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ganondoodle · 3 months

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totk cataclysm event wasnt just a great (but utterly missed) opportunity to change the map in techincally little ways that has drastic consequences both in stakes and in gameplay (like i mentioned before, flooding the gerudo desert would have meant devastating consequences for its ecosystem- like imagine little islands of sand still poking out, acting as a sort of last doomed refuge for sandseals- but also cahnged the entire gameplay of it, good chance to introduce some neat new ways to surf on water like a new ridable creature or an ice shield freezing a path while you surf on it, the gerudo being forced to save the city from drowing in various means or now living on the roofs, trying to adapt by building boats ect - also call back to older games?? since totk loves that so much ..-, vah naboris serving as the savest refuge being high above the water, even if non functional; similarly takign away ALL water from the zora region, gaving it all dry out would imemdiately turn into something way different and could mean death for the zora- forcing them to move to the lower parts of akkala for example- maybe vah ruta is still halfway functioning bc the faith the zora have to mipha, dorephan and sidon is, while not enough to keep it fully functional, but enough to generate some water so the most stubborn or brave zora set up around it like a last oasis; i know its somewhat done with death mountain but the gorons dont really suffer from it bc their only problem is a drugged rock that makes them mean and lazy ..- what about collapsing or exploding it, leaving a large crater that over the course of the game could start to grow with plant life since vulcanic earth is so fertile- some never seen before ones that was dormant in the lava and now that its cooled off is springing to life, which might seem good at first but for the area and its wildlife means loss of their habitat; the rito freezing over, but actually having to move, maybe into the tabantha canyon, building their new makeshift homes in between the walls of it- generally just switiching things around a bit would have done so much wihtout having to edit every last detail ((seriously tho, how did this game take so long given that botw took similar but they did that ENTIRE main map as detailed as it is AND made it all coherent with itself and its themes- im ranting again ..)

-but it ALSO would have been the perfect opportunity to introduce new weather types created by the sudden change in environment, somethign like a super strong wind that slows you when walking agaisnt and lets you jump much farther when with it- a darkness thing that clouds the world in utter darkness with only little light getting through anything that is caused by mushrooms from the udnerground invading the surface and their spores snuffs out all light (which could explain the weird darkness in the ruins from botw too!!), or just simply mist! making everything misty changes the entire feel of any environment drastically- you could make vertain enemies spawn only in certain weather conditions, lessening the repetive overuse of them; and that is only on the surface- what if the sky had sunbeams so strong it sets anything on fire if you dare to leave the shadows- to comabt it get a armor with a giant hat!! the underground could have been filled with different environments in the first place, but then of course thered be those dark spores of mushrooms, an entire forest you have to carefully travers other wise making them release their spores and make it all more difficult, glowy mushrooms, MORE glowy mushroms, theres so many weird ass shrooms IRL you could take inspo from!! maybe soemthing like a forest of kelp, long flowy plants obstructing view and making you anxious by any movement- there could be one thats a mimic or infected with miasma, slightly off color and its knobs are malice eyes that open only if it thinks you cant see it

(also for the idea of taking botws stuff and recontextualizing it, the guardians or shrines, now non fucntional, could be infected my miasma sometimes, maybe randomly to keep you guessing- an overgrown shrine suddenly lifting itself up with hands clawing at you when you get too close or do sth wrong to distrub it- similar with guardians tho the effect might be less since you know them as a threat already- or sth i mentioned in another post, a tower being used as a weapon by a gigatic miasma monster- the one in the gerudo region with the bottomless pit for example, perfect for an arena for you to run around in the spiral while its swinging at you etc etc)

JUST taking what botw had and mixing it up, expanding on it, even if technically little change, it could do so much but in the actual game death mountain and rito is the only ones that saw anything of a change like it, and it largely .. didnt change anything or was reversible easily, and had no actual consquences that meant anything, neither stakes nor environmental or narratively (the gerudo felt like it at first but its also largely reversible, its just kinda .. adding a bit of city)

i hhhhhhhhhhhhhh have so many thoughts still, i am just better at holding them back .... also dont wanna annoy lmao

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #totk #loz totk #i still want to do the rewrite #but man wheres the time #i will never not be salty about totk #“YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE”#i wanna yell bc it could have been ... so good

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siriusleee · 6 months

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pen pal au with konig? 🥺

send in a character and an au and I'll write the first scene that appears to me.

His letters come in various intervals - sometimes in pristine white envelopes, the stamp meticulously pasted into the corner. Other times they come crumpled together, his chicken scratch writing smudged by water droplets.

But the letters always come, English intermingling with German phrases you have to look up the translation for. Sometimes they come with Polaroid pictures of exotic locations: snow-capped mountains, open deserts storming with sand tornadoes.

He always addresses you as Liebling, the word nearly carved into whatever paper the letter comes through on that week. You can tell when he’s back home because the letters in in on heavy paper - parchment almost. When he’s in the field he writes to you on anything he can: notebook paper ripped from somewhere, once on the edges newspaper written in a foreign language you couldn’t begin to translate.

His latest letter was short, written on a napkin with a mysterious orange stain in the corner, behind it a Polaroid you hadn’t been able to look at - not yet. Wrapped in a wrinkled envelope with someone else’s address marked out, you’re surprised the Post Master didn’t throw it away in transit.

Can’t write much - moving soon. Miss you. Miss you.

König.

You set the napkin to the side to peer at the dark Polaroid image - you can only assume it’s König standing in the middle, gun crossing his chest - black mask covering his face. Behind him, you can just make out makeshift buildings - all canvas and plywood.

Miss you.

The words cut right to the center of you. The two of you had never met; you’d found his address online, sent a letter on a whim. There was never an expectation of him sending one back, never an expectation of spending a year waiting impatiently at the post office to pick up your mail to see if another letter had come in.

The two of you had never met to miss each other, but the shape of him in the image is so intimately familiar to you that as you trace your fingers around the edges you know that you miss him too.

Tucking away his picture into a safe spot in your desk drawer, you pull out a sheet of paper, thick and heavy between your fingers. Your pen feels clumsy between your fingers as you start to write out the beginning of the letter.

I miss you, too.

#my fics #ask #anon #könig #call of duty shorts #call of duty imagines #konig #cod könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty

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lowkeyrobin · 1 month

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can u write a tmr newt x gn!reader where they were really close in the glade but slowly started to drift off of their friendship when they were in wckd compartments but got together again during one of the scorch nights(angst to fluffy thingy) tried my best to make it make sense:^)

ooo okay okay I got you ; idk I just had zero ideas for this?? I apologize lmao, I got like the basis of what you wanted, I'm just posting bc I spent way too long making just this 💀

NEWT ; rekindling a friendship in the scorch

summary ; friends to not friends to friends again in the scorch

warnings ; language

word count ; 959

masterlist

You and Newt were inseparable in the Glade. You did nearly everything together, following each other around, finding comfort in one another. It changed once you escaped the maze, however.

Even though you shared a room in your new home inside a lab, it didn't help whatsoever. After that first warm shower, everything between you two just changed.

You were never able to have lunch with your friends, always being pulled away for more and more testing. You'd seen Newt following Thomas around like a lost dog.

Between all the stress and physical deterioration, you didn't have time to talk or share thoughts with him anymore. He seemed to think the same way as you basically ignored each other as the days passed. Everything seemed to be a problem now, even though no words were spoken, only looks, or for that matter, the lack of them.

Upon finding out that WCKD was never gone in the first place, you quickly join the escape with your new friend Aris, crawling around through the vents at dark. The escape was quick and calculated, and nearly ended in death, probably a solid fourteen times. But, your group escaped to the dark, sandy scorch outside.

Bergs fly overhead, lights shining onto the sand in search of you. You all ran through the rough terrain as fast as you could and hid behind a large area of hills, waiting for them to retreat, hoping they wouldn't find you.

Unluckily, you slid down next to Newt, not a glance shared between you two. You instead looked over at Aris and Thomas to your right, making sure they were both in one piece.

The long, painful hike through the scorch continued, Newt behind Thomas and Teresa while you were behind those three, then Minho and Fry. Winston and Aris were behind you, symmetrically separating you and Newt.

The night passes, hours and hours of walking and sweat fatiguing you.

You stumble upon a mall, building up your outfits and learning some more about the Cranks that flooded the scorch. Your fight through the mall was intense and still really God damn awkward as you found yourself helping Newt up off the floor after being tripped, nearly left for dead for the Cranks.

You sprint behind the group, catching up as Thomas leads you to the exit.

Once the adrenaline wore off, it was back to the exhausting trudging through the sand.

You kept your distance with Newt, especially after Winston had fallen ill to the Flare Virus. You'd both known Winston for most of the time you could remember about your lives. The pain after hearing the lonely gunshot in the distance stopped you all in your tracks before continuing some moments later.

The days were far too long for the group of teenagers. Why you were all bundled up in a desert was beyond you, but you'd take listening to the others rather than dying because you didn't cover up. No one knew who was actually immune or not, so it wouldn't be worth it to try and test it out.

You'd taken refuge under some rocks in a little flatland area in the desert once it hit dark. You'd barely spoken in the past few days, malnourished and exhausted. You, Aris, Fry, and Newt are the stragglers left awake, baking cans of beans over the fire while also tending to it, making sure the others got some warmth as they slept.

As the hours passed, Fry and Aris fell asleep, cuddling up in the heavy clothing they found extra warmth in. Who knew a desert would be freezing once the sun had set? Obviously not you, since most of any important memory ever had been wiped, but yknow.

That left you and Newt awake, sitting a few feet away from each other, an awkward silence among you. You tap your fingers on the sand beneath you, then graze them around in little patterns, unable to find yourself tired even if you wanted to. You were exhausted tired, not sleepy tired, sadly.

The blonde surprisingly speaks up.

"Thanks for saving my ass in the mall"

You glance over at him, then look back down at the sand beneath your fingertips. You nod. "Yeah, anytime"

He slowly nods, looking out at the empty miles of sand and dirt surrounding you in all directions. "Is something wrong between us?" He asks, "You haven't been talking to me at all, and you've always got this intimidating look on your face when I look over at you, so I mean, I didn't wanna bother you, ya know?"

You shrug in response. "I mean, it started back at that lab. They were always testing on me and I was just tired, but once we escaped I kinda thought you were trying to ignore me. I dunno, sorry if I read that wrong"

His expression morphs to one of sadness and guilt before wrapping you in a hug, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to ignore you, Y/n"

You lightly smile, wrapping your arms around him. "Sorry for kind of being a bitch about it"

"Look, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. We did kind of escape the maze, then WCKD after being tricked, and we've been running through this bloody desert for days. I don't blame you. If anything, I'll blame Rat-Man for burning you out with testing in that lab. " The dirty blonde smiles, patting your back.

"Oh, thank you, Newt. How could I ever repay you?" You chuckle, pulling away from the hug as he does.

He shrugs, a devious yet smug smirk on his face. "You could repay me in water?"

"My cantine has been empty since this morning!"

"Damnit"

#lowkeyrobin #tmr newt #newt tmr x reader #tmr newt x reader #newt x reader #newt tmr #the maze runner x reader #maze runner x gn reader #maze runner x reader #maze runner oneshot #the maze runner #gender neutral reader #gn reader #gn!reader #they/them reader #thomas brodie sangster x reader

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mrsevans90 · 5 months

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 1

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Word Count: 3,502

Warnings: Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A big thanks to @shellyshellshell for encouraging me to write this story!

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

*Syverson POV*

It’s certainly difficult to leave the cool air conditioning of the house to head to work when the weather forecast predicts another scorching Texas summer day where the humidity makes your clothes immediately stick to your skin. It’s nothing I’m not familiar with having grown up in Texas my whole life and then spending two tours in the desert before returning home. You’d think I would move somewhere cold, but the south is all I know. I certainly couldn’t leave Nana and Pawpaw either. After finishing my last tour, I came home and bought an empty house in disrepair and spent the better part of a year ripping it to studs and rebuilding. I was really struggling with returning to civvy life after spending the majority last ten years in the sand pit. Originally, I had just planned to fix up my house so that it was comfortable and hell, livable, until I discovered what I wanted to do outside of the army. Remodeling my house taught me that I really enjoyed working with my hands and building things. I guess you could say taking a broken, outdated home and making it beautiful and functional again really resonated with me on a deeper level. I was lucky to leave the army with only some mild PTSD and nightmares. Hell, I had all of my limbs and was alive which is more that I can say I deserve. Staying busy helped me cope so after working towards getting my contractor’s license, I decided to start my own company, Syverson Contracting. It was still a small operation with only about seven employees including my cousin Alex, but we got by just fine.

After getting ready for the day and sipping on my cup of coffee on the porch with my German Shepard, Aika, I put my boots on and headed to the truck for the first day on a new worksite. Like usual, I called Nana on the way to work to check in. My grandparents lived about fifteen minutes away from me, but I still called to check on them every morning and make sure they’re doing alright. As I drive, Nana starts chattering all about how her friend’s granddaughter is single and I should be looking for a good woman to marry and settle down with. We’ve had this conversation umpteen times before but I can’t seem to get it through my stubborn grandmother’s head that it’s useless. I’ve been burned by too many women in the past as a young and naïve man and I just don’t want to bring someone into all of my problems. Yes, I go to therapy at the VA to help with my PTSD but it still doesn’t stop the sleepless nights and nightmares that immediately send me back to wartime in the desert. As much as I’ve always wanted a partner in life; a beautiful wife to come home to, a couple of kids and the proverbial picket fence, I just don’t see how it could be in the cards for me now. I’m too fucked up. Nana of course would never understand and I certainly don’t want to drag her into it so I just listen to her drone on and on about some chick named Susanne and then tell her that I’ve got to go.

After speaking with my team and giving instructions for the job, I went to Alex’s flatbed truck and we all started unloading the materials. The home we were working on was owned by a young couple expecting their first child. It was a simple job, replacing the flooring throughout the house, building a shed in the backyard for lawnmowers and other garden tools, and repairing some dry rotting siding near the fireplace. The great thing about my team is that I could get them started and didn’t have to micromanage them. After several hours in the walloping sun, we all broke for lunch. After cooling off and reenergizing at the local Wendy’s, we all headed back to the house to continue our work. Since I was used to being in these weather conditions, I decided to head out toward the edge of the woods in the backyard and start building the garden shed. When I went to lift up some of the plywood, I was beyond shocked to find a shaking and filthy little tan dog who appeared to be injured and terrified.

“Shit. Heya buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s alright pal. Let me take a look atcha.”

As a true animal lover, I was immediately enraged. Someone had intentionally abused this poor defenseless animal and either abandoned it or it was able to limp off to the woods. The little male pup, couldn’t be older than a year was bleeding from four different wounds on the side of his sand colored body. The second I scooped him up, he was whining and cowering in fear.

“You’re alright little man. I’m gonna take care of ya. Let’s see if we can getcha to a vet.” I call Aika’s vet office and unfortunately there is no answer. Janet must still be taking her lunch break.

I see Alex walking outside to grab some of the flooring to bring inside and yell for him to come here.

“What’s up, Sy?”

“Just found this little guy beat to hell by the woods.”

“Jesus. What kind of bastards do that to an animal?” Alex ponders as he was looking at the injured and sick animal.

“I’m gonna see if Dr. Robinson’s in. Hopefully I can get the little feller in today but I need you to run the site until I get back.”

“No problem, Sy. Didn’t she just have another kid? I’m not sure if she’ll be there but I know Jessica said something about them hiring a new vet so I’m sure someone will be around.”

The veterinarian’s office was only a fifteen-minute drive from the site so after giving the poor thing some water, I loaded him up and drove there.

On the ride over, he seemed to relax a bit and not shake as bad as he had been and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Oh Austin! How good to see you! Did your Aika have an appointment?”

“Hey Ms. Janet, is Dr. Robinson in? It’s not for Aika. I found this guy by the woods and he’s been hurt something awful.”

“Heavens to Betsy! Poor little angel! Elizabeth is out on maternity leave but we’ve hired a new vet. You'll like her. Let me check with her and see if she can work you in.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A few moments later, Janet scurries back and directs me to an exam room with the little guy. I guess I could have just dropped him off and went back to work but my heart just couldn’t stand it. Hell, I fought to bring back Aika from Afghanistan because of how quickly I fell in love with her and she’s been the best dog ever. I can’t imagine leaving this little guy to potentially die from his injuries without a friendly face nearby.

*Knock Knock!*

The door opens and my heart stops at the same time. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen enters while carrying a clipboard and a stethoscope. She’s a petite little thing only reaching to my shoulders with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and crystal blue eyes that feel like they see straight to my soul.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Emma Miller. I hear you found this little guy in the woods?”

“Uh, yes ma’am. Hello there, I’m Austin Syverson. Yeah, I uh, I found him and he looks like he’s been abused.”

She smiles brightly and shakes my hand when I introduce myself and the moment I touch her soft skin, I can hardly think straight. Why the hell do I feel so jittery? It’s just a beautiful woman Sy. Get ahold of yourself. I tell her exactly what I found and she quickly starts examining him while speaking to him in a sweet voice.

“Hi sweet boy. You poor thing! I’m so sorry someone has been treating you so horribly. We’re going to take care of you, yes we are. You’re going to be good as new! I’m going to give you some fluids because you’re dehydrated little guy. Once we get some fluids in you, I’ll try giving you some food. How about that little man?”

I can’t help but smile as she baby talks to him while inserting an IV in his tiny arm and starting him on fluids. She examines the wounds more carefully before retrieving a pair of things that look like tweezers.

“If I had to guess, I would say this guy is about 10-12 months old. I suspect these wounds on his side are from a BB gun. Would you mind holding his head? I’m going to give him some pain relief in his IV to help him relax and then try and clean the area and see if I can remove them. We’re a bit short staffed at the moment with Dr. Robinson out and two of our techs calling in sick so I’ll need your help if that’s okay?”

“Fucking BB guns.” I murmur under my breath. Damn some people are just the worst.

“I’m happy to help.” I tell her quickly and take up residence next to the puppy’s head to hold him still.

“Thank you.” She replies quietly while concentrating on rubbing some brown cleaner across each wound.

I can’t help but watch her as she focuses on removing all four bb’s and placing them into a metal bowl. She’s so effortlessly beautiful and incredibly adorable as she works on the dog who seems to be feeling so much better with the medication and fluids that he has received. She sews up each wound quickly and efficiently. The pup seems to be almost as captivated by her as I am. When she’s done, he even attempts to wag his tail for her. Dr. Miller explains that he will need a flea and tick bath before she can dress the wounds because he has several fleas on him and she doesn’t want them getting into the incisions.

“Mr. Syverson, I hate to keep you from your day. Would you want to just come back for him in a little while? I have to do an exam on a yorkie with diabetes but then I’ll bathe him on my break and get his wounds dressed.”

“Sugar?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, pardon?” She responds a bit flustered.

I smirk as I see the blush tinting her cheeks. “The yorkie. Is it named Sugar?”

“Oh! Yes! Someone you know?”

“My grandma’s neighbor, Mrs. Clayton, has a yappy little yorkie named Sugar and I believe I overheard that it has diabetes.”

“Yes, well that would be her.” She smirks back.

“I don’t mind waiting with the little guy. Is it alright if I stay and help you bathe him? Since your short staffed and all?” I ask with my most charming smile.

Her beaming grin tells me all I need to know. “Sure, Mr. Syverson. Can you give me about twenty minutes?”

“Only if you’ll call me Austin or Sy. Mr. Syverson is my pawpaw.” I say with a grin.

“Alright Austin. I’m going to leave you with some wet food on the table for this little fellow, but can I trust you to only give him small amounts slowly? We don’t know when his last meal was so we don’t want to overwhelm his belly.”

“Yes ma’am.” I mock salute at her with two fingers and she giggles when she leaves the exam room. I swear the moment she did I was a goner. I need to find a way to hear that giggle more.

“Well little guy, it looks as though we are helping each other out, huh? You ain’t the only one broken and battered.” I say as I give the dog a small plastic spoonful of wet dog food that he almost swallows hole.

“What should I call you?” I hypothesize aloud while the pup continues eating sloppily from the spoon I’m holding.

“Since Dr. Miller here patched you up, how about Miller? We can call you Mills for short. What do you think about that? I like it.”

Emma finally returns to the exam room and is happy to see that the Mills has eaten the food I gave him and kept it all down. Due to the food, medications, and fluids he received you can already tell a slight difference in his demeanor.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, shall we?” She says while carefully picking him up and carrying him to the back of the building before pausing. “You coming, Austin?” She asks.

God, I hope I will be soon. I think before I rush over to open the exam door for her and follow her to the back.

“You know, I’m breaking rules by letting you back here so don’t make me regret it.” She says to me teasingly as she carefully sets Mills into a large stainless-steel sink and begins to bathe him with medicated shampoo.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Dr. Miller.”

“No, if I have to call you Austin, you have to call me Emma. It’s only fair.”

“Well, Emma is a beautiful name so that will be easy. If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from? We haven’t had a new vet in town since Dr. Robinson came and that was probably ten years ago.” I watch as Emma carefully removes three ticks from his fur and want to outwardly cringe. Ticks are the devil’s bug.

“I’m from Alabama. I’ve only been in Texas for about a month but just started working in the office this last week.” She tells me as she very carefully continues to clean Mills.

“What brought you all the way out here? Did your husband get transferred out here or something?”

She side eyes my question with a smirk. “Nope, just the job. No husband or kids. No boyfriend either in case that was your next question.” She remarks sarcastically.

My stomach flips with excitement even though she caught on to what I was really fishing for.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you’re here. For Mills’ health needs of course.” I add quickly while gesturing to the pup.

“Mills?”

“Yup. Short for Miller, after the doctor who’s taking care of him.”

Her cheeks blush bright red as she runs a flea comb gently through his fur. “Well aren’t you just the charmer. I’m surprised Janet didn’t warn me about you. She’s been clueing me in on pretty much the entire town.”

“Ah, good ole’ Janet. She knows there’s no need to warn you about me. She’s known me since I was in diapers so that should tell you enough about my character if she didn’t warn you off.”

“That’s good to know. So, are you planning on keeping little Mills? Or are you wanting us to adopt him out once he’s all healed?”

“Oh, I plan on keeping him if that’s alright. As long as my girl, Aika, is okay with it I’ll keep him. Can’t imagine sending him off to a stranger after what he’s already been through.”

“Well, if your girlfriend isn’t on board with keeping him just let us know and we can see about arranging a foster for him until he’s able to be put up for adoption.” She says while stepping a little further away from me.

Girlfriend? Oh dumbass, you made her think Aika is your girlfriend.

“Aika’s my German Shepard. I don’t have a wife, kids, or a girlfriend either.” I said poking fun at her sarcastic comment from earlier.

Emma grins but just continues to rinse Mills off. She notices that one of his paws looks a bit swollen but she can’t find any cuts or wounds so she thinks it may just be bruised from trying to run from his abuser.

Once we get him dried off, I hold his head again for her to clean and dress the wounds on his side and I’m dreading leaving.

“So, I’ll need to see little Mills in 3 days to check his wounds and remove the stitches. I need you to clean and redress the wounds one time a day like I’ve shown you. I’ve got his medication and antibiotics here and a couple of cans of that wet food that you fed him earlier. I recommend continuing to feed it to him slowly so that his tummy doesn’t get upset. Nobody likes waking up to a dog throwing up or having diarrhea in the house. If he does okay with that food we can discuss increasing his food intake at the next appointment. Do you have any questions, Austin?”

“Just one. Can I get your number, Emma? You know, in case I have questions about your prodigy, Little Mills, here.” I add with a smirk.

“I’m sure you have the number for the vet’s office.” She smirks.

“That I do, but I’d like yours as well, please.” I ask with my most convincing smile.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t advertise it. The last thing I need is people like Mrs. Clayton calling me after hours.” She concedes with a giggle and I can’t help my boisterous laughter at the last part.

“Nobody wants someone like Mrs. Clayton calling them all the time. That woman would talk to a wall just to hear her own voice.” I hand her my phone and she quickly types her number and I save it under “Mills’ Future Mama” and smirk to myself.

I pay and make the next appointment for Mills and then head to the local pet store for a collar, leash, dog bed, and more dog food. Luckily, Mills sleeps on the ride home and I can’t decide if he’s finally realized I’m not going to hurt him or if he’s still drowsy from the effects of the meds he received. I head home and send Alex an update that I’ll be back at the site tomorrow.

When I get home, I bring everything inside before carrying Mills over to Aika and carefully introducing him. After the initial excitement wears off, Aika heads outside to the backyard and I’m relieved that she seems to accept him. She’s always been such a good dog so hopefully I can rely on her to show our little rookie around and teach him our routines.

I go about showering and eating dinner, but I can’t seem to get my mind off Emma. I obviously want to play it cool but she has infiltrated my mind to the point where I just can’t think of anything else. I know this is a bad idea but I can't stop myself. I decide to take a picture of Mills in his little bed and text it to her.

Sy: <attached image>

Mills’ Future Mama: I’m glad to see my namesake is adjusting to his new life. I take it that his sibling accepts him?

Mills’ Future Mama: Also, you’re lucky I opened that picture text. Typically receiving a picture from an unknown number is never a good thing 😖

Sy: Sounds like your mind is in the gutter or you have some seriously unhinged acquaintances, darlin. Aika has accepted him into the pack without hesitation.

Mills’ Future Mama: More like, men are nasty and will take any opportunity to send an unsolicited dick pic to even the most unwilling recipients. Glad you found the little guy. He seems right at home.

Sy: He is. You should come visit him sometime.

Mills’ Future Mama: Why would I do that when he’ll be in my office in three days?

Sy: Maybe to see his owner?

Mills’ Future Mama: I’d imagine his daddy will be the one bringing him back to my office though?

Sy: Alright then, how about I make you some dinner at my place? Say tomorrow at 5pm?

Mills’ Future Mama: Make it 5:30 and I’ll be there. Just know I’ll be sending your information to my best friend in case you try and murder me.

Sy: What type of people were you surrounded by in Alabama? 🤨

Mills’ Future Mama: I was actually in a super safe town. Just watch too many crime shows to make careless mistakes.

Sy: Smart lady. You can tell whoever you want, darlin’. I’ve got nothing to hide and I appreciate a woman who has some self-preservation skills.

Mills’ Future Mama: Trust me, I’m very skilled at many things. 😜

Sy: Damn woman, I’m trying my best to be a gentleman here. It’s not fair to tease me.

Mills’ Future Mama: Not teasing. Just stating facts. 🙃

Sy: Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough. Here’s my address. Any food allergies?

Mills’ Future Mama: Nope! I’ll bring dessert. I’m interested to test your cooking prowess.

Sy: You’re killing me.

Mills’ Future Mama: See you tomorrow!

Part 2

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal

#captain syverson fanfiction #captain sy #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #captain syverson #captain syverson fluff #syverson #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #sand castle #henry cavill

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wantonlywindswept · 25 days

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adopted baby Guard Din idea that I am never going to write

because it would involve logistics and quiet moments and idle life which I am very down for reading but cannot for the LIFE of me actually sit down and write

So the war ends, Palps is outed as a Sith and an asshole and dies somehow, and the Senate eventually decides that the clones do count as people and thus are allowed to leave the GAR if they want. Give the bureaucrats another few years and they might even give out backpay and citizenship, so long as you stay in the service--wait what do you mean the entire Guard is resigning. What do you mean they've already left orbit?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE NOW MILLIONS OF FILES ON THE HOLONET ABOUT THE SENATE'S SHADY DEALINGS???

Guard, collectively: lol cya suckers

Fox is of course one of the last ones out, and since this was all planned on the down low, everyone's been split into groups so they can take commercial flights, since they're not about to be accused of stealing ships. (They also leave their weapons and their armor behind, in a giant macabre pile in the middle of Corrie HQ. Even their helmets, their faces, they discard: it's time for a rebirth.)

He and Thorn and a few other Corries have a stopover on some tiny station, waiting a week for a delayed transport to arrive, and in the meantime they're approached by some locals who just fled the planet below. Separatist remnants attacked their homes, forcing them to leave everything and everyone behind; can the big strong clones do anything about it?

The Big Strong Clones: Oh shit we finally get to kick some Seppie ass? Sign us the FUCK up.

The eager group does not include Fox, who could not care less about the Separatists and would very much like to finally catch up on his sleep. Unfortunately that means that the group that goes down to the planet is Unsupervised.

(Thorn does not count as supervision. Thorn, bereft of Senate oversight, has finally allowed his Inner Chaos Gremlin to fully emerge. Thorn needs more supervision than the shinies.)

Thorn, three days later, waking Fox from half-hearted sleep by dropping an entire natborn child on him: Hey boss, look what we found! None of the refugees claimed him, so we called dibs. Can we keep him? Fox, staring at the child: ...

Din, staring back: ...

Fox: ...no..?

Din: *sad but understanding big brown eyes*

Fox: Nevermind this is my child now.

Din has gone from two parents to one parent and hundreds of overprotective brothers.

Eventually his group makes it to their destination, Din in tow. I am uncertain of what the destination is but it is a planet that is as far away from Coruscant that the Corries could find. I am tempted for Tatooine not because I like Tatooine (I share Anakin's loathing of sand and deserts) but because Luke's description of Tatooine in ANH was 'if there's a bright center to the universe, this is the planet the furthest from'.

Corries, hearing that: Fuck it sounds perfect.

Anyway they make it to Tatooine, there is probably purchasing of some shitty land/buildings that nobody wants out in the wastes bc crime, scum, villainy, etc, but it's not like they have problems taking care of anything that tries to mess with them.

Where did they get the funds?

Shh don't ask about it.

Stone takes up moisture farming. Thire takes up farming-farming. Thorn shoots gleefully at anything that shows up unannounced within a ten-mile radius. Literally everybody dotes on Din. There are a surprising amount of peaceful days.

Eventually some dumb shiny goes: Hey don't kids need friends? Shouldn't we set up some playdates for him or something?

The shiny is not called dumb for asking the question, but they are called dumb for thinking that the question would only ever be taken rhetorically. Fox disappears for two weeks and then comes back with a black eye and a yowling hissing Boba tucked under one arm, looking stupidly pleased with himself.

(Boba is also pleased to be back with people he knows will keep him safe. Boba will not admit to this under threat of death or dismemberment. Boba is a SERIOUS SCARY ADULT BOUNTY HUNTER.)

Boba also decides he will be Mortal Enemies with Din, which after about ten minutes of meeting him morphs into If Anyone Hurts Din I Will Kill Everyone In This Room And Then Myself because all clones be the same, really.

Din has gained another brother/bestie. (Or potential future boyfriend, whichever floats your boat.)

Somehow they still end up overthrowing the Hutts.

Officially the GAR knew and knows nothing about the Guard leaving Coruscant as soon as the metaphorical paint was dry on their sentient status.

Unofficially Fox's batch harangues him every single day for photos of his new kid(s). They eventually show up unannounced, demanding time with their nephew. (They are shot at by Thorn.)

Din gains five new uncles.

The batch proudly show pics and holos to their battalions. Din gains millions of new uncles.

Fox finally gets a full night's sleep.

#tcw #tcw fanfiction #commander fox #din djarin #coruscant guard #someone else should write that #tho tbh it's mostly written here just in rambling infodump form #btw this is half-inspired bc red is both baby din and fox's color #din is nonverbal for a little while because Trauma #and gets nicknamed 'Kit'#Fox refuses to be pleased about this #Fox is extremely smugly pleased about this

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twyftwyt · 6 months

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part 2 to this little imagine that I posted earlier today (since you guys seemed to like it very much)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (a little at the end), angst

Authors note: so this started as a little imagine I wrote in my drafts a few days ago and I got so many positive comments to expand it, so you know, i gotta give it you, it’s only fair; let me know if you’d like me to continue this story as I have quite a few ideas for it

…you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand

and i have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand…

By the time we reached my house my tears had dried and I’d calmed myself down as much as I could. Noah stayed silent the whole drive home and it crushed me a little that he didn’t fight back on what I said earlier. Silence was agreement, in my eyes. And he seemed to be on the same page with what I said.

He parked the car in front of my house and turned off the engine. The low hum coming from the speakers fell silent and the air felt even thicker now. Neither one of us knew what to say or do next and I didn’t want to leave like that. But I wasn’t going to be the first to speak either. I was too scared to look at him, as well. I knew that the moment I looked at him, I’d cave and try to hug him. Or say something to make this whole situation better. But the truth was that it was better left this way. We needed time. I needed time.

“Can I walk you to the front door?”

I wanted to say “yes”, believe me, I did. But it was not gonna be like the usual times, where he’d walk me to the door, kiss and hug me, sometimes even try to come in, and I’d let him. I knew this time was gonna be tough and heavy. And so I decided to politely decline.

“I can walk myself to my house, Noah. It’s fine.”

I knew that came out a bit harsher than I wanted it to be, but I didn’t have the capacity to be nicer. I was hurting and I had all the right reasons for my emotional state right now. My eyes were red and puffy, my lips - swollen, my heart felt heavy in my chest.

“Don’t be this way, please. It is shit enough as it is. Just let me walk you.”

“Why? You can wait in the car until I close the door”

“Get out of my car then.”

I didn’t expect that kind of an answer and so I finally looked up at him. Same blank expression, right hand firm on the steering wheel. Did he really just tell me to get out of his car?!

“You know, I wanted to be nice to you. End this night on a more positive note. But since I see you’ve managed to bring your attitude with your goodnight’s, have it your way. Asshole.”

My tears were bubbling up again and I didn’t wait long enough for him to see them streaming down my face. I took my keys in my hand and got off the passenger seat, slamming the door. By the time I reached the patio my vision was blurry and my hands were shaking. I managed to put the key in the hole and didn’t look twice before slamming the door to my house as well. He could go to hell for all I care about.

I can’t properly remember how I managed to take a shower and tidy up my room before I got into bed, all I knew was almost six months of building something with someone just went to shit. And I should’ve known from the start. I should’ve seen the signs, I should’ve taken my friends’ advices when they told me numerous times to not deal with a man like him. I should’ve listened. I should’ve left when he said he doesn’t know what a healthy relationship feels and looks like. I should’ve left when he stayed silent for all of our arguments. I should’ve left when he said he wasn’t ready. But of course, I’ve always been known to go against my instincts. Like I did the first time I met him.

I got invited to a friend of a friend’s party at the Hollywood Hills, a place I wasn’t very fond of and up until the last moment, I decided not to attend. And if you ask me now, why I changed my mind all of a sudden, I won’t be able to come up with and adequate answer. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain everything that happened that night.

It was a nice pool house, looking over the hills, all white and minimalistic and the music was booming all around. There were people everywhere and liquor, lots and lots of liquor. I wasn’t used to going to parties. At least not anymore. I preferred having my peace of mind at home, with a movie or working on something. And so when I arrived at said party, I wished I could teleport anywhere but here. That’s up until I met him. Noah.

Noah, Noah, Noah.

The first time I laid my eyes on him he was leaning against a wall, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a phone in the other. I found it amusing that he was wearing sunglasses inside but I kinda understood why. I’d wear a pair too if it made me look less approachable. He was looking at the screen of his phone, scrolling away his life. He was wearing all black. Black “The Witch” shirt that immediately caught my attention. Black sweats and what looked like skull slides with white socks. In all honesty, he looked ridiculous for a party. I must have stared at him for too long, cause he picked his head up from his phone and looked my way. I quickly moved my glance from him and focused on a girl trying to get into the pool, but soon enough I felt the air move around me and the smell of a strong perfume enveloped me.

“That’s a cute pajama.”

I tuned to face the man who called my boho pants “pajama”, ready to call him out, but quickly froze when I was met with the piercing eyes of the man I had just spent 10 minutes staring at.

“And that’s a bold first thing to say to anyone.”

“Not as bold as your fashion statement.”

Cheeky.

“Says the man wearing skull slides and sunglasses indoors.”

He laughed at me and raised his beer up to my face.

“Cheers to that.”

We locked eyes and I felt my knees getting weak.

I checked my phone one last time before I put it on DND and placed on my nightstand. I don’t know why I was expecting a text from him, some sort of explanation, reassurance that everything’s gonna be fine and this was just a stupid spat. I don’t know why I wanted to believe this is not over. I don’t know how I managed to trust him so fast and to get hurt just as fast. I grabbed my phone one last time to check for messages again and my heart sunk once the screen lit up.

“I’ve been sitting in front of your house for almost 2 hours now, trying to figure out what the hell just happened between us. All I know is, I don’t wanna go home tonight. Not like this. I need you.”

The speed at which I went for the stairs almost got me killed. The moment I opened my front door and saw him leaning on the hood of his car made my knees go weak the same way it did when I first saw him. Our eyes locked and I could swear that by the time he reached my patio, he was basically running. His body slammed so hard into mine that it made me trip over my legs and almost knocked me over. His hands were around my waist, his wet lips all over my face and I could feel his dick pressed against my belly.

“Noah..”

Was all I managed to moan in his mouth, while digging my fingers in his hair.

“Let me..” he looked me up and down hungrily and gripped my ass “..inside.”

I was done for.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #fic

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zeb-z · 8 months

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when Bad asks Foolish and Baghera “yknow what you do when you’re upset?” and Foolish quietly goes “go out into a desert?” he shot me dead in my home.

Foolish, who spent all his time in the dsmp out in the desert building on his own, never really appreciated. who’s only community builds were never really used - a massive fuck off mansion for Tubbo and Ranboo in Snowchester they never moved into, Kinoko Kingdom which got more appreciation by Quackity, who hated it, than any of the meant to be residents, and the Among Us bunker that never saw the light of day. who’s only friends ended up executing him at a banquet, and the other blackmailing him into joining his city. but it didn’t truly matter - he had the desert to return to, and another massive project to build, even if it was just him around to appreciate it.

the desert was as beautiful as it was dangerous. it was not friendly, and it was not kind, but it was where he built his life. it was where he retreated to when everything else was shit.

and then, however many years later, he finds companionship in the qsmp. people love his builds, use his builds - but appreciate him for more than that. he sticks close instead of moving thousands of blocks away. he falls in love with Vegetta, then he takes care of his daughter. his beloved Leo. he learns another language so she doesn’t have to struggle with his, and they teach each other as they talk. he gets her everything she asks for even if he rolls his eyes and teases her for being spoiled, because he loves her, because he’d move heaven and earth for her. he tells her that she’s good, and that she’s shown him that there’s more to life than just being alone and building all the time.

and then Leo’s gone. and when the panic has settled and the realization that he can’t do anything hits, he goes and works on the titan. he builds and tries not to cry. for a short time, he goes and takes people exploring since they’re also online, and he tasks himself with distracting them to cheer them up (with the bonus of taking out his aggravation on monsters), and he can’t be upset if he’s with company. but lately they haven’t been around, and he’s mostly alone again - so he goes back to building. returning to hours and hours on his own, making more headway in a few days than he has in a month on his build.

he retreats to the desert. where he’s alone, where there’s nothing but him and the sand and his builds, where there’s nothing else in the world, because the rest of the world is unbearable.

#idk just the. when I’m upset I go to a desert. his whole time in dsmp was spent in a desert. go fuck yourself foolish gamers I can’t take it #his world is his little family and well. vegetta is gone. Leo is gone. him and Roier are on shaky terms right now tbh. what’s a man to do #also something about the revert into a more ruthless version of himself. the desert wasn’t friendly and he wasn’t either #he used to be feared. a killer. a god. a great builder who could burn villages to the ground. he’s been taking his aggression out in dungeon #but like he’s promised awful things if leo truly dies. so #when bad and foolish mention their ‘distant past’ in the dsmp 4731 dead 38294 injured #mcyt #qsmp #foolish gamers #q!foolish #c!foolish #character analysis #z speaks

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peskycorvid · 4 months

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Building off of a post I saw on here (I don't remember which one) about how everyone is human except the life series winners, who retain hybrid traits from their win/series. Except I make it only about desert duo because I'm insane about them

Grian spending 3rd life with lightweight bones that are more fragile than he's used to. Time is short, and he doesn't get to learn how to fly. He doesn't learn how to properly care for his wings either. He spends his time with itchy wings, trapped on the ground, and when he wins by force, he falls. He falls, at his one chance to learn, and it's by choice. Birds get pushed out of the nest to learn to fly, but he refuses. Yet when he wakes up back on Hermitcraft, he still has those wings, and he can never forget what he did. The blood that stains his feathers, the creaking in his knuckles.

Scar doesn't ever know how to truly help Grian. Grian's forever changed, down to his very code, and it's bigger than their shared experience. So he does what he can to try to help. He learns with Grian, accomodates him, is extra patient when sand gets in his wings and he spirals all over again.

More games happen. More people change. It's different for them, Scar isn't as close with them. They don't live on Hermitcraft, so he can't see the difference. Except Pearl, who handles it so differently and yet so similar to Grian.

Scar tries to comfort her too. She isn't around much, and he learns why on the first full moon back when he stumbles on a wolf cloaked in red, hiding away in his home. How she got in, he'll never know. But that doesn't matter.

They get closer after this. They already were, but even moreso when he's able to listen. When she maybe doesn't talk, doesn't say it all out loud. But he listens all the same.

Then secret life happens. And Scar comes back different.

Nobody really understood what he was, not at first. But when everyone comes back, he stays behind. He's gone for days, weeks, months. And Pearl and Grian wait. All of Hermitcraft waits.

And Scar returns, and they can finally see what he was changed to as well.

A man of stone, literally. A gargoyle, wings cracked and shattered and left behind when he finally, finally made it back home. He's colder, and more quiet. The solitude has changed him.

Slowly, the three learn how to help Scar together. They learn, however odd it may be at first, how to care for his stone skin. They take care to not startle him, lest he freeze up completely until he can calm down once again. And slowly they heal together. The cracks are still there, but they mend them as best as they can.

Grian still can't handle the sand in his feathers, but he learns to fly. He and Pearl race together, and on full moons they chase each other under the moonlight. Scar can't quite keep up with them anymore, but they never stray far, and they always include him. He becomes their finish line, and Grian's perch. Pearl uses him for shade, and they decorate him with flowers whenever he dozes in the sun. They all still have their moments, their fears, and they fear what might happen in the next game. Who's next? When will they be swept away again? But they have each other now, when the others might not understand. They have each other. And if one of their friends is next, they'll be there to listen and learn.

#desert duo #3rd life #grian #goodtimeswithscar #secret life smp #pearlescentmoon #idk if they have a trio name but they mean everything to me #boatem #boatem is one big qpr i will die on this hill

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fungifanart · 2 months

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Deserted

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, male reader, yuu!reader

CW: Heavy angst/whump, slight suicidal ideation

Word count: 1K

Notes: Did you guys know that Leona is my favorite character? (Also, @oleilaa got mad at me when I didn't tag them in my last Leona-related fic)

-------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, Leona knew that this is how it would all end for him.

Trudging alone across a barren desert, the hot sand slowly burning the bottoms of his bare feet beyond repair, his once proud and well-maintained mane now a rat's nest caked with more sand.

He turns his dry eyes up towards the horizon, hoping to see even a mirage of an oasis just to revel in the illusion of hope, but his mind won't even grant him that much. So he lowers his gaze back to the ground, he doesn't have a destination in mind anyway.

Should he go back to his home? What home? His "home" is nothing more than a large building full of people who hate him and reminders of all of his failures and shortcomings. In that sense, his home is just one big prison.

And he'd rather die than go back there.

So he keeps walking. In no definite direction. All while his hunger and thirst eat away at his insides and the harsh sunlight beats down on him from above.

This must be punishment for the Spelldrive tournament. The karma for his scheming, sabotage and lashing out has finally caught up. And it's going to be the death of him.

After what feels like hours of painful walking with no end in sight, Leona's legs finally give out. Leaving him no other option but to use his hands to drag himself across the sand on his stomach.

This is unequivocally the lowest Leona's ever felt: Aimlessly dragging himself across a desert he feels no greater than a grain of sand in.

However, just as Leona's arms are beginning to give out as well, he hears the sound of light footsteps approaching and looks up to see a familiar-looking face crouching down in front of him and extending a helping hand. Though, his eyes are too dry and tired to recognize who it is.

A few seconds of blinking later, his eyes finally adjust enough to fully make out the person's face, recognizing him as the prefect of Ramshackle dorm who's smiling like nothing is wrong as he holds out his hand.

Leona's eyes go unfocused again as he questions how he came to be here and, more importantly, why he's reaching out to him now.

Why is the Prefect reaching out to Leona: The man who put him through so much, almost taking his life in the process, and used him as a simple pawn on a chessboard before leaving him by the wayside?

Does he...really forgive him despite everything?

One more look at the Prefect's comforting smile and still outstretched hand gives him his answer: The sun positioned perfectly behind the other man's head to create a halo around it, giving him the look of a saint.

And that's what he is to Leona.

A saint.

A savior.

An angel.

His angel.

Leona finally musters the strength to reach out and take the Prefect’s hand...only for cracks in his skin and the color of sand to quickly spread all over the Prefect’s body, starting from where Leona had taken his hand.

Leona frantically lets go of the Prefect, but it's already too late. In the Prefect’s place stands a sand sculpture of him, still holding out its hand with a no longer comforting smile, which then crumbles into another pile of sand, indistinguishable from the rest surrounding him.

His body forces out whatever water it has left in the form of tears as the realization hits him.

He was a fool to have hope.

This is who he is.

Destroying things, reducing them to sand no matter what or who they are, is all that he's good for.

Who's to say that this entire desert isn't his handiwork as well?

His despairing cries echo over the area as the wind picks up, sweeping up the Prefect’s remains into a sandstorm that swirls around him almost mockingly.

Leona's body curls itself into a ball as his cries continue, growing more labored as sand invades his mouth and throat, drying them out and causing him to cough more than cry, wishing that his signature spell worked on himself as well.

The wind howls in his ears as this happens and he swears he can almost make out the sound of malicious laughter at such a pitiful display.

This new torture goes on for what may well be hours or even days for all Leona knows. He has to keep his eyes closed to shield from the sand and the sandstorm is blocking his view of the sun regardless.

This is truly his personal hell.

However, an unknown amount of time later, the laughter dies down before completely disappearing, taking the sandstorm with it with what sounds like a defeated sigh.

Leona opens his eyes, blinking the sand out of them as a more grounded set of footsteps than before approaches and he feels a hand take his and lift him up onto his feet, which suddenly feel normal again. In fact, everything about him feels normal again!

Looking at his savior, Leona is shocked to see the Prefect once again. However, his face bears much more mixed emotions than before, the forefront of which being...pity.

"I can't stay mad at you." He says with a sigh while turning away, "So I'm giving you one chance to wake up and get out of my sight."

Leona doesn't move or say anything, still too surprised over this development to even attempt waking up from this apparent dream.

A few seconds pass and the Prefect looks back at him with an incredibly frustrated expression, "Didn’t you hear me?!" He says before winding up to slap him.

"WAKE UP!!!"

The moment the Prefect’s hand connects with Leona's face is when he jolts awake, sitting up in his bed in Savannaclaw, with the only remnants of what he'd experienced being a dry feeling in his throat and a dull pain on his cheek.

#why is this mushroom writing fanfics?#twisted wonderland #twst leona #twst #leona kingscholar #twst mc #twst yuu #angst #heavy angst #tw sui ideation #twst x reader #twst x male reader #leona x reader

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novasintheroom · 4 months

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048. Sunset

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.8k

♡ Warnings - mention of having future children? Very brief.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

It’s been a slow traveling day. Not enough double dollars between the two of you to rent a tomas, so you’re left with the two feet you’re born with to get you to the next city.

The worst of the heat is over; the suns are dipping toward the horizon. Here, on one of the numberless sand dunes on No Man’s Land do you stop for a break, a drink of water. And here, while Vash puts the water away and hands you a pack of nuts for snacking, do you stare with a fond longing at a farm.

“When we get old,” you say, because there’s always going to be a ‘we’ with you two; to be together ‘til the stars burn out, “we should get a house like that.” You turn to him with a glint in your eye. “One with a wraparound porch. Lots of space.”

Vash straightens slowly from his sack and looks off at the distant farmhouse, with its small greenhouse domes and tracts of brushed sand. The suns are setting to the west. Everything is bathed in amber, and he squints against the shine of reflecting light through his glasses. It’s small, as far as farms go. Most are these days. With Plants growing healthier and technology being leaked slowly from Home, farms don’t have to settle as close to cities to survive. A sand tractor kicks up dust in the distance, the farmer prepping the ground for hardy plant life meant for deserts.

He feels a smile grow on his lips. A brow raising slowly, he gives you a playful look. “You want to sweep all the sand off the deck all day? ‘Cause that’s what will happen if we get that porch.” He hefts his pack on his shoulder and starts walking again. He knows you’ll follow.

And you do, feet steady on the sand. “Ah, you’re right,” you open the bag of nuts and pop a few in your mouth, savoring the one cranberry in the bunch, “But wouldn’t it be nice to watch the sunrise and sunset after a long day? Just sitting in some rocking chairs. Or one of those hanging benches!”

Vash hums, looking at the farmhouse again. “We could hang up some string lights around it. Have a little space off to the side for a firepit. Roast marshmallows and eat s’mores.”

You grin. “We’d have to have a workshop somewhere, for your arm and whatever else you want to build.”

He glances over his shoulder and gives you that charming smile. “I could build you some bookcases. Have our own library inside somewhere.”

“We’d need one with all the journals we have between us.”

Vash laughs in agreement, then pauses at the crux of the dune. The tractor moves along. He looks at the farmhouse now as if it is your own. “We’d have a master bedroom, and at least three guest bedrooms. For when friends come by for a visit.” He points. "Right there."

You stand by his side. Brushing his hand, you smile at him when he looks down. “There’d be lots of them. We might even have to add a second wing, especially when holidays roll around. Maybe some of them would move in for a bit, then they’d go off to start their own businesses, or their own families.”

“Now it’s starting to sound more like a bed and breakfast place. Or a hotel.”

“Or our own farm! With hired hands that can work the land with us, learn how to care for the Plant we get.”

He gives you a look. “You wouldn’t mind all the people?”

You purse your lips, then shake your head. “I know people’s more your thing, but I think they’d become like family eventually.” You give him a wink and bump his arm with your shoulder. “I’d do it for you.”

And a breath leaves in a slow rush from his lips. He's overcome. You’re golden in the sunset’s light. Beautiful. The perfect match for him. Vash often wonders, if there is a God, if He looked down on his pitiful state and said, ‘Alright, just this once,’ when he sent you. “Maybe…” he swallows and voices the imperfect little hope he has that can never be true, “…we’d have some room for the kids, too.” He looks down shyly, and is grateful for the hood of his coat obscuring his sight a bit.

Your smile only grows, and you hold his hand, leaning into his arm. “…Maybe.” You grin when his ears go red.

A solemn, bittersweet feeling overcomes him, even as he brings you close to hold you. He knows this is all wishful thinking. Two lovers hoping for a better, calmer future together. Something to get you both through the next day. There's a Plant to the east calling out, and he needs to answer it. But he still hopes, staring at that distant farmhouse, that it could come true someday. Somehow, someway, you’d both settle down. Have your own place. Your own family.

He sees a lone figure come out of the house, followed by a smaller one – a child – and his breath leaves him.

You both watch the waning sunset over the house and hope for a brighter tomorrow to find you soon.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #writing #reader insert #self insert #vash x reader #nova writes #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader

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fruitsoxs · 11 months

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Hello different anon here to request one of my favorite things: reverse jealousy. How would the two lads feel about the reader feeling jealous over them?

sorry this took so long to do!! I made it a bit longer to make up for it <3

pairings: vash x reader , wolfwood x reader

warnings: once again there's some angst, insecurity, self doubt, swearing, wolfwood has some feelings, reader is a bit of a dumb ass in vash's part haha

notes: i kinda went off with this?? it didn't go where I thought it would that's for sure haha.

Vash

There’s a small fire that builds up inside of you every time this person touches Vash. It’s an anger you can’t really describe. It has you feeling jittery and useless. They aren’t being forceful with him, and he seems okay with the soft touches. That just makes you more uncomfortable as you walk behind the two of them.

They’re probably just thankful. Vash did just save their life. Anybody would be thankful if a handsome stranger ran in and ripped you away from a bunch of bandits. Especially on a planet like Gunsmoke, where everybody is only worried about themselves. There aren’t very many selfless heroes like Vash, so when they come around you tend to be thankful.

But there’s something about the way their hand lingers on his arm after they stumble closer to him. Or how they keep interrupting you, making it feel like you can’t talk. They seem to be pushing you into the background as you walk across the desert planet towards the nearest town. Despite there being enough room for you to join the two side by side, you feel like your place is behind them.

Glaring at both of their backs with, you clench your fists lightly. The town is close enough, you can see the buildings in the distance. Soon this person will be back home, and they’ll be just a minor detail in Vash’s adventure. While you’ll be by his side, helping him the entire way. That thought should help you feel better. It should help calm your nerves.

But then, their fingers reach out towards his hand, and you feel the fire build up again.

Jealousy rears its ugly head.

The worst part? You aren’t angry that they’re flirting with him. You’re angry that you can’t be this bold. You have been traveling with him for months now. You’ve become one of his closest friends. He trusts you. He cares for you. He has proven that he will do anything to keep you safe. And yet, you can’t even find the courage to hold his hand. This stranger, who’s known him for a few hours at most, is doing something you have always wished you could do.

RIght before their fingers touch Vash’s metal ones you clear your throat. Vash turns to you with a smile. He arches an eyebrow, probably able to read your bad mood. “You okay back there?” he asks softly. The stranger retracks their hand and looks at you too.

“Uh yeah. I was just wondering how you ended up out here anyway.” You mumble. Embarrassed, you try to find a conversation starter that makes you look less stupid. The person shrugs and looks ahead again. “Sometimes I come out here to find spare parts. You’d be surprised how much useful junk is just laying around in the sand.” They explain looking up at Vash.

Vash nods. “Yeah that makes sense. Sorry you got caught up with those guys. They didn’t hurt you did they?” he asks, looking the person over. “Maybe a few bruises, but I’m tough. You managed to save me just in time!” They exclaim. Vash rubs the back of his neck, blushing a bit. “We couldn’t just leave you out there!”

‘I could.’ you think for a second, before guilt floods your senses. Why are you acting like this?

You pause for a second, and watch the two continue to walk. They don’t even notice that you’ve stopped walking. The stranger says something that makes Vash laugh, his cheeks turning red. They step a bit closer to Vash, and he doesn’t seem to mind. This is too much for you.

You continue walking, a few steps behind them now. Your head hands low, and your heart drops.

As the three of you walk towards the town, the suns start to drop. The air gets a bit cooler, and the world goes eerily quiet. The town is already empty, except for a few drunken wanderers who stumble through the streets. There’s probably a bar or tavern somewhere that’s filled with idiots drinking and singing.

The stranger leads the two of you up to their doorstep. They turn around and face Vash. “This is me.” they smile softly, their eyes only on your blonde companion. “Glad you got home safe.” Vash responds, a sense of relief in his eyes. “Thanks for making sure I’m okay. I owe you.” They whisper, and you know they aren’t talking to you. “It’s really no problem. It’s what I- It’s what we do.” It’s sweet how he tries to include you even when you’re clearly not wanted.

The person smiles, and leans in close to him for a second. They pull him down to their level and press their lips against his cheep. Your blood freezes, and you look away.

“Stop by the next time you’re in town. Okay?” They mumble before leaving you and Vash standing there. Vash is a bit awestruck, his face a bright red. You feel like you might punch the next person who walks by, or break down and cry, Whatever comes first. The situation has left you completely and utterly upset. Every fiber of your being wants to run off into the night time and scream.

Instead you just stand there with your jaw clenched tightly.

“They were really nice…” Vash points out turning to you with a smile. You find yourself scoffing. “Yeah to you.” you point out and begin to walk away. Vash follows you closely, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, and you feel a little bad. He looks like a little puppy who’s just been yelled at.

“I mean they clearly were happy that you specifically saved them. You know?” You mumble, a bit softer now. He stops and looks back, a bi of confusion woven into his features. “What?” he asks, looking at you again. “They liked you, Vash.” You explain fully. His eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink again. “I-I don’t think so. I think they were just thankful I saved them-” He begins to rant, clearly flustered.

You sigh and stop to look at him. “They made it pretty obvious. I mean, they sure didn’t kiss my cheek. Did they?” He looks at you shocked, his brain jumping through hoops to try and explain the kiss. His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks down at your sour expression.

Suddenly a small smile stretches across his lips as he steps forward. He’s put your sour mood since you saved that person together now. He knows you’re jealous. “Well, I guess I’m flattered then. But…I’ve got my eyes on someone already.” he tells you a certain look you can’t place in his eye.

Now it’s your turn to be confused. “What? Who?” You ask, a bit too quickly. He laughs and shakes his head at you. “Someone pretty cool. They’re basically my best friends.” He explains. Your eyes widen as a new type of pain floods your senses. So he likes someone else, AND he has another best friend?

“Who is this person?” You ask, completely upset.

Vash just sighs, a small smile on his face. He walks closer and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. His hand gently combs through your hair

Your heart is suddenly leaping within your chest.

“It’s you.”

Wolfwood

Your finger nails dig into the soft skin on your thighs softly as you watch the scene in front of you unfold. You watch silently as Wolfwood mutters something in this random girl’s ear, making her giggle. She responds by leaning in close, giving him a shy smile. He wraps his arm around her and whispers something else- something you couldn’t hear if you tried. They’re too close now, and you feel your heart plummet into your stomach.

This shouldn’t be much of a surprise at this point. This man does this a lot. He likes to walk off the moment the group finds a place to rest, and try his luck with whoever will give him the time of day. Most of the time his advances are accepted because, as much as you hate to admit it, Wolfwood is handsome. He’s got a nice looking face, and a well toned body. Plus he can be sickeningly charming sometimes, with his unmatched wit and cute little nicknames. Anybody would fall for him.

Despite how common this little scene is, it still makes your chest feel tight. You’re uncomfortable, but you can’t look away. The drink you had ordered to help cool you off is left untouched, growing warmer by the second. You just don’t feel like you can stomach anything right now. You feel sick, and upset.

You’re…well, you’re jealous.

It’s something you’ve come to terms with awhile ago. You have feelings for your weird and mysterious traveling partner. You can only share so many tender moments with him dressing your wounds (or vice versa) before affections arise. You’ve shared enough moments with him where your heart beats uncomfortably fast to understand your feelings. It sucks.

The others have left you to stew in your feelings, knowing that once you get this way there’s no pulling you out. Meryl has tried so many times to convince you to let loose and ignore Wolfwood. She’s tried telling you to go dance with a stranger, or flirt with your own handsome man. “You’re attractive.” She would say. “Anybody here would be on their knees the moment you tried talking to them.” You can’t though. Not even if you wanted to. There’s a deep insecurity that takes over your brain every time you watch the man you love flirt aimlessly with another. It makes you doubt yourself to a degree you have never experienced. Are you not good enough? Not pretty enough? Are you boring? What is it about you that isn’t enough? These thoughts seem to flood your mind, and no amount of alcohol could subside them

Your eyes drift down to his arm resting on the girl's side, his fingers lightly pressing against her. It makes you want to vomit. You wish so desperately to be the one he touches like that, and it sickens you. How stupid are you? Pining after a man who flirts with other people so easily. This man would never give you the time of day- despite how sweet he can seem sometimes.

You grab the drink from the table and hold it to your lips, drinking it all in one go. It burns your throat. It’s not enough. Without missing a beat, another cup lands in front of you. You give a thankful nod to the bartender, then down that drink too. Your thoughts are getting clouded and fuzzy as a light buzz starts to overcome you.

You look over at Wolfwood again. This time though, your eyes meet his. He smiles when the eye contact is made. A sly smirk that makes your blood boil. It’s like he knows your feelings, and he’s rubbing it in your face. You frown and turn away.

What an asshole.

What should you do? You clearly aren’t having fun. The alcohol isn’t helping you loosen up, it’s actually making things feel worse. That girl is pressed up against Wolfwood, and you’re sure you might throw up or cry if you continue watching. Maybe you should leave. Go find a quiet place to relax? Yeah that’s a good idea. You leave your payment for the drinks on the counter and walk out of the building, into the chilly night air. For how hot it normally is on this harsh planet, the nights can get deadly cold.

You lean against the railing and sigh softly. It’s just not your night.

The sound of a door opening and closing brings you out of your little moment of peace, and the familiar smell of cigarettes makes your nose wrinkle. Wolfwood walks up next to you, flicking his lighter. He rests his elbows against the railing and leans forward.

“Why’d you run off?” He asks after a couple minutes of silence.

You look at him through the side of your eye for a moment, taking in his features. He looks so soft in the moonlight. Far different right now than how he always seems. A hint of warmth under the cold exterior he seems to always parade around. A side of him that he only lets you see.

“Needed some fresh air.” You finally answer, looking away. He’s really the last person you want to see right now. “Aren’t you missing somebody?” You ask, the alcohol makes you bolder than normal. There’s a sense of anger in your voice you can’t hide.

“You mean that girl?” He asks his hand going to his chin as if he’s thinking. “Just wasn’t feeling it. Why?” That sly smirk is back. “You feeling a little jealous?” His voice is quiet. He’s not looking at you, not entirely. He sometimes flickers his eye over to you, probably to see how you react.

Your eyes snap up to him, and a new anger surges through you. You can’t believe this man! He’s such a…a.. “You’re an asshole.” You say out loud, turning to look at him. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of your eyes.

“Is that a yes?” He goes to tease you, but when he turns to face you he stops dead in his tracks. His eyes meet with yours. His smile drops and a myriad of emotions go through his eyes. Confusion, surprise, then worry. He turns his body to you, and lets the bud of his cigarette fall to the ground. You remain tense, and quiet. You find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh.”

That’s all he says for a while. It seems he understands your feelings now. His hands clench and unclench, as he looks away. There’s a silence that takes over now. It’s awkward and tense.

You grow tired of the moment, and let out a soft sigh. You knew he’d react like this. You knew there was no way he’d feel the same way. It’s still heartbreaking though. Your stomach is in ruins, and it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of you. Curse whatever created you for making you feel so utterly helpless in this situation.

You turn to leave, but his hand finds your wrist and he pulls you back. “Don’t- Just give me a second.” He sighs, and his hand slips away. You stay put, despite the fact you desperately want to escape. He pulls out another cigarette and holds the lighter up to his lips, lighting it. The glow shows off his conflicted eyes.

He takes a deep breath, and then lets it go.

“You’re too good for me.” He says finally. “I”m…not the type of guy you should fall in love with.” His words are filled with an emotion you’ve never heard from him. This is a new Wolfwood. “I’ve done stuff…” he cuts himself off and looks in the opposite direction of you. “Sweetheart I…I…” he’s struggling to find the words. He takes a deep breath and then-

“Fuck it.”

He whips around. He grabs the cigarette from his lips with one hand, and the other clutches onto the back of your head. It happens too fast for you to understand completely , but he pulls you close and his lips catch yours. It’s a soft kiss.

He pulls away and leaves you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. His hand is still cradling the back of your head. He stares down at you, his dark eyes trying to convey to you what he’s struggling to say out loud. He loves you too.

#wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #wolfwood drabble #vash drabble #request #no beta

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fleshdyke · 2 years

Text

i think it starts with an apocalypse. by sheer luck and circumstance, you survive. you seem to be the only one.

everything seems barren, eerily still, nothing but grass and trees and water. you survive, but there is nothing here. the only sign that anyone was ever here is pyramids of solid red brick, stacked up in a uniformly triangular shape. they don’t seem to do anything. you are alone.

your first night finds you tormented by the dead. they groan and creak and seem to be desperate to infect you. they are all dead by morning.

there’s only a few resilient species that seem to have survived along with you. they’re your only chance right now. the sheep provide companionship. you learn not to get attached to the pigs.

you build a home for yourself. it’s modest, nothing fancy, but it protects you from the elements. you still have hope. your footsteps echo through the empty house in the mornings. you are alone.

it takes years, but ever so slowly, the second hominid re-emerges. they build villages and farmland and are happy to barter with you. they have their own language. you seem to have forgotten yours.

you find the remains of wild animals you haven’t killed. you learn to be patient, and watchful, and you see the wolves that hunt in the forests. it takes a long time, but you gain the trust of one of them. she never leaves your side again.

you explore a little more. you find ancient temples in the deserts, booby trapped and filled with forgotten riches from millennia ago. you don’t know who built this. whoever it was disappeared a long time ago.

jungles flourish and bring with them tropical fruit and colourful birds and skittish cats that seem to love fish. you take home as many as will follow you. the world isn’t quite so quiet anymore.

the oceans come alive again. it’s no longer an empty, unforgiving void that you just so happen to be lucky enough to float on. schools of fish flicker away into vast kelp forests when you cast your lure into the water. the tropical shallows fill with a myriad of fish and coral in every colour you can think of. you find an old boat, much bigger than anything you could ever construct, laying dormant at the bottom of the sea. the writing on the maps you find there is familiar.

there is a temple in the middle of the ocean. you don’t know who built it, but it’s been reclaimed by the fish. you don’t dare go there anymore.

bees buzz softly through the air. you learn to keep them, and learn to harvest their honey, and your crops grow better than they ever have. your livestock keep you busy. your livestock keep you distracted.

even the lost dimension that connection to was severed so long ago returns to its former glory. you explore forests of mycelium and dunes of sticky sand and basalt spires and with them they bring the lost intelligent hominid. you learn quickly not to touch their temples, no matter how run down they seem to be. they are holy.

and even in the most hostile, barren places, deep underground, the place where only you seem to have ever been, life flourishes. glowing lichen lights your way and bears you fruit. massive caverns and underground freshwater pools are home to unique plants and unseen amphibians.

and even after so much growth, and so much recovery, you are still alone.

you search. you search for months that turn into years that turn into decades. what was once a humble homestead has grown into a fortress. you are safe there. you are alone. on every expedition, you leave markers and statues, anything to say i was here. i am alive. you set up beacons to signal to anyone who might be out there. no one ever responds. you are alone.

you follow forgotten maps to the ends of the earth to find anyone that might have survived alongside you. you cannot give up. you cannot be alone.

you experiment. you’ve found a way to cure infected villagers, to return them home, but have had no such luck with the remains of your own species. you think they’re your own species. they’re the closest thing to you that you’ve seen. you grow desperate.

the humanoids that walk freely between their realm and yours used to frighten you, but you’ve been alone for so long you find yourself talking back to them. you begin to hear greetings in the noises they make. you know they aren’t talking to you. you wish you could talk to them. you don’t try to make eye contact.

you follow every clue you find in forgotten ruins. they always lead to nowhere. you piece together portals to other worlds, and find nothing but hostile hellscapes and misery. you have travelled across the world. you’ve gone from blistering deserts and over unforgiving mountains and through freezing tundras and across oceans to find someone, anyone. there is never a new signal, a new clue. there is never anything to indicate that there are any survivors.

you are alone.

your bones creak. it’s been so long. you don’t want to die. you don’t want to take your species with you.

so what do you think, when you turn to see someone standing in a doorway in your fortress that you spent decades building? someone so unmistakably human, someone you’ve spent your entire life searching for to no avail, someone you’ve been constantly lying to yourself about, convincing yourself they were out there somewhere, all the while knowing they weren’t?

you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, if you’ve finally slipped into madness. if this is just a stroke of bizarre luck, that the other survivor has found you before you could find them. if this is another malevolent entity in a world full of strange magic and power, something that was once human, or is only somewhat, or is just appearing to be, and is simply better than the others at pretending.

only one way to find out.

#i think today i will write a poem about minecraft #mc is a psychological horror game. and i fully believe this #and that makes it one of the best games ever made amen #btw dsmp fans dont interact. i hate you and your racist white guys #rambles #poetry #poems #minecraft #mc #horror #writing #my art #long post #psychological horror #unreality #100 #best

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linkito · 3 days

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HI LINK. here's a kiss prompt: scarian #19 - for luck <3

Scar stares with growing unease as Grian continues piling sand atop TNT in an alternating pattern, readying the entire desert to blow. It’s something they both agreed upon, sure, but Scar cannot help but have second thoughts as he watches his green-life partner set the rest of their home up for destruction.

The castle itself, of course, is already trapped— their own base reduced to nothing more than a weapon, no longer livable. All they have is a bed and a few chests crammed into a bunker laced with obsidian and surrounded by the sound of popping lava.

It all changed so fast.

Scar was starting to really enjoy their life here in the desert. And maybe it was foolish to grow attached to something that was always destined to fall apart, but...

He sighs, eyeing the sweat dripping down Grian’s brow as he finishes covering up the last few holes in the sand. He looks determined, as always, while he carries out the final few steps of his design— his grand plan to take Dogwarts down at any cost (aside from Scar’s own life).

Scar wishes he could feel moved by that fact, but all he can think about is what will happen when Grian turns yellow.

Not if, when.

Because Grian speaks of it with certainty. He told Scar to pull the doomsday lever even if he’s inside the blast range. His final debt paid at the cost of his own life.

And then Scar really will have lost everything. The desert, the base— neither of those things are truly home in the way Grian is to him. Every build within this death game was always meant to be temporary, after all, but it’s those nights spent curled up together for warmth that Scar wanted to hold onto. To be worth something. To be permanent.

Those wordless mornings where they wake up in a tangle of limbs, neither of them willing to bring attention to it. Both of them swallowing down whatever feelings their sleep-dazed brains may have concocted, whatever weaknesses they may have displayed.

Soon that dance will be over. No conclusion, no fanfare, no closure.

He spent too long convincing himself there would always be a tomorrow, another chance to admit how he feels.

“Scar,” Grian says, somewhat exasperated but with that familiar, fond roll of his eyes. Judging by the tone, it’s not the first time he called Scar’s name. He was just too lost in his own head to notice.

Scar snaps to attention with a theatrical grin and a salute, which makes Grian scoff, but it’s far too close to a laugh. He doesn’t even bother hiding his own smile.

“I asked if you were ready,” Grian says, eyes flicking over toward the horizon as the sun begins to set, scanning for any sign of their enemies. When he looks back, his green eyes are weary, but bright, looking right at Scar with a complicated mix of worry and steady resolve.

Scar pauses. “Almost,” he says, taking in the sight of those very eyes widening in surprise as he takes hold of Grian’s arm— warm and coated with sticky grains of sand where his sleeve is bunched up—and pulls him in close.

For a moment, Scar waits, faces close and bodies closer, giving Grian more than enough time to pull away if he so chooses.

But he doesn’t. His eyes remain fixed on Scar, stunned, but no longer so afraid— a firmness in his gaze that wasn’t there before.

Scar leans in and finds Grian meeting him halfway, lips pressed together in what is ultimately a very brief, yet dazzlingly suffocating kiss that leaves them almost staggering backward to regain the breath that was so instantly stolen from them both.

Neither of them say anything as the sun fades behind the mountains, and for a moment Scar wonders if this will just be another thing neither of them choose to speak about, but it’s Grian that breaks first, letting out a still-breathless chuckle as he tears his eyes away from Scar, glancing down at the sand beneath them as his cheeks glow a rosy red.

Scar can’t help but grin.

“For luck,” Scar says, holding out his hand for Grian to take as he motions toward their bunker.

Grian snickers in response, taking the offering and following Scar inside. He gives Scar’s hand a squeeze, but keeps his face ducked down, smiling softly at the sand beneath their feet.

“Right. ...for luck.”

#scarian #link answers #link writes #i thought about drawing something for this one but i wanted to post so bad #i may draw something for the next one :3 #hermitshipping #kiss prompts

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