has to go to one of the Chroniclers in the archive tower of the High Council, from Enchanted Illusions. They're living manifestations of the building itself and the magic within it, and even I am not sure what they really are. I just know they're weird. They're unbelievably tall, hooded figures, slightly spectral figures with their true faces obscured by intricate porcelain masks that resemble theater masks. They guard and organize the knowledge of generations of Councilors and their studies, discoveries and books. Their cloaks are also a part of their being and can turn into giant, inky, raven-like wings to take them up and down and across the mindbreakingly gigantic, bottomless halls of the scroll archive tower when requested. They're also inexplicably eerie and no one knows where they're neutral, good or evil beings, and no one sticks around long enough to "fuck around and find out"

#writing #writeblr #writers #asked and answered!#ask games! (:#character writing #writers on tumblr #my wips #my characters #my writing #writerblr #asked and answered

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 4 years

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2020 SU Fic Sampler - WIP Showcase

So in my continued attempts at distraction, I trawled through my SU fanfic folders, looked at the ol’ endless WIP pile. Figured I’d do a little roundup of some that are in something resembling a decent state. Maybe even see where interest lies and all that, get some attention and validation, you know, all that good stuff one craves. Of course, there’s loads more than this, and I might one day post some things I wrote but never quite managed to finish up, or that got super jossed in ways I couldn’t get myself to work around.

Now, in no particular order, here’s 8 draft snippets totaling almost 6000 words - not very polished, obviously, some quite rough around the edges, some long, some short, some that work better without context than others. But here they are anyway, with an utterly predictable array of focal characters. Any missing segments or my asides/notes in the text are [written like this], because I usually write very non-linearly. Hope you all like mood whiplash!

P.S. I live for comments.

Like Talking To A Wall, aka Bismuth making friends with the wall, statue, and floor Gems. Early precursors to radicalisation and “I would have liberated everyone”, perhaps. Started as one of my first reactions to the Diamond Days episodes.

“Hey, thanks for listening.”

“Anytime. You’re lucky I’m so supportive,” Mica piped up from up on her arch.

Bismuth laughed. Bittersweet. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

Then, with a surprisingly gentle hand pressed to the carvings she’d been so careful about, she added a soft: “I’ll miss you.”

“Chin up! It’s gonna be a lovely off-planet adventure for you,” Granite rumbled from just above her head. “A brand new colony! Think of the sights!”

“You can tell us all about it when we see you again.”

Bismuth leaned back, pressing her whole back against the wall, reluctant to leave, even if a snooty shift supervisor was bound to come around and chase her off soon. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to do that.”

They all knew very well that, as always, when the building was done, it was goodbye. The chances of there being a need for repairs or remodelling - and the exact same bismuths being brought in to do them - were incredibly slim.

But pretending was nice, sometimes.

Hey, Steven, think I could get a moment before we leave? I won’t be long.

They were right where she’d left them, and the years had done very little to change them. A bit of a patina there, some dust, the tiniest bit of wear on sharper corners.

“Bismuth?” Several familiar voices cried out to her in shocked recognition.

She knew she must look a sight - battle-ready and battle-worn, but armour still gleaming, and with a bearing of one who had been through much and was always ready for more. She felt her back had never been so proud and straight, her shoulders so resolutely set.

“I think,” Bismuth grinned, “you’re gonna start seeing changes around these parts.”

---

One for that favourite Pearletariat/Pearl Solidarity fic sub-genre of mine: Clever Pearls Cleverly Getting Around Badly Worded Orders. A bit of an origin for an as-of-yet unnamed pearl OC, because I sure don’t have enough of those!

In the untold thousands of years of Homeworld and Gemkind, and the hundreds of thousands of commands given to hundreds of thousands of pearls, nobody ever thought to Order a pearl not to think. That would imply a they mattered at all, and who would ever put stock in a pearl’s thoughts? Most Gems weren’t sure pearls could think, anyway. I mean, if they could, all that standing around would be intolerable, wouldn’t it? And imagine not being able to say no to anything, even crushing your own gem - shards, at least I’m not a pearl!

They were, occasionally, when dealing with an owner’s important, private, confidential business, Ordered to forget, or, a bit less esoterically, Ordered never to tell.

And [OWNER] has always been all too eager with the Orders. As if she went to bizarre lengths in her thinking that pearl couldn’t - or wouldn’t? - do anything upon merely being told, let alone by herself. Every little thing, from sweeping up the shards of a broken decorative plate to taking down the minutes of an important meeting [OWNER] was presiding over - (im)pressed upon pearl with the crushing weight of an Order.

But she could still think.

Even when Ordered to wait by the door, freezing her limbs and anchoring her legs to the ground with all the force of a starship mooring mechanism. Even when Ordered into silence for days and planetary rotations on end because [OWNER] had wanted to read an important document without being disturbed and it simply didn’t occur to her to lift it when she was done.

In the wake of the Rebellion and the Renegade Pearl, it only gets worse, and soon enough pearl can barely remember the last time a single movement she made was voluntary.

---

SU Future-era Bismuth and Steven convo I scribbled down in between some of these recent eps - after Growing Pains in particular I think - because Bismuth is the absolute pep talk queen.

“You already said you were sorry for trying to kill me in the Forge, and really, it’s okay, it was all a misunderstanding. Besides, it’s more than a lot of people have done!”

Bismuth blinked at the pinkish sheen around Steven’s cheeks, around the downturned brows - strange trick of the light, that. “Steven, come on. Just listen to me for a minute.”

“Okay,” Steven sighed, and leaned against the railing Bismuth had fixed just that morning.

“Point is, for me, the war had never ended. It wasn’t only yesterday, it was today. It was over for everyone, it seemed, except for me. And getting over that, getting used to that, really seeing that as the truth, not living every day buzzed up with that anticipation of the next battle, just waiting for Homeworld to come down hard on us with whatever new horror they’d come up with… that took a while. And it took help.”

[sudden apparent non-sequitur but It’s An Allegory, Steven.]

“When you make a sword, you can’t make it rigid and unyielding. You can’t just temper it into toughness and hardness and make it unbreakable. It needs to have some give in order to be durable, it needs to be able to bend so as not to shatter on impact. And sure, maybe the first parry or strike wouldn’t be the one to do it, but the tenth, the hundreth, the thousandth? Any time you might just find yourself holding on to a hilt with the jagged remnants of everything, and shards scattered on the ground. And if you’re very lucky, that’ll happen during friendly sparring, not in the heat of battle.”

Steven shrugged without response, and seemed to be shrugging off all the words as well. Back to the direct approach it was, then.

“Now you, Steven,” that at least got a bit more attention, “Sure, you can brawl with the best of ‘em, and you put that gem to damn good use. You’ve got great technique drilled in, too - I’d expect nothing less from one of Pearl’s students. But that’s not how you won, in the end, is it? You never won because you were tough, or strong. You have a diamond in you but you’re not hard at all. Well, except on yourself.”

“In the end all of this was possible because you were soft. Just malleable and pliable enough when it was needed. And that takes guts.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Bismuth put a hand on his shoulder, and even with all the very human growing he’d done, he still seemed to almost disappear in it. “You put yourself out there for others… maybe it’s about time you let them help you.”

---

The next chapter of the His Dark Materials/Daemons AU which I am sooooo painfully late with it’s not even funny anymore. Already posted some excerpts [here] and [here].

“She’s been... away on business, but we’ve sent a zeppelin for her and she’s well on her way back. Hopefully.”

“You have a zeppelin?” Rose was rapidly failing in all her efforts to keep her voice down.

“Of a sort. We, er, we... stole it.”

“Stole-!”

“Yes, well, stole might be a strong word,” Pearl tapped a finger against her chin. “You see, there was a small decommissioned postal craft left below the southern mail station aërodock that nobody would ever miss, all I had to do was fix it up a bit and-”

Rose blinked. “You fixed a decommissioned zeppelin.”

Pearl waved a hand almost casually. “I had some help, but yes. Svalbard, understandably, is hard to reach with other means of transport, and Bismuth needed to be able to go back and forth.”

“You,” Rose began, awed, “are utterly wasted on bringing me my slippers, I’ll tell you that.”

“Well then, maybe,” Pearl blushed, but there was nothing hesitant about her smirk and the strikingly proud tilt of her head, “maybe you could take them off with a bit more care than kicking them halfway across the room and sending them off under the cabinets and- and then I wouldn’t need to do that at all. And I could fix all the zeppelins in the world.”

[more from the super secret backroom rebellion meeting]

“They’re with the Consistorial Court of Discipline, no doubt. Always on the lookout for,” Bismuth grimaced, “heretics. A lot falls under that. A lot of good excuses to snatch someone off the street and do who knows what to them. And they’ve been funneling people there, people vanished by the CCD. Not lacking in test subjects lately.”

“How did you get this? Where?” It was Sapphire, this time. Ruby seemed overwhelmed, and sat clutching her hand desperately as the tiny frog and hare both whispered something to her.

“We traced the funding for all this. It was difficult and deliberately obfuscated, but we managed. A facility like this, an entire operation, cost a pretty amount, you’d assume - and you’d be right. It had to come from somewhere. And whoever was paying for it was likely to want to know what was being done with their investment.”

“So we followed the trail. And it turned out I was… ideally positioned to… to, erm, procure what evidence there was to be found. Because, well...” Pearl trailed off, and lifted one of the stolen report sheets for all to see.

It was as clear as day, the family crest right above the astronomical amount being granted. Four diamonds, neatly arranged.

Neshu’s ears were flat against his mane, and Rose found herself wishing the ground would simply open up and swallow both her and him and the chair that she sat on and he’d tried to duck under.

Bismuth spoke up, grim, every drop of earlier exuberance gone from her. “When the Diamonds look out from the windows of their mansion, they don’t see people. They see tools, toys, and weapons. Nothing else.” She sounded more tired than angry. “It’s just what they’ve always been doing, but writ large.”

---

And then, of course, the Longass PearlRose Fixit because I hate the gag order but at the same time want it gone… slowly and organically. Alternating Rose and Pearl POVs spanning throughout the rebellion era, all sorts of flashbacks and Imagining Things included. At one point they end up attempting to essentially jailbreak Pearl, because Pearl is, as we all know, absolutely the most hardcore. Also thank you SU Movie for confirming all the awful Alexa-flavour fanon/headcanons and giving me an excuse to dive into a bunch of Gems-as-AI tropey stuff, on top of everything. [another previously posted fragment here]

“I don’t want to. I never want to do that to you again.” She stops, takes a breath, reconsiders. “And I know it’s a lot to ask of you, the trust I just… trampled over. So I want to make sure that it’s not just that, you trusting me not to make the same mistake again, with no reassurance anywhere. I—I want to not be able to. Nobody should be able to do that to you.”

“Nobody should be able to do that to anyone,” Pearl corrects readily.

“You’re right,” Rose smiles, only a bit wry, “as always. My brilliant, brilliant Pearl. What would I do without you?”

“Never get back to the point you were trying to make, I imagine,” Pearl quips with something resembling sauciness, and Rose feels at least some of the weight starting to lift off her.

“Right,” Rose agrees, chastised, and tries to focus. “I just… I’m not sure how, or what I need to do at all. It’s not like there’s much precedent – ownerless pearls are unheard of. Even when their owners get shattered, it’s only ever temporary, and, with such high demand, very brief.”

Pearl nods in agreement, and hums. “Luckily, we’ve seen plenty of unheard of and unspeakable things here.”

[echoes of Scabbard convo]

“I want to know, I want to be certain, that you’re here because you want to be.”

“So do I.” Pearl responds quietly, letting their fingers entwine.

[Giving an order not to follow orders doesn’t work, failsafes exist. Then they try a sort of ownership transfer thing, and try to make the new owner Pearl. It doesn’t register, “invalid transfer target”, even when Pearl tries to hack it - some odd gem tool that scans and pokes at her gem - she gets all bummed out because she can’t even reprogram a very basic and modifiable handheld tool/device to recognise a pearl as an actual gem and person. What chance does she have against hearts and minds and an entire ingrained culture of an entire sprawling empire?

“You changed my mind,” says Rose all softly and earnestly.

Have I really? Pearl asks herself but doesn’t let it escape out loud. Still. Step by small step, she admits to herself. Incremental, slow, but persistent work. She can do that. Even as down on herself as she is, she can do that.]

“The… the override.” Pearl breathes out suddenly.

“What?”

“The administrative override - you, or, well... Pink Diamond should be able to trigger it, even without a Rejuvenator. We shouldn’t…” Pearl looks strangely scared now, swallowing small gulps before pushing onwards, hands trembling and fingers knotting together, “w-we shouldn’t need a full reset, really, but. But we can try modifying the owner identification...”

Having to… turn into Pink again (turn back into yourself, you mean, a small voice whispers, who are you trying to fool) doesn’t sit well with her, of course, but. Get a hold of yourself, Pearl certainly has it so much worse in this scenario.

[more here about how they both need to kind of “revert” a bit to try this and it sucks, because no! unpleasant poking of holes in the elaborate fantasy! For the greater good, but still.]

And oh, Pearl looks just about ready to either cry with some strange terror Rose has never seen her display, or dissipate her form on the spot - the small dam of coldly throwing around terms like administrative override activation and owner identification variable providing just enough distance for her to carry on.

“It shouldn’t be too risky if we’re… if you’re careful.”

[Pearl trusts her with everything, her literal entire self - with this thing that is such a blatant violation of her being and her person, that she now wants to turn against itself, using one of the most humiliatingly clearly objectifying aspects of her status as an instrument of her liberation. It is all A Lot.]

Rose remembers, also, with a sting, the way she grumbled and sulked over the gaping pit of guilt in her stomach and refused to even look at the glowing, floating shell Blue was so insistently pushing her towards. She wanted her Pearl back, not whatever White and the others had decided to foist upon her now. Not a pale replacement, nothing they deemed suitable.

“Please state preferred customisation options.”

“Come on, Pink,” Blue urges, softly but mercilessly as ever, large hands enveloping Pink almost whole from where they’re planted on her shoulders, “White had her specially made, just for you! And we helped as well - only the best for our Pink. Now it’s up to you to put your finishing touches, as is proper-”

“What for? You’ll just take her away when you feel like it anyway,” she grumbles into her arms, curling up on the floor and resolutely refusing to look even as the glow spreads from the corner of her eye, insistent.

Just as insistent as the awfully familiar little voice. “Please state preferred customisation options.”

“I. Don’t. Care!” But now with a newly noticeable, if strained restraint - not, like her usual, punctuated with a slam of her fist on the floor tiles, perfectly shiny and pink. No, she couldn’t- do something like that again-

“Default setting selected. Please stand by.”

Yellow scoffs and moves to leave. “Come on, Blue. No point to us wasting our time being here if she’s just going to throw one of her tantrums.”

But Blue refuses to leave it at that, and makes sure to cut with parting words, before slinking through the large pink doorway. “I am very disappointed in you, Pink. To act like that, and with White personally making sure you got such a lovely gift even after everything...”

“Waste of good nacre, if you ask me,” Yellow muses from somewhere up above. “At least try not to break this one.”

The glow intensifies with a hum, and Pink screws her eyes shut and pretends not to see or hear anything.

By the time she opens them again, the others are gone.

But then there is another presence at her side, hovering just behind, as is proper court protocol. The shuffling of tiny, soft slippers on the polished stone - weren’t pearls supposed to be endlessly, effortlessly quiet?

“Leave me alone,” she preempts quietly. The shuffling moves away.

“Please identify yourself.”

Calmly, now, calmly but firmly, just like we planned it. Don’t mess this up now. She’s counting on you. She trusts you. “Pearl.”

“Please state preferred customisation options.”

They’ve discussed this too, of course - extensive (over)preparation and planning down to minutiae is Pearl’s go-to at the best of times, and something she clutches at for comfort at the worst of times. And she’s always, to a sometimes comical extent, despised that ridiculous dress. To a wonderful extent, too, all things considered.

“Revert to last implemented appearance.”

“Settings selected. Please stand by.”

[Of course this doesn’t work because all it does is change the $username$ variable, not the actual identity of the person imprinted: it’s still Rose/Pink, she’s just nicknamed “Pearl” now, but she can still give orders and everything.]

[evolves into Pearl literally hacking herself… the most hardcore of modders]

---

Pearl Playing the Field aka “why not hyper-analyze that one brief shot of the notes and phone numbers in Pearl’s gem and write 9 meet-cutes”. Pearl goes out to “find herself”. Whatever that is supposed to mean. Supposed to be set pre-ASPR, but also extends past it. Ended up with some Bispearl in it too because I am predictable and can absolutely not help myself.

“Your hair is wonderful!” She feels like she almost has to shout to be heard over the din of the bar’s ill-chosen soundtrack, and she doesn’t appreciate it. Definitely not one of her favourite places she’s decided to visit recently. And the ventilation is atrocious.

But still, she’s come all this way, so she may as well make the best of it. And while the preoccupation with hairstyles during first meetings seems like a bit of an odd running theme (can it really be termed a running theme, though, if it’s happened all of two times?), it’s certainly worked in the past (recent, very recent, and hardly bursting with relevant instances, Pearl!). Oh, and this particular one is just too fascinating. Approaching a work of art, Pearl would dare say. Especially, well. Especially when paired with the lovely eyes and striking jawline and strong neck it seems to deliberately be drawing attention to.

Pearl leans on the bar, in the bit of space the woman happily makes for her, and tries to look confident and well-informed, but not smug, no, never smug. “I know... about the, uh, goop, of course. I know how one accomplishes this.”

The woman gives a bemused smile. “Thanks! Not too shabby yourself.” She leans in closer. “I'm actually in school for it.”

“School?” Pearl casts desperately back to what she's heard from Steven and Greg's often hasty instruction. That was for educating human children, wasn't it? She'd put one together for Steven that one time, with desks and a blackboard… and Connie attended one regularly...

“Yeah, kind of a late game career change.” Pearl nods along as she realises - or, rather, remembers - she is absolutely terrible at gauging human ages. “But I thought... after almost 30 years in accounting and not going anywhere I wanted to be going... it’s not like we have all the time in the world, right? So I figured, why not? Go for something I'm actually invested in and that I've always wanted to do, y'know?”

“Oh. Oh yes, yes I do.” And for once, she really does. Well, not the time-related bit, perhaps, but the very particular delight of getting to pursue one’s genuine interests after a long while of being denied? Absolutely. “I’ve done something of the sort myself, actually. Go for it! As they, uh, say.”

The dramatic gesture of almost punching the air with a closed triumphant/defiant fist might have been a tad over the top, but it wins her a smile that doesn’t seem unkind. The woman winks and tips her glass at Pearl, then finishes her drink - something sweet-smelling and almost as colourful as her hair.

“I had a classmate do this one for me, and I did hers after.” Pearl is nodding along again, leaning in to hear better as the woman’s voice dips lower. “I kind of like to experiment, push the limits, go wild with it. Hey. You interested? Promise I won’t go too wild on you.”

Pearl's mind goes blank there for a moment. The woman is… very close, and there are unignorable implications unrelated to hair styling so obvious here even she is picking up on them without issue, and the music hasn’t gotten any quieter. Interested in what, exactly, she wants to ask, but she came here for wild new experiences and exciting novelty, didn’t she, so instead comes out with a rather strangled-sounding: “Eughhhhh...uhhh.... Ye...s?”

The woman’s expression goes serious. “Hey, come on, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

---

Forge Showdown AU - aka in a twist of fate Bismuth poofs Rose during their confrontation and revelations happen that change the course of… well, pretty much everything - one of a bunch of AUs where the PD reveal happens earlier and under different circumstances (I had an idea of doing a 5+1 of those at one point).

The glow of the lava coloured the quickly dissipating smoke more orange-red than pale pink, and Bismuth stared numbly at where their revered leader, Rose Quartz herself, had been standing mere moments ago. She’d lashed out, true, but she hadn’t really been expecting the clumsy blow - more of a warning, or underlining a point in their continued argument-turned-fight - to land. In all their many sparring sessions, Rose had never succumbed to something like that, would have never so much as let it brush against her. But she’d been- frozen, distracted… by what?

There, scraping softly against the ground as it rolled with leftover momentum...

That was not a rose quartz gem.

Bismuth raked her mind feverishly, thought back through the last few, oddly blurred seconds.

“We’re not using this, Bismuth! It’d make us just as bad as them!”

“No! You’re the one who’s as bad as them- look at you, lording over all of us, thinking it’s your right to command me, order me around, like you’re, what, my diamond?”

It… it had to be some kind of imposter, or spy. Right? Some kind of… awful Homeworld plan, trying to tear the Rebellion apart from the inside. Where was Rose, then? The real one? Captured? Being interrogated somewhere, her whereabouts kept strictly secret to minimise the chance of rescue? Shattered? Impossible, they’d never hear the end of the victorious crowing.

When could it have happened? The last few battles and meetings had been nothing out of the ordinary, and Bismuth couldn’t think of anything odd or off about Rose recently at all. Not a single hint or sign that anything was amiss. Not a single misstep. Homeworld would have trained and conditioned its agents well, but Rose- Rose was singular, and utterly one-of-a-kind, and how could they possibly capture all of it so perfectly-

Bismuth startled out of her thoughts as the beginnings of light seemed to gather in the core of the gem, and all but threw herself onto it, encasing it in a bubble.

Rose was rather special, wasn’t she? And not just in what she said or what she did or how she behaved or what she led and encouraged them to do, but…

Her endless array of wondrous powers. Her sheer strength, overpowering ruby fusions and quartz battalions alike almost single-handedly. The healing which Bismuth herself had been on the receiving, lifesaving end of countless times. The way she called upon the organic creatures of the planet to fight for her, fighting in their name. And then, her regular absences. The way she seemed to know exactly what the Homeworld troops were up to - that wasn’t just some kind of tactical brilliance.

She dared to look at the gem again. Its hue was changed some by the bubble, but that was still in no way a rose quartz gem. No, it was an altogether different shape, but a terrifyingly familiar one.

But it made no sense!

Bismuth ran a slightly trembling hand down her face.

Pearl. Of course, Pearl would have to know, if anyone. About… whatever this was.

But if this, if she was… her, then Pearl-

Bismuth’s insides twisted in horrible ways as the implications began to flitter through her mind, each one worse than the one before it. There was the old call-and-response ringing in her ears, making her feel disoriented and sick with what had to be the beginnings of anger, could grow into a great fury, leaving her unnecessary breaths ragged: Who do you belong to? Nobody!

But-

Not Pearl, then. At least, not at first. Garnet. Garnet would know, and Garnet could See. They’d get to the bottom of this.

---

A metric ton of rebellion era ficlets, vignettes from my eeeEEeeEEeeEEE Bismuth collection mostly, which I’ve been accumulating since 2016 and have only posted some - Pearl, Rose, Garnet, Bismuth centric, occasionally with my takes on namedropped characters, some of which would now need an update to match actual canon.

Snowflake was there, held in Garnet’s arms. The familiar pattern of white speckles on black skin, the tight silver coils of hair sticking out every which way.

“We got her back. She wanted to see you.”

“Me? And you just listened to her? Are you out of your mind? How can I help? Have you taken her to Rose? If her gem- if she-”

“I’m right here!” Snowflake struggled out of Garnet’s hold, and stood up - wobbly, barely upright, but determined, on those legs that ran circles around Homeworld, and ran interference and messages faster than any Wailing Stone, in a pinch. “And I’m fine!”

“You don’t look fine, Snowy- listen, please just-”

Snowflake walked up to her, not stumbling a single time, and, gritting her teeth, looked right at her. The hairline fractures in her gem were visible from here, and Bismuth couldn’t help a wince. “Snowflake, come on-”

“I didn’t tell them anything.”

Bismuth wanted to clutch her to her chest and scream a thousand things at her, but You don’t have to prove anything to me and I’m proud of you and I’m going to make them pay for ever laying a finger on you all waged a war in her throat.

In the end she just settled on holding her close, very gently, until Garnet left, unheard, and came back with Rose, tears already in abundance.

[Later:] “I never properly thanked you, Garnet. For bringing Snowflake back.”

Garnet shrugged. “It was a group effort.”

A familiar voice sounded at the entrance to the Forge. “Now come along, it’s just here. Bismuth? Do you have a moment?”

“You know I always have time for you, Pearl,” she called back, putting her current project away. “What did you nee- oh.”

Bismuth blinked.

“Uh... wow,” was the only thing she could manage as pearl after pearl filed into her Forge, soon taking up most of the space around the anvil in impressively neat rows. “New recruits? A whole bunch of you, too.”

“Yes, well,” Pearl made her way to the front of the group, carefully avoiding brushing against the others on her way. She was fidgeting again, long fingers tangling and untangling rapidly, and that was one sure sign of mounting distress. “Garnet and I had planned out an attack on one of Blue Diamond’s supply lines. There was supposed to be a shipment of weapons coming in today, but it turns out it was… pearls.”

There was something rather off about Pearl’s tone, too. Bismuth made a note to ask later, and do her best to catch her alone.

“Well, all the better for us. Nice to have you all on board.” Her jovial tone was only slightly forced - the pearls all looked like they clearly needed something resembling friendliness, but their skittishness was palpable. She turned towards a pale green pearl right at the front of the group. “Now, what do I call you?”

There was nothing but mild confusion, vague fear, and general quiet shuffling. “No ideas yet? Don’t worry about it! There’s plenty of time to decide and find something that fits.”

[she does indeed manage to talk to Pearl alone, later]

“What’s the real problem, Pearl? You can’t fool me. I can tell something’s wrong.”

The rather flimsy front finally crumbled at that.

“I just… we- we took out the citrines they’d sent with the shuttle, and Garnet boosted me up so I could force the hatch open and I did, but then...” Pearl let out a distressed little half-sigh half-sob, one hand gesturing weakly. “They were all looking at me so wide-eyed and...”

She took a moment to at least attempt to collect herself.

“I don’t mind having them here, it’s not that at all. It’s just that… we were standing there, with all these newly-made pearls and… obviously I couldn’t just leave them there, in the middle of nowhere! And after what we did, whoever found them, they’d just have them shattered. Because of me. They were compromised. You’ve heard what they do now, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. They’re the monsters, Pearl, and it’s not on you. It’s not you doing that to pearls, it’s them.”

“But it is on me! It quite literally is because of me, because of what I did, and continue to do. I made myself visible and played at being important and look what it got us,” Pearl was near tears, a frustrated blue colouring her face, “a handful of runaways and the rest being treated worse than ever.”

The tears were out in full force after that, and Bismuth put an arm around Pearl’s shaking shoulders. “Hey, hey, none of that.”

“We ended up taking them with us, but it feels like… it feels like I forced them to come here. Is it really any better than what Homeworld does? All I did was say you’re going to be rebels instead of you’re going to serve and they never got a say in anything.”

“Have you asked them?”

“They don’t know what-”

“Hey. Just ask them, okay? Ask them what they want. We can help them either way. Of course I’d love them to stay. But it’s not up to me, and if they want to go to wherever it was they were supposed to go- we can do that, too.”

[Rose discovers her healing tears in a dramatic fashion - they come up with the idea to make the fountain - and thanks to Save the Light we have a pretty good idea of who lovingly made all those statues]

She gently wiped away some of the chiselling dust with the flat of her thumb, just like a tear. A magnificent, healing, life-giving tear.

This was familiar work. But with none of the endless chafing, none of the hated reminders of her former station - Bismuth couldn’t find anything in herself but reverence. And… inspiration. She was a Gem, stars knew she didn’t need rest, breaks, anything of the sort, but still - this pace wasn’t something she’d felt driven to in a long, long while. All day under the burning summer sun, and every night under the light of her own gem. All alone, as the sanctuary took form under her hands.

To get the curls just right, tiny detail by tiny detail, somehow communicate the softness of those cheeks in stone… it took drawing upon the very depths of her well of skill, because how else could she ever hope to capture the likeness of someone as extraordinary as Rose Quartz?

With small, careful movements, she formed the roundness of the lips that could spit fiery words of rebellion, inspire like no other, scowl fiercely in the heat of battle, smile contagiously, bellow out an outrageous fireside guffaw, murmur comforts so softly, kiss…

And then she did it again, and again, and again.

[in the end, Rose is presented with a veritable shrine to herself]

“Rose? Is something wrong? You… don’t like it?”

“No, no, Bismuth, it’s… it’s incredible.” The smile Rose turned on her was as beautiful as anything, but it wasn’t hard to notice it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

#steven universe #oathkeeper writes things #INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO:#pearl #bismuth #rose quartz #bispearl #pearlrose #daemon au #the pearletariat #pearl playing the field #those stars of brightest magnitude #let's get down to bismuth #steven universe future #i love pearls just... bury me in a big pile of pearls honestly #endless wip pile #fanfiction #my fic

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hope-for-olicity · 4 years

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - February 14th, 2020

Happy Friday and HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them. This and all previous Fabulous Olicity Fanfic posts can be found on my blog. Please reblog and share these awesome writers’ works!

I Saw Him Standing There by @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Felicity is on her own raising baby Mia doing the best that she can when she gets some unexpected surprise guests that change the course of everything. What I would have liked to have seen happen post-crisis. Oliver and Felicity and their entire family deserved better than what they got. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564942

It's a Long Story by @lupin72 - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Oliver and Felicity both tell various people the story of some firsts in their relationship. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190649619361/its-a-long-story

Once Upon a Valentine's by @spaztronautwriter - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - strange mix of fluffy and angst https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190655040450/once-upon-a-valentines

The Last Words I Could Never Say (Gonna Come Out Anyway) by @lucyyh - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - It takes place in 2008, during the holidays. It’s an AU, mostly fluff with a side of feelings. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190655453637/hi-redpensandhoodies-this-is-my-little-gift-for

Love in an Elevator by @jennonthewire - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Another way Oliver and Felicity could have met, involving elevators and mistaken identity. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190656280505/love-in-an-elevator

Dancing Around the Lies We Tell (Convergence) multi-chapter Complete by @allimariexf - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - The anonymous hacker who’d been helping Oliver Queen in his mission had first contacted him seven months ago, though “contacted” hardly felt like the right term. He’d arrived at the foundry and booted up his computer one night only to find the entire system had been upgraded, and simple text document saved to the desktop: I’m truly stunned that no one managed to trace the redistribution of Adam Hunt’s funds back to you. No one else, I mean. She certainly had a way with words, and in their months together she’d often surprised him with her uncannily insightful observations. Before he realized it, she had come to haunt his thoughts. Who was she, in her normal life? He was resigned to never knowing. His life was his mission, and there was no room for anything else. Or so he told himself. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593223/chapters/53993044

Helplessly Wrecked multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue - A very smart, passionate, woman. Worked to get her dual masters from MIT, it may have taken longer being a mother of triplets but at least she has her mother’s support. Oliver Queen still has a yacht incident and was marooned for shorter time frame on a real deserted island. He never flunked out of his Ivy League schooling and is a very sought-after bachelor. His relationships never last more than half a year and is known to throw himself into his work. His motto ‘work hard plays harder’. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194103/chapters/45628978

Routines by @swiftletinthecloud - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - how a missed routine leads to an awesome meet cute https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190655450823/routines

2315 N. Highbury Ave. multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue - Overnight Felicity becomes homeless and she keeps this from Oliver because their friendship is strained and he’s already stressed out enough. Its only a matter of time that some bottled-up feelings will come to the surface. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447388/chapters/51108508

Make it Home (I'm Still Here) by @sparklesannie - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Wanted hurt/comfort or angst with a happy ending. I’ve never written anything like this so here’s my take on it. I tried to make it close to canon so I did wait until last minute to write this. I added some scenes that I hope you will like and warm your heart as it did mine while I wrote this. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190646099371/make-it-home-im-still-here

The Untold Truth of the Nutcracker by @green-arrows-of-karamel - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - An Olicity nutcracker AU - https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190646923881/dear-sammy-captainsammyangel-when-i-got-my

Type O multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Being a young Bratva captain, Oliver has had to go above and beyond to prove his worth. Despite some obstacles, he has made quite the name for himself in Starling City. When his life, family and empire are threatened from within, there are only a few people Oliver can truly trust and depend on. His fiery spirited wife, Felicity, is the first person he turns to. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888546/chapters/49652453

It's in the Air multi-chapter WIP by @emmilynestill - December 23, 2016. It’s Mayor Queen’s first holiday party and love is in the air. No, wait, that’s tension in the air. Bitterness. Regret. Painful longing for one’s former love. Awkward interactions with current significant others. A little humiliation mixed in. Yup, this was one great party. Then the gas came. Maybe love was in the air Afterall. Just my usual lock Oliver and Felicity in a room with a mind-altering substance with a dash of holiday magic thrown in. And, by magic, I mean Sex Pollen. And maybe a little Truth Serum to stir things up. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552481

We Ended as Lovers multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Three years ago, Felicity’s life was perfect. She was offered a job at two great companies. Her boyfriend just started his own fashion label, and they picked a perfect apartment to live in together. The more heartbroken she was when Oliver got cold feet and it all ended. Now, Felicity is coming back to Starling City, well aware that she is destined to run into her ex-boyfriend there. While old feelings revive quickly, the pain still goes deep. Besides, for some reason Oliver seems to be angry with her. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034827/chapters/52587292

Forget Me Not multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity was presumed dead after The Gambit was shipwrecked and she went missing. As the one year anniversary of her death approaches, a miracle happens and she is found. Just when Oliver thinks the universe has given them a second chance, he learns Felicity barely remembers him and the memories of their love together are gone entirely. Oliver and Felicity’s journey after they reunite prove to be a tough road ahead, and then they learn that Felicity’s accident may have had a more sinister motive behind it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392291/chapters/43556987

If I Tremble - Unravel by @smoaking-greenarrow - Felicity finds some new ways to entertain herself in the paradise dimension. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409122/chapters/54222400

Hope multi-chapter Complete by @missyriver and victoriaOlicity - Oliver Queen never thought he was the married with children kind of guy. But here he was, married to the love of his life, a son about to graduate, and a three-month-old daughter who had him wrapped around her finger. The road to Hope was a long one, but he never stopped looking, never stopped fighting. https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822968/chapters/24015198

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

Faith in You by @starrnobella - When Oliver's in danger, there's only one person guaranteed to find him and bring him back home. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13686384

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper// @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @laxit21 // - let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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secret-engima · 4 years

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FFXV Sad Thoughts

Okay so, since my brain refuses to focus enough to WIP but is quietly nomming itself out of boredom, let’s all have some Sad Thoughts about Luna and Ravus. Specifically how Ravus was ABSOLUTELY indoctrinated by Niflheim and how that slow indoctrination is something Luna totally would have been able to see but wouldn’t have been able to STOP because not only were they probably kept as separate as possible but Ravus would have 16 and grieving and DROWNING in anger from witnessing the brutal memory of his mother and like-

It would have been SO EASY for the Nifs to twist that anger, to warp it and go “sure, we may have killed her, but Regis is the Lucia King, he wields untold magic power, surely he could have STOPPED us, but he chose to leave you and your sister behind to save his own skin and his useless son.” and maybe Ravus wouldn’t have believed it the first time. Or even the first HUNDRED times. But when variations of that are ALL he hears? For years on end? If the people who control every aspect of his life steadily smothering his own thoughts and punish him (or worse, threaten to punish his grieving baby sister) if he says anything but some variation of their lies?

Eventually he stops being able to tell where the lies begin and true memories end. Eventually the need to LASH OUT is so strong that when his handlers hint that, as a member of the Empire now, he could join their military, could DO SOMETHING with the screaming hate and unresolved grief in his veins he ... thinks about it.

And then one of them reminds you of your sister’s fate. The impending death of your only remaining and most precious sister on behalf of the little boy who’s life was apparently more important than your mother, your sister, your entire COUNTRY. They remind him that Regis LEFT like a coward, and that his son is no different. That his sister is going to DIE.

For the same people that got his mother killed.

And he joins the Niflheim military. Worse, by this point he believes that he’s joining WILLINGLY and that this isn’t what they’ve been planning for years. That he can join this military that he still hates and use them to fight Luna’s fate, to subvert it, world be hanged. That if he can get the Ring, he can take Noctis’s and Luna’s PLACE and keep her safe.

Picture Luna’s expression when her brother, who has been growing steadily more distant over the years, announces that he is JOINING the military of the people that murdered their mother and enslaved them and all their country.

Imagine how it must feel for Luna. To watch as her own brother, her last safe haven and family, joins the other side.

In all honesty these two characters got some of the shortest sticks in the entire game and its giving me Feels

#Secret Engima Rambles #ffxv #lunafreya nox fleuret #ravus nox fleuret #sad feels

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vmiintae · 4 years

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Desire: The Truth Untold

↳ pairing(s): multiple. begins with taekook elements and develops into vmin as the main pairing of the story; possible vminkook. hoseok and taehyung share a platonic relationship.

↳ rating: 18+ / explicit

↳ genre: adult, strip club/sex club au.

↳ status: ongoing

↳ summary: Kim Taehyung is a lonesome, wealthy man who frequents The Parthenon – an elite gentleman's club introduced to him by his good friend, Jung Hoseok. Trials and tribulations ensue as Taehyung finds himself in a world of lust, violence, secrets, and love hidden within the Parthenon's walls. What starts as innocently being a frequent patron of a gentleman's club turns into something more sinister and beyond any expectation, as Taehyung discovers what – and who – lies behind The Parthenon's pristine facade.

↳ warning(s): please read! adult themes, explicit sexual content, blood, violence, sex work, BDSM themes, dom/sub dynamics, drugs, drug use

↳ author’s note(s): hello! whew, i have not touched tumblr in a good many years... this is my first work of fiction featuring the bangtan boys! I’ve only just started writing it, so it is a WIP, but I am excited to experience the story as it unfolds. please enjoy! <3

↳ read the story here. 🩸

↳ preview: Taehyung had tunnel vision. Most of them knew not to bother him anyway, but a lot of envious and questioning eyes were on Jeongguk. It wasn’t the best start for him as a new dancer, to be envied and despised by the others who wouldn’t even be given the time of day by Taehyung, a coveted client. Jeongguk, however, reveled in it. He knew all eyes were on him – including Taehyung’s – and he loved it. To know he had Taehyung’s attention, and on his first night dancing – the pride in him swelled and he felt his blood boiling with the hunger for victory and and bragging rights. All he needed next was to get some VIP time with Taehyung, and he would be the only dancer in this entire club to have done so. With a pretty price tag, Jeongguk was determined.

#bts fanfic #bts fic #vmin #taekook #sope #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #vhope #bangtan #kim taehyung #bts au #bts strip club au

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devolympian · 4 years

Text

Argo chapter 2

Rubble shot out under my body as I was slammed against the ground, a loud groan of pain escaping my lips in the process. However, I wasn’t on the ground for long as I soon found myself flung into the air once more, Clairs strong legs shooting me into the sky as if I were a soccer ball she had kicked.

As I hung in the air I was soon met with a flurry of kicks, each one hurting more than the last all culminating in the heel of her boot being brought down upon my chest and slamming me into the ground again.

My health seemed to plummet from this, but I managed to stagger to my feet and prepared for one final counter attack.

With all of my remaining strength I cupped my hands together and, through pure will power, conjured bright blue flames which compressed into a large fireball like object in my palms.

I followed Clair with my eyes as she fell to the ground, and as soon as her feet touched the dirt under us, I lunged forward and jutted my arms out sending the flames barreling towards her.

Clairabell simply leaped over it and landed in front of me.

Red and white lights flashed as she gathered energy into her strong, muscular legs and launched an endless onslaught of kicks so fast that they blurred together into bright flashes, tearing space and time asunder. And every kick made direct contact with my body.

With one final explosive heel to my jaw, my body was flown backwards landing in an unmoving heap on the ground.

My life had emptied.

“Yes” Clairabell cheered as the screen displayed her name in conformation of her victory, “bow to me mortal!”

“Dang it” I whimpered, watching as her character stood proudly over mine, “why do I suck at street fighter?”

“Well you keep choosing Ryu, that’s a start.”

“You always choose Chun Li though.

“Yeah cause she’s awesome and fun to- shit!”

As we were talking the scene in the game had changed to that of a large gray map with small portraits of the characters in front of it. With a flash an orange square appeared and begane jumping randomly from one portrait to another with loud beeps accompanying it.

With one last beep like noise the square landed on an image of a man with long, braided, brown hair and wearing a white mask.

“Oh” I exclaimed, “it’s Vega.”

“Easy” Clair stated as she prepared for the match, “I’ll have this done in like 10 seconds.”

It was over in thirty with Vega tearing through Chun Li with his clawed hands and superior speed.

Clairabell collapsed into a disappointed husk before the arcade machine, her eyes becoming watery as the words “You lose” flashed brightly before her.

“No, my sexy kick girl! How could he do this to her!?”

“Well he did kill her dad so. . . or, wait, was that M bison?”

As I contemplated this important question a 10 popped up on the screen and slowly started counting down.

“Shit, shit, Skye give me a quarter!”

I nodded ok and reached into my skirt pockets, only to find them empty other than a piece of lint and my ID.

“I’m out.”

“Already?”

“Dude, we’ve been here for an hour.”

“We have?!”

Unable to pay for another chance Clairabell and I watched as the numbers dropped until it hit zero and, in bright red colors, “Game Over” appeared on the screen before us.

“Damnit.”

“Sorry Clair.”

With annoyed huff Clair reached into her shorts and pulled her wallet out.

“Don’t worry Skee skee, I won’t let this masked back up dancer wannabe get the best of me. I’ll just wip out my secret weapon, get some quarters, and then smash his stupid face in!”

“I-it’s just a game though.”

A confident smile grew onto Clairabells face as she unleashed her hidden power, one which I could never hope to achieve even if I tried my hardest.

A platinum credit card with no credit limit, and endless spending so long as you pay the bill on time.

Clairs pink lips curled into an evil smirk and I could tell that she was thinking solely about spending every scent she could to humiliate a fictitious gut who had wronged her and the fictitious girl who has been one of video game crushes since she was like 13.

“Vengeance shall be mine!”

“Y-yeah” I stuttered out, “but won’t it take awhile before you fight Vega, the set up is r-random after all.”

Clair stopped smiling and gave me a disapproving look.

“. . . Skye, please, please just let me have this.”

“O-okay, s-s-sorry.”

“To the ATM” Clair cheered, almost instantly getting her pep back.

With her heels clicking against the arcade floor, Clair confidently struts over to the nearest ATM, her dark brown hair flowing behind her and her swaying hips drawing the gaze of the people she passed by.

I, meanwhile, did my best not to look like a stupid weirdo by scurrying next to her and hoped I was insignifigant enough to be completly off anybodys raidar so that they don’t notice me.

Once we reached the blue and white tower containing an untold amount of treasure (but, if you must know it was most likely between 100,000 and 200,000 USD) Clair raised her hand, placed the card between the scanner built into the ATMs face, swung down, put in a few numbers, and. . . was met with a buzzing noise and the words declined appearing onto the screen.

We stood in silence for a bit until Clair tried again, and was instantly met with the same results.

“Y-you did p-pay your credit bill, right?”

“I have to pay for a credit card?!”

Now, soundly defeated by our inability to acquire a hefty sum of money, or at the very least five bucks, Clairabell and I sulked back to our table where the ice in our drinks had melted and watered them down into tasteless puddles of dark sludge, perfectly symbolizing our utter destruction done to us by Vega from street fighter and a lack of change in either of our wallets.

With a heavy sigh Clair slumped forward against the table resting her chest on the wooden surface and began playing with the coasters, moving them around and making them spin.

“Sorry Clair” I said again, hoping it might make her feel a little better, “w-when I get paid we’ll come back. I-it’ll be a month though, sorry.”

Clair sunk lower into the table from my statement, a defeated groan escaping her mouth yet again.

“Stupid ATM” Clair stated while holding a coaster between the tip of her pointer finger and the table and spinning it, “making me look stupid. I’m made of skin you’re just plastic, so who’s stupid now?! Right Skee skee?”

“Oh, um.” Thinking as quickly as I could, I did my best to come up with an answer that would raise Clairs spirit, and make me feel like less of a bad friend for not being able to help. “W-well, th-the ATM is an inanimate object with no ability to create memories or any other neuron processing abilities, so I guess you’re by far more intelligent then it.”

I smiled after finishing my statement, while mentally patting myself on the back. There was no way that didn’t make her happy.

Clairabell just looked at me with confusion. “The hell are Neurons?”

“O-oh, they’re a cell in your brain which transmits nerve impulses when specific actions are triggered. Memories are the result of specific neurons being activated when the brain recognizes certain stimuli such as patterns and such.” “. . .” “. . .”

“Ok beautiful, I’m gonna pretend what you said makes perfect sense to me.”

“Sorry.”

I felt my face get slightly red as Clair giggled at my expense. Well, she was feeling better at the very least.

“Oh” she said, jumping up and pulling her phone out of her pocket, “I’ll call daddy!”

I watched as Clairs red tipped finger tapped on her phone with the speed of a carnivorous animal attacking the first meal it had eaten in days and the hungry look in her eyes showing the clear determination she had to devour what she wanted in one swift bite.

Dang, I’m hungry.

She placed the phone to her ear and we waited speechlessly for an answer on the other end.

“Hi daddy” Clair practically shouted, a smile spread far across her face. However, her face full of joy soon became one of shock and confusion. “What!?”

“W-what’s wrong” I stuttered, as a feeling of dread set into my empty stomach.

“Daddy that’s not fair, you can’t- What!? You can’t be serious, it is not that big of a deal!”

“Clairabell?”

“¡Oh, Dios mío, papi, estás jodidamente loco! Sí, apuesto a que si fuera Essy, ¡lo dejarías pasar!”

And now she’s speaking Spanish. By this point I was fully aware that I was no longer relevant to this conversation.

“What? What!?”

With a loud humph Clair turned to me, an angry scowl on her face.

“Skee skee I’m going outside for a minute.”

“Wh- w-wait. Clair!”

Before I was able to protest my sudden abandonment Clair was already heading for the entrance of the arcade, yelling angrily into her phone as she did so.

Within seconds of her departure my whole body began to shake and my eyes began involuntarily darting around the building, unsure where my site should be landing or if I should even be looking at anything at all.

Beads of sweat began falling down my forehead and arms and my throat became suddenly dry as I became painfully aware of how warm this place had become.

Without really thinking I forced my watered down soda between my lips and drank the odd tasting liquid into my body.

As I set the now empty glass back onto the table my thoughts finally caught up to me and questions began flowing into my mind faster than they could be answered.

How many people are here?

Are they going to talk to me?

Should I talk to them?

Is it strange that I’m here alone?

Is it wrong to be here alone?

Where were my friends?

How much are the chicken strips here?

Should I scrounge around for quarters and play the games?

Is it okay for me to play the games without my friends around?

If I tried starting a conversation how long would it be until people yelled at me to leave?

How much are the chicken strips here?!

My brain began to ache from trying to answer the never ending onslaught of questions that I began attacking myself with.

Why did Clair have to take her call outside and leave me in this social battle zone where I am left completely defenseless with my subpar social skills and basically useless communicative abilities.

If Zee were here this feeling would most likely have been lessened and. . . come to think of it, where the heck was Zee?

I guess he’d messaged Clair a little after we’d gotten to the arcade, saying he would be a little late, but he’s normally not this late.

The idea that something bad had happened, or that Zee was in some sort of trouble added itself to my growing number of concerns.

I wish I had a book to read.

I wish I was plotting a masterly crafted revenge scheme with Edmond Dantes, or hunting for lost treasures alongside Jim Hawkins, or fighting alongside the knights of the round table for the glory of king Arthur, or learning how to try new things like green eggs and ham with Sam I am.

My fingers began tapping against the table without me telling them too, almost as if they were typing my thoughts onto an invisible keyboard so that I could read how pathetic I actually was.

No, wait. This isn’t right!

I desperately tried to swallow the knot that had formed in my throat and forced my fingers away from the table before they could make deeper scratches into it.

This was a blessing in disguise. An opportunity that the gods have presented to me so that I might better myself socially and become a proper adult which will benefit society at large.

Clenching my hands into fist, I stood up in my stall, turned towards the violent army of people laid before me, mentally readied my ammunition with various puns on super mario bros and tetris that were always great conversation starters (so I’ve heard), set my foot into the battle zone, and. . . immediately sat back down, my body shaking from my feet to my pony tail.

Hey, I made it a step! That’s a win right?

With a heavy sigh, I just continued sitting in my booth, waiting for Clairabell to return.

That’s when my eyes wandered upwards to the TVs above the bar and a gasp escaped my lips as a sense of awe took over my heart.

Plastered onto the three screens was the same image of a reporter standing in front of a city in North America that was covered in dust and smoke. She spoke with a composed and calm voice but her body was shaking all over and her arms would gesture wildly as she explained the situation.

Unfortunately, the sound was muted by the noises in the arcade but the camera shaking wildly and the cause of the destruction rising from the ground a few moments later made me certain of what was happening.

Not too far from the reporter and her camera crew a creature had emerged, dirt tumbling down its long serpentine body and the sun glistening off its dark red skin. As it sung its upper half towards the camera I saw that its face was nothing more than a large gaping hole lined with crooked teeth that spun into a dark, empty void.

An Olgoi-Khorkhoi, a Mongolian death worm, had invaded the city and destroyed it out of predatory instinct.

It was so cool!

I mean, not the city destroying part, that is awful for all parties involved, but the death worm itself is probably one of the most amazing animals on the planet!

First off, it actually isn’t even a worm, it is a dragon species which evolved into their current form after their specific species was forced to migrate to desert areas over millions of years ago. Second off It is a dragon!

And that’s not even the coolest part

As they adapted to their environment the worms, or wyrms as we can probably call them, developed thermosensitive scales which adjusted their body temperature according to how hot or cold it was keeping them safe from the deserts rapidly changing temperatures. Their scales would even change color depending on the temperature, red meaning cold and blue meaning warm. Also, they developed giant mouths and the ability to freaking eat anything!

Isn’t that awesome!?

Granted, this does make them rather dangerous when they wander into cities or towns and are extremely frustrating to get rid of. However, the fact that they live in deserts far underground and tend to stay in one place unless mating makes this an extremely rare event.

But when they do pop up, an even more amazing creature follows.

Just as the worm prepared to dive back into the ground a barrage of golden arrows rained down onto it.

The arrows didn’t seem to bother it but the large number of explosions that followed did as every arrow erupted into a cloud of smoke and flames.

Panicked, the giant creature began tossing around in every direction and two long tentacles appeared out of its mouth in a desperate attempt to catch its attacker only to find that the scales covering its body began to change from their current red color to a dark blue as a giant pillar of fire erupted around it.

As the flames cleared the now blue worm was shown wrapped in chains held by a man with bat-like wings, large horns sprouting from his head, and a tail ending in a sharp barb.

Props to the camera crew by the way, these shots are amazing. So clear too.

The winged man struggled against the worm as it thrashed around desperate to escape its bondage, with intense struggle causing more damage to the city and sending the man crashing into multiple buildings as he held onto his prey.

Moments after this struggle began another man, this one with a long orange ponytail and a large golden bow stepped into the camera shot.

He looked like a college athlete having a large build, broad shoulders, and noticeable muscles. He wasn’t as large or muscular as Zee but he still looked exactly as I dreamed these people would. People who traveled the world, discovering new lands, battling monsters and great evils, aided by any god they wanted to help them.

He looked like an adventurer.

Holding the bow he held up a pillar of blinding light formed around him only to vanish moments later as millions of golden arrows hovered in the air around the orange haired adventurer.

Taking aim at the worm, he pulled the string of his bow back, released it, and caused the arrows to go flying towards the monster, exploding on contact just like they did last time.

The adventurer then promptly turned towards the camera with a smug smile and a cocky look in his golden eyes. He started saying something to the reporter and her crew, which I couldn’t hear cause bar noises, only to be interrupted by his partner slamming into him.

The camera followed the two as they rolled into the ground and kept filming them as they began, I assume by the angry faces, yelling and arguing with each other.

They stopped soon however as something caught their attention.

The crew turned back towards the worm as a large lump began running up its body and a pillar of dirt, and chunks of the city erupted out of their mouths.

Interesting factoid about Mongolian death worms, they are capable of turning their stomachs inside out and can actually regurgitate whatever they’ve eaten like a super soaker blasting people in the face. It is awesome to look at but most likely not a fun experience when you’re in the direct vicinity when it happens.

The death worm began slowly turning towards the crew and adventures as it fired its pre eaten food with deadly force.

My heart beat filled my ears as I clutched my seat in anticipation for what would happen, hoping with everything that the heroes would pull out one final secret move to combat the attack.

Just then, a black flash shot through the air striking the death worm just as it was about to hit the crew and causing it to fall forward into the city.

I felt my eyes go wide at the images before me and my heart began to pound even louder as I waited for the worm to get back up and face its new challenger.

But, like all epics, this one has a rather disappointing ending.

The worm vanished. Like, straight up, just disappeared.

I eyed the TV with utter confusion and a feeling of disbelief at what had happened.

Then, another black flash shot down directly in front of the camera crew and standing there, with his award winning goofball smile, spiky black hair, and electric blue eyes was. . .

“Zee!”

I shot up out of my seat, my glasses nearly flying off my face when I did so, and watched as my friend stood in front of the wrecked city looking like a superhero. . . before sitting back down and hoping nobody had noticed my outburst.

This was probably what he meant when he said work and, to be honest, it was really stupid of me to be surprised by this.

I’ve seen videos of him locked in combat with creatures from around the world and even have some stuff that he brought me from those countries. But still, it was kind of surprising to see him on live TV.

How he defeated the worm when the other two adventurers were struggling to even damage it was also something that grabbed my curiosity and refused to let go.

So, naturally I continued to watch the TV in desperate anticipation for any clue I could gain from the scene in front of me. That is, until someone stepped in front of me and blocked my view and I suddenly felt my stomach grow tight and found that it was getting harder to take in air, almost like someone was slowly squeezing my neck until I couldn’t breathe properly.

A young man was standing in front of me, his freckled cheeks tinted with a bright pink as he rubbed behind his curly brown hair and his dark eyes refused to meet mine. Every now and then he’d glance over to, I’m assuming, his group of friends but other than that he didn’t really do or say anything for a few seconds.

Eventually he moved his lips but, for some reason, I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Instead my ears had become filled with a sharp buzzing noise that drowned out all other sources of sound.

The guy in front of me, the people having fun at the bar, even the sound of the video games that surrounded us had become muted to me.

I tried to respond as best I could but every time I thought of what to say the words were erased from my mind before I could get them out of my mouth.

Then, in an instant all the noise shot back into my ears and I was greeted by the laughs of people having fun and the video games that had been entertaining them.

“So, yeah” the guy in front of me said, as he rubbed the back of his head and tried not to look at his feet, “ . . .you-you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I completely understand!”

He glanced around a bit more, his face beat red, as he waited for my response to the question I didn’t know.

What should I say? What should I do? These questions repeated themselves in my mind over and over again and no matter what I thought of it felt like the wrong answer.

Sweat began to drip down my body as my fingers started playing an invisible piano again. All while I stared blankly at the stranger in front of me who was patiently waiting for my response.

I clutched the hem of my skirt in my other hand and twisted the fabric until my heart stopped pounding in my chest.

This person was trying to interact and start a conversation with me, and I was just staring at him like how a child stares at something they don’t understand.

I owed him a response, didn’t I?

Swallowing the lump made of air that was clogging my throat I mentally readied my words and, with all causian thrown to the wind, I let the first answer that I could come up with out of my mouth.

“I have to pee?”

We both looked wide eyed at each other in silence once more as we pondered my question, which I really wasn’t sure why I asked.

“Oh, uh yeah, okay. I’ll just get out of your way.”

I watched as he stumbled back to his table where I could see his friends laughing and patting him on the back.

It took me a few minutes to remember that I asked to go to the bathroom, even though I don’t have to, and that I should probably start making my way towards there.

My legs jerked my body out of the booth and I began to stagger blindly through the crowd of people, bumping into bodies without realizing it and all around being the nuisance that I am.

As my breath shook its way out of my lungs I clutched the marble counter in front of me as I tried to steady my body.

Somehow, I managed to make it to the bathroom.

I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten to the bathroom, heck I wasn’t even sure I was still in the arcade, but I ultimately managed to complete the task I had absentmindedly assigned myself.

. . .

Now what do I do?

I couldn’t exactly go back out, but if I didn’t and Clair came back she might get worried.

She could probably figure out where I was but she might get mad at me for making her go through this, or get mad at the guy who tried talking to me, or call the cops to try and find me, or. . .

I looked at myself in the mirror and felt my stomach turn at the site of my reflection and I asked myself the same question I’d been asking for a few years now.

What is wrong with me?

Like usual, I couldn’t bring myself to come up with a good answer and just ended up messing with my blonde hair a little cause the bangs kept getting in front of my glasses.

With a sigh I continued to stand in front of the bathroom sinks my fingers tapping the marble that they were made of. I could leave soon, but for now I would have to wait, and probably think up an apology for Clairabell and the boy I was rude too.

For now though, I should keep my mind busy.

As I began tracing circles in the small puddles of water scattered around the counter a thought popped into my head. A little idea to keep my brain occupied and off uncomfortable subject matter.

Placing my hands under the automatic faucet I took a deep breath as the warm water began to pour out soaking my fingers and palms. Once my hands were significantly wet enough I slowly pulled them away, letting the water dribble onto the counter in front of me and whispered the word which I had to say.

“Undine.”

The moment the name slipped out of my mouth the water in front of me began to gather into my hands until it eventually formed a small ball. It was sort of like a large glass marble with how clear and shiny it was.

I smiled a little as I balanced the liquid in my hands before clutching it tightly with my fingers as I began pulling and stretching it.

Doing my best to make sure that the water held its shape I began twisting and turning it, like a baker molding their doe into the shape they wish to form but unsure what that actually was.

Eventually my hands began to move without my input as my mind pieced together what I wanted to create.

I started to smooth out the water until it was a sort of oval shape making sure that one end was a bit thicker than the other and that the smaller end had a bit of a curve to it before I tugged at the bottom until there was a peg on the sides which I slimmed down a little.

Next, I pinched the small end and twisted the water around before pulling at it making a long, curly, “tail” appear.

Then I cupped my hands around the top and started pushing some water upwards before turning it forward away from the body and did my best to give it a sort of boxy triangle shape. Tugging on either end of the shape I pulled two smaller triangles up and rubbed in them to make sure they were slightly dented inwards. And, just to add texture, I pushed my thumbs into the sides of the large triangle beneath where I had made the small dented ones before adding two much larger dents near the tip.

Brushing my hand down the back of the “neck” I made a long flowing main appear and finally sat my shape down on the counter, it’s shape holding so long as I focused on it.

My horse made of water sat perfectly on the marble in front of me, the light reflecting off its clear liquid body as a little water droplets dripped down it.

Butterflies tickled my stomach as I felt myself smile involuntarily.

It wasn’t anything special, in fact I’m sure looked awful compared to other peoples creations. But, I don’t know, guess I just really liked how it turned out.

Oh, I know!

Reaching into my skirt pocket I fumbled around a bit until my hands felt the cold metal of my zippo lighter resting just below my house key. I ran my thumb across my initials that my grandpa had emblemed onto its surface, just to make sure that it was mine, before pulling it out.

I flipped the top up and a small flame almost immediately materialized.

Holding the fire just below my little horse's head I tried my best to split my focus between the water and the fire in my hand.

“Salamander.”

With that word out of my mouth the flame started swirling around my little horse wrapping itself around its body, legs, and head before slowly sinking into the water. Unlike normal fire though, it didn’t extinguish but instead formed a small ball in the center and made my horses “eyes” glow a bright orange.

The horse then reared back on its back legs and let out a loud whine before it began galloping around the counter as if it were on an open field.

It was ultimately a simple spell, using fire to give life to a small object was sort of the second thing you need to learn when studying elemental magic after all.

But the sight of my little horsey galloping around made me feel as giddy as if I were a little kid. It was so cute that I couldn’t help but clap a little when it came alive.

Not wanting to stop there though, I placed my hand just above my horse while it grazed on a small puddle near the sink.

“Sylph”.

Instantly, wind began to shoot from my hand and, just like the fire, wrapped itself around my little horsey before going inside it.

My horse looked up from its water as two large wings popped out of its back.

Almost instinctively, it began running forward and started flapping its brand new wings until it lifted itself off the ground and began soaring all around the bathroom. It took to flying pretty easily if I do say so myself.

As I watched my little horse flap around I felt my mind start to clear and a sort of calmness began to settle over me. My shoulders relaxed and my muscles seemed to loosen up, as I let myself fall into a dazed state.

I didn’t have to think about going back into the arcade, about worrying Clair, or upsetting the guy who tried to talk to me. All I had to do was watch my little creation enjoy the life I had given it.

“Hi blondie!” Zee said, his head resting on my shoulder.

I let out a loud scream as I fell forward, grabbing the counter to regain my balance.

“Alex” I responded, my heart pounding wildly in my chest again, “What the heck dude!?”

“Sorry” he said, even though that smile of his told me he wasn’t sorry at all, “I came to use the bathroom and when I saw you zoning out I thought to myself, hey, let’s mess with her.”

“Wow, so glad my reaction of fear was to your liking. I’m afraid I am currently unable to do encourse however as my throat is currently killing me because of you.”

Zee then promptly gasped and looked at me with worry.

“Oh my goodness my lady, I meant you no harm” he responded, his body moving dramatically with every word, “perish the thought as I am but a humble servant in thine lords grace.”

“Dude what?”

“Oh woe is me, to have acted in such an ungentlemanlike way to such a fair lass such as yourself.”

Zee then, with all the acting ability of a highschooler trying not to fail drama class, placed his hands to his chest, spun in place and fell back first into my arms.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I’ll think about it” I assured him, doing my best not to giggle, before dropping him to the floor.

“Yaa” he said, as he laid on the bathroom floor of the arcade, “she’ll think about it.”

This causes me to let out a laugh. Dang it Zee, let me be mad at you.

As he pulled himself off the floor, and sat on the counter, a sudden realization hit me and I began to panic.

“Zee, you can’t be in here!”

“Hey, this is a free country, my bodily fluids are just as good as anybody else's.

“No dude, this is the girls room!”

“Really? Those must be the decorative waterfalls then.”

He pointed behind me and my face became instantly red as I saw what he was talking about.

“Oh my gods” I gasped as I gazed at the three urinals next to the two bathroom stalls, “this isn’t the girls room.”

“Meh, gendered bathrooms are bull crap anyways.”

“I shouldn’t be in here!”

“Dude, relax. Most of the people here are too drunk to even walk into the bathroom and a lot of them probably won’t mind seeing you is that a pegasus?”

We both looked as my little horsey landed next to Zee on the counter and began grazing on the puddles it found.

“It’s my little horsey” I told him, almost instantly forgetting about the whole bathroom thing, “I got a little bored and-”

“Its name is raindrop.”

“ . . .Dude, yes! Come here raindrop.”

I patted my lap but Raindrop simply went back to flying around to its hearts content. It’ll get used to the name eventually.

“Oh dude” Zee exclaimed, standing up on the counter, “check this out.”

Reaching to his left I watched as Zees hand slowly disappeared and a humming noise began to fill the air around us. After a few seconds he pulled his hand back revealing that he was now holding a small jar filled with dirt and a small red serpent-like creature.”

“No way, is that?”

“A 100% middle eastern, male, Mongolian death worm? Yes, yes it is.”

He handed me the amazing creature before jumping off the counter.

“I fed him a few runes so he’d shrink down and decided it’d be fun to keep him around until I’m near Egypt or Turkey again. Did have to get all the dead bodies out of him first though.”

“Going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part” I responded as I watched the little wormy wrap around the stick Zee had placed in there and start relaxing.

“In all fairness the people he ate are alive now, because of yours truly, so it all evens out.”

“Are they in anyway zombies?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that the use of zombification was in play here.”

I let myself giggle a little at my friends' slight ridiculousness before returning my attention to the little fella in my hands.

“Ooh, let’s name him Mr.Worms.”

“Nah, that’s too predictable.”

“So is Raindrop and you didn’t see me turn down that name.”

“How about cinnamon? Cause of the red scales.”

“His scales aren’t always red though.”

“Oh yeah that’s right.”

“Hmm, maybe Sandy?”

“Naw, I’m saving that name for my pet squirrel. How about-”

All of a sudden, we were interrupted by the sound of Zees phone ringing.

“Oh” he said, “hold on.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone which was encased a pink, kitten shaped cover.

“Moshi moshi” he responded.

“WHERE ARE YOU” I heard Clair scream on the other end.

“Oh hey, Clairabell baby. Long time no see. How is that hunk of a fiance of yours, still a wiz in the sack?”

I couldn’t hear Clairs response, but Zees smirk told me that he got the reaction he wanted.

“Alright, alright we’ll be out in a sec. Love you snookums.”

Zee made a kissy noise into the phone, and I could hear Clair growling angrily, before he hung up.

“Well” he said, grabbing his new pet out of my hand, “let’s go make sure Clairabell doesn’t start murdering people out of worry.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

Zee placed the worm back into the space he pulled him out of and we walked out of the restroom, Raindrop following after us.

To my surprise the bar had become quieter and the patriots had almost all disappeared.

How long had I been in the bathroom for?

Before I could figure out the answer to my question I suddenly felt two, squishy and soft, round orbs smash against my face as I was swept off my feet.

“Skee skee” Clairabell said as she hugged me, and pushed my head into her chest, “I was so worried!”

“C-Clair” I said, doing my best to push her away, “I can’t breath.”

My pleads for mercy were promptly met with Clair tightening the hug until I could feel my body being crushed.

“What” Zee whined, “no love for the hero who found the missing girl.”

Clair, finally loosened her grip, as she turned towards Zee.

“And where the hell were you?”

“Africa.”

The fact that he was able to say this without batting an eye both annoyed, and actually didn’t surprise, me or Cair.

“So” he continued, “what games do you guys wanna play?”

“We’re out of quarters” I told him as I was still held in Clairs arms.

“ . . .Was it Vega?”

“Vega is a cheating asshole” Clair argued, nearly crushing me again.

“Clairabell” I whined,but received no response.

Zee simply smiled coily and crossed his arms.

“Well, it seems you gals are in quite the predicament. To be faced with such a powerful opponent but with no way of defeating him. Truly, I feel nothing but the utmost sorrow at your predicament. Infact, I feel the need to donate all of my earthly possessions to your noble cause.”

“So you’ll give us quarters” I said, finally escaping Clairs grip.

“I wasn’t done hugging you” she promptly stated before grabbing me again.

“Watch where you’re touching please!”

“Hmm, yes, I would love to donate this treasure which you commonly call quarters. . . but I broke.”

We stood in silence for a sec.

“Say what?”

“I broke. I don’t have any money. Me is poor.”

“So why’d you offer us the quarters” Clair asked, squeezing me again. She probably would have snapped me in half if I didn’t manage to squirm free.

“It was fun,” Zee answered, his signature smirk returning.

Clairabell and I simply glared at him, the fact that we could never defeat Vega now actually annoying us more then Zee was.

“Oh come on don’t be mad” he said before rushing over to us and lifting both me and Clairabell over his shoulders, “for I know where our adventure can continue.”

“Hey, hey, hey” I protested as I was once again, unwillingly picked up.

“Yes” Zee answered, even though nobody asked a question, “a magical place in which dreams and happiness are bound. A place where we can be free to do as we please, and be who we are meant to be.”

“Skyes place” Clairabell asked.

“Yep”

“Hey wait guys” I started to say, “I should probably ask my pare-”

Before I could finish my sentence Zee began rushing to the exit, still holding me and Clair on his shoulders.

As we ran through the bar none of us could help letting out laughs and allowing smiles to grow on our faces.

We simply ignored the people around us and set out on our epic adventure.

#creative writing #writing #original story #urban fantasy #modern fanta

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