#The Forest Sages (Blades AU)

[meet-again-in-another-life]

"May we meet again, in another life..."

Another AU where legends cross. Read more under the break.

General Story Synopsis:

Somewhere outside of time, the golden goddesses fued. A cycle of no end plagues their souls after they have let it push on across time and space alike. One of hatred, blood, and spirit; one of light and shadow. The goddess Din plots to destroy it all, at odds with her sister, Farore, who wishes rather to destroy the evil. Nayru, who trusts in the balance of the eternal struggle, proposes a solution. She will allow Din to put the worlds created by different ripples of time to the test. Din shall choose to revive a single puppet, and they will set the determining factors of the universe's fate into motion. She makes her choice, and Nayru begins with her work.

In a world still set in the era of A Link Between Worlds, a fabric is once more torn between realities. However, this is one far greater than anything before. It tears through time itself; a power only previously carried to the mortal world by Hylia herself. At the same time, an evil sealed away in this realm returns to life. The fused beast from light and dark worlds alike attempts to take control of the head-start the goddesses have given it; but there is no telling what the crack in reality may cause for existence now.

Premise:

The general idea for the AU is to focus on the narrative themes of The Legend of Zelda games, as well as Demise's Curse. It will heavily focus on the bond between Link and Zelda across lifetimes, and how their loyalty to one another affects the fate of Hyrule and those who live there.

Link Nicknames:

The Hero of the Skies (SkSw) - Chosen Hero, stink (affectionate), sleepyhead (affectionate), Skies.

The Hero of Men (MC Prologue) - Min

The Hero of the Minish (MC) - Pico

The Old Hero of the Four Sword (FS Backstory) - Fourest (get it because forest + four haha I'll see myself out). Kidding. Just Forest.

The New Hero of the Four Sword (FS) - Four

The Hero of Time (Oot Child) - Mask, Deku, fairy boy (affectionate)

The Hero of Time (OoT Adult(Alt)) - Time, Kiri

The Hero of Time (OoT Fallen) - Shade (given by TP Link despite being the wrong one)

The Hero of Legend (AlttP/LA) - Pink, rabbit, hare

The Hero of Ages and Seasons (OoA/S) - Oracle

The Hero of Worlds (ALBW) - Bear, Little Rabbit (given by ALttP/LA Link), Leaf (teasing nickname from Gulley when he died his hair green for a while)

One Who Learned Courage (Lorule) - Ravio, merchant (not affectionate)

The Hero of Hyrule (LoZ/AoL) - Hero

The Hero of Twilight (TP) - Twilight, wolf (given to him by TotK Link), Gray, Ordon (affectionate, given to him by TP Zelda)

The Hero of Light (FSA) - Divide, Mirror

The Hero of Winds - Wind, Gale (given to him by AoC Link), sailor

The Hero of Spirits (ST) - Conductor

The Hero of Warriors (HW) - Captain, Warrior

The Hero of Calamity (BotW Backstory) - Aspect, Dracozu (as he grew up along this river)

The Hero of the Wild (AoC) - Blade, Knight, Champion (gets confusing)

The Hero of the Wild (BotW/TotK) - Wild, Champion, Spirit (also gets confusing),

Zelda Nicknames:

Hylia Reborn (SkSw) - Grace (or Your Grace), Hylia/Hyli (not preferred), Ether? (Link definitely has nicknames for her, but they're all a bit too sweet for everyone else to call her by...)

Princess of the Light Force (MC Prologue) - Radiance, Harmony

Bright Princess (MC) - Bloom

Princess of the Elements (FS Backstory) - Prism, Monarch

Princess of the Four Sword Shrine (FS) - Adora

The Princess of Destiny (OoT Child) - Tulip

The Sage of Light (OoT Adult(Alt)) - Destiny, Sage

The Master of Disguise (OoT Fallen) - Sheik

Triforce Guide (ALttP) - Guide, Marin (what?!?! Whoa?!?! more on that later)

Hope of her People (OoS/A) - Hope

Princess like a Painting (ALBW) - Chroma

One Who Learned Wisdom (Lorule) - Hilda

Princess of Legend (LoZ/AoL) - Princess, Tale

The "Twlight Princess" (TP) - Dusk

Light of the Kingdom (FSA) - Light

Leader to a New Hyrule - Tetra, Captain (given by WW Link affectionately)

Spirit Princess (ST) - Phantom

Commander and Princess (HW) - Commander

Ancient Sealer - Guardian, Sonia (her middle name (her mother's name)), Sealer

Burgeoning Scholar (AoC) - Scholar

Sage of Light and Time (BotW/TotK) - Zel (given by her Link), Petal (also given by her Link once as a joke, but it stuck), Scale (usually isn't taken well)

(The nicknames above are WIPs, may be changed if I change my mind).

Extra Notes:

I intend to focus on the Links and Zeldas equally, as a big part of the story refers to their relationship in the grand scheme of like... the entire universe. This falls under the idea that every incarnation is a reincarnated form of a singular spirit and goddess.

Certain unnamed heroes from the games are given proper backstory and titles.

The two Zeldas in LoZ and AoL are combined into one Zelda; more on how the Hero of Hyrule's story goes later.

Some events in the games may be slightly dramatacized or combined with elements from their respective manga. More on this later.

While I will be using headcanons for post-game, I am making it my goal not to do so excessively. I like my canon compliancy, sometimes. I will mostly only use headcanons to fill in plot/character gaps or make sense of timeline.

A lot of posts will just be designs and ideas dumping early on. Comics are hard, I'm afraid. :')

@loz-untold-myths will be prioritized over work on this! Please keep this in mind!! (So if you like my stuff, maybe check that out).

I'm designing way too many outfits, I'm hoping to be able to share some of them soon!

Info Posts

Din, Nayru, and Farore

Tags

#loz ial

#loz in another life

#ial main story

#ial vignettes

#ial info post

#ial update

#ial doodles

#ial character peek

I made the name too long, I am aware of this, but A Link Between Links was apparently taken. Curse the fandom hivemind!!!!

One more note: This AU now has its own section of the Untold Myths (@loz-untold-myths) Discord server! If you want an invite, please DM me.

#links meet au #zeldas meet au #zelink #zelink au #link #princess zelda #loz #tloz #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #zelda #info #info post #au info #au idea #telink #tloz link #zelda x link #link x zelda #golden goddesses #au art #wip #my wips #current wip #work in progress #fan designs #post game

[ichorai]

the painter's ghost ; p.sh

pairing ; ghost!seonghwa x cottagecore!gn!reader

synopsis ; an exploring ghost comes across a painter just outside the forest.

themes ; fantasy, slight angst, ghost au

words ; 0.8k

warnings / includes ; mentions of death, very lotr-esque, dream-like dialogue, reader is described to be wearing a dress (but still gender neutral !)

a/n ; requested by an anon with the color #9caf88 for ICHOR.

masterlist.

It started tentatively, at first, like a drooping dollop of honey from its dipper. Seonghwa hadn’t meant to come across your little cottage, to be fair. He was merely a wandering spirit of the forest��there wasn’t much to do when he’d been dead for a hundred years. He had been exploring the other side of the river that day, growing bored of watching leaves whisper sonnets in the air, and decided to float over the glinting, iridescent fishes in the stream.

And there, he saw you. You were wearing the prettiest white dress, cinched at the waist with a pale green ribbon, an identical material woven through your hair. Sunlight bathed you in a glow of subtle clementine, casting long, elegant shadows over your features. A brilliant grin etched itself lovely and warm over your lips, a low tune rumbling from deep within your chest, carving together a staggered, off-key song. 

Seonghwa thought it was perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

You were perched atop a wooden stool, long blades of grass brushing against your legs as you gently swung them back and forth. There was a slight tilt to your head whilst you stroked paint across the canvas set up in front of you, smooth hues of sage and raspberry smothered across ivory white. 

Seonghwa moved closer, utterly silent, observing you with nearly owlish eyes. It’d been a while since he last saw a living human. There was that one time he saw hunters several years ago, but the forest had been relatively quiet since then. 

He found himself to be curious. What were you painting? Did you paint often? Were you always this beautiful when you did? 

It came just as much of a shock to him as it did to you when he found out that you could see him. The paintbrush clattered to the grass with a quiet thud, stool creaked in protest as you weaned your weight off of it in slow motions, and the light breeze murmured anxiously in your ears. But you made naught a sound, and that only made Seonghwa grow more intrigued. 

You could see him? All this time, he’d just assumed he was invisible to the living world. So why weren’t you screaming? Running away in terror? There was a ghost standing right in front of you, and yet you could only watch him with pensive eyes, that horridly adorable tilt of your head still on full display. 

“Are you a ghost?” you asked quietly, fiddling with the ribbon looped over your abdomen. “Because I… I’ve been haunted before. Not by ghosts, though. Just by feelings of things I can’t seem to remember. I’d much rather you be a ghost than a hallucination of my own. Sometimes the opposite of a haunting can be lonely.”

Seonghwa didn’t know what to say to that, to be quite frank. 

“I suppose you could call me that, yes,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. You seemed to visibly relax at the sound of his voice. How queer. “I died around a century ago.”

Pursing your lips, you moved to pick the paint brush up from the ground. “I’m sorry. It must be hard … living and not living at the same time.”

One of his transparent shoulders lifted upwards into a shrug. “Never thought about it, honestly.”

You shot him a queer look. “Is there something you’d like from me?” Before he could even find the words to respond, you spoke again, “You could stay and watch me paint. You could give it a go, too. That is… if you could—”

“I can touch physical things when I choose to,” he interrupted, floating closer. “But I think I’ll just sit and watch, for now. What are you painting?”

“A place humans cannot touch,” you mumbled dipping the brush into water. “A place of flowers and fruit and love.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Seonghwa. “How come humans aren’t allowed there?”

Your hand paused mid-stroke. “Humans are a disease. A plague. Everything we touch turns into ash eventually, as sad as that is. Paradise couldn’t coexist when we’re around—it’s just not possible.”

There was little Seonghwa had to say to your bold statement, so he only bobbed his head and remained silent. How he died was just a further testament to your words, so he couldn’t disagree with you. The day passed on just like that, a ghost watching a person paint life without life. When the sun descended below the horizon and the sky littered with diaphanous stars, Seonghwa noticed how your movements grew more lethargic. 

You eventually packed away your things, smiling warmly as you bid your farewell.

It wouldn’t be the last farewell, he hoped. He’d be back tomorrow, and perhaps the day after that. Maybe he’d bring flowers and fruit with him. After enough visits, he’d bring love, too, but you couldn’t ever know that.

After all, the dead had no business loving the living.

#ichor. #ficscafe #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfiction #seonghwa fanfiction #park seonghwa fanfiction #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #seonghwa fanfic #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios #ateez fantasy #ateez ghost #ateez angst #seonghwa fantasy #seonghwa angst #seonghwa drabbles #seonghwa scenarios

[st-hedge]

Okay FINALLY: Sleeping tomb AU brief summary! Still incomplete, many details missing. I don’t know which timeline this fits in or which branch of lore, just go with it and vibe. Go have a look at my linktober post for day 21 to see the first glance of this AU

The green fields and forests of Hyrule are gone, there are only cold deserts and dry grasslands separated by groves of dead trees from centuries past and bogs where nothing lives but desperate things and monsters. Nature was thrown off balance when the Triforce was broken and the spirits of the three chosen protectors were thrown apart

Centuries ago when green things still grew the distrust grew between the nations and each thought that the other was going to misuse the Triforce. They tried to reconcile but instead a battle broke out, the Triforce was shattered into pieces. The protector of Power and Wisdom were locked in a fight which was broken apart when the wielder of the Master Sword intervened

Ganondorf was pierced by the Master Sword which shattered in half, one part of it still attached to the handle and the other lodged within the Ganon's chest. However, instead of killing him the blade had set him into eternal sleep. Fi was conscious of her Master’s doubt when he struck Ganon and she broke the sword herself to avoid sealing the fate. Her spirit was damaged, but it was worth the cost because she was able to save Ganon and stop Link doing something so irreversible

The effect of the shattered Triforce rippled across the world. The cold winds tore apart the forests, the fields. Everything became barren. (Note: the Triforce is shattered in a mildly metaphorical sense since it’s already three segments protected by three different people)

Centuries pass with stories of the events. Zelda, a chief of a Hylian tribe living in the desert, the protector of Wisdom, sets out on her final journey to fulfil her inherited promise to the golden goddesses and Hylia to restore the wilderness of hyrule and to see her people flourish again. She must find the hero, the protector of Courage, who will wield the Master Sword and reunite it with the second half of the blade which remains in the sleeping tomb with the enemy of her forebears. Her goal is not to fight Ganondorf but to reconcile

Zelda does not know who the hero is but she has heard many stories being spun. Maybe they are the descendant of a king, or a lord, maybe a noble adventurer, perhaps a sage

Zelda is guided by Fi toward the tomb. Her spirit is very weak but she is able to shine a guiding light with a ringing note to show Zelda the path. Fi can sometimes speak to her when she gets rest but her strength is waning

On her way out of a scrubland village, a shepherd boy dressed in a wolf skin latches onto Zelda to earn a little money as a guide through the marshes. But then he feels too guilty to allow Zelda to keep going on her own. After all, how can an elderly woman all alone make it through the desert. Soon they go too far for Zelda to send Link away on his own without endangering him and she allows him to follow her until they come to the next village

They come about stone ruins in a hillside which Zelda is eager to approach and inspect. But before the duo can come closer the stone begins to sink into the ground, revealing buried corridors. A spirit creature emerges from the ruins, an animal of the old world, and it tells Zelda that if she wishes to keep going she must prove the honesty in her desire to make amends and to do this she will need to earn the temple sage's blessing (so if this was a game this would be the first dungeon. I think these dungeons would correlate with the oot temples but they would have animal guardians cuz of the theme of diminished wilderness. The first temple maybe would be the temple of shadow)

The guardian creature is surprised that Zelda bears such a name, so deeply steeped in misery, and she tells the guardian that she intends to return light to the name

They continue through the landscape of Hyrule, finding ruins and temples where the temple sages wait for them. Throughout the adventure, Link follows Zelda, surprised to find she does not need his help, but he none the less follows her. This time, he is determined to see how this journey ends

The tomb, once a citadel, is a lone wind beaten structure standing in the sand. Link and Zelda enter the tomb without challenge. The air is easier to breathe inside because through the centuries a forest has been growing in the tomb which has sheltered creatures which could not live out in the deserts and scrublands

Before Zelda and link could continue, they were halted by automatons shaped like suits of armour of pale stone (*coughs at silent realm guardians*). The automatons are inhabited by the spirits of the gerudo soldiers who had promised to wait for their king to return but of course they could only wait for so long. They tell Link and Zelda that before they can continue onwards, the Hero must prove that Courage is with him. Zelda is confused because she had never been able to find the heir of the hero until she realises the automatons are addressing Link. She panics because he is just a child and he shouldn’t even be there but the spirits say to here: did not Link pass through every temple with her, did he not complete this entire journey at her side, has he not fought for her. (This would be the final dungeon before the final boss)

When Link passes through his trial he and Zelda are allowed through into the heart of the tomb and—— and I’ll tell u all more about it when I have Ganon figured out :>

Notes: the Gerudo are still live out in this barren Hyrule. Link and Zelda meet them but I’ll talk about this some other time. Ganon is not the only Gerudo man, one continues to be born each century. However, because the people are still waiting for Ganon to return, this voe is not called a king but instead a prince

Link does not have any known family. He may as well have sprouted from the ground. And this AU is all about found family

#sleeping tomb au #au summary #desert au #pray to god I’m able to find this when I need to #this was sitting in my drafts #I don’t know why for so long #but here u go guys

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ↟ 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞

↠  summary: After receiving a few letters from your previous accomplice, your withstanding in Techno's home is questioned.

↠ fantasy au, slow-burn romance

↠  pairing: c!Techno x fm!reader

↠  tw: angst, mentions of blood, slight manipulation, fighting, language, knives, language, a lil fluff

↠  wc: ~2700

↠  previous chapter ↟ make a request ↟ create the next moodboard

this post contains an image of a letter. if you find it difficult to read, here is the transcript.

The wind howled against the cabin, snow beating against the shutters to make the structure trembled as if it was battling the cold like you were. The heavy blanket around your shoulders served as an anchor from your intruding thoughts as you attempted to self-soothe. The fire blazing in front of you was your only consoling friend as you debated whether or not Techno would make it back during the storm.

In your gross self-pity, you wondered if he even would want to come back. You had been living like a parasite in his domain for weeks, relying on him as your wounds slowly mended. How many times had he stayed up to cool your fevers, or told you to sit down when you had been on your ankle for too long? When would it be too much for him? When would he want you gone?

You had never had another person before. Sure, Dream was your friend and partner, but the two of you lived independently of each other. Techno had gained your respect and trust within a short amount of time and you hated to admit that you liked having him around.

But was it the same for him?

You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging the fabric tighter around you as you dug your nose into its velvety coloring. It smelled like Techno, a mix of pine and sage. It quelled your neediness for his presence. You debated whether or not your worry was because of your obsession with his impression of you, or the fact that he was the first person that had let you rely on them.

The blizzard grew stronger with each passing second, and you were a hairline fracture away from throwing on a jacket and searching the snowbanks for him. Your mind darted to if packing your belongings and getting out of his hair would be the option. Clearing out before he had to tell you to leave seemed almost like the better idea; the possibility of gaining back your independence secretly made you melancholy.

With that, the image of Dream came to you. In the summers when the two of you were hunkered down against a rotting log looking for one of the King’s enemies, you could practically smell the sunlight on his skin. His freckles would darken, and his blond hair would shine as if it were a ray in and of itself. If you let yourself, you could feel his green eyes on you, watching as you would dip your knife in a tranquilizing agent if your target were to be delivered alive. He would always wander into your root cellar, running his fingers along the hanging rosemary and strands of lavender.

He would always pitch the idea of poisoning the King and running away to grow mushrooms in the forest together. For most of your time as accomplices, it seemed like the perfect life but as his brain became infatuated with the poison of power and majesty, it seemed a distant fantasy only to be left for the wind.

The door opened abruptly, Techno stomping out his boots as he kicked the entranceway shut. He shook the snow from his clothing, and you pushed yourself to stand. He grabbed one of the candles, using it to light a few of the others beside the door and blowing into his cold hands for more warmth.

You approached him, leaning on the doorframe as he pulled off his cloak. “You made it back,” you chirped, hoping to mask the utter relief washing through your body. His ruby eyes flashed to you, a softness in them that warmed your heart.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, reaching one of his hands out to you to angle the cut on your face towards him. He inspected that cut at least three times a day and if you would let yourself indulge on the thought, it might have just been an excuse to touch you.

His fingers were cold against your jaw, but you had to restrain your urge to lean into his gentle touch as his eyes grazed over the cut. “Better,” you answered with a light sigh. He looked as if he were holding back something from you, something that was plaguing his conscience.

He pulled away from you reluctantly, digging into the bag he had tossed on the table. His knuckles were red from the cold, the stack of letters in his hands appearing almost pure white. There were specks of blood sprinkled on the edge of the stack. “We found another mercenary searching for you,” he let out a soft chuckle. “I know what to look for now,” he mumbled; a small ode to you. The pair of you stared at the envelopes in his hand. “These are for you,” he added, holding them out for you. There was a seal on the last one, the design mimicking the symbol on your shoulder as it wrapped around the letter ‘D.’

You swallowed, hesitantly taking them from him. He watched you carefully as you examined them, your hands shaking from the anticipation of what was in them and why there were so many. “Did you read them?” You asked; the pads over your finger tracing over the broken seal of the top one.

He shook his head. “Only enough to find out they were for you,” he assured. You trusted that fact. “I’ll leave you alone with them. I need to clean up anyway,” he illustrated, eyes scanning you as you stared down at them. He seemed to have a hesitancy to him as if he were reluctantly giving them to you, wanting to know what it meant for your future.

You nodded slowly, unable to find more words as you threaded the dark green ribbon binding them together through your fingers. Your stomach churned, knotting together as if you were awaiting punishment.

As you sank into one of the chairs, Techno left your side wearily, looking over his shoulder at you before closing the door behind him. You opened the letter he had already seen after counting at least eight letters in the stack. Your mind got fuzzy after eight. The seal was dusted with soft gold. You had always found random flowers to give the appearance of wealth and prestige to your letters when you were sending them back and forth to each other. You figured that it was real gold this time since the color didn’t stain your skin while you brushed over it.

Your heart hammered in your ears, thumb drawing against the blood that had seeped through as you read his words, his voice whispering in your ear with each curl of his handwriting.

The next letter sounded similar, detailing what had become of some of your old teams and idols. He had removed the mad King’s advisors, flushing them with his own. Each word you read weighed heavy on your heart until you figured you couldn’t take any more of the venom in his ink. The sickening nature of him begging for your return made your nerves flip. He was an old friend of yours, brought up through the orphanages as your twin practically, but that didn’t mean you trusted the man that he had grown into being. The boy you had once known was now in shreds, held together by the façade he was hiding behind.

You stood, throwing the letters into the fire and standing back, breathing rigid into your chest. Your ankle began to ache, but you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to look away. With Dream’s threats, you knew you had to leave.

“He calls you ‘hemlock,’” Techno mumbled, his voice coming out in a questioning tone, hesitant of overstepping the unspoken boundaries the two of you had set for each other. He played with his fingers, back pressed against the wall behind him as he avoided stepping into your space. He gave you an emotionless look as if refusing to show his true feelings on the situation. You weren’t sure what he thought of you after diving into that letter. “Almost like you’re some kind of…” he paused, chewing on his lip as his eyes fell to the hardwood floor and then back to your gaze. “Malice,” he finished.

Your mouth grew dry, feeling small and vulnerable in front of him. You inhale deeply, attempting to steady your nerves. “It’s always been some kind of joke for him,” you responded. You weren’t sure if you were defending Dream or fishing for Techno’s assurance.

He nodded. “It’s not very funny, is it?” You shook your head quickly, suddenly finding it difficult not to cry. It had been too long of a day for you. Techno watched you, surveying eyes waiting for you to ground yourself.

He took a few steps, sitting down and motioning you toward him. You silently took a seat at his feet, eyes trained on the fire in front of you as his scent surrounded you. You crossed your legs, taking a deep breath once again. His hands moved into your hair, softly running his fingers along the crown of your head as he separated your short locks. His touch was gentle and calming, brushing against your ear as he braided.

You closed your eyes, letting him relax you and bring you back from your frizzled edges. He was quiet while he worked, your mind silencing to only focus on his fingers. You could swear that you had never felt more at ease than you did then. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely audible, worry that if you spoke louder he would hear the extent of your distress.

His hands moved to your shoulders, finished with his words as his fingers rolled against the knots forming. You settled your cheek against his hand. “I’m not going to ask for an explanation,” he began, his thumb pressing between your shoulder blades in a sensitive spot. You focused back on the flames, eyelids feeling heavy. “But I need to know if you’re okay.”

You mulled over his words as he loosened the tension weighing on your mind. “I’m okay.”

⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ⸫

The next morning, you were setting your plates on the counter, listening to Techno chop wood outside. The front door clicked open in a rush, a man stepping inside and throwing off his hood. His brown eyes bore into you with a wave of lingering anger you recognized in the eyes of someone when you had been on the other end of their blade. He was increasingly tall, like Techno, but his features were more child-like and innocent, apart from his eyes.

He went after you, lunging for your body as you swiveled out of his path, grabbing onto the knife beside you. Your fingers gripped onto the back of his collar, pinning him to the table with a loud thud. The blade was resting against his throat as the two of you panted, him from being caught off guard and you from being dormant for so long.

He gritted his teeth as you pressed the blade tighter to his neck. “Who are you?” You bit. His Adam’s apple bobbled against the metal as he swallowed, catching his breath.

“I see you two have met,” Techno called, a tired look in his eyes as he spotted the man beneath you.

The brunet chuckled, the sound coming out more like a frustrating example of fear than a true laugh. “I like your new guard dog, Tech,” he mumbled, spitting at you. You pursed your lips, striking the blade against his cheek to draw a bit of blood and making him wince.

Techno rested his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms. The man’s hand reached to brush the collar of your shirt to the side, his eyes focusing on the branded symbol on your shoulder. His breath was warm against your chest as his expression changed. You continued to glare at him. “It really is her, isn’t it?” He muttered, betrayal evident in his tone. You searched his face as his eyes met yours.

“This is Wilbur,” Techno stated, moving towards the two of you. You pulled away from him, letting him up as Techno stood beside you. Wilbur’s hand reached up to brush away the line of blood trickling from his fresh wound.

Wilbur straightened up, digging into his pocket to pull out a wadded-up piece of paper. He unfolded it slapping it on the table where he had just been laid out by you. Bold letters spelled out the terms of your arrest and the price on your head. There was a crude drawing of what you used to look like staring back at you as you took half a step behind Techno’s arm.

Wilbur stiffened and it hit you. He wasn’t actually after you rather than worried for Techno’s safety. Concern was painted across his face at just how close the two of you were standing as he gestured to the Wanted poster. “I’m not sure what she’s told you, but I know I’m right,” he pleaded. It struck you that the two had previously discussed trading you into the authorities. You weren’t surprised, mainly because before you knew Techno, you would have done the same. “Think of the money. You could actually retire. Give up babysitting-“

Techno cut him off. “No,” he answered flatly, shocking you. “We’ve already talked about this.” You stepped back, leaning against the counter to relieve the weight on your ankle. Techno peered over his shoulder briefly, as if feeling you step away from him.

Wilbur shook his head in disbelief. “They’re going to continue to look for her. It’s not safe.”

Techno shrugged, indifferent towards the look Wilbur was giving him. It made you sick to think of the divide you were causing. “We’ll get her name changed then.”

You raised your eyebrows as Techno chuckled, moving to finish your job as Wilbur looked between the two of you. “Yeah, and how are you going to accomplish that?”

Without a beat, Techno replied, “I guess I’ll marry her.”

Your breath hitched, facing flushing a deep red, but before you could reply, someone else barged in; a blond panting slightly as he doubled over to catch his breath. The two men looked upon the boy, waiting for him to stop wheezing. “Tommy, go home. It’s not safe here,” Wilbur commented. His gaze shifted to you. “Techno’s harboring a murderer.”

So, this was Techno’s famous Tommy; a boy barely older than sixteen and tall enough that he could knock your head off your shoulders with a flex of his elbow.

“Wilbur, we can’t give her up. Who knows what will happen,” he groaned, standing up and putting his arms above his head. You wondered just how far he had run to get to Techno’s. “You weren’t there when we found her.” He looked to the side, giving you a half-wave as he attempted to steady his breathing. If they weren’t discussing such intricate matters, you would have giggled at him.

Instead, you cleared your throat. “I’m leaving soon anyway. There’s no need-“

Techno interrupted you. “No. No one’s going anywhere, okay?” He sighed. “Obviously, we can handle ourselves. If not, at least let her get back on her feet before you excommunicate her from my house, Wilbur,” he adjudicated, his tone quipping as if to suggest that Wilbur’s opinion on the matter wasn’t holding water. “Tommy’s right anyway. You don’t know what it was like.”

Wilbur chewed the inside of his cheek, glaring at you. You felt hot and uncomfortable under his gaze as if he were hexing you secretly. He sighed, grabbing onto Tommy’s arm as he brushed past you, knocking into your sore side. “One wrong move and I’ll kill you,” he stated. You could tell he wasn’t normally such an antagonist, and you respected his devotion to Techno.

You nodded. “I’ll let you.”

Tag List: (to be added, please follow this link :))

@udontneedtokno @cyanflowers @more-like-reyna @deepestofwaters @sparkletash @aroyaldarknessbr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @victory-is-here @valkyrieidunn @cdizzlevalntyne @simpforblockguys @ribbitsworld @victoria-a567 @miiilliiee @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @roryann04 @book-of-anarchy @lightdreamy @hiccupofttea @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea

#technoblade x reader #techno x you #techno fanfic #techno x reader #techno au #technoblade au #technoblade fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #tw blood #tw injury #tw knife

[uchihashisuii]

Okay this is just a rambling about some Nara tradition headcanon cause I love those funky little deer bastards. I also borrowed @queen-tabris ‘s OC Kairi sorry if I ruined her in this skfjfkdf

Set in the Nara family AU wherein Akari took in both Sai and Shin

-----

Akari paints her face with the tips of her fingers, dipping into a bowl with carvings of stags with horns locked. She expertly drags trails of burnished copper across fair skin, bringing to life the whirls and lines and spots of Yasu, the doe she had bonded with in childhood. Sai watches her, crouched behind her cracked open bedroom door, and wonders what it means.

Most others use a brush to paint their face, he notices, when mama's cousins and friends pile into their house for a Nara festival he doesn't remember the name of. The result is more clean and orderly, in a dozen more colors than the red mama uses; done slowly and lovingly as they reproduce the patterns and shades of their bonded deer.

Mama's is more wild, like her own mother's speckles and Auntie Kairi's swirls. But Sai doesn't think it is any less loving than those who spend much longer on getting their markings perfect. As gentle as they are, deer are still fierce. There is a lot about nature that is disorderly, and they show their understanding for it in crimson splashes and jagged lines.

-----

It is red because the mixture they paint themselves with is mostly blood, he finds out when he's a bit older. Not many use it anymore, his grandmother nodding sagely and telling him and his sibling that their branch still keeps to the old ways. The wild ways, of gnashing teeth and locked horns and the chaos of animals. Most Nara use a mix of crushed metals to create their dozen hues and colours, showing love and respect in their own way.

But not Akari. Not Jun and Kairi and a few others, enough to count on two hands and have fingers to spare. They remember and understand that nature provides, that everything is a cycle. They spill their own blood in honor of the blood they spill, to show the deer that hunter and prey they might be, but will honor the animals in every way they can.

-----

They paint themselves sparingly; an old tradition they only adhere to when the weather cools and the harvest comes to an end.

"For the ending of the season, and the birth of a new one," Akari tells her sons as they trek through the deepest reaches of the forest. Nature is a cycle.

She brings them to an ancient shrine comprised of earth and rock, unlike any they had seen before. Four long stones stacked together, waist-high, with a monolith bracketing each side. There are carved writings in a language he doesn't recognize, but Sai runs his fingertips down the runes regardless, feeling a warmth in his chest. Akari places a palm over the smooth surface of the top of the shrine, a smile curving her mouth.

Her children sit with her as the tells them the old stories, of the deer being messengers of the gods and the bygone Nara who worshipped them. They would bring offerings of incense and fruit at the beginnings of winter, to thank the deer for all they had done over the past year. And to apologize for those deer who hadn't been swift or silent enough, falling victim to a hunters blade. Nature provides, especially to a hungry or cold or sickly human; a deer providing more than any other.

-----

The changing of the seasons brings with it the coming of age for Nara children. For two days they scatter into the woods, with the goal of returning with a hunted deer. Proving to the clan that you are now grown, able to provide for and protect family. If not returned by sunset of the second day, then a fawn you'll remain until the next year. They paint their faces to celebrate children growing up, and Akari asks Sai and Shin both if they think they are ready to face it.

-----

Akari's face was first painted at 14 by her mother's hand with a mix of their blood and that of the stag she and Kairi had presented to the clan leader. According to the cousins, they had the stag downed within the first afternoon, and had only barely made it back in time because "dragging that bloody great bastard took more effort than shooting it through the eye."

Kairi had screamed her triumph the moment they returned, fist raised to the sky. Akari had made a clean cut of the stag's antlers, offering the rack to her healer mother before falling to her knees from exhaustion. Apt symbolism for the two girls, their mothers recalled with fond smiles. Hearing that story was the only time Sai and Shin saw their mother cringe with both embarrassment and an odd sense of pride.

-----

You must bring an offering to the clan head, Akari reminds them the first morning, checking their weapons and packs. She hovers just shy of too much, Shisui watching with arms crossed over his chest. Stark lines of black and red line his eyes, reminiscent of feathers sweeping back across his temples. He had not bonded with a deer but - but perhaps he had, his connection with his fierce and gentle wife something no one can put a name too aside from together for life.

"You've never had to prove you're a Nara," Akari says as she kneels in front of Shin and Sai, palms curving over the backs of their heads and pulling them close. Their breath mingles and Sai can smell the sharp copper bleeding from her paint. "There was nothing to prove. The moment you came into my life you became mine; my family. But now you must prove yourselves hunters. An ancient rite, to earn your markings. Be swift, be silent. Good hunting."

And then they're off, darting into the forest as the rest of the Nara stand together, hollering and singing and waving off children who will return grown.

-----

They return just before sunset on the second day, (They really are their mother's children, aren't they?) the sun setting on their backs as they walk through the crowd of their family with heads held high. The Nara are deep in celebration, feasting and dancing and singing and laughing together as one, painted faces and naked faces and a stark celebration of life and growth. Akari stands the moment she spots her children, her traditional kimono pooling around her feet as the sleeves brush the dirt, blood in artful whirls across her cheeks and nose. Shisui at her side, sharingan spinning to life as his mouth curves into a grin when he spots their childrens' mostly empty hands.

Shin and Sai kneel, shoulder-to-shoulder, as they offer the gains of their hunt: thick strips of velvet, and not the stag it belonged to. Shikaku raises a brow as he stands, the browns and whites of his markings standing out.

Shin tells the tale; how they and their brother tracked and hunted on swift and silent feet, as their mother taught them. A stag with a strong rack falling to twin arrows in the skull, a clean kill. But left behind; the brothers only returning with sections of the antlers as offering.

"Nature provides," Shin clarifies, their tone steady and clear, "but not only to us, not only for humans. We have no need to bring it back here, not when it could instead be returned to the forest. A gift and feast for the wolves and the bears and the carrion birds, left for them on the old alter in the deepest part of the forest."

A small sound escapes Akari's mouth at their words, eyes going wide. The lessons she had imparted had struck as true as any arrow. They had felled a great beast and took only what was necessary; strips of velvet, to heal any hurt. At her side, Shisui chuckles at the mention of birds, leaning close to nip at her ear in teasing.

Pride swells beneath her breast the moment Shikaku laughs, deep and warm as he reaches to place a palm on the top of Shin and Sai's heads, bowing low at the waist.

"Rise then, children of the forest. Join your siblings in the ancient rite, and stand alongside us full-fledged Nara."

Akari does not weep as she paints their faces for the very first time, joy and pride clear on her face. They ask for the old way, and mama dips her fingers into a bowl of all their blood mixed with that of the stag they had felled. And together they dance and feast and give thanks for all that nature provides, hunters and healers and family.

#naruto #the nara family au #jules writes #akari #shikari

[geekys-corner]

Mind listing the OCs/personas and a couple facts about them? (Might help with questions lol)

Sure! I’ve written 16 below lmao *sticks in a read more*

Anthony - Originally my version of Anti, he’s now a sweet bean who really likes plants. In his backstory and the start of his story, he was found in a tiny pocket dimension inside his old apartment while he and the place around him fell into disrepair with the only thing truly alive being his plants. After losing his entire family, he was very fragile and hurt himself quite a bit, but my other characters rescued him and nursed him back to health and stability!

Onyx - My angsty punk dude who I adore. He is on the autistic spectrum and is mostly non-verbal, once going 4 months without speaking before breaking the silence to tell his best friend that Viggo Mortenson broke his toe in that one scene in Lord of the Rings. They have a twin sister who is 13 minutes older and a firm witch while he is a firm nonbeliever. Sometimes he goes to the junkyard with a baseball bat to let out their anger.

Leon - His backstory is very dark so I won’t get into it, but he’s a very shy bean with one arm and a love for sewing. He has the fluffiest light pink hair, and is just the embodiment of pastel.

Kyle - The older brother of the duo! He’s friends with Onyx and also has a punk look with spiked blue hair, but he’s an absolute sweetheart! He’s eight years older than his brother, and ran away with him when he was a newborn to escape their abusive mother. He raised Joey on his own in the streets, escaping care systems that would split them apart and shove them in to foster homes, and grew up to be completely independent, albeit unaware of what it is like to have a loving family besides his brother. He may be quick to resort to fight or flight to protect his brother and grumpy to strangers, but he’s built them a good life!

Joseph - The little brother! Joey is a smart little kid, (ranging from 10 - 14 depending) with very bright ginger hair and freckles. He’s on the far side of the autistic spectrum and is completely nonverbal, but he’s very expressive, spunky, and loving whenever he’s able to. He adores peanut butter and milkshakes, and would very happily have them six times a day. While he can’t speak, he will send Kyle countless facts from astronomy or marine life through text at any time of day or night. He’s always seen in his blue skateboarding frog hoodie, a beetle backpack filled with his supplies, and his headphones and tablet. He loves to draw and he’s great at it, and always draws sharks, especially whale sharks.

Caelan - Another punk, but this time in bird form. He is a griffin, and in some AUs a dude with prosthetic feet. He has messy blond hair covering his eyes and is based around an Egyptian falcon. He’s very quick witted and very annoying to people who don’t know him, but would go to hell and back for his family. 

Marioma - The model of a modern major general- this dude is the only one like him, meaning he has no AU counterparts! He’s different from my other characters since he’s technically self-aware, and acts in my stories if and when I want him to! He’s a grumpy, determined dude who’s trying to quit smoking per request of his boyfriend, Arthur. Before him, he was a sly, hardened, and cunning man who needed someone to rely on who wouldn’t die on him.

Arthur - Foster fails: 5. He owns a bookstore in the universe he inhabits and, just like Mari, he’s one of a kind! He lives the ideal rainy city aesthetic, with an apartment above his store with open windows, plants, cosy blankets and homemade food, handmade clothing, and animals. He’s got curly hair and his scarf is his comfort item, and he takes in animals if and when he can. He and Mari just live a comfortable life :’)

Clyde - A duo with Anthony, he was originally a version of Henrik, but is now completely different. This boy is a classic OC and therefore my teenage angst punching bag. He’s a doctor in his husband Lucas’ mafia, and is very strong-willed and the biggest sweetheart. He has water powers that I always forget about, and could very easily drown someone if he wanted to. Besides that, he does cry a lot over small things, and Lucas has walked in on him crying over their cat in a business-tie.

Levi - If he and Clyde fused, they’d make Henrik. He’s my 55 year old doctor who just the embodiment of grumpy cat and expresso. He’s very lanky and has joint problems after trauma in his late 20s, and sometimes you can hear his bones cracking as he walks. He has, can, and will slap the sense into Clyde when he needs to and hated him to begin with, but warmed up to him. But, he’s completely different to his husband Sage, and in the end, is a very caring guy who won’t take any shit. He’s also therapist, and gives sessions to most of my OCs- (he’s also the doctor at the end of Don’t Leave! Dr Allison!)

Tyrell (Cloak) - So I split the same OC into two halves, essentially from two AUs but in one? They’re not twins, they’re the same guy with separate families but they’re the same. They’re both POC with the same face, hair texture etc. Cloak-Ty is very grumpy, and is called Cloak because of the cloak he wears in his fantasy-based AUs! He wears an eye patch and lost his eye depending on the AU, and went through a lot. You can tell he’s angsty because half of his hair is buzzed off. He tried to push away his now-husband Demitri, but luckily he’s an absolute himbo who doesn’t know when to quit, and eventually melted through the icy layer to a loving, sarcastic, hard-working man.

Tyrell (Ponytail) - Same as above description wise! He’s taller and buff with a ponytail. He went through the same backstory, but was found by Daniel who took him to Lucas’ mafia where they recovered together and eventually fell in love. Half of his face is badly burned and the eye has pin-hole vision, but it doesn’t stop him from being the best sniper on the team. When at home, he loves tea, hanging with his family, and painting. He’s amazing at watercolour and earns money on the side from selling his work! Sometimes he and Dan team up and draw together!

Bloodbranded:

Wayde - He lives in the Winter Forest Region and hunts for his family with his exceptional archery skills. He’s witty and pretty spontaneous, making him good under pressure, but incredibly reckless. He has a bad claw scar across his right eye which cuts into his hair, but he can see just fine! He has beautiful green eyes with central heterochromia, so they turn brown in the centre. While he may be annoying and hot-headed, he cares a whole bunch and grows as a person to fall in love with Milo. He’s a hopeless romantic and protective as all hell, even when Milo can handle himself just fine.

Felicity - She wasn’t born in the WFR like Wayde, she was adopted by her two mothers and is Wayde’s cousin! She’s a POC with beautiful dark skin, and her parents style her hair in unique braids that are decorated by gold rings. She’s a magic user and a very skilled one at that, even when she’d just started out, and wishes to revive the old form of magic that had been taken over by the modern, corrupted magic form that’s based entirely on nepotism. She uses a staff and a book, and is clumsy to start out, but soon becomes a mage to be admired, or feared if you’re an enemy!

Milo - Unlike Felicity and Wayde, he was born in the desert region, and ends up in the WFR by mistake (which is a vast change in temperature for him). Because of the contrast in temperature, he’s always wrapped up in winter clothes, even in places where the others are sleeveless, just because he’s spent his whole life in the heat! When he’s at home, he lives with his Mother and goes out to collect lightning glass after the nightly storms to sell and turn into jewellery or windows etc. Milo was born deaf and uses sign language to communicate. He’s smart, energetic, and excited to see new things, but can handle himself with ease, and knows how to take care of himself through quick thinking and fighting skills from living in the desert. When he and Wayde start dating, he likes coming up behind him and cuddling him or giving him quick kisses!

Prism - Much like their name, they are very colourful. They are a dragon hybrid and live in a kingdom of others like them, but unlike any other dragon, their scales are - like their name - prisms. They gradient between rainbows across their body, but each scale has a rainbow shimmer when they move. Their wings are like stained glass, and their hair (as of now, it might change) is like labradorite! Prism is mute and doesn’t express much, usually communicating through eye rolls. They live as the King’s new heir after he took them in as he believes Prism is the symbol of their kingdom and species’ beauty. Because of this, they are completely untouched by any blade and don’t have a single blemish or scar as to preserve them. Many guards have died to prevent them from obtaining even the slightest scratch. Beyond their anxiety, they join the crew and act as the voice/sign of reason! Even if they are assigned to their kingdom, they soon learn that their friends truly care about them more than their appearance.

That’s most of my OCs, this is already super long so I don’t want to drag it on! If anyone is interested in any OC, feel free to drop an ask, I’d love to write one shots or answer questions! <3 ^^

#geekyfox1's ocs #oc #oc list #bloodbranded #bloodbranded development #oc description

[phoenixyfriend]

I want to see a soulmate timetravel AU that's Gai/Hashirama

Because, like...  God, the mental image of Gai and Hashirama interacting. Hashirama would love him. Also, Gai might make the perfect time-travel au character, because... He would just do things. No plan. Or if he tried to plan, he would immediately give it up the first time something crossed his path that he decided on the spot needed a good Dynamic Entry.

(What's Zetsu gonna do, stop him?)

(Gai can't track down Zetsu, but he can go to various clans and just be Really, Really Sincere until they help him do it.)

The man fought Jinchuuriki Madara without dying, ergo I suggest just throwing Might Guy into the middle of a Senju/Uchiha battle and seeing what happens.

He'd just. He'd just beat the shit out of everyone while also stopping most of them from killing each other. They'd end up working together to fight him and he's just Grinning and complimenting their sudden improvement in teamwork. HE'S JUST REALLY SINCERE ABOUT THINGS, and really good at fighting an army of sharingan-users.

Like, no subtlety to what he's doing, but the thing is, if you can't actually stop him, then him not being subtle isn't an exploitable weakness.

...............most of Hashirama's plants are brown because wood, but he can 100% grow a forest in green. Which Gai Green Green

Gai is. Such a force for Chaos, but he's so sincere, and so kind, that all the Chaos would settle perfectly into Peace. He'd earn Madara's respect in combat, he'd earn Hashirama's respect over a conversation about philosophy that was actually a lot deeper than it sounded on the surface but also was just the surface conversation at the same time, meanings within meanings but all of them open.

Gai has no more idea of how he got to the past than a horse in a hospital. Gai in Founders Era is just Zetsu's Horse in a Hospital moment.

Gai: Hey let's all be friends and make a village together now that we've all gotten to know each other and bonded over our shared love of being Really Nice and Punching Stuff Good, respectively for Hashirama and Madara. Zetsu: That's what I thought you'd say you dumb fucking ninja.

Zetsu: I have sent a Ninja Killer to deal with the Ninja Gai: I fired Beat Up the Ninja Killers. Zetsu: ...can he do that? Kakuzu: Yes. Also you owe me triple my retainer and I refuse to attack that man again under any circumstances.

IDK how Mito fits in. Poly, maybe, or she marries Tobirama instead? HashiGai probably can't make kids, so heirs are needed.

Madara, watching Gai take Hashirama's hand and shake it at the speed of light, both of them smiling like the sun: I think I'm going blind.

Gai runs up to Kurama, shouts his name, and starts monologuing about Youth and Peace and The Sage and Kurama's just sitting there like "Where the FUCK did you come from and why the HELL do you know my name?"

Gai monologues about Peace and the power of Youth while fighting an army with nothing but his Bare Hands, and maybe nunchucks. No blades, no summons, no ninjutsu, just a man with muscles and a heart of gold.

I could also feasibly ship Gai with pre-losing-the-plot Madara. Not Tobirama, though, I feel like Tobirama would be very "You are WAY too much like my brother" to take interest in Gai.

(As per usual, brainstormed with @firebirdeternal.)

#Senju Hashirama #Maito Gai #Might Guy #Uchiha Madara #Zetsu #Kakuzu #Time Travel #Phoenix Posts #soulmate au #Naruto #HashiGai

[electra-pylades]

The Great  Sakura Haruno Fanfiction Recommendation List

Otherwise known as my September 2019 Fanfiction Roundup 

The Get-Goods: In which our girl Sakura gets to train and become the bad ass she was always meant to be. (most romantic pairings are minimal). 

Retrograde Motion by Crunchysunrises -  From sixteen to eleven didn't feel like a big jump until she realized that she was now the best ninja in their class. And that tiny Sasuke hates her for it. [My all time favorite Naruto fanfic. Funny and filled with incredible world building. This is what canon Naruto wishes it was]

Expedient by SwiftKick - Konoha and Iwa sign a truce and agree to an Exchange Program between recently promoted genin to "bolster village relations." Fortunately, if anything were to go wrong, Haruno Sakura was just average enough to risk losing. [This one really plays with the idea of Sakura as a Redshirt and what that would do to your psyche. There’s some Deidara/Sakura, but it’s mostly focused on her growth.]

a girl in the forest of moss and bone by theformerone -  Katsuyu spits acid in her eyes, and Sakura must prove herself worthy enough for the slugs of Shikkotsu Forest to heal. [Sakura goes to Shikkotsu Forest to become a Slug Sage. This one feels like Naruto by way of Princess Mononoke.] 

Pulling My Weight by itsthechocopuff - During their mission to Wave, Sakura realises how behind she is in her training and decides to do something about it. She vows to become a shinobi her Village and her teammates can respect and depend on.

Survival of the Fittest by  cywscross -  Sakura is thirteen, still a Genin, lost in the middle of Earth Country, lugging an unconscious Chuunin around, and so far beyond scared that she’s moved right on to pissed off.

How To Save The World With No One Even Realizing by IncompleteSentanc (Erava) - It all starts with Rin's kidnapping, and her subsequent rescue at the hands of a mysteriously appearing, monstrously strong, murderously violent woman. A woman with cotton candy pink hair.

Kill Your Heroes by Evil Is A Relative Term - It's time to stop waiting for other people to save you. A story about fear, resilience, and Sakura.

Dirt and Ashes, or: The One-and-a-Half Body Problem by Tozette -  The invasion of Konoha during the chuunin exam didn't fail. Team seven is broken, people are dead, and Sakura is hurt and frightened and a very long way from home.

ABO:  In which ABO Fics treat the female characters better than the canon. 

Gratuitous Title Here, Please by Esloriath -  Sakura Haruno has hidden her omega status for as long as she can remember. What happens when an unplanned fight with the Akatsuki drains her of her last chakra reserves - those she uses to mask her scent?

Taken by MistressDragonFlame - Haruno Sakura was an Omega. She didn't let her status hold her back, becoming a Jounin of Konohagakure, a disciple of the Godaime Hokage, and the strongest shinobi in the village. All she had to ensure was that she managed her heats, and kept a respectful distance between herself and her Alpha teammates.

Heart Under a Blade by yunyu -  Kakashi suspects the universe is out to punish him for his failures in the most poetic and painful matter possible, but he's pretty sure he deserves it.

YOUNGins: In which our baby is a baby - and also a bad ass. 

The Flowers Cherish You by  ich_bin_ein_stern -  Nature has always cared for Sakura and Sakura has always loved nature. They have a beautiful, strong bond. But can such a bond withstand the tragedies that follow a shinobi's life? 

About Face by  wroth_and_ruin  - A little yellow-haired boy saves Sakura from the bullies. And everything changes.

Time Flies Like an Arrow by  Katlou303 -  Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's four years old having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.

Freedom in the Eyes of Another by Oroburos69 -   The Wave Mission was a failure. They got caught, captured, taken-it didn't end well. Now Sakura has a half-heard order, uncut fingernails, and more desperation than bravery. One way or another, she's getting Team Seven out today.

ROMANCE: 

How & Why by  randomsomeone - A psychological war gets completely out of control. Lust doesn't cut it and love doesn't just happen, so how else can it work? [One of the all time Greats. Gaara/Sakura]

Heartbeat by letmeannoyyoutoday -  From the beginning of their relationship, Sakura never failed to thank Sasuke for every little gesture that he made. It took a while for him to realize that the reason she did it was because, the moment she accepted to be his wife and give him all that she had left to give, she honestly never expected to receive anything in return. [One of the few stories that made me really care about this couple. SasuSaku]

In Case of Blue Scroll by Leola Majora -   In Case of Blue Scroll the Hokage must lock himself in his office and pull his hair out as what he thought were memories of a long lost love turn out to be the memories of a mission he was about to assign his former student, Sakura Haruno.

Roommates From Hell (and Other Miscalculations) by Crunchysunrises -  Itachi has a girlfriend.  So does Kakashi.

Ikebana by waitingatthecrossroads -  She should never have caught his attention. Pursued by a prodigy, can Sakura manage to escape Itachi's determined clutches? Will she even want to?

CROSS OVERS and AUs 

Menagerie by Crunchysunrises -  Twelve of Konohagakure's shinobi are cursed by the animals of the zodiac. Most of them are pretending to be Sakura's pets. [Fruits Basket meets Naruto] 

The Natural Habitat of Haruno Sakura by Tozette - Sakura moves to a new town to attend university and desperately needs to find a cheap room in a share house.Luckily, the Akatsuki need a new housemate.

#sakura haruno #naruto #fanfic #fanfic recs #sasusaku #deisaku #kakasaku #sakura fic #abo fic recs #itasaku #strong sakura #mokuton #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction recs #itachi #sasuke #a canon so broken #that only fanfic can fix the misogyny #and the plot holes #and the bad world building #Let's take a badly treated female character #and give her the agency she deserves

[sunnywritesstuff34]

Found

(Working on my wips??? never heard of it. Hears an entirely different au then the other one I posted, which I will write more of. At some point. For now, Boruto brain rot has gotten to me, so here’s a weird au where Hinata had the two kids and then died and then Naruto took the kids and left the village under mysterious circumstances. Have fun, try to follow it as best as you can. You don’t need to watch Boruto to know what’s going on here. Just know that Naruto left the village with his kids in tow and they have no idea that they’re from Konoha. Oh and just like everything else this will probably be sns at some point because I am weak. Tell me if you like this one)

TW and CW for: potential parental death, implied past parental death, cursing, death, blood, children navigating traumatizing situations, probably medically inaccurate but its a fanfiction about gay ninjas so sue me, tell me if I miss anything this one isn’t too bad. 

His father is dying and Boruto can't think. 

He should do something, say something. Come up with a funny, stupid one liner or whatever. But he can't. He can't do fucking anything at all. Sometimes his brain feels like it's made of jelly, sloshing around uselessly in his head when he desperately needed to use it. The rain was coming down in torrents, a downpour that they hadn't expected. The giant trees stretch out above them and form a canopy as they stand at the forest floor, but the canopy isn't enough to stop the rain from reaching them. Boruto’s clothes are soaked through; sticking to his body. Thankfully the storm was warm, a summer downpour rather than an icy tsunami. But he didn't notice the rain, and he probably wouldn’t have given a damn anyway. His father was laying in the grass, the wound on his chest staining the green with crimson. Boruto desperately tried to use every healing technique he could remember, funneling chakra into his hands in a desperate attempt to close the wound. He was sixteen years old, his father had trained him in almost every technique he knew (mostly for defense), but truthfully, Naruto had never been good at healing jutsu either. So, Boruto’s skill was lacking in this area, and it was going to get his father killed. He couldn't weasel his way out of this one like he usually did, and that was becoming abundantly clear. His father had gotten nervous, Boruto was aware of that when they went there. They needed to draw close to Konohagakure to get across the Land of Fire and back home to Wave Country before winter set in, and that had immediately set Naruto on edge for some reason. Boruto didn't bother questioning it, he knew he wouldn't get any answers. Everything had been going fine, they were making good time, but then they got ambushed by bandits, and everything had happened so fast. It was all Boruto's fault, really. If he hadn't kept his father up so late the night before, he would have realized something was wrong earlier and managed to fend them off easily. Typically any opponent was no match for Boruto’s father, but none of them had been paying attention and the ambush was almost perfectly timed. Naruto scared them off and nearly got himself killed in the process, and now Boruto was here, stuck in time. He dimly felt a tug on his sleeve and vaguely registered Himawari talking to him. 

“Is he gonna die?” she whispered. Boruto didn't even think about the question.

“No,” he answered immediately, letting the chakra fade from his fingertips and opting to just stop the bleeding manually instead, pressing on the wound. He was running out of time, there was so much blood and he could hardly get it to slow down and what would he do if- he felt the presence of ninja before he saw them, and that fully snapped him back to reality. Boruto forgot about his father for a second and whirled towards the other side of the clearing, shoving Himawari behind him. He had to protect her, that was the prerogative. He threw kunai blindly in that direction, three of them. The shinobi dodged the blades easily and then began advancing. 

His eyes settled on the squad of shinobi standing in the grass as they assessed him. He grabbed another kunai from his pocket and flipped it into his hand, angling it outwards. Boruto narrowed his eyes. Ninja were never good news, rogue or otherwise. These didn't seem rogue, and that was probably for the best. Still, loyal shinobi could be just as dangerous. Could be even more so, and he had Himawari to think about. The clouds in his head seemed to clear. There was a woman heading the group, with platinum blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were light blue, a different color from theirs, and she seemed… welcoming, almost. Still, she had the scrutinizing gaze of a shinobi. Boruto watched her movements, careful.   

“Don't come any closer,” he growled, trying to sound as threatening as he could manage, well aware of what he looked like. The hand holding his kunai was shaking. Who was he kidding? He’d gotten injured before while his father was fighting, he couldn't protect himself in this condition, let alone Naruto and his little sister as well. Still, he had to try. “Hear me? I said- I said stay away.” He gripped the kunai tighter, waiting for them to strike, make a move, do something. His father didn't trust ninja, they were to be avoided at all costs, even if he never seemed to have any necessarily malicious feelings towards them. Still, they were never to be trifled with under an circumstance. Never let them see what I taught you, he’d tell them, the few times where Naruto was serious. Ninjutsu are considered very dangerous, especially by shinobi. If they see you using ninjutsu it could get us in serious trouble. I mean it, Boruto. God, he wished Kurama was here right now, but by the looks of it, the demon was doing everything it could just to keep Naruto alive. Fine, they could do it on their own. Of course they could. The leading woman put her hands in the air and started edging towards him slowly. Her smile looked warm. He still didn't trust it. He gritted his teeth. What was she playing at?

“Hi there. My name’s Ino. What's your name?” she asked calmly. He didn't answer. 

“It looks like something bad happened. You have someone injured behind you, it looks like they need help. If you let me I can heal them. What’s your name, kid?” Boruto hesitated. It was too good to be true. This was a trap, it had to be. She had two people behind her, two men. Someone with black hair pulled into a stark ponytail and a frown. The other looked a bit more kind, he had brown hair and welcoming eyes. He still didn't trust them, he couldn't trust this-

“Please!” Himawari shouted. Boruto blinked and before he could do anything about it, Himawari had ducked past him and was running towards the woman. 

“Himawari! Get, get back here!” he shouted desperately, mind racing. They were going to kill her, what was she thinking? Himawari was usually more cautious, smart about these things despite her age. But the shinobi seemed surprised, not angry or poised to hurt her. She ran to the woman and tugged on her sleeve. Boruto froze. 

“He’s- he’s hurt and Boruto can't help and there's blood- I, I mean i've seen blood before but this- he’s- he’s going to die, please-” the woman crouched down and smiled again, clasping Himawari’s hands gently with hers. 

“Don't worry, I'm a medical ninja. I can help your father, okay?” She glanced at Boruto as if asking permission, and he found himself stepping aside, silently urging Himawari to come back to him. He moved out of the way and she ran into his arms. He should have been thinking about her more. She was clearly terrified, and he had been too psyched out to think about it. He scooped her up easily, suddenly more at ease now that he could confirm she would be safe. Boruto watched the medical ninja like a hawk as she moved over to his father, letting the other two approach as well. When the woman got a good look at him she gasped. “By the sages! What the fuck?” she demanded, sounding more juvenile all of a sudden.  

“What? What is it?” the plump man asked, trying to get a better look. 

“It's… it's Naruto.” Boruto stiffened, holding Himawari closer to him. 

“How do you people know my dad’s name?” he demanded. He felt lightheaded, and the indignant shouts of ‘what?’ from the other ninja weren't helping. The woman ignored him for a moment, checking Naruto’s wounds. It didn't take her long to stop the bleeding and close the wound, and she stood right after and turned her attention back to Boruto.

“Listen kid, it's… it's a long story. He’s going to be alright but he needs further treatment at the hospital. We can help him if we take him back to the village.” Boruto hesitated again, but concluded he didn't have a choice. He was outnumbered and if he didn’t accept the help, whatever the ulterior motives were, Naruto would die. So Boruto nodded mutely.

“F-Fine. But you better answer me when we get back to… wherever you're taking me. And- and she stays with me,” he said, nodding at Himawari. The woman smiled shakily, clearly rattled by some realization about Boruto’s father. The larger man picked him up and carried him easily. So Boruto watched, hopeless, as they took his father away, and followed close behind, arm still wrapped around Himawari. He would lecture her about rash actions later, now wasn't the time. The man with long black hair was studying him, and he didn't like it. Boruto glared. “What?” he snapped. The man raised an eyebrow. 

“I'm Shikamaru Nara,” he said. “What about you?” Boruto looked away. 

“I… B-Boruto… Namikaze,” he said with finality. Boruto Uzumaki, he wanted to say. Descendant of Uzushiogakure, grand daughter of Kushina Uzumaki. But he didn't trust these people to share his real name, instead going with the one their father used occasionally. Shikamaru snorted.

“Original name,” he muttered. Boruto only frowned. “Well, alright. Your sister, it looks like she has Byakugan. Does she?” Boruto blinked.

“Byaku- Byaku… what?”

“Hm. Nevermind. C’mon, while your father’s in the hospital, i'll take you to see the Hokage.”

#oh boy #back at it again #boruto is a little less juvenile then he is in the show #but he's also older and I figured living on the run will do that to you #also himawari is smarter then he gives her credit for #she saw Ino and everybody and was immediatly like can trust and that was that #stay tuned for a very very awkward sasuke #trying to navigate talking to his oldest crush's kids #and coping with the betrayel that came with Naruto leaving in the first place. #speaking of that #why did naruto leave? #he had a reason #but thats for later <3 #naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #boruto #naruto uzumaki #in this au nart is a good dad #and Kurama is a coparent #stay tuned for that #boruto uzumaki #himawari #himawari uzumaki #Himawari looks just like Hinata and it hurt ino a little to see her #oh boy oh boy #forgot how much fun it was to write this au #i've got pieces of it stored somewhere #boruto next generation #boruto fanfiction

[witchyhobbitess]

“Small” excerpt from a Hobbit AU I’m currently working on.

This is the very first time I have ever shared my writing, constructive criticism is always welcome. I’ve read it so many times I think my eyes are immune to mistakes.

The work is currently untitled.

POSSIBLE WARNINGS: near death, afterlife, mentions to battle and blood.

Chris moved methodically through the battle field. It had been horrible. He recalled how it felt to have his blade slice through poor orc armour, smell the rancid blood over the ground and see the lifeless bodies of the few elves he had come to call friend.

Why he was searching the field, Chris had no idea, he just knew he had to keep looking for-something. No, someone. And then he came to it, the large, lifeless bodies of Azog and Bolg. Without giving it another thought, Chris began pushing over the large, dead orcs. As the corpses moved, he thought he saw the bright flash of whiteish purple hair, suddenly he recognized the tiny body beneath. His little sister, Sage.

How? How did she get here? Why hadn’t the valar told Brand and him she was here as they had told the brothers they were together in this world? Lifting her seemingly broken and vey bloody body into his arms, Chris ran with everything he had to the mountain of Erabor and Brad. Brad could heal, he would heal their baby girl.

By the time Chris had made it to the front entrance of Erabor, his lungs were on fire and he couldn’t feel his body. All of him was numb with the thoughts he wasn’t fast enough to save Sage. “Brad!” Chris bellowed as he burst through the dwarves waiting for healing or helping those around them. “Brad!” Chris screamed again, louder, pushing through the company of Thorin Oakenshield and not even realizing it.

“Chris?” Brad came out of the healing wing, covered in blood and frowning. “Why on earth-“

“Sage! Its Sage. God, Brad, please, please tell me you can save her!” It took everything Chris had left to not burst into tears before seeing her off to healing.

“Sage?” Brad asked alarmed, now running over to his brother and the small woman in his arms. “Oh my god! Sage! Give her to me, Chris. Quickly”

As the small woman was passed from one brother to another, the dwarves around them looked on in shock.

***

“We can’t find the lassie anywhere, Thorin. We’ve searched everywhere, even the elves haven’t seen anything of her since just after the battle started.”

Shaking his head sadly, Thorin turned to Bofur. “Go get Kili. We have to tell him she’s gone.”

“Thorin,” Balin spoke softly. “that will break the lad. He loves her so much.”

“I know Balin. But I want him to hear it from me before he hears it from anyone else. A rumour will hurt him far greater.”

“aye.” The small group of the company stood sadly, waiting for Bofur to return with Fili and Kili. Ready to help hold up the soon to be shattered young prince.

‘Yer sure the lass won’t turn up anywhere yet thorin?” Dwalin rumbled quietly as they watched Kili walk sadly over with Fili.

“No. I don’t know what else to do though, Dwalin.” Thorin was equally heartbroken, their little mute flower had wound her way into their hearts and would never be able to be replaced. She had become family to them all through the journey. Poor Bilbo would take it just as hard as Kili when he found out, the hobbit doted on her as he would a daughter.

“You wished to speak to me uncle?” Kili’s voice was raw and broken, thorin knew it was from the hours he spent calling for Flower on the battlefield.

“I did. Kili-“ Suddenly Thorin was shoved forward with great force.

“BRAD!” Thorin and Dwalin turned to find one of the human men they had fought beside-one of the ones who refused to allow them up on raven hill. And in his arms, was Flower.

“BRAD!” Chris screamed again, louder, pushing through the company toward the surgery doors.

“Chris?” Brad came out of the healing wing, covered in blood and frowning. “Why on earth-“

“Sage! Its Sage. God, Brad, please, please tell me you can save her!” It took everything Chris had left to not burst into tears before seeing her off to healing.

“Sage?” Brad asked alarmed, now running over to his brother and the small woman in his arms. “Oh my god! Sage! Give her to me, Chris. Quickly!”

They watched as ‘Sage’ was taken into the surgery and orders were given by the other brother they had al fought with. Then they watched a guardian hit his knees and weep.

Dane stood next to him trying to get some answers. The company moving to find out more as well.

“Lad, Chris my lad.” Dane tried. “Who was that lass? Can ya tell us what’s going on?”

“It looked like our Flower.” Dwalin tried to speak gently-but he still came across gruffly. “The same lassie that led us here and helped save us today. The one that told Thorin to send for you Dane.”

Chris gulped, working to calm himself. “That was my sister. Sage.” He shook his head, to ward off more tears or to shake away what could be his last memories of her, they weren’t sure. “Brad and I knew there would be another guardian, one who would travel with you. Keep you safe, on track, pull thorin out of his dragon sickness. And-“ He swallowed again. “and kill Azog for you.” Dead hazel eyes looked up at Thorin. “If we had known, we never would have told you not to go. We never would have let her face them alone. My gods, she’s so tiny! She can’t fight! Why would they have done this to her? Why?”

Kili hit his knees. HIs one was possibly dying because she was so stubborn she had taken on the pale orc and his kin, alone. “How?” He rasped. “How could you let anyone take them on alone?” Suddenly rage bloomed in his heart. “How dare you allow any soul to fight those two alone! Let alone your own kin! You prevented me from fighting beside the love of my life, you sentenced her to possible death, for what?”

“Your lives.” Chris’ voice was dead, his pupils covering the entirety of his eyes. “She traded her life for yours. It was the deal she made on coming here. Do not be mad with her brothers, young prince, the choice was her own given to her by me. She loved all of you so much, she couldn’t bare the thought of middle earth without you. Couldn’t stand thinking you would never get to live in the home you reclaimed. She did not know of the love she would find. Do not blame them.” The voice faded and they looked into the pained eyes of Chris once more. “Visions will always be brutal.” Cursing, he placed his head between his knees and worked to breathe.

“CHRIS!” Brad roared from behind the doors. “I need you now or we will lose her!”

***

Sage floated in some sort of strange limbo. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was, it wasn’t light or dark, nor hot or cold. She simply just, was. Suddenly she felt a hard jarring on her back, still foggy, she looked around, eyes fluttering open she could have sworn she saw her brother.

“Brad?” She mumbled.

“Sage! Stay with me baby girl, stay with me.” His face swam in and out of her vision. “Oin! I need Chris and thranduil. I can’t heal her wounds alone.” Snapping his fingers before her nose Brad called to her agin. “Sage! Come on! I said stay with me!”

“Fuck you.” She whispered, but Brad couldn’t make out her words. He was losing her.

Once again, she was floating in that strange, comforting place of ‘other’. She could stay here, it was peaceful here. Something at the back of her mind kept tugging at her though, she was forgetting something important. But what was it?

The flowering path appeared before her as if she had walked through a silken wall. Flowers of all the colours she could imagine bloomed along the sides of the tiny, intricately patterned pebble path. A forest with a small cabin seemed to be set far in the distance, not knowing what pulled her to the cabin, Sage began the walk.

#hobbit #hobbit oc #the hobbit #alternate universe #everybody lives au #fili and kili #kili the dwarf #healing #near death experience #wip excerpt

[imaginesandideas]

always been you

an alternative story of Warren Worthington

pairing: Warren Worthington x reader

word count: 12.7k

content warning: depictions of wounds and injuries, mentions of violence, angst

author’s note: this is an introduction to my Professor!Warren AU series. The following part introduces Warren’s new life after the Apocalypse, his journey to self acceptance, opening up to the world and finding meaning. Little did he know that he’d find it all in one person. You.

 He was stumbling, tripping over his own feet. It felt as if darkness could swallow him whole, and in a way it did exactly that, leaving mere marionette behind. Emptied of purpose, aims, dreams. Whenever he’d roam he couldn’t stay, not for too long. Being a mutant was enough of an issue in a world full of hatred and prejudice. Who’d trust a freak with broken blades coming out of his back, all bruised and bloody. 

 “Fuck.” Warren hissed leaning against a nearby tree. 

His head was pounding, heaven knows why. Maybe it was the shitty weather, maybe alcohol, maybe all these nightmares he’s been having whenever he tried to close his eyes, maybe all of the above. Anyone else would stay away from the trees with all the lightnings gracing the sky, but really, what else could he possibly lose. If he died then, nobody would even look for him, bury him, hell, nobody would even miss him. His parents probably thought he’s been dead for years anyway so what’s the difference. He sniffled, gaze mindlessly shifting between wet grass of the field and forest. In these circumstances it seemed like an old habit. Either way he wouldn’t be even able to protect himself if someone was actually after him, but having control over his surroundings was giving him some sort of peace. Sounds funny after all he’s been through.

 Peace - he wondered closing his eyes in a selfish attempt to calm down. Selfish because he shouldn’t be allowed rest for the rest of his life. That’s what his brain would tell him. Everyday, every minute. For all the damage he’s done, for all the blood he’s shed, all the pain he’s caused. If there’s still justice anywhere in this world then it’s right here, under this tree in the middle of the storm, with nowhere else to hide. 

 It’s been minutes until he eventually passed out, remaining blades of his wings serving as additional shield. It was a loud rumble of thunder nearby that woke him. It came flashing in front of his eyes with battlefield flashbacks and ache in his back. He inhaled sharply, hands grasping at the damp soil beneath him. 

 “It’s just rain. Just some fucking rain.” He chuckled to himself. His heart rate seemed to slow down at the thought. Watery droplets run down his forehead and cheeks, nearing the corners of his mouth. He could taste his own blood, as well as salt and dirt sliding off his skin. Of course he wasn’t expecting blooming flowers on the way, but it’s been weeks since he’s had a good look at himself in the mirror and taken actual shower rather than splash water onto his sore limbs. Long months of hauling from town to town has began to bother him some time ago, mainly because now, after Apocalypse was defeated, his path was gone. Some could say he’s lost his way, but that happened long before Germany, long before all of that gore and pain.

 He could still recall his mother’s voice telling him to “find the right way” but reality where mutants are either killed or exploited struck him to the core soon after, and ever since then he just stopped looking. Why seeking the light when it doesn’t truly exist? So he started drowning in hoodlums, shady places and people who never really cared, never really stayed. Alcohol did. Only always evaporated too quickly.

 So there he was, crawling like pathetic, incomplete creature in search of someone who could put him back together. Someone who’d glue his feathers back so he could fly up to the sun one last time before crashing into the ocean. Because that’s what he was made for, right?

The loud knocking at the front door alerted everyone in the mansion. The lights were out, only few teachers awake in the kitchen and some in their rooms, most likely preparing for the next day. 

Naturally if someone dared to come knocking at this hour, it had to be something serious. Students who have woken up despite elders asking them to stay in their dorms and teachers gathered on standby. Something like this would happen so rarely that missing it would be like a crime. The thrill of uncertainty. Maybe there was some sort of danger creeping behind that door. Something to be afraid of, or something to be dwelling on during lunches or classes for the next few days, maybe even weeks. Something foreign, unknown.

 Because never in the history of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters a young mutant whose sordid past was more than known to those residing at the mansion, had appeared at its door in the middle of the night with severe serious wounds, bloodied and dirty despite the pouring rain outside. Never, until it happened, that night.

 He was staggering and mumbling something that sounded like an apology, when deeply shocked Hank McCoy and Peter Maximoff called in to help, carried unconscious mutant to the infirmary, away from curious and concerned looks.

“Go back to your dorms. There’s nothing to look at.” The most respected voice echoed soothingly in the hallways as four men passed another set of open and half-open doors. “Everything is under control, you can go back to sleep.” 

Students moved out of their way at an instant, some willingly, some encouraged by the Professor and his powers of persuasion, to put it mildly. 

 The double door leading to the lab and infirmary closed with a thud.

“We should have just left him there! What the hell is he even doing here?! He was supposed to be dead!” Hank growled. There was no doubt that their guest was heavy. Even more so the wings attached to his back themselves. All that was shocking enough, and now they we’re forced to take care of the passed out mutant.

 Professor caught up with the men, but the hallways seemed to go on forever with the unconscious guy hanging off their backs. Maximoff was silent the entire way, only occasionally grunted from exhaustion. McCoy however was clearly distraught, agitated even. 

“He shouldn’t even be here!”

“Hank, please. I’m sure there’s a reason for him coming here right now.”

“And even more reasons to leave him at the gate.”

“Hank! For heaven’s sake, just let him explain everything once he’s more lucid.”

The mattress saged under the weight of winged mutant and both bearers moaned loudly stretching their limbs. The room was almost completely dark until Professor turned on the lamp on nightstand. Light shone down on the laying mutant and the look itself was a horror show. Though Xavier didn’t even flinch, Peter did.

“Is he even alive?”

Professor reached for the wrist of the mutant. His skin felt piercingly cold, but there was still a weak pulse.

“Barely. We need to warm him up.” He exclaimed looking at disheartened McCoy. The taller man sighed loudly. 

“Okay, but I don’t take responsibility for him and whatever he’s up to.”

“I do. Now go and bring medical kit.” Hank halfheartedly nodded. Professor turned to Maximoff which immediately caught his attention. “We’ll also need some towels, blankets and clean clothes.”

“Supply closet?”

“Precisely.”

 It all felt so natural, so casual. As if time did not exist and his whole existence has been this way forever. Freedom. All of sudden he was back in the air, flying as high as ever. He could practically feel mist of rain on his face as he was nearing the clouds. His wings were so lightweight now, like he wasn’t even flying, just floating. He really missed the feel of wind combing through his feathers, messing up hair, pushing at his chest. 

 But when did this all become so real? He couldn’t even recall the last few minutes, so where precisely did time go?

“Angel?” Eyes shot open and in a matter of seconds he was back on the ground. Trapped as he’d probably say, but the pounding in his head wouldn’t allow him to put the pieces together just yet. There had to be someone else to do it. “That’s how they call you right? You’re okay, don’t freak out! We’re here to help you.”

Muffled, yet in a way irritatingly buzzing voice was coming from his right side. The world was as blurry as reminiscence of past hours, or maybe days, he couldn’t really tell. 

“Fuck. Where am I?”

“Umm, Xavier’s? School for Gifted Youngsters. Or X-Men headquarters. Whichever you prefer.” 

As Warren was slowly regaining his vision, the source of the voice vanished only to come back later with a glass of splooshing water.

“Here.” Warren sat up and reached for the glass hesitantly. The guy looked familiar, there was definitely something about his hair and witty attitude that one could not miss. Too characteristic to overlook. “Professor will be here soon. He’s been waiting for you to wake up for days. We all did actually.”

Days. He’s been unconscious for days. And he couldn’t even remember how did he get there in the first place. 

The noise of double door being rapidly pushed open made both their heads turn. Angel suddenly froze. Memories he thought he’d gotten rid of smashed him in the face, like a bucket of icy water. Three pairs of eyes landed on him immediately, one kinder than the other. But only one pair would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

White as a chalkboard he finally realized his primary mistake. One he’ll have to deal with sooner than he’s ever expected. The past caught up with the present, and now it was heading right towards him.

A streak of light.

 What brought him here that night? He couldn’t even recall after all those years. Maybe it was destiny, maybe blind luck. But all these years ago when he landed with a loud thud on Xavier’s polished marble floors, all wet and unconscious, it was probably the best night of his life so far. The most important one for sure.

Cause everything has changed since then. Yes, he had to face the inevitable and clash his past with hope, the future he thought he couldn’t afford. But Xavier has led him the way, he’s showed him the thin line of light and gave him a chance. And for the first time in his life Warren was determined to own it.

Before he fully came back to his old self and the mutant community, he had to go through painful process of retrieving his old wings. After Apocalypse was defeated by X-Men, and therefore Angel was no longer under the effect of his power, his wings began to return to their original form. Much to Warren’s contentment, once he’d realized where cooperation with the superior mutant led him to. The process however was slow and incredibly painful. He was a mess in every sense of the word, and with Xavier’s guidance and McCoy’s wearing patience he was finally able to heal.

Before that though, he kept hiding for some time, sleeping in abandoned barns and houses in the outskirts, occasionally stealing some money or food from unsuspecting such neighbor people, or kids who went too far from their regular after-school routes. But no safe house was safe forever. Sooner or later he had to change the surroundings and look for more secure hideout, while continuously getting through the renewed process of fledgling. He was almost like that young boy many years ago. Lost, embarrassed, forsaken, left out in his pain.

Once he came to the mansion he couldn’t even remember why would he do that in the first place. But with time, and help his memory started to finally put the pieces together.

It was the other one of Apocalypse’s ex-horseman Ororo, along with that blue mutant he remembered from cage fight back in Germany, and then, from the battlefield, who’ve found him and persuaded him to give Xavier a chance to put him back together.

“Look at where you are now. How long will it last? Months? Years?” Warren was sitting on a hideous couch he’d found on the street during one of his nightly escapades. The room was dingy, dank, just as the rest of the building, which most likely served as a factory back in the day. There were empty boxes and cans busted all over the place. It didn’t feel like home. More like a detention.

Warren wasn’t necessarily fond of encountering Nightcrawler again. His shoulders and wings were tense as he glared grudgingly at the other mutant, too focused on the bitter taste of revenge creeping behind his back to even listen.

“Warren?” Storm stepped forward, regaining his attention. “Give yourself a chance. He can help you.”

“Nobody can.”

“So help yourself. Do it now before it’s too late. Please.” 

He didn’t go with them that day. Nor did he change his mind the next day. It took him few more weeks, few more dangerous circumstances to amend his attitude towards the possible prospect. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was getting tired of running away. Maybe it were his sore wings that affected his decision. But all in all he’s packed up his petty possessions and left, leaving his past behind in a way. The night he arrived at Xavier’s doorstep, he was so weak they had to carry him to the infirmary. He stayed in some sort of coma for few days. He’s never slept better in his life.

Once he’s gotten acclimated in the mansion and around other mutants, he’d have these long conversations with Professor - about life, his future, what he wanted to do now that his old life was no longer present. Warren wasn’t used to talking. Not much, not at all. Especially not about touchy subjects.

It’s all been moving forward really slowly. He’s never really felt supported by anyone, neither his parents, nor other mutants he’d met on his way of becoming who he was. He had troubles controlling his feelings. The thought of letting go and finally moving forward was utterly terrifying, cause it meant that he had to lose the meticulously crafted mask he’s been keeping on for years. It also meant that he could finally follow his dreams, and maybe that scared him even more.

  For half a year, the trauma of what happened kept coming back to him during his sleep, denying him any sort of rest. He stopped counting all the times he’s woken up in the middle of the night, breathless and covered in cold sweat. And since he could rarely sleep after his night panic attacks, he’d often end up sneaking out the mansion to fly around, sit on the roof and watch the moon till the sun began to rise. There were times when he wished he could buy himself enough alcohol to drown in it, but that was out of the question. After drinking he wouldn’t sleep at all, anxiety hitting the deepest spots within his heart. So he tried to avoid it. Ultimately, he decided to stick to the cigarettes, only occasionally reaching for a bottle in moments of withdrawal. Even if that meant side eye from teachers every now and then.

Like infection attacks immune system, Warren was forced to battle his  demons. His head was often full of doubts, even to the point of planning a way to get out of his new whereabouts and starting life from nothing. Just like he did back home in Long Island.

Xavier on the other hand, out of everyone, saw the wit and potential buried underneath the rough mask Warren chose to wear to protect himself from people. And slowly Warren opened up just enough to absorb and explore the paths of his life he thought he’d burn the bridges to. 

He refused to make friends because never really felt like he deserved them, especially among mutants aware of his history. Never feeling like he could be considered interesting, he chose to stay away from the group, only occasionally exchanging few words with Ororo, or the nosy and unfortunately ubiquitous Peter Maximoff. He was the first face Warren’s seen after regaining his consciousness after all. Others either didn’t trust him enough to share their time with him, or felt too intimidated to do so. 

Cause it wasn’t very hard to be intimidated by rather handsome, bright-eyed blonde, with wings so big he could be considered an actual angel. He wore them high and with pride, ever since he got them back. The metal ones were too heavy for him to carry. Both physically and mentally. So he was feeling like a brand new person when the last piece of metal fell of his shoulders. It has given him new, indescribable power that he had yet to figure out what to do with.

Encouraged by the professor, he decided to continue his abruptly terminated education. Due to his unsettled background, he was inclined to join younger group, the one he could keep up with, without feeling ashamed by his gaps in basic knowledge. Unsurprisingly for Xavier, he was making a lot of progress, gradually regaining his interest in school topics and also his confidence in that matter.

It was his confidence that led him into thinking that science classes, were going to be suitable for him, since he enjoyed maths as a kid. Unbeknownst to him, Xavier’s right-hand’s lessons weren’t as carefree and painless as he thought. Once on the list, he kept coming to the Friday afternoon class, as if to prove himself that he did not commit a fatal misleading. Situated in a far-back row, he used it as a opportunity to get a closer look at the people he was attending the classes with, occasionally sketching them or other random things that caught his eye. Like McCoy’s gesticulating. Perfect for practicing figures in motion.

“Warren? Hello?” Hank called out from above Warren’s clearly occupied head. The curls on his head bouncing lightly to the rhythm of song in his earpods, the black wire thoughtfully hidden underneath his  hoodie. Hank narrowed his brows. Of course he wasn’t even making notes.

“Worthington.” as if called names, Warren raised his head frowning to meet McCoy’s displeased expression and crossed arms. He never liked his name. Simply hearing it in a slightly different, more demanding tone ignited the fire in his veins. Memories of home coming up at him like daggers in reappearing in his wounds. “You’re not paying attention. Again.”

“Fuck.” Warren muttered quietly and pulled out the headphones. It was 5th time he was caught on not participating in the class. Embarrassed, he quickly gazed around the room to note that all eyes on were on him, some of them hostile, some just curious. After all he’s never really been active in the students’ group, both during and outside lectures. And he knew that watching someone else get punished was always entertaining.

And then, he caught a glimpse of what he have imagined smart eyes looked like. If he hadn’t been lost for words already, he totally was at that moment. Of course he knew them, he’d seen them many times before. But never on himself. A pair of the most beautiful eyes, framed by sleekly lifted lashes with kindness and attention beaming from underneath.

“Are you even here? Hello?” McCoy was utterly fed up at that point and Warren was snapped out of his thoughts for good.

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry. I just- I don’t even know. I should probably leave.”

“Yeah probably. And I should probably thank you for attending my classes. I bet it was a... tedious experience.” McCoy exclaimed walking backwards to his spot next to the desk. Warren let out an audible sigh and stood up to pick up his belongings. As he shoved his notebook and physics books (which were masquerading as his engagement in the topic), once again he lifted his gaze. But now the lesson was back on its previous track, and nobody dared to look in his direction. Pathetic, he thought of himself.

Throwing gym-like drawstring bag over his shoulder, he slowly headed to the door. He kept his head low, not willing to draw any more attention. The damage was done, and all he could do was make himself as unnoticeable as possible. Good thing the class wasn’t mandatory, but he could already see Xavier’s disappointed look. The doorknob squeaked and Warren bit his lip before nodding a short goodbye in McCoy’s direction. Going backwards, hand resting on the handle to pull the door to a close, he looked up from the floor. McCoy only shook his head with a huff and continued the monologue. Short glance over the people in the class, but nobody dared to give him the slightest bit of attention. Except you. The piercingly smart eyes. 

The air got stuck in his throat again, only now he came back to his senses much sooner. That is, after you smiled sincerely at him while putting a strand of hair behind your ear. Such a gentle yet casual gesture. He felt his neck turn redbrick shade of red almost immediately, and he swore he heard a loud bob of his own adam’s apple. The door slammed closed and for the 3rd time in less than 5 minutes, doctor McCoy couldn’t help the frustrated roll of his eyes.

That day Angel decided, that maybe this tiny moment was worth the agony of quantum physics.

 Weeks, months were slowly passing by in the safety of Xavier’s mansion. Not that Warren complained though, he’s missed not having to run, the silence. But it took him some time until he’s finally found a place for himself in this newfound home.

At some point Warren started spending more time in the library than in group classes, reading, going through old materials - some of them very far from topics students were meant to pass. At first, he kept coming back to avoid all the curious looks he’d get in the hallways or at the park. Only freaks spend their afternoons between the book shelves right? But in fact he preferred the peace and quiet the library always provided, and in fact, he always felt like the lectures were lacking in knowledge he desperately sought for.

That way, after he has finally loosened enough to befriend something else than books, he’s found his kind of company, consisting of school’s mightiest outcasts and truants, like Peter Maximoff himself. From brief, and rather superficial talks they shared, Warren found out that he only resided in the mansion every once in a while “killing time” as he’d joke. In a way, despite quick mutants’ naturally abrasive behaviour, Warren started to relax in his presence. Occasionally cracking a sharp joke or two, he even laughed, thus gaining more hospitable looks from others. In fact, having Maximoff and soon also Alex Summers under his wings, has provided him with a growing circle of charmed students. His tough boy facade was becoming more inviting with each passing day.

It was just another weekend, finally some time off both for the professors and the students. You were at the dining room, chatting with Ororo, laughing at some joke she just made. 

 On a day like that one everyone was likely to be spending time with less efficiency, mostly clogging time with casual talking or doing stuff you normally wouldn’t have the time to do on a schoolday. And so you were, head finally out of the books, eating lunch in the common kitchen before meeting with other girls in the park by the mansion. Ororo became your best companion so naturally, you didn’t even question her presence by your side during the day. You liked her wit and how different she was from you. How her extroverted attitude would penetrate your rather reserved shell.

You almost snorted through your nose and Warren, who’s just appeared in the doorway, couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his cheeks. Your smile was so soft and friendly. And your voice? Oh shit, he could envelope himself in it, and he would stop complaining about anything for the rest of his life. 

You scrunched your nose at the friend in front of you and shoved another spoonful of your food up your mouth, completely unaware of his dreamy eyes following your every move.

„Warren what the hell?! How much longer are we supposed to wait?”

“Huh?”

“Water, idiot. You said you’re gonna bring us something to drink. Jesus!” Peter rolled his eyes helplessly and sprinted up to the fridge to get a chilled bottle of soda. 

It was clear for a while that something was bugging Warren. There were times where he didn’t feel physically present, and boys would have to snap him out of that state by throwing pieces of paper at him during lectures, or punch him in the ribs on training classes. Somehow the most perceptive among his friends, yet it took Peter a minute, and 3 cans of rapidly drunken grape soda, to realize why Warren disappeared for much longer than he had is intended to. And why the hell was he blushing?

“No fucking way.” He half whispered, half yelled making Ororo and few other students turn in their direction for a second. That threw Warren back to reality. Peter wiped his lips with the back of his hand and placed another empty can on clear, shiny counter. Warren glared at him.

“If you wanted it fast, then you should have ran up here by yourself dickhead. I’m not some speedy-goddamn-gonzalez okay?”

“You’re so red! It’s adorable!” Warren all of sudden felt the warmth radiating off his cheeks, which only made him blush more, now that Peter have exposed him aloud. His eyes were slanting, trying to figure out if you’ve heard them or not. He noticed that Ororo was back at whatever topic you were previously discussing, and he sighed in relief. But his mind went blank again when his shifty eyes locked with yours, making him unable to move. He caught a tiny smile forming in the corners of your lips and Peter swore the boy could melt any second.

“Alright, Alex is still waiting out there. We gotta get going. Bye Ororo, bye _____!” Peter exclaimed waving to the girls, before pushing Warren out the room, and a building within 2 seconds, flipping few things with Warren’s wings in the process. But winged mutant was too enchanted to notice that.

Warren was still dizzy, his pupils blown wide and gaze absent. 

“Hey, what’s with him again? And where is my drink?” Alex came up to them, all sweaty from the extra training he decided to do, brows forming in a frown. Peter was laughing breathlessly.

“Dude, if you’ve only seen that!”

Alex’s fingers in front of Warren’s face snapped him back to reality.

„What?”

„Where were you even? Because sure as hell not here.”

Peter snorted again, earning a look from now tensed Warren.

“Okay okay! Don’t look at me like that, jeez. He got... lost.” Maximoff explained, hands raising in surrender. Warren was back to being his grumpy, neurotic self and Peter wouldn’t want to risk him blowing up. “... in _____’s eyes.”

Warren was already lashing out, fists clenched but the silver-headed boy was obviously faster, leaving Warren yet again on the losing end.

“Goddammit.” He swore under his breath, lips soon pressed together, fully aware of the fact that he could no longer hear him.

 Within next months, and despite his strenuous efforts to deny it, Warren fell head over heels. Your looks and intellect turned out to be barely cherries on top of your other traits. He couldn’t even count all the situations where he’d seen you helping out some other student with their homework or organizing science projects. He’s grown attached to seeing you in the library, surrounded by books he wouldn’t even dare to understand. He could stare at you for hours, while you’d just flip dozens of pages frowning, way too engrossed in the reading to notice his broad frame curled on the sofa. By the time of few months he’s spent there, he could list all the birthmarks and freckles on your face. He’s learned the way daylight adorned your face as you rapidly turn pages of different encyclopaedic papers. Or how you’d bit your lip while reading in a booth in the opposite corner. And how strands of hair would overshadow your vision just for a moment, before you’d gently tuck them behind your ear.

It’s been like this a while - just occasional small talks, him asking to borrow your philosophy books, even though you knew he’d never really read them. You rarely had classes together, but when you did, he couldn’t focus on the subject too much. He was far more committed to perfecting the sketch of your profile while you talked out some upcoming projects with other student in the front row. Old habits of sitting in the far back, dying hard.

 From time to time, he’d gain enough confidence to sit in with you at the library. He felt more comfortable without any witnesses around, nobody to gossip. He’d have never forgiven himself if he ruined your reputation with his bare presence.

”Umm, hey _____.” you looked up from your history papers, a pen dangling dangerously from between your lips. You raised both eyebrows not really expecting anyone wanting something from you, especially after classes when everyone was anything but interested in scientific-related topics. 

Nevertheless you recognised the guy instantly. His frizzy hair and feathers were illuminated by warmth of late evening sunlight coming through the window, enlightening his face like a halo. The angel boy.

”Hey.” you spoke up, sweet smile lighting up your face enough to make Warren’s head spin. And it almost did.

“I, well, uh. Sorry, you probably don’t remember me. We’re having literature, English and philosophy together and-“

”I remember. Who wouldn’t remember you.” another gentle smile and Warren’s heart sped up. You remembered. But why, did he do something stupid now? Fuck. Of course. It was the wings again. “You’re always sitting in the back, alone. Haven’t seen you talking to anyone much.” He stayed still as if shot in the back, pretty sure that Maximoff would probably do that if ever given a chance. Especially now. Right in front of you. Like a goddamn cupid or some other romanticised bullshit. 

“Erm, well...” he rubbed the column of his neck. “I don’t like to draw attention.” 

“I can imagine that.” Your gaze wandered gently over the bones of his wings. You could only imagine the pain he went through to get the feathers back. “Your wings look great though. Make you look reliable."

”I’ve never met a person who’d say that I look reliable.”

”Maybe you just did.” You bit your lip, blushing at your very own and unexpected wave of confidence. As you looked down he bit his lip grinning like a madman. So it wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t that bad. A fully loaded train of thoughts was going around his head. She’s smiling right? That’s good, maybe. No, no, don’t rush anything, yeah. Let’s keep it cool. Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, DON’T FUCK IT UP.

”Anyway.” he let out a small huff. His neck was getting more and more red, along with the temperature under his velvety woollen sweater. What now? “I just wanted to say hi, cause I see you around here quite often. See you around then yeah?” He was already backing away.

”Sure. And you can always sit by you know? I don’t bite.” He let out a nervous chuckle but straightened his posture nevertheless. What could go wrong now.

”But I might.” His eyes were hazy as he held a book in one hand walking backwards to the door, nearly tripping over corner of a carpet. You snorted unable to stifle a laugh. Both at his words and sight. He was completely red by then, only waving a quick goodbye and shutting the door closed behind him, something you’ve learned was a habit of his whenever he was being extremely flustered. And he was only ever so flustered around you.

 One could say, for a fact, that Warren looked extremely intimidating. With that nonchalant look, a bit buff posture and frown written all over his face for most of the time. And you felt intimidated too. By his a tad careless persona, by the way he walked - with such confidence that you could only wish you could achieve it one day. He was embodiment of that gloomy kind of charm, the one that attracts people in a heartbeat. Golden heart hidden behind uptight facade that is yet to be discovered. But you couldn’t simply overlook that his entire attitude has changed. It softened, as if someone polished his rough edges.

That certain someone, though you weren’t really aware of it, was you. He’d never admit that, not at loud, not around you. Hell, he wouldn’t even dare to ask you out. He was tongue-tied, utterly terrified that you’d surely reject him.

“She’s out of my league man, so bloody cool and intelligent. There’s no way she’d let me even hold her books on the way out of the class.”

“I agree about the out-of-league thing. You WISH you were half as cool and intelligent.” Teased Peter, earning a punch in the rib cage. The boys were sat on the bench in the park surrounding the mansion. Alex was chewing on his lip, Warren had his arms crossed over the chest and Peter was just classic Peter, sprawled wide across the seat and occupying half of the bench. This time however they were accompanied by Alexs’ younger brother Scott who - thanks to Peter, wasn’t allowed to sit, instead forced to crouch down on the concrete of the alley. 

Once the boys had realized what was the reason behind Warren’s sudden change of attitude, he was forced to reveal the truth. He wouldn’t be able to deal with it on his own after all. But Alex was slowly getting tired of hearing Warren’s constant whining.

“She suggested that she could use your company at the library right? You just overanalyze it too much.”

“I disagree!”

“Peter, please. We’re trying to get him out of his feathery shell, okay? I know you like to hassle him, but I swear it’s becoming pretty annoying.”

 Peter groaned and laid down again. Warren had a worried expression on his face. It didn’t even bother him when his silver-haired friend was being nasty to him. It was a thing you’d either had to get used to, or ignore, but at the moment he just stopped noticing. He wanted to make you notice him. His best self, how he wanted to be for you. During past months he talked to you like, 5 times maybe. Partially because he couldn’t say much, your proximity depriving him of words that’d even make any sense. He got interested in many subjects he never found entertaining, just because you were attending them. 

He’d sit in the second to last row, and observe how you’d answer to all the questions or discuss debated topic. He signed up for literature and classic theatre classes, but never actively participated. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to, he was just sure that he’d embarrass himself. And what a failure would that be to be ridiculed in front of you. A disaster. That’s how he was feeling about himself.

“You need to talk to the chick more. If you’ll keep your mouth shut it’s not gonna end up anywhere near your bed, I’m telling you.”

“Not everything revolves around shagging Summers! She’s... she’s. Ugh. She’s special mate.”

Warren leaned forward, resting his cheek on one of his balled hands. 

“Get your wings off my view, will you?”

“Uh, sorry.” He said, already getting up, suddenly very aware of how his mutation was forbidding him from feeling fully comfortable at all times. Another one of his issues with getting to know you. What if you hated his wings just as much as he did. He wouldn’t be able to handle that.

“It’s fine, don’t be so touchy man. I didn’t tell you to piss off.”

“‘M sorry.”

“Aaand he’s apologizing again! Seriously, what the fuck man. Did someone replace you?” Peter exclaimed loudly sitting up, amazed expression on his face.

“Warren you really need to chill. Get that stick you’re keeping inside out, cause she’ll never, EVER talk to you.”

“Where did you loose your confidence even?”

Warren’s wings were hanging low off his shoulders which were also almost dangling now, making him look so much smaller, so powerless. He sighed. 

“Is he always like this?” Scott finally spoke up pointing at Angel who was now standing next to him.

“No. Someone definitely replaced him. Her name is _____.”

“Oh shut up Maximoff! I’m over your damn bantering.” Warren suddenly tensed, ready to throw hands with his friend. “I’m out. Speak ill of her as much as you please while I’m gone, but I swear I’ll kick your bloody arse if I ever hear anything about her in my presence.” He exclaimed in a raised tone before backing out the spot.

“Come on! We’re trying to help you out!” But he flied up and out of their sight, just to save some time and his own patience. 

 Being himself without the constant feeling of not being enough creeping behind his back was incredibly hard, probably even harder than getting rid of his metal wings.

The feeling of abandonment was continuously present throughout his life, and maybe that’s why it was so tough for him to let go. Warren wasn’t and could never be as light hearted as Peter. He could act confidence in front of other students, hell, even in front of teachers. But you were always making him feel so vulnerable that it almost made him sick. Nobody would like a sappy, doe-eyed Worthington...

”Warren?” Upon hearing your voice he froze in his tracks. How long has he been up here on the roof? Minutes? An hour? And who told you he’d be here? “Are you okay?”

”Uhm, yeah, yeah!” He turned around still facing his sneakers. He didn’t dare to look up at you, as if ashamed of something he hasn’t even done yet. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I was just... contemplating.” 

“Well that’s nice.” You said shrugging. The roof was the most perfect spot for contemplating away from others. Sure, it was fun to hang around with other students, friends but everyone needs some time off. And despite all the visible changes in his behavior, you knew Warren well enough to realize that he needed his alone time more than others. „Can I sit next to you?”

„S-sure!” He blurted out suddenly very aware of your presence. 

You stepped close to the edge and slowly crouched down bringing your knees close to your chest. Warren was sat with his knees dangling off the edge. He tried to seem as casual as ever, but there was something off in his attitude.

He was feeling so stupid with all this. How much he wanted you to notice him trying, how much he was afraid of you possibly rejecting him. How fucking much he cared about you, about your opinion. How you were the only person for whom he wanted to change. 

You were the dream person in his life he never thought he deserved, yet there you were, one next to the other, awkwardly waiting for someone to finally speak up. You cleared your throat.

„If there’s any-”

„I wa- Fuck, _____ I’m sorry, I interrupted you.”

„No, no it’s fine! It’s my fault!”

„No, I just-”

„Warren, it’s fine. Please continue, I’d love to hear it.”

No you wouldn’t, he thought to himself. 

„Well, I-” He started turning his face back to you. And all of a sudden he was a goner. None of that mattered because you were actually there. You, just you. You and your curious eyes, your offering smile. „I- damn it. I completely forgot what was on my mind, you know?”

No he didn’t. You were on his mind. As always.

„Seriously? Worthington we need to work on your short-term memory.” You teased chuckling.

You gazed at the park below. From up there it was far more alluring than back on the ground, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’s something similar to what Warren was experiencing while flying. Everything was the same, yet in a way different, minor even. Maybe that’s why he fancied sitting on the roof so much. All problems seemed small and distant.

You glanced back at him but he’s turned away from you. He’s been distant lately. It’s not like you were best friends or anything, but you really enjoyed his company and something was definitely off. You decided to break the silence.

„Well, either way looks like I’ll need to say my thing first then.” You exclaim as casually as possible and sigh. „I know you’re not into working in groups that much, but… um, there’s this international contest and I just thought, you know, that we could apply together-"

„W-why would yo- me?”

„Yeah why not.” You chuckled and his face softened slowly. „You’re- you’re my friend, and I think we could only benefit from this. Of course if you don’t want to it’s totally fine!”

„No no! It sounds… cool!”

„It really does!” He gazed up at you and that glint in your eyes… As if your eyes sparkled with the most rare shade of joy mixed with excitement and, and- adoration? No, you were just keen on joining the project…right?

Warren scratched his neck nervously.

„Well, I guess you’ll have to get me acquainted with everything.” You just nodded and he decided to play along. „Cause you know, I’m kinda dumb. Bird brain and everything.”

Your body trembled with soft laugh.

„You’re not, silly. Birds are smart too. You’d know if you listened in biology class last month.” Hurriedly you moved to stand up, Warren’s eyes followed your every move. "Wait for me in the library after classes tomorrow? I'll explain everything to you, and maybe we'll start planning already?"

"Sure!"

You smiled again.

"Great."

In a way he was expecting you to laugh at him some more but your next words caught him off guard.

„You’re much smarter than you think Warren. Don't sell yourself short and you’ll get further than most of us here. For real.” 

You finished the last sentence with the gentlest smile and winked before walking back to the ladder. Warren was in complete awe.

It took him a couple more seconds to pick the pieces together and then you were gone, behind the wall, possibly stepping down the hallway by then, but finally he’s realized that maybe, just maybe, you were right. And the fact itself of you believing in him? At that moment felt as if it was enough to keep him up in the sky for the rest of his life. 

 Angel gazed down at the park again. But he was smiling, brighter than ever before. Like the sunset that enfolds the day. Like the lamp lit in the corner of a dark room. 

Like a promise. Of better days to come.

Sooner than he would have ever imagined...

„Stop it you idiot! You’re gonna make me fall!” You shrieked  holding onto Warren’s arms.

„Never princess.” 

His hold on you tightened and you lifted off. You couldn’t even look down you were so petrified. Both of the possibility of falling and the height. But being in Warren’s embrace felt nice, comforting. As if nothing could go wrong.

„You alright out there?” Warren asked nudging your side gently and you slowly looked up. His eyes seemed to match the shade of sky, so bright and clear, with rays of sunshine streaking across the blue. For a second you thought you’ve seen your own reflection in them, like in the tile of the mirror. His excitement was mirroring your own.

Suddenly he slowed down to a stop in midair with his wings spread wide and flapping to maintain altitude.

You were staring. And blushing.

„Y-yeah, I’m scared of looking down though.”

„Then don’t. Look at me.” He smiled slightly as his cheeks turned pink. His arms wrapped around you a bit tighter. „You’re safe with me.”

„I know.” You beamed. Though the small jump of his Adam’s apple didn’t go unnoticed to you. 

„Shall we come down?”

„Yeah, I’d really like that actually. I think I prefer watching you from the ground.”

„Oh, so that’s how we’re talking now? Maybe dine me first.” Warren smirked and you were quick to look away. „I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Always so down to Earth huh?” He grinned and you scoffed a little offended.

„It’s only fair if you’ve got head in the clouds. I’m bringing balance to this duo.” 

 Over the past couple weeks you’ve gotten so close to each other that one could simply assume there’s something actually going on between you. Because in a way it was.

Ever since the rooftop conversation you became inseparable. It was still nice to hang out with other friends, but if Warren was to choose between your bantering in the park and attempting to play ping pong with Peter, it had to be you. Warren could listen you talk about poetry and explain whatever Xavier meant by colonial expansion for hours. It was easy to forget about all the other things with you. Of course the project itself was a good chance to get to know each other more. And so you’ve found out about Warren’s hidden talent for drawing, his favourite bands, and his passion for classicism, especially sculpture.

„Really? I mean, it makes sense but-”

„What do you mean <<makes sense>>?” Warren frowned and laughed dryly, as if someone just saw right through him. 

It was another evening in the park. The idea was to study in an open air but obviously you failed and again ended up talking life, both of you stretched out on a blanket and your paperwork.

You only exhaled loudly.

„Uh, you know. You kind of look like one of those yourself.”

„The sculptures?”

„Don’t make me say it.” Warren shot you a glance.

„Come on, please! Tell me I look like a greek sculpture.” Warren teased and continued his exaggerated flexing. Of course he looked as if gods themselves carved him out of marble, but you were just going to feed his sweet vanity. „We both know the truth, just say it. Tell me I’m the Apollo to your Athena!” You could've sworn you almost bugged your eyes out.

„You crave validation so hard Worthington? Also, who told you I’m the Athena type?!”

„You’re the smart one. The smartest in fact.”

„Don’t pander to me now. It’s flattering but…” You responded lowering your voice. „… I always felt like that forest one.”

„Artemis?”

„Is she the one with the arch? And animals? Alone in the woods? Then yeah, that one.” 

Warren exhaled and leaned back on the blanket. You could already feel the punch coming...

„Makes sense.”

„Wha-? Oh fuck you Warren! Playing my game against me now? Not fun.” But he only kept on laughing.

„It’s always fun if I’m doing it!” You groaned and punched him in the ribcage lightly. „You like it! I know you do! And now you won’t be able to stop thinking about it, and you won’t be able to fall asleep cause you’ll keep thinking what that winged weirdo meant, and then you’ll call me, wake up everyone in the mansion cause you’re so damn desperate to know.”

„I hate how well you know me.”

„Love you too.”

 It still felt so odd to hear it from him. For both of you. It all still felt so fresh, so new and… unexpected. Cause after all you’ve heard about him you never thought you’d end up genuinely liking the guy. And then you became his closest friend, and you liked that too.

Warren was sweet and fun to be around. Once he’s opened up about his struggles and worries, once he’s learnt to trust you it became easier for him to loosen up. He felt safe in your presence. And he actually started noticing that slight change in his behaviour. How he came to the realization remained a mystery. Maybe it was just another day with you in the library, your quiet laugh at his pathetic joke, how he no longer cared if someone was sending him unpleasant looks when you were with him, your cute little notes you were leaving him in the books he borrowed from you and his doodles you were getting with the books in return.

Both notes and doodles on loose pieces of paper of course, you taught him to respect textbooks with all the knowledge they carry. Another thing you've taught him over time. Still, he wouldn’t have admitted that he’s gotten soft to anyone. Well, maybe you. Only you. It came so naturally, like a breath of fresh air and he took it, and he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get enough of you in his life.

 So when you’ve finally wrapped up on your project he decided to do something to celebrate it, to thank you for everything. Out of all the students you were one of the only ones to make it before the deadline, and with all the time you’ve spent off-topic it was a huge success. Despite this you refused to organize a party, not yet, not before the results would come. And Warren didn’t complain, in fact he wanted to make it special.

“A book?! As if she hasn’t got enough of those already…”

“Come on Ororo, help a guy out! What kind of book might she need?”

Ororo let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall. They just left biology class during which Warren was so insistent on sitting with her that it was almost suspicious, until it wasn’t, cause his nagging mouth wouldn’t shut up about his idea to gift you with something.

“It’s not her birthday or anything, so what’s the rush?” Warren groaned in response, way too loud for his liking so he was quick to look around before he gave Ororo a proper response, this time quieter.

“I just wanna give her something okay?”

“Okay, okay! Chill! It’s gotta be a book?”

“I mean, she likes them, right. And I’m pretty sure she won’t mind having another one.” The reasoning was deeper than that though.

Warren wanted to give you a book, cause that was the thing that brought the two of you together. For all the books he’s borrowed, for all the books you’ve been reading together for your project, for the books you’ve recommended him and all the books you’ve given him and the ones he’s learnt to love thanks to you. 

Ororo frowned thinking.

“What about mythology?”

“What?”

“Mythology Warren. She likes mythology doesn’t she? I’m pretty damn sure she was looking for something about mythology last month but she dropped the idea because of the project. You know, setting your priorities kinda thing.”

Ah yes! You did talk about correlations between ancient cultures and art one of those days. How come he missed that part.

“You’re a genius ‘Ro!” Warren whisper-yelled already backing out the hallway. “Just don’t say a word!”

Ororo mumbled something in return but Warren was too excited to listen. He was about to get you the best present in the whole universe. Or at least in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

 How did Warren Kenneth Worthington persuade the librarian to order two copies of new edition of mythology encyclopedia instead of one was a mystery. But there he was, strolling down one of the alleyways in the park where you were supposed to meet before the party. The results came in today, but Professor insisted to present them during the celebration, just in case of someone failing. That way there’d be no winners, just everyone celebrating the journey. It was fair and in a way forced a prom-like occasion, only there was no actual dress code, just everyone dressing more elegantly and having fun. 

It was 4 minutes past 7pm and Warren was starting to get nervous. It was silly, but all of a sudden he was feeling like all this wasn’t about the party anymore. He just wanted to see you, maybe finally ask you out after both of you’ve had a punch. Or two… But you would never be late, something must have happened. Maybe you went straight to the dance hall, maybe-

“Hi there Angel.” Warren turned around and there you were, walking up his way wearing that radiant smile of yours. “Looking dashing I see.”

Considering all the possible outcomes of this evening Warren has decided to wear something more fancy than his usual attire and in exchange he went for a tailored set - black shirt and suit pants, the only one he owned. He got them long time ago but somehow they still fitted him. He blamed his mutation for it, but it felt nice to know that despite all the changes in his life, both the exterior and inferior ones, there was still that part of him that was left unchanged. And he enjoyed that stability. 

As for the outfit, he decided to keep the boots. Another constant he couldn’t let go of. Besides, he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, you’d probably think he was being a poser anyway. Better keep the loose facade, at least for the time being.

“Uh, you like it? Thought if we’re about to celebrate… something, I might as well dress up like it, y’know.” Your lips curled in a smile again.

“It’s nice. Very grown up mister Worthington.” Warren couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at your remark. But his whole face and neck was covered in a faint blush, the kind of blush that only accentuated his tiny freckles. You thought that it was cute, but Warren was glad you weren’t able to tell how fast his heartbeat has gotten.

Finally his attention shifted to you and fuck he was so doomed. It wasn’t like you haven’t dressed nicely before, in fact, you were one of very few people who managed to look great both in school uniform and casual attire. It’s just that your hair, your face, fuck, ALL of you... you just took his breath away.

“I- I mean, it’s nothing in comparison to you though.”

You exhaled with slight tension on the edge.

“It’s just clothes you know. And they’re not even mine.” You replied glancing down at your outfit. “I borrowed this from Jean, and those from Jubilee. Didn’t want for anyone to think I always dress up like a nerd.”

“I’m not anyone.”

You looked up at him and he was no longer blushing, the shade faded away into something more rich. It was like his lips have absorbed most of the color and you just couldn’t stop focusing your attention on them. Even his usually bright eyes have gotten darker, like his pupils have blown up making space for a perfect reflection of your face in them. Gloomy and tempting.

Warren suddenly cleared his throat and you backed away bolted upon realizing how close you two were standing.

“I, uh, I’ve got something for you. Just in case we didn’t win or something.” Oh, so that’s why he’s been keeping one hand behind his back the whole time. Wings were a perfect cover. What a lucky bastard.

“Warren, you didn’t need to you.”

“But I wanted to!”

“It’s not fair, I didn’t buy you anything.”

“But you did give me so much. Let me just thank you for it.” He said leaning forward just a bit before a neatly wrapped package appeared in front of your eyes. Warren continued. “Project aside, I really owe you so much and I don’t think I’d be able to do all these things without your help. Anyway, you know I’m not good at talking. Not when you can do it better, so please accept this as my gift. For the past, for what’s now.” And for the future, he thought, but it got stuck in his throat. That’d have sounded too sappy, over the top, pretendious.

“What about the future? I need an insurance in case of your antics blowing up again. Unless you don’t want to hang out anymore, now that we don’t have a scientific reason for it.”

“Oh fuck yes I want! I mean- Yeah! Of course.” Your laugh rang in his ears.

“I’m liking this enthusiasm.” You smirked as Warren handed you the package. It was quite heavy, but not stone kind of heavy. It had some lightness to it, yet imitated a brick-like form. Definitely not something you could expect.

Or could you?

“Is it a book?”

“Please say that you’re not Athena one more time and I’ll fucking explode.”

“It is a book!” You squealed excitedly and started rapidly unwrapping, careful not to tear the silver, shimmery paper. “And just because I guessed correctly I’m not Athena. If anything I’m Pythia.”

“Yeah yeah.” Smartass. Or Ororo is just another traitor. 

Warren sighed, but despite all the efforts to stay serious he just couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing you so joyous, so radiant and all blooming was making his heart grow. Yeah he could just love you, just like that, if only you’d let him.

“You didn’t! You fucking maniac!” 

Warren was suddenly pulled away from his thoughts by your loud groan. Fuck, not good.

“What the- For fucks sake! How much?!”

“H- How much what?”

“Money! Or, I don’t know, gold… fucking silverware! And most importantly - how did you manage to get the first edition of 'New Larousse encyclopedia of mythology'?!”

Warren sighed with relief.

“I, uh… it’s a secret?”

“Come on! It was released like a week ago!”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not tellin’. Do you like it at least?”

“Like it? Warren I fucking love it! I thought I’m never going to get one of my own, and now you just come up to me like it’s no big deal.”

And when you looked up at him he was wearing that dopey smile of his.

“Cause it really isn’t a big deal. I just thought that’d you’d like it and-“

You didn’t even let him finish as you jumped at him, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug. Warren has never actually felt his heart stop, but this single moment was pretty close to it. And he felt silly, he felt stupid. So fucking in love with you that he couldn't even express it, too afraid that he's ruin it. That you'll disappear, like another memory.

With shaky fingers he reached to caress your cheek and you looked up.

"There you are guys!" Out of thin air appeared Peter, his neatly styled hair only slightly ruined by the running. No hairspray could tame those waves of his. "Smooch later, Xavier's about to present the results."

Gently you pulled away, your cheeks were flush just a tiniest bit. Warren tried to keep his posture stiff, but your eyes kept meeting and you just couldn't stop smiling at that, which was making him smile too. 

"Uhm, I guess we'll talk later then." Warren murmured and Peter rolled his eyes. He might have muttered something before speeding off back to the mansion.

"Yeah we better hurry up." You teased nudging his arm with your shoulder.

The walk back inside was rather awkward, but you couldn't quite decide why. The interruption sounded like a reasonable explanation, but thinking about what did Peter actually interrupt was even harder to grasp. Regardless, just before both of you entered the building you grabbed Warren by the arm and he stopped in his tracks confused.

“About earlier...Thank you War. Really. For everything."

And just like that your soft lips planted the softest kiss on the corner of his lips. So close he had half a mind to turn his head ever so slightly and make it proper, yet it felt wrong, like he wasn't himself ready for it yet. As if this meant so much more than what he's ever wanted. Cause it was coming from you. Genuine, like a whisper, a promise.

You pulled away, eyes sparkly as ever. Warren cleared his throat and reached out to rub his neck, the way he always did, but then for the first time he didn't. With cheeks flush pink he straightened his posture and reached for the doorknob inviting you in.

„My lady..."

"Sir." You bowed a little to play along. And fuck what anyone would say, he could wear that blush on his face for the rest of his life if it meant having you by his side, gentle and playful.

Only who could've guessed the future...

 Upon entering the hall you notice that everyone has gathered near the podium, where Xavier was presenting the results. You and Warren looked at each other knowingly and approached the scene. You were visibly tense, both of you worked so hard and now that the prize was within your reach you were afraid of disappointment. Not even your own, gods no, you were afraid that Warren would be disappointed. That all this time was wasted, that he’d think that all this was just a waste of time. That he’s wasted his time for pointless project, for you.

“But before I ask the winners to join me on stage allow me to congratulate each and every participant. This incredible opportunity and your involvement means very much, especially for our community. And for us, your teachers, for me, you’re all winners. Give yourselves a round of applause.”

You gazed up at Warren and he was already smiling softly at you. Cause Xavier, for once, was absolutely right, and no matter the results it was worth it. 

And as if he knew that you were doubting yourself he gently took your hand in his. You heard him inhale shakily, but you couldn’t tell if the anxiety of waiting was the true reason. Maybe you didn’t want to know, maybe you just wanted him to hold your hand, just like that, with his fingers tracing encouraging traces on the back of your hand. It’s going to be fine.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Among the winning teams we have...”

You took a deep breath and felt Warren’s grip on your hand tighten ever so little.

“... Jean Grey and Jubilation Lee! Applause for the ladies!” You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face with each name. You knew how hard they worked so hearing your friends cheer after their well-deserved win was making you happy too. Somewhere in the crowd you spotted Scott and Warren exchanging knowing glances. 

“And now, the last but absolutely not least deserving team…” 

All the clapping and cheering were ringing in your ears. And you could hardly see the front with everyone blocking your vision with their hands and enthusiastic jumping. You were grateful for Warren’s wings protecting you from being squished from the sides. “ _____ and Warren! Come up on the stage!”

In a flash you were pulled back into the place. It seemed like milliseconds were stretched out to minutes. Warren’s googly eyes were at you shortly before his hold on your hand loosened. Though he didn’t even give you time to react because he was already pulling you into a hug while already twirling both of you, successfully dispersing the crowd.

Triumph. And yet, it felt so unexpected. 

“Hey, hey! Are you okay princess?” You didn’t realize you stopped blinking until your vision got blurry and suddenly Warrens’s concerned frown was mere inches from yours.

“Y-yeah? Did we?”

“Win?” You caught that glimpse of excitement in his eyes, the sparkle that made Warren... Warren. And you didn’t even need words anymore, but they came and suddenly everything had a totally different meaning. “Yes silly!  We won! We won baby!”

 Your brain would race, it would run off to many different places, distant thoughts, memories and old experiences you weren’t able to describe in detail, except for those tiny scraps of words and images. Like frames of a film. Life’s moving so fast.

 It’s only been a week since presenting of the results but the memory itself was still so vivid. But you could only see one face, the one in front of you, the one you were planning your travel with. 

“When are we leaving again?”

You couldn’t help the involuntary roll of your eyes.

“2 weeks Warren. We’re leaving in 2 weeks. Now, can we get back to plans? We need a schedule if we want to meet during the weekends.”

Exaggerated sigh.

“Couldn’t you just pick the same uni?”

“You’re not just asking me to choose Kensington over Brighton.”

“What if I am?”

You shot him a glare but despite your efforts to play it off you didn’t miss the glint of sincerity in his eyes.

It was quite a challenge to keep your relationship the way it was after that evening in the park. And Warren was doing everything in his power to crack it. Break the established boundaries. Not that anyone has actually set them and obviously he didn’t mean to rush anything, he respected you far too much to do so. 

“I didn’t even apply there, it would make no sense if I would do it now.”

He perked up.

“But you’re considering it!”

“Oh gods… you know what? I would, but just because of you. Kensington wasn’t even in my plans.” You said and glued your eyes back to the papers spread between your bodies on the bench. Luckily the day wasn’t too windy so you were able to use some of the afternoon sun and organize your leave in more pleasant conditions. “And… you’ll be my only friend out there…”

The inevitable. Leaving familiar community for the sake of brand new experience. For the sake of possible personal growth. It was hard enough for you, but for Warren? 

Since joining the mutant underground he’s been doing everything and nothing in particular, all at once. He didn’t belong back home, among his family members, but he didn’t belong on the streets or cage-fighting either. Until then it’s all been downs and illusory ups. And whether he initially had rejected the idea or not, he’s found his place. And he was about to leave it for a while, leave America. He was wondering if it was just his mind playing with him all over again, or was it really the end of an era. He was about to leave the past behind completely. And you wouldn't be there with him, not within his reach.

“You know, I could always fly up to you. Like, Kensington during the day-“

“It’s 2 hours away. By car.”

“But I would stay the night! And we could spend the weekends by the sea. Studying!”  Warren emphasized with a rise of index finger. You smiled involuntarily. Classic Worthington. But when did he become so positive.

“Where did the real Warren go? I’m pretty sure you’re a clone, only more upbeat.”

You gazed up at his face and he was smiling. Only sadder.

“Hopefully I’m not evil clone.” He spoke up searching for your hand. Gently he nudged it. “I’ve changed. I don’t want to be unhappy anymore. I kinda think I won’t be able to if I keep you around. You’re like… my lucky charm or something.”

Another smile. And you were blushing a tiniest bit.

“The credit goes entirely to you War.” You exclaimed but your eyes remained glued to the bench, afraid that if you looked into those eyes one more time you’d actually break. Swallowing hard you straightened your posture. “Either way we’ve chosen different spots, but hopefully we’ll manage to meet sometime.” You faked a smile and Warren just nodded. He knew you better than to blindly believe in your optimism but he ran out of words to say.

Things will work out. Or you’ll make them work out. Somehow, someday.

 Weeks run by so fast. Even faster than days. You were packed up, slightly dizzy after farewell bash that Peter has managed to organize together with your mutual friends, and almost ready to go.

Given the character of the universities both of you’ve chosen and the grim reality of life as a mutant, you were meant to fly a special airline. Warren would often jokingly brag about how he could literally fly there on his own if only Xavier wasn’t so insistent on paying for your flight. You were far more pragmatic. Your abilities didn’t include flying or such long-distance teleportation, and even if they did you wouldn’t take that risk. Of course Warren was only playing but deep down you had that tightening feeling that something was about to blow up. And it was getting tighter and tighter with each passing day…

“You up?” You heard a muffled voice preceded by a knock from behind your door. 

By then you were left with finishing off the cleaning up your dorm room. After all it was hard to tell when you’d be coming back. Or if you were coming back at all… Might as well leave it as 'tabula rasa' as possible.

Another knock and you rushed to the door. Warren was biting his bottom lip in an attempt to contain his excitement, but his pose was saying something different. The old combat boots on his impatient heels were visibly polished for the occasion. You smirked at his choice of jacket though. It was that jean one with faux fur inside that you'd suggested him to buy once. Probably not that questionable choice considering London and its weather, where you were supposed to be landing. And for once he wasn’t wearing black pants but instead hardly ripped, simple jeans.

You were looking him up and down and he noticed it. Warren liked to joke that you were actually checking him out when you looked at him like that. Who knows, maybe you did.

“Gotta make an impression.” He said loud enough to bring your attention back to his face. He spread his arms and wings as if to emphasize his words.

“Uhm, and what kind of impression you wanted to make here?” You voiced your concerns waving your hand around. Warren frowned.

“Uh… artistry? I tried okay! I do have some family there but it’s not like I know everything about European fashion inherently.”

You let out an audible snort. Sometimes you really thought that Warren could sense your fears and therefore would always show up with his inimitable humor and helplessly silly comments. Always there to cheer you up when you were sad. Like an actual angel.

“Anyway, I decided to check up on you, but looks like you’re ready to go.” Warren pointed at the set of luggage by the wall.

“Yyyeah.” You stated hesitantly gluing your eyes to the floor and he nudged your chin gently so you’d look up at him again.

“You sure? You know you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

“It’s just… I don’t know. A feeling.” 

And he didn’t dig it up. Like he knew it was pointless, like he knew you wouldn’t be able to explain. 

Like you were more than just friends. 

So he just hugged you, just like you did back then in the park. Swallowed the urge to tell you how he really felt. Cause eventually he’d be able to tell you, and you needed his support. Safe with his arms engulfing you. And for that brief moment in your life your worries have melted away, somewhere where they couldn’t reach you. 

  After drawn-out hug session with your friends and receiving much needed words of support from the Professor and other teachers you were good to go. Well, maybe not good, but fine. Xavier insisted on driving you to the airport along with McCoy. You could tell that it had something to do with your inner concerns, but Warren seemed oblivious to it. All the way to the airport you two barely talked, but at some point Warren sneaked his hand around yours and you reciprocated by intertwining your fingers with his. Memories of the first time you held hands clouded your mind creating a wave of peace. Because with him everything seemed so easy, you felt as if nothing could crush you, not if he’s been through it and came back. You’ve come to meet the hell he’s been through via his words, the nightmares he’s allowed you to see. It made you appreciate your life more. Your life and him, his strength and will to fight back his demons.

His presence in your life seemed like that missing puzzle, and he very much felt the same way. But what if one day the image falls apart?

 The closer to the airport you were getting, the worse you felt. You didn’t feel sick, no, it was merely physical. It just felt as if something within you, something invisible, was being torn apart. Softly you let go of Warren’s hand, afraid that he could sense something and ask questions. You had to be brave, it was just a trip, an internship, nothing permanent you kept repeating yourself, but it wasn’t just stress of the travel. Something was happening and you couldn’t control it. A distant sensation, yet so close to your own heart you could feel it tear open.

Once you got to the airport it became unbearable, so overwhelming you had to excuse yourself to the restroom. The tension was increasingly climbing up your back, tensing the muscles around your spine and neck. And the buzz ringing in your ears, like a stun that only kept on growing and blocking you from your surroundings. 

You couldn’t even see the people throwing looks in your direction, you couldn’t even see them, only omnipresent pain invisible to the naked eye.

“_____, breathe.” Echo inside your ringing head. A soothing, distant voice. “I know, I know. Just breathe.”

Sharp inhale. Short exhale.

“Again, control your feelings. Breathe.”

Another sharp inhale, this time deeper. And exhale.

“Just like this, regain control. It’s fine. It will be fine.”

In long, out long. The buzzing seemed to fade into white noise, and with each breath it moved further and further away. Calm down, it’s fine. It will be fine.

The voice was getting closer to you, so close you could recognize it. As well as your surroundings. Cold tiles of restroom at the airport, empty stalls, three pairs eyes staring at you in shock. If only they could tell how shocked you were.

Soon enough another two figures rushed to you. You recognized one of the voices as Professor Xavier. The distant voice.

“It’s okay, breathe. You’re safe.” You blinked regaining your vision.

“Wh-what happened?”

“That, you’ll have to figure out on your own.” 

“Where’s _____?”

When Xavier suddenly decided to leave them at the waiting area Warren was certain it had something to do with your disappearance. And they made him wait, like a fool, like he wasn’t dying inside unaware of what you must have gotten yourself into. 

And so he was pacing around, concern all over his face. No words of wisdom coming from Jean could stop him from worrying. You weren’t there, something must have happened.

“She-“

“She won’t be coming.” McCoy chimed in right behind Charles, but the elder mutant only nodded in agreement.

It was already settled, there was nothing else to add. Neither for you nor for him. He was left with a bunch of vague explanations and affirmations that everything is fine, that you’re just not ready, not yet. But the words just kept booming inside his head like an echo.

“Wha-? What do you mean she won’t be coming?” 

~~~~~

to be continued

#Warren Worthington #Warren Worthington III #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington the third #archangel #angel xmen #angel x reader #archangel x reader #xmen angel #xmen fic #x-men fanfiction #x-men fic #xmen fanfiction #xmen au #x-men au #x men apocalypse #x men au #full fic #fic update

[gleam-and-darken]

Zelda AU #2: The Triplets

The sketch is rough at best, but Zelda is supposed to look like she does pre-calamity, Tetra looks like the girl from the BotW 2 trailer (because it is her, I might explain that later if anyone’s interested), and Sheik has his design from Smash Ultimate. This is really just my take on the twins AU which was originally created by someone else (rockingthegraveyard, I believe).

https://triforce-princess.tumblr.com/post/627266504652668928/this-is-awesome-your-brain-is-so-good

Anyways, I was thinking of what this might actually look like as a fleshed-out story, and I decided that Zelda’s twin could be named Tetra. And then I thought, “hey, we can’t leave Sheik out!” And so here we are. Basically, thanks to her siblings, Zelda is able to stop the calamity and (almost) everyone lives happily ever after. I don’t actually plan on writing this into a formal story so this is a long post where I just dump a lot of my ideas concerning the trio. I will not be writing this into a story, because I’ve never played BotW and I fear I would get everything wrong, but you’re welcome to! If someone ends up writing something based on this, I’d love to know so I can read it. I also have lots more ideas about this, so if you want more content (aside from this ridiculously long post), just ask!

Zelda is technically the oldest, although it hardly matters since they’re triplets. Thanks to this, she is arbitrarily the one who had all of the responsibilities heaped upon her. She’s pretty similar to how she appears in BotW, except Link isn’t even a potential love interest for her. He’s just her knight whom she’s gradually grown close to - as a friend.

Tetra is the middle child, and by far the most troublesome. She is outgoing, adventurous, brash, and basically everything you don’t want in a princess. King Rhoam tried to raise her to be proper, constantly reminding her that it was the hero’s (Link’s) duty to be the courageous one, not the princess. This often resulted in her running away and threatening to join the gerudo. She and Revali got along like a house on fire, often bonding over how overrated Link is. She absolutely hates Link, because to her, he represents not her failures, but the failures of her country and family. Why can’t a princess with no triforce be the hero as well? She makes no attempt to hide her distaste for him, although she might have changed her perspective a little if she realized that Link actually greatly admired her. It’s too bad that he was too scared of her to tell her himself. Speaking of being too scared to admit things, the one thing Tetra can’t bring herself to say aloud is that she has a huge crush on Princess Mipha.

Sheik is the little brother, known as the quiet one. Unlike his eldest sister, he knows how to fight, but hates doing so. He would much rather prefer to be exploring the lonely areas of the wild, or researching ancient tech with Zelda. He’s trans, and while his sisters support him and his father respects that, King Rhoam also saw that as an excuse to ignore him. After all, the legends never told of princes doing anything noteworthy. Thus, the king, and by extension almost everyone in Hyrule, more or less forgot about their quiet prince. The champions knew about him and were varying degrees of nice to him, especially Lady Urbosa, which was more than almost everyone he met could say. He didn’t mind it too much, and didn’t even realize that it was wrong until after his father was dead.

Link had a varied relationship with the triplets. Originally, both Zelda and Tetra despised him, because he reminded them of everything wrong in Hyrule - Zelda’s own self doubt, and Tetra’s failed attempts to become her own hero. Since his two sisters were always talking about how much they hated having this royal knight follow Zelda around, Sheik grew to dislike him as well, despite having never met in person. However, there was a time in the castle when Tetra practically kidnapped Zelda and whisked her away to an unknown location in Hyrule, sending everything into chaos. Sheik was pretty sure that they were both in on it and were simply trying to prove how well they could manage without Link, but they hadn’t informed him of their plan before they left, so he really had no idea. What he did know was that they left Link behind, and now the royal knight was panicking because he thought the king would blame him for letting his daughters vanish, and feared he’d be at the very least jailed.

Link, to his surprise, was not punished - the king was too busy cursing his own tomboyish daughter - but was sent to go find them alongside a team of Hyrulean soldiers. Not wanting to look useless, Sheik joined the quest. In their travels, Sheik discovered that Link was actually a lot like himself, just in completely different circumstances (and much more reckless, unfortunately), and the knight found that the prince was one of the few people who didn’t meet him with impossibly high expectations, for which he was thankful. They became fast friends, although since they both said an average of ten words a week combined, their friendship often looked more like them being present in the same room.

Much later, after both princesses had returned to the castle (“of our own accord,” Tetra had reminded everyone within earshot), the king doubled down on Zelda discovering her powers. She and her knight were rarely seen around the castle, always visiting springs and whatnot, while Zelda’s siblings were left at the castle doing... basically nothing. They were both training constantly for a battle that they were beginning to believe would never come.

Their seventeenth birthday started like any other day. They were at the castle while Zelda and her knight were off at another spring to pray, along with the champions. Then all hell broke loose. (Literally.) Something monstrous decided to rear its ugly head from under Hyrule Castle, and it took over the guardians to boot. Of course, both Tetra and Sheik became extremely concerned for their older sister, since she probably couldn’t fight a bokoblin, much less corrupted ancient technology. This, combined with the fact that the castle was probably the worst place to be right then, prompted the two to bolt into the field and find their sister. They had to fight guardians the entire way, and Sheik recieved a nasty injury, but kept denying how bad it really was.

Despite the storm, she wasn’t that hard to find, thanks to that explosion of what they guessed was her divine magic that had finally decided to say hello. They found her as opposed to the sheikah, but arrived on the scene a bit to late for the hero. He wasn’t dead (or was he?), or at the very least he could be saved/brought back, but he was clearly not about to help them fight. (Still, Sheik absolutely lost his mind when he saw the state Link was in, to the shock of his sisters. Neither of them knew he was close friends with the knight.)

Zelda quickly explained her plan to her siblings, where she would return the sword to the forest and face Ganon herself, to which Tetra said “hell no.” The Master Sword was right there! Hyrule needs saving, and the princess found herself to be a perfectly competent hero. The sword could be fixed. Somehow.

This part is where I’m a little on the fence about what happens. The sword’s health and power does seem to be tied to Link’s, as evidence by how it heals with him over 100 years and can only shoot sword beams when he’s at full health (I think), but since Tetra actually was worthy of wielding the sword, Fi could have been restored when she accepted the blade. Alternatively, Tetra and Sheik could have been the sages of earth and wind without realizing it, and we’re able to restore the sword on the fly. You get to decide how the sword repaired itself.

So now Tetra has roped herself into fighting Ganon with the Master Sword, Zelda by her side, while Sheik is losing his mind over what is basically the corpse of his closest friend. It’s at this time that Zelda realizes just how injured her brother is. She knows that he can’t fight the calamity like that, so she tasks him with taking Link to the Shrine of Resurrection, like Fi said. Initially, he refuses, but he soon decides that it’s all he can do and agrees.

The triplets go their separate ways. Somehow, the sisters are able to get to the castle very quickly, and start to challenge the Calamity. Zelda uses her new sealing powers to force him into a mortal form, while Tetra beats him up with her new weapon of choice. Ganon originally shrugs them off, more or less, but as they start to win he activates Panic Mode and summons all of his blights back to the sanctum to fight the sisters. Luckily, the blights were snatched right out of their battles with the champions, who were beaten and shaken but still alive.

However, thanks to his new allies, Ganon starts to win. Just when the princesses think they’re about to die, the divine beasts - which are under the control of the champions after the blights left - strike, finishing off the Calamity. Naturally Ganon has a few tricks up his sleeve and transforms into Dark Beast Ganon, moving to Hyrule Field. By Hylia’s (late) divine grace, Tetra and Zelda are teleported to the field as well, alongside Sheik, surprisingly. He’d just set Link up in the shrine before getting pulled here. Zelda is able to summon the Bow of Light, which becomes his weapon.

Together, the three of them are able to take out the dark beast. Zelda creates weak points, while Tetra and Sheik shoot them with Master Sword beams and light arrows, respectively. (Maybe Tetra DID die, but her health was restored by a fairy, or she’s at full health for some other reason.) So now Ganon is dead. Castle town is in shambles, and multiple people are dead, including the king. But don’t worry - Urbosa quickly makes herself the new parental figure of the triplets.

Hyrule is rebuilt. The people celebrate the defeat of the calamity, and the guardians are restored to their former abilities. Tetra becomes the new Champion of Hyrule Castle, wielding the Master Sword and the Sheikah Slate. For an extra happy ending, maybe she and Mipha formally become a couple. Sheik pioneers work on improving ancient and modern technology, showing a special interest in ways to reverse aging. After many years, Queen Zelda’s son, Daphnes Link Hyrule, becomes the ruler after her reign ends.

And so, the people of Hyrule live happily ever after.

... and 100 years later, Link wakes up.

#legend of zelda #link #zelda #zelda au #the triplets #featuring low effort doodles #breath of the wild #botw #botw 2

[ask-them-bois]

Oh Heck yeah AU'S let's go pal, this is @abysmaltourmaline giving you 150 percent permission to make AU'S including my ocs. Yes, I'm opening this box

*points at you* Know that this is Pandora’s Conan’s box that you have opened, foolish mortal, and I am not to blame for what you find within. I WILL make aus for your ocs, do NOT tempt me. But fine, I will indulge the previous ask:

“Angrec - Describe a royalty au with your muse. What position would your muse be in? How would they feel about their station? all bois?”

(Instead of just straight up royalty, I’m gonna dive into my Fantasy AU, because it’s the one I have the most developed.)

Vornik- A fae king with powers unknown. He skulks through the densest, darkest forests, singing with the birds. Anyone foolish enough to follow his song comes to find a field of glowing flowers, where Vornik waits. He does not lie about who he is, and offers them things in return for objects of non-substance. A cat’s scale for riches, the fur of a bird for knowledge. A name for the adventure of a lifetime. A dead name for a lifetime of adventure. To those who can give him what he wants, he is benevolent, dancing with them as the sun sets. To those that cannot, they dance for much, much longer.

Makeno- A siren prince that lures handsome sailors into the rocks. He “saves” them from this cruel fate and pleads for them to stay with him, lamenting his loneliness. Some say they will, and he drags them to the bottom of the sea. They never again see the surface, but are pampered, safe, and happy in a palace made of coral. As for those who don’t stay, well, Makeno doesn’t have the heart to wound a pretty face, but that doesn’t mean he will help the now stranded men.

Corden- A war-forged automaton, with a skin of steel and heart of gears. A brain of ruby and amber gave him the ability to think and feel, before his masters cast him aside. Now he patrols the ruins of his birthplace, his heart ticking time away as he waits for someone to find him, to use him as he was meant to be used.

Musrio- A powerful necromancer of infamy. His palace of bones and mushrooms is hidden in the darkest of places, only found at cross ways on old roads at three in the morning precisely. To those that step inside, he bids them welcome with a friendly tone. Those who find him are always seeking something, even if they themselves do not know what it is. Those who bow and scrape and show respect, he will try to help. Many widows and widowers, grieving mothers and mourning fathers leave the crossroads with lighter hearts and tear-stained smiles. But those who demand the use of his powers, with no respect for his art- those people are never seen in daylight again, only spotted as shambling, rotting thralls that loiter in the dark alleys.

Drayco- A dragonborn hero, set out on a journey to right the world’s wrongs. With a blade from their master, a shield from their mother, and the cloak of their father, they rush forward towards adventure on the back of their steed. They have taken on dragons and gods alike, and comes out with new scars and loot each time. They have earned the favor of the people, but the rage of lords and kings who send armies after them. Never have they been caught, but every hero has a flaw that brings about their downfall.

Gehero- A wise hermit and sage, just as he is now. Except this Gehero sits atop a mountain, brewing potions and teas as his dozens of cats trip about his feet. Weary adventures seek his wisdom, asking of their futures and fortunes. He sits with them, offers them tea and a place to sleep for the night. He cannot tell them what they want, he says, for he cannot see the future, but he can offer advice on how to get there.

Rufuss- A humble dwarf, who forges tools and items of value. No blade has ever come from his heated irons. Instead, he produces hoes and rakes that will never dull, hammers that never break, and nails that never bend. Horseshoes never need replacement, and his pliers never rust. The local humans adore him, and he is gifted many things for his hard, earnest work. Everything they request is promptly given, often with a twist or surprise that makes the tool even more amazing than the buyer was expecting.

Ashhur- A young king, only recently given the throne. He is inexperienced and afraid of his future, but he forges ahead for the good of his people. The serfs and poor are raised to the heights of the wealthiest, and the rich are stripped of their soiled coins. He rules with a steady hand and fair heart, his lands protected by the mountains and sea. No man is left without a home or bed, and no child without a meal at night.

Innocent- A ranger and druid of the night. He hunts the rarest, darkest creatures, his arrows glowing with a holy light as he strikes down monsters with hordes of gold and blood on their claws. He leads a band of warriors who have lived too long under the boot of the monster that controls their land. Their forests are covered in corpses, and they refuse to let these bodies continue to pile up.

Incoding- A tiefling rogue with the fury of a thousand suns. Cast from his homeland for something he didn’t do, he wanders the human world, his shoulders hunched against the whispers and stares of men and women in the streets. He has the power to call upon thunderstorms and lightning at a moments notice, and has fought battles that never need happen. He is burdened with scars and a bone-deep need of justice. He moves ever onward, seeking the one who can take him home.

Ruthless- The patron god of seas, storms, and heartbreak. His temple sits by the sea, where the people offer him gifts. Seashells, fish, and photos of fallen loved ones appear on his pedestal, and are never removed by mortal hands. He is a merciful, soft god, who looks out for the brokenhearted men and trembling women that seek shelter within his temple walls. To the ones who know the dark pain of loneliness, he appears in the night. Their candles go dark, but they know who is in their bedroom without needing to speak. He holds them and loves them as a midnight lover would, until the sun rises and he fades away. Women who were wronged seek his guidance and protection, and always finds that the one who had hurt them is no more.

Hounding- A barbarian orc warlord that craves power. He turned to the dark arts and ancient gods for help in his bloodbath of a mission. Nothing will stand in his way, he thinks. His blade is bloodstained, his armor polished, and his army strong. He feasts each night before the burning ruins of his latest conquer. But his people are restless, hungry, and unhappy. He doesn’t care, he snarls, unaware of the looks his civilians give one another, the subtle nods that say ‘its time’.

Bluegill- An old bard who travels with a merry band. They play in taverns and in the street, retelling tales of old, only asking for what people can spare. He has nothing but his guitar and the clothes on his back, but that’s enough. He lives to hear the children laugh, and give the people a reason to dance, even in the darkest of times.

Decaying- A banished king, who’s kingdom was ripped from his bleeding hands. With a rusted crown upon his head, and a cloak upon his shoulders, he seeks those who can win him his title back. But his people were quick to forget the man who tried to save them, and turned their backs when he begged their help. Cast from his home, he wanders other lands in search of a purpose. He hides in ancient ruins, staring too long into the flames of his camp fire as he wonders what will become of him.

Survivor- An ancient paladin, sworn by a curse to see the end of the world. He is older than the stars, as everlasting as time. He aches to rest, but his oath keeps him awake. He needs not sleep, drink, eat, or even breathe. He exists for one purpose: to live. He cannot die in battle, illness, or otherwise. He is a champion unrivaled, though he goes into war with nary a blade in his hand. Only one can free him from this pain.

#anonymous #ask #ooc answer #all bois #long post #very long post #au #fantasy au #headcanon rambles #ref

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

Linked Universe Fanfiction ch. 9: Can We Get Back to Adventuring, Please?

Stop! You’ve Violated the Law!

So, you’ve stumbled upon this original post for my Linked Universe fanfiction. That’s okay, it happens to everyone. As of March 2021, I’ve uploaded the entirety of this fanfic to my Archive of Our Own page. Along with finally giving the story a name--Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story--I made substantial edits to some of the chapters. These range from minor stylistic revisions to fixing a gaping plot hole that kinda completely broke the character conflict in the earlier chapters. I also renamed and renumbered (but not reordered) the chapters. Specifically, this is now Chapter 11: Can We Get Back to Adventuring, Please?

The AO3 iterations of these chapters are the definitive versions. So, if you would like to read this fanfiction, please do so on AO3, right here. With this embedded link. Hehe. Geddit? Link?

Note: My screen name on AO3 is FrancisDuFresne. Yes, that is me. I am not plagiarizing myself.

Anyway, for posterity’s sake, the rest of the original post is below the cut.

The Links continue their journey to the next village and now face a dense, dark forest. By the way, have you ever wondered what the Links think of the Timeline? Thus continues my fan narrative of the @linkeduniverse AU. Word count: 1275

“Just a few more minutes, boys!” Wind exclaimed. “We’ll be out of these hills and into the… oh, shoot.”

Legend smirked. “You forgot about the possible swarms of monsters?”

“… Yeah.”

The Links had been walking a shade above three hours since returning to reality. The fire was far from gone from their minds, but they were glad to be rid of this place. They had to admit it was beautiful, though. The noontime sun shone on rolling hills, wind blowing the tall, swaying grass. A few clouds had crept up on the edges of the horizon but showed no sign of raining on their proverbial parade.

As far as Time was concerned, things were back to normal. His companions hadn’t brought up the masks, and they acted no differently towards him than before today. Time suspected they may still have questions but didn’t want to dampen their good mood by asking them. That was fine. They could discuss it more tonight when they were comfortable and safe in an inn.

Wild chuckled. “Relax, Wind. We don’t know for sure if there are any monsters. The woods are just so thick that I can’t get a good reading of it.”

“After yesterday,” Legend began, “I’m not shocked there are limitations to that Slate of yours.”

Wild was about to shoot back a retort when Sky butted in, “Drop it. We got out of there safely.”

“Thanks to you, Sky.” Hyrule said.

“You can thank Fi,” he replied, patting the Master Sword’s hilt above his right shoulder. “She was the one that guided us.”

“She is quite the sword,” Time added. Secretly, he hated the Master Sword. He saw it as a curse, one of the many factors that led to his childhood suffering. However, it was a blessing to the other six of them that wielded it. He felt it best not to sully their opinion of it.

“Fi helped me too, once,” Wild said.

Sky looked at the back of Wild’s head; the latter had the map and was leading the group. He thought Fi had only ever spoken to him. He wasn’t offended, per se, more shocked than anything. “Really?”

“I was mortally wounded when Calamity Ganon struck my Hyrule a century ago. Zelda thought I was doomed, but the Master Sword glowed and sort of sang to her. That let her know I could still be saved. I suppose I owe Fi my life.”

“Huh,” Sky replied. He drew the sword. Its silver blade reflected the sun brighter than the others’ swords, save for the Four Sword. He smiled. “Heh, I wouldn’t expect any less of her.”

Given he himself had forged the Master Sword, Sky gathered that his adventure somehow took place before any of the others’. It still confused him how they all could coexist. By reciting the legends and history they knew, they figured out a somewhat cohesive, yet confounding, chain of events.

Sky forged the Master Sword and Hyrule had yet to be established. He was clearly first. Time witnessed the split of the Triforce, so he must be next. Based on the historical texts in Hyrule Castle, Twilight seemed to live centuries after Time. Over their time together, Twilight began to see eerie similarities between Time and the ghostly Hero’s Shade who mentored him. He preferred to ignore them for his own sanity’s sake.

It all got muddier after that. Time had suspected Zelda sending him back in time had somehow disrupted the flow of time. Lo and behold, Wind seemed to also live centuries after Time, but Hyrule had been flooded. His legends told of a Hero of Time that disappeared when he was needed. Time wondered whether Wind lived in the world that Zelda sent him away from.

Even more disturbing was Legend’s story. In his world, Ganon was sealed away by the seven sages, but not a hero. In this alternate reality, could Time have perished in his fight against Ganon? Hyrule had heard vague legends of a legendary sword, but never figured it was the Master Sword until he met his other selves. Strangely, Warrior and Wild somehow seemed to hail from a melding of everyone else’s worlds.

Four was the most peculiar case. Neither the Triforce nor the Master Sword seemed to exist in his world. Instead, there were the Picori bestowing the Light Force upon the Hylians. The concept of it all utterly confused the Links. After trying to piece it together, they never mentioned it again.

Sky was snapped out of his thoughts of multiple timelines and realities when Warrior said suddenly, “Well, it’s about time.”

They had reached the top of a hill and were faced with a tall, dense forest. The heroes couldn’t see the village beyond, but figured the treetops were obscuring it. Wild frowned. He thought they would be able to see it based on map’s elevation readings. He hooked the Sheikah Slate back on his belt.

He withdrew his paraglider from his pouch, gripped one handle with his left hand, and knelt on the ground. In a flash, ghostly flames appeared around Wild. He jumped. An updraft carried him a hundred feet in the air, a hazy image of a Rito soaring up with him. His paraglider holding him aloft, he got a better view of their surroundings.

Satisfied, Wild returned to the ground. Despite seeing him use this ability several times before, the others were still awed by the sight. The concept of fallen warriors imparting this and three other powers upon him was foreign. Time’s experience with his masks was similar, but Wild’s seemed much more wholesome in nature.

“Don’t worry, I can see the tops of buildings way down there,” Wild confirmed. “Five or so hours in there and we’ll be through.”

“Wait, wait,” Warrior said. “Let’s think this through. We do not want another ambush on our hands.”

Wind groaned. He found Warrior’s obsessions with plans and tactics annoying. Time shot him a look. Wind saw it and stood at attention.

Warrior continued, “Legend, arrow count.”

Thinking back to last night, he remembered that he had counted the arrows before going to bed. That seemed so long ago. “Uh… oh, right. Forty-two.”

“Hm… four each. Wild, you’re our best archer, you need more. Volunteers?”

Sky shrugged. “Aye. I’m better with a sword anyway.”

“Seconded,” Time said.

“Third…ed?” Wind flubbed.

A chuckle spread across the group. Fighting back more laughter, Warrior composed himself. “Okay, Wild, take sixteen. Make them count.”

Wild nodded.

“Legend, Twilight, Four, Hyrule. Take four each. I’ll take five.”

Legend pulled their stash of arrows out of his pouch and divvied them up. Warrior came up last and took the remaining five. They fit their ammunition in their quivers. “Right, next order of business,” Warrior continued. “Twi, transform and take point. We need your senses. Wild, I want you behind him with two arrows nocked. Fire at Twi’s mark. Sky, cover them. Everyone else, fall in behind them. I’ll take up the rear. Keep your eyes on the shadows. It looks pretty dark in there, so everyone grab a lantern. We’re low on oil, so let’s try to get out of there ASAP.”

The others nodded. This seemed easy enough. At least, if they didn’t encounter anything nefarious. They knew they probably would, but they could handle it. Warrior turned to Twilight and nodded. The latter took on his beastly form and took the lead. Wild drew his bow and nocked two arrows. The others unsheathed their swords and raised their newly lit lanterns. With a last look at the clear blue sky, the heroes entered the dark forest.

#linkeduniverse fanfiction #linkeduniverse #my own #my writing #fanfiction #Can We Get Back to Adventuring Please

[deliciousscaloppine]

The Blood is the Life

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Vampire AU. Huaisang drinks a mysterious water and has a glimpse into the past. Nie Mingjue hunts in a forest something that might not be a man. (There is sex in this one Nie Mingjue/Meng Yao...and Huaisang is empath-voyeur in this one- did I mention this has some subtle elements of parody?)

Because it would be too suspicious for an inept Clan leader like him to take Meng Yao's trove of mysterious objects directly, he has the guards move them to that special hall, he and his brother used to abscond. There he lays them all down. He has even the court secretary write a complete inventory of them. The idea of course wasn't his, but his brother had assembled many reliable men through the years, and all he needed to say to receive such a suggestion was “There are so many strange things left in his cell. I wonder what should we do with them?”

But now that he is finally alone in this hall he can examine them to his heart's content. Of all of them, perhaps the most curious is the little box with this array of strange utensils, probably used in the brewing of various conconctions. In it he finds the little saucer Meng Yao used to drink water and even a piece of silk that in it hides a strand of braided hair.

Huaisang twirls it curiously between his hands, wondering if it really belongs to his brother. Is that how Meng Yao bewitches and controls men, by taking things from them.

The temptation is too strong. He has his brother's hair and the saucer Meng Yao drunk from. He might be too weak to pry answers from a mind, but maybe reading the trace of a memory inscribed in two things will not be as difficult. But for this he needs privacy.

Carrying these items on his person to bring them in his study, making sure the door is locked and the guards dispatched is an embarassing situation. He doesn't like feeling that what he is doing might be wrong. But if he does it to Meng Yao, how wrong could it really be?

He let's the curtains fall around his space and pouring water on the saucer, he places his brother's hair in it. “Let me see what my brother saw.” he mutters and drinks that same water.

It takes him a while to penetrate this darkness. A darkness scented with the aroma of a forest. Of wet pinewood, and pine needles dripping with rain. Of wildflowers and fresh grass. He doesn't see, as if some piede of cloth binds his sight. He hears the laborious breaths of a beast as it climbs a mountain; a handsome horse rasping in the chill of a still frozen spring. 

His brother is here, young and handsome, he has come to hunt. There is net woven with pearls and other magical talismans at his side, on his shoulder hangs a bow, Baxia remains sheathed at the side of his saddle.

This is a dangerous place, Huaisang senses. Evil and mystical things lurk there- some beast, some ghost, some man. But his brother has no fear as he hunts his prey, the dew from the leaves splattering the hooves of his horse. It's only then that he senses how warm his brother is. He is warm like a fire. No wonder the morning chill doesn't get to him. Huaisang eyes a little bird watching them curiously, hoping from branch to branch. Oh, it's certainly following them. This is an enchanted creature as well.

The fire rises in the breast of his brother. This is not some leisurely hunt. He is seeking something, or a someone. Perhaps Lan Xichen's Lianfang. Surely in a mountain rife with magical things, his presence would be hardly noticed. Clever Meng Yao chose his hiding spot well.

Pretty soon he can feel his brother's thirst. Curiously he raises the skin attached to his saddle, but it's empty. A known trick, evil things will always tempt people with thirst or hunger, or the alleviation of some secret grief. But his brother is not foolish. He can follow this temptation to its source.

Nie Mingjue dismounts and leaves his horse behind, the weaved pearl net in his hand. He wants to catch this creature, so he follows his thirst like a guide until he happens upon a happy brook. The water is cold, straight from the melted snow of a hidden peak. This is undoubtedly Gusu! Everything is cold, and fresh, and arouses all the senses. Clarity as far as his eyes can penetrate.

His brother leans in to drink. He catches the water between his lips, his hands bringing it to his mouth. This water tastes exquisitely, like something divine lives in it. Then suddenly as if he has noticed something, his brother raises his head. And before him at the opposite side of the brook leans a naked young man. Nie Mingjue looks as if he would a mirror, and he is as astounded as if he saw something other than his own reflection.

Huaisang recognizes this man, Meng Yao or Lianfang, whatever is his name. He leans over the brook, with lips just as wet, and a wound on his breast that bleeds profusely. As if he too was equally astounded by the sight of the powerful hunter, he makes to stand, his hands darting to hide his nudity.

It's so warm inside Mingjue's head that it is almost distracting. But his brother is not some unaware prince. He reaches for his magical net and within minutes he has captured his magical prey. Meng Yao cries and struggles and bleeds, a pitiable sight, yet so beautiful that it sparks something in his brother. As if someone regretting shooting a bird, he kneels to craddle his wounded victim. Meng Yao's face is so handsome, like some enchanting heavenly creature peers from beneath his eyelashes.

“He is important to me” Lan Xichen had said. If something is not heavenly, could anyone in Cloud Recesses want it?

This seems to be the thought of his brother, who puts his lips on this netted creature his holds. He kisses its mouth, seeking its tongue and meets it with his own. And for its part this strange thing sighs deeply and kisses back, as if suddenly the water it was previously seeking now pours straight from Nie Mingjue's lips.

He would like to warn his brother, to tell him to pull away, but Nie Mingjue certainly has no delusions. He knows what he is doing, and what he wants to do now is to make love to this creature that is both man and magic. It's like he has discovered deep in the mountain some fountain that grants wishes, some sage peer who holds answers he will only speak after the noble hero has pried them away from him with his own might.

His brother draws the net from this Meng Yao and sees his bleeding, naked glory like piece of coveted jade. Only that this jade is warm, and pliant and real like another human being. Something unreal that came to life, Huaisang thinks. Something that only a wish made true. Something that acquired intellect only very late into the story of the world. That is why it's so alluring.

He expects their lovemaking to be effortless and natural like he has read in books, but it's actually agonizing, precisely because it's real. His brother penetrates this other man, with uncharacteristic hardness, and it's difficult. The handsome creature rasps angrily with tears in its eyes even as it yields and opens its legs, even as he draws his brother inside him. It's clever, very clever. 

Maybe once the man has taken what he wants, he'll fall asleep and it will flee undisturbed. It watches the branches of the trees stretching underneath a bright, rainy sky, and it watches the birds as they flutter in a circle around them. So many of them, so restless.

Someone is watching them.

Mingjue holds and embraces Meng Yao, he feels him with the palms of his hands, with his mouth, entering him and aching inside him. His rapture so great that he drinks the blood from the wound on the creature's breast. Meng Yao's cries are so powerful, like a nail trying to lodge itself in his head. This is some unholy ritual, Huaisang thinks. Something detested, his brother has unfortunately fallen for.

He feels how the dew covers Meng Yao's body, makes it wet and slick and cold like the skin of a snake, but his brother warms it with his own body, his own life. He feels the expanse of their skin where it touches, on the brush of kisses, in their tight embrace, in the fingers entangled with inky hair. Huaisang sees how his brother's hair has become wild, how it has fallen over Meng Yao's head, how it connects with his own strands, almost tying their heads together.

It feels mad, but Huaisang can't say anything, like a wet sponge has been lodged in his mouth. A ward, or time itself. This is the past he has to remind himself. There is nothing I can do to undo it.

He doesn't know for how long his brother takes his pleasure, it seems forever to him. He knows that it feels good, Meng Yao feels good. The way he rasps and whines almost viciously, the way his slightly bended knees touch his brother's sides, the smooth soft torso that twists full of sinewy muscles, even the boyish arms that bulge with tension. He cries and yields ecstatically into the forest, delighted to have ensnared such a hunter.

His brother touches him everywhere, he kisses him everywhere, he takes him deeply until this creature, Meng Yao, or Lianfang, whatever is its name becomes weak and swoons. His brother is clever, so very clever. If he wasn't this strong, he wouldn't dare to contest with such a monster. As it lies on the grass, spent, with eyes wet and limbs soft and pliant, his brother grasps it like something precious, and puts his fingers in his wound.

Huaisang's heart clenches painfully at this intrusion, as if somehow through space and time he became the target of this abuse. In how much pain must Meng Yao be? It seems unimaginable to him. Ηe grabs his brother's offending hand, but doesn't shove it away, instead he holds it there, as it searches inside his wound. Huaisang can feel there is no malice, or any evil in his brother's heart, yet he pushes painfully through the ripped tissues as if seeking something.

Huaisang can almost feel it coiled deep into Meng Yao's, somethin metallic like the tip of a broken blade. His cheeks are wet with sweat and tears, his face in anguish. A small sharp something is tearing his breast. Mingjue is the one who pulls it out. 

He feels a disgusting shiver down his spine as it is extracted. This is Meng Yao's pain, he thinks.

The offending thing that he never sees, is summarily discarded pulling with it blood and clotted tissue. Meng Yao's perfect face with its squinted eyes and wet hair clinging to his skin trembles in the aftermath of pain. But when his eyes open, he watches with them his brother with something akin to warmth and gratitude- if this creature really knows what these things are. 

And his brother is also staring deeply into its eyes, enthralled; the warmth of his body emanating in the chilly mist that surrounds them and progressively he feels colder and colder, while Meng Yao burns like a coal.

#the untamed #the untamed fic #the untamed fanifc #nie huaisang #meng yao #nie mingjue #nieyao

[tidesage-crestwell]

Haunted Mirror (AU)

[Music/Video Inspiration] Trigger Warning: Blood, Self Harm, Gore, Horror.

Gen, Caelin, and Joe had gotten lost from the rest of the team and left wandering a darkened forest. Even Fletcher couldn’t seem to find them among the thick gnarled branches. Fog lolled about the groups feet, and strange noises left them all tense. Night was falling fast but finally they found shelter in what appeared to be an abandoned mansion.

“Weird.. I don’t remember seeing this when scouting.” Caelin spoke quietly, glancing over her shoulder towards the forest.

Gen shook her head, “The village did say it was up here.. but..” She trailed off at the tugging on her mind.

Joe kept a hand on Gen’s shoulder as he looked around, growing uneasy.

“No use sticking it outside.. Who knows what manner of creature is in those woods.” Caelin rationalized, though not fully liking the idea himself.

As they entered through the creaking door, they were met with a sudden slam and click behind them. Candles lit inexplicably and all led to a single room.

“Y-You think something wants us to go in there?” Genny swallowed hard, resting a hand on her lantern as she slowly stepped towards it.

Caelin tried to speak but a shadow covered his mouth and he felt himself yanked elsewhere, without the other two looking behind them. As Joe and Genn stepped into the room, there was a single mirror on the far wall, covering it but showed no reflection yet. As they stepped closer, they began to see their reflections but they were warped and covered in blood.

“W-Wha-” Gennesy started, only to have a blackened hand reach out and cover her mouth, causing her eyes to widen in alarm.

“Shh..” The voice whispered, sounding between the Tidesages and an echoing wind.

“Gen!” Joe reached to yank Gen away, only for a blade to fly from the mirror and pierce his shoulder.

The tidesage stumbled backwards in terror, falling on her butt as out stepped the warped visions. The man holding the sword hilt that was stuck in Joe, a maddened grin on his face as his eye was bright red. The woman stepped out with bare feet before Genn, her torn and burned robe the least of the sight as her entire left hand up to her elbow was blackened and crackling with blue lightning.

Clucking her tongue, the other Genn grinned, “Such naughty children.. Entering this forbidden place.”

“Who are you!” Joe demanded as the man ripped the blade from him.

“Why I’m you.. but better.” The man laughed, flicking the blood off the blade.

“That’s impossible..” Gennesy whispered, still trying to back away on her hands from the mirror.

The other’s black hair shifted, revealing the blood streaking from her blackened eyes, “Is it?”

The couple felt immediate fear stricken their hearts. Genn found her back against someone’s legs, causing her to look up.

“C-Caelin?” Genn asked in vain.

The bright white grin that crossed its face was answer enough, the edge of his mouth holding bloodied scars as his clawed hand reached to grab Genn by the hair and yank her up, causing a scream to come from her lips.

Joe turned to call, “Genn!” Only to feel shadows wrap around his throat, leaving him gasping for air.

“Hmph.. Taking my fun.” The red eyed man stated, glaring at the bloodied sage.

“No need to worry.. You’ll get your fun.” Her echoed voice cooed, “There’s always more where these came from.”

A gunshot rang loudly as the ‘Caelin’ looked down in annoyance at the bullet hole now in his chest. He turned and threw Genn into a wall, causing the wall to crack along with her to let out a cry of pain as she was knocked unconscious and bleeding from the head.

“Put them down, you fucking bastards.” Caelin growled out, aiming his gun despite his vision blurry as blood dripped from his forehead and one eye was swollen.

“Hmph.. I thought I finished you.” ‘Caelin’ sneered, his voice rough, almost demonic.

Caelin shot again, this time for his counterpart’s eye, “I said get away!”

The creature raised a hand to the black blood that came from the shot.

“Struggling, C̳͇͔̜̗̩̞̝̫̎̄͊̕͘͘̚̚͝â̷̢̠̦̱̯̲͖̾̓̔̄̐̉̚ͅé̖͇̥̱͙̘͇̝͑̈́͆́ḽ̨͉̯̠̬̌͐̊̚͡i̻̥̦̫͚̹͚̞̻̒͑̈͐̑̀ͅn̸͕͕̣̠̰̪̟̺͒̈́̊̾̅͆͆̌̚͜͡ͅ?” The woman snickered.

. . "̯̼̝̪̻̹͇̑̿̌̃́̆͞S̷̤̺̯̞̯̞̠̻̎͆̿̔̾͊̑͑͆͟͜i̯̹̦̙͉͍̤̙͊̈́̽̓̍͘̕͟l̵̨̟̹̟͎̂̓̾͋͋̚͡ẹ̸̛̛͖̩̫̫̜̏͋͘̕ͅn̜͙̬̣̞̫͂̓̽̎͡͝c͔̗̝̪̱̼̒̎͋͒̚̕̕e̷̛̩̣̰̭̬̜̗͉̋̂͋́͂̔̇̕͟͝ Ḇ̭̠͕̬̜͙͗̎̅͊̾͌̈͊͝l̢͙̖͚̖̣͒́̐̓̌̍̉̏ͅọ̰̳̣̪͍̊̏̿͗̀͑͂̚͟͢͡͝ȍ̶̢̢̠̬͚̳̦̘̰̀̌̊͋̄d̖̙̺͙̙̍͐̉̋͋̈́͘͢-̡̻͇̜̺̉̀̉͌̑̓͢͠b̷̧͉̤͔̼̖̫͗̄̾͒̈́̎̂i̷̢̲̠͍̻̋̇̈̿͗͆̚̕͢͢͝͞t̳͍̮̜̩̩̞̐̆̓́͂͟͜͞č͎̣̟̜͉̪̫̮̻̙̋͗̀̈́͗̍́͗̔h͕̻̳̰̰͔̗́̓͛̑̊̽͘͢.̷̡̞̝̙̹̭͉̯͇̈͋̈́̀̍͂̚̚͠͞"̡̢̣̘̮̃̍̋̃̈́̓̓͂͛͘

She held her hands up, giving a shrug before another shot rang out, this time into her shoulder causing her to drop the shadows around Joe.

With a gasp, Joe fell to his knees, speaking weakly, “Caelin run..”

“Grab Gen and go.” Caelin ordered Joe as C̳͇͔̜̗̩̞̝̫̎̄͊̕͘͘̚̚͝â̷̢̠̦̱̯̲͖̾̓̔̄̐̉̚ͅé̖͇̥̱͙̘͇̝͑̈́͆́ḽ̨͉̯̠̬̌͐̊̚͡i̻̥̦̫͚̹͚̞̻̒͑̈͐̑̀ͅn̸͕͕̣̠̰̪̟̺͒̈́̊̾̅͆͆̌̚͜͡ͅ begun to fight him for the gun.

“You aren’t going anywhere.” The red eyed Joe brought his sword up over his head.

“Stop you fools!” The Bloodsage shouts as a misfired bullet nearly hit the mirror, causing her to glare at the fighting Caelins.

"̛̣͍̮̩̤͎̫̘͎́̉̎̂̋͐͐͟͡Ȋ̧̺͚͎̦͑͋̑̆̍͐̕͝ ṡ̸̛̠̙̙̥̟̻̖͙̫͋́͛̈͝ą̶̧̘̠̤̟͚̤̇̇̽̊̽̚͟ȋ͙̦̪͇̬̥͓̟͑͂̈́̾͗͌́̓d̹̱̖̦̳̺̰͕̆̿́̈̎̓͡ s͍͚̗̜̫͖̗͒̌̊̀̀̍̿į͈͉̮̺̠͇̻͛͆̋̓͠l͙̦̹̘̈̎̿́̂̃ͅe̸̢̛̘̝̥̲̟̮͉̅̿̒͊́͗͟ṉ̶̪̞͖͋̄͑̀̑͝͞ͅc̴͍̗̺̣̖͚̙̿͌̋̌̏̚͟͞ȩ̛̳̪̘͖͗̀̋̎̎͞͞ B̡̮̮̯͔̬̪̮͎̂̌̾̀̋͠l̶̡̪̼̭̻̑̿͑̇̓͟͠ͅo̵̡̱̞̪͔̥̫͈̪̖̔͆͌̀̃̅õ̴͈͈͙͓̩̂̃̆̕͢͠͞ḍ̛̣͇͖̭̗͑͊̆͑͌͊̚͟-̸̧̢̬̖̘͔̼͔̦͙̈́̑͊͋͌̈͆͠b̝̲̜͔̫̳͋́͋̐̄į̶̨̦͙͕͔̔̀͐͒̐̃͆͊̽͝ẗ̰̮͔͔̪́͐̿́̉͆͘c̢̪̥̳̲̄̐̽̋̈̚h̸͈̫̝̻̺̐̓͊̾͐̈́͝͠!̸̛͎̻͓͇͕̜̙̎͋̄̍͑̈́̂͝"̶̧̣͎̻̲̖̦̳͉͔̈́̋̌̅̕

The house began shaking angrily, a deep red mist coming from her fists. Noting the woman’s concern, Caelin manages to kick back C̳͇͔̜̗̩̞̝̫̎̄͊̕͘͘̚̚͝â̷̢̠̦̱̯̲͖̾̓̔̄̐̉̚ͅé̖͇̥̱͙̘͇̝͑̈́͆́ḽ̨͉̯̠̬̌͐̊̚͡i̻̥̦̫͚̹͚̞̻̒͑̈͐̑̀ͅn̸͕͕̣̠̰̪̟̺͒̈́̊̾̅͆͆̌̚͜͡ͅ  and shoot at the mirror, leaving the three entities eyes going wide and moving to try and get between the shot. With them distracted, Joe scrambled to grab Genn and leaving with Caelin on his heel while twisted demonic screams filled the air.

Caelin slammed his shoulder against the front door, to no avail. “Damn it.”

“What are we gonna do?” Joe looked towards where the entities were.

“We need to see if there’s a window or something we can get out of.” Caelin turned, quickly darting up the stairs, “Come on.”

Joe hurried, keeping Genn cradled close. The Tidesage was stuck in her mind.

Deep within the subconscious... ((Music))

“You’re pathetic.” The Bloodsage laughed at her, “Too weak to use your birthright to save your stupid friends.”

“Shut up! You’re a damn witch!” Genn screamed at the image, blackness all around them.

“Face it. Tonight, you either die or become me.” The Bloodsage laughed harshly. “I should be impressed, but.. You’re all destined to die.”

“I said shut up!” The blackness began to shake, Gen glared at the entity.

“You can’t even wake up.. How do you plan to defeat me?” The woman stretched her arms out, “Face it. You’re a failure, just like always.”

Gen began to lurch for the woman but found her wrists and arms bound by darkness, keeping her put, “DAMN YOU!”

The woman kept laughing at Genn, “We’re coming~.”

Back in reality..

“Tick tick tock.” The man’s voice echoed through the halls as Joe and Caelin kept trying to find escape.

“Why is everything boarded?” Caelin growled in exasperation, before kicking open a door.

. . "̸͇̘̯̦̤͕̻̃̉̅̅̌̇̕͢͝͞͡J̶͕̙͍̣̘̥̿͌̓͋̈͑̉̈́̎̐u̷͙̠͕̳͎͙̼͗͊̌̂͗̃́͝ͅs̷̢̗͖͇̦̻̟̪͋͐̃̑͐͢t̸̻͚̻̲͗̍͛͒͑͐͘͢͜͞ s̛̻̖̙͓͓̣͖͔͙͛̓͐̊͌̓̑͠ṭ̳̩͎͈̰̪̌͑̓͂̅͡o̘̹̜͖̘͔͒̊̂͂͜͠͝p̸̛͍̪̲̙͙̺̽̏̔͑̕͜ ṟ̵̨̼̠̫̳͍̞̆̌̈́̑͘ͅȕ̷͚̠̗̥͓̩͔̔͂͟͠͝͝n̨̢͈͈̭̪̳̯̟̓̏̿͐̂̀̐͋̐̚ņ̴̡̰̣̫̼̳̪̥̑̔̋̒͡͞į͓̦͈͎̪̗́̀̔͑͋n̶̳̭̙͖̻͋̐͑͒̈́g̢̨͖͉͔̜̺͖͔̾͛̓̅͆̿͜.̢̻͚̰͚̯̬̜̓̈́͐̓̎̎̓̕͠͡ͅ"̧̪̣͔̠̪͓̥̎́͆̈̂͟ . .”Crap crap crap.” Caelin curses under his breath before shutting the door behind him and the couple, “Looks like we might have to fight.”

“C-Caelin..” Joe’s voice was weak and frantic.

Caelin turned to see Genny standing with blood dripping from her eyes with shadows closing the room and choking Joe. Caelin’s eyes went wide as he looked at Genn then heard the door shatter behind him.

To be continued...

(( @brandstonethings, @brennandimarzo ))

#The Bloodsage and Frienemies #AU