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#Whispers in the Forest (dash commentary)
myradelphox · 2 years
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“I get why some people are not fond of psychic-types, most of our kind can be a bit tough to deal with. I try as much as possible to stay away from prying into people’s minds or doing something that makes them uncomfortable. It’s not me to know stuff they don’t want me to know.”
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“On the other hand, it helps me communicate with humans via telepathy. It’s not all bad.”
6 notes · View notes
bloodylariat · 2 years
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She almost laughs at how flustered her sister can get. It’s quite cute.
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moonxsuncelestials · 1 year
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I posted 1,536 times in 2022
448 posts created (29%)
1,088 posts reblogged (71%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@cuteteacakes
@akumanoken
@kurai-honoo
@game-weaver
@chaoticxgays
I tagged 1,532 of my posts in 2022
#rp - 482 posts
#yun ic - 415 posts
#outofdragonsbreathandhellfire - 236 posts
#li ic - 108 posts
#queue the dragonsbreath and hellfire - 99 posts
#cuteteacakes - 85 posts
#dash commentary - 67 posts
#akumanoken - 66 posts
#mirror of the darkside of the moon - 65 posts
#yue ic - 63 posts
Longest Tag: 138 characters
#practical effects are just as hitandrunduo rp said cgi is best paired with animation or the actual practical effects because if done right
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
@twxn-brxthers​
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“Huh? Interesting kingdom, huh Dad?” The tiger asked as his father nodded while he kept his side of the carriage shaded. “You sure about this, Dad? I can’t exactly give the guy cubs.”
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“I know, Khan. But this is for the good of our kingdom and it will keep your uncle from trying to form a harem for you as he’s done for Jade.” He dragon king replied as his son shuddered. “You’re going to do just fine. Just promise me to keep your teasing to a tolerable level, okay?” He asked as his son nodded. “Good.” 
Khan purred as he was petted despite how unroyal like that was. But this was his dad, who threw out most royal customs, being affectionate to his children and loved ones. “We’re here.” 
The tiger gulped and once the carriage door opened, King Yun was given a parasol to protect him from the harsh sunlight. And thus began their new journey.
14 notes - Posted January 22, 2022
#4
~~The Story~~
Legends say that eons ago, long before the world humans knew and even began to understand their own existence and the power they would one day wield, The First Ones (Primals) ruled.
Born from the very primal waters of life deep within the seas and the Void, the First Ones were the original gods of the world; creating all that humans know of from the earth beneath our feet, the forests, the lakes, and rivers,  to the sky above and the other side where the spirits dwell. They even made a deal with Khaos to allow him to bring forth the Gods, children of his own who could mate with the children of the First Ones: the Dragons.
Whilst wars in the West came and went thanks to those like Kronos among the Greeks, the First Ones of the East came to a truce with their deities; creating harmony and balance that the West seemed to lack. And for many centuries, peace and harmony reigned in the East. Every few generations, a dragon or two would be given to the Gods to produce offspring, known as the Dramans.
Thrilled and pleased to have such a long and peaceful reign, the First Ones of the East agreed to quietly watch over though forewarned the Gods that should they begin to become like those of the West, they will destroy not only them but also what they care for the most: their humans.
Sadly this came to pass a century later and from the manipulations of both the Dragon Jade Emperor Zhixin and the Jade Emperor, the First Ones were sealed down into the depths of the sea, placing them into a deep slumber. One by one, the now called the Fallen Ones, the First Ones died out til only a handful remained but they swore that they would get even. 
A Fallen One by the name of Sacahiel foretold that it would be the First Ones’ first children, the Celestial Dragons, and those who had sided with them to strike back. They would become known as the Fallen Celestials and in the coming centuries, it was they who found Chang’e, having gone mad from her years of being isolated on the moon; the First Ones spoke through the whispers of the shadows, telling her to gather their children and how to gather them to her side. They whispered for her to find Hope, bring him to their side, and unlock the final seal that holds them in place.
Should Chang’e succeed, the balance shall be tipped and the world will end.
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Memes X
See the full post
15 notes - Posted February 12, 2022
#3
@cuteteacakes​ from X
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“You are to me, Caleb.” He replied with a soft smile as he reached to cup the other’s cheek. “You’re a kind young man, brilliant with your bakery and the games you play-you taught this old man after all how to keep cool on your stream.” With his dislike for technology, it had been a miracle that only Caleb could fashion to help him not panic and get him to talk about why he doesn’t like loud noises.
“We’ve both been hurt, Caleb. But you keep going, keep trying and not let the past upset you; I admire that.”
18 notes - Posted July 7, 2022
#2
@akumanoken​ from X
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They were happy to see the princess excited, the children looking at one another before hearing that the woman was indeed Sakura’s mother; thus making her Li’s grandmother. And it made Li a little wary but remembering how it was the lady’s husband that he needed to be careful around; not her. 
Getting up, shyly, he ran to his mother and bowed politely to the queen of Makoto. “O-O-Obaacha? Nana?” He asked cutely as Jade grinned.
Whilst the boys and Fenghua remained with the queen of Makoto and Sakura, Yun was still rushing about before word reached him that his uncle had the king. Walking to them, he chuckled quietly at seeing how nervous the king appeared to be. “Uncle, come now, no need for hostilities.” 
Yet.
See the full post
22 notes - Posted August 1, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
@cuteteacakes​ said:
"Very much so...~" Caleb feigned fainting. "Only a kiss will revive me..~"
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A kiss is exactly what Yun hoped for and he wasted no time giving Caleb a pretty passionate one. The type that leave them both dizzy from lack of oxygen. “I think I need to give you mouth-to-mouth~” He purred and let Caleb get his breath in before he began to kiss him again. 
Yue could handle the Oasis on her own and Castle-ah he can hear his old friend now cheering. Even Hope was excited, likely because the dragon was leaving the pain behind him. 
26 notes - Posted September 8, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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magicnights · 3 years
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“Huh. Why do I feel like I know that person?” BECAUSE YOUR FACECLAIMS ARE SOURCED FROM THE SAME SERIES. 
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pet-sematary-su-au · 4 years
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Master Tag Post
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twst-campos13 · 3 years
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headcanons for Rook, Malleus, Silver, and Vil when their m!s/o jumps on their back biting their head screaming nonsense like a mad man. the first year gang coming running and one explains wheezing “mistake in potions, physical capabilities inhanced, out of control, immune to magic, help”
the rest of the day is spent with literally all the twst boys chasing after their insane boyfriend. tears were shed, dignity lost, pride scratched.
by the time he’s caught it’s nearly midnight and none of them know what’s real anymore since he kept screaming very philosophical things.
i await your answer with anticipation~
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*weakly grips you,,,* 
it is...finished....i will leave most of my commentary in the notes...also please read the warning tags carefully! 
Warnings: language, mild physical violence, implicit dementia (Vil’s part!), poison, blood, depiction/description of death, goofy’s trial dialogue (Vil’s part), mild gun threat (Vil’s part) << no actual guns were present but was mentioned Tags: male!reader, angst, crackfic
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This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Ace started it. Deuce aided. Epel volunteered. Jack said it was a bad idea and Sebek warned them. Yet in the end—in the end—they contributed. They helped. And when the smoke cleared from the explosion that shattered the laboratory's windows, beakers, and test tubes, spilling chemicals on the ground—on you—it was too late for Crewel to protect you. For your friends to protect you.
Grim called your name. Once. Twice. Thrice in a yowl of panic as Deuce held him back and carried him away when he tried to get closer to your unmoving body; it's laying in a puddle of liquid. Black? Brown? Gray? He doesn't know the colors—how doesn't know what's happening—he doesn't know and he doesn't care because he just wants you to be safe.
Ace couldn't speak. Deuce couldn't move. Epel started shaking but hid behind a mask of control. Jack's ears and tail were erratic and Sebek broke the silence with a firm command of retreating. Let the professor handle this. Let the adult handle it.
Then you moved.
They watched you rose from the ground like a corpse from the grave.
And hell breaks loose.
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➸ Why did you bite his head and messed his hair up
➸ He got no time for games, fool
➸ KIDDING
➸ Granted you did jump at Vil when his Flying Class was done. It startled him and shocked everybody. His face flared because he thought your surprise hugs had gotten too far. It took Mr. Ashton and a few of his classmates to get you off him. He's pretty sure you managed to tear off a few hairs from his scalp—and skin apparently because he felt blood drip down his lashes. 
➸ Okay, that's not normal behavior for you-
➸ You were more than disheveled; your lab coat was torn and singed, blood was seeping from your clothes, and you had a dazed look. Vil fixed himself immediately, of course, but it's natural for him to get worried about you. You looked awful. Vil was sure the chemicals splattered on your skin and uniform was what was making you disoriented. What are these fools doing still holding onto you? You should be taken to the infirmary this instance! 
➸ Vil wasn't prepared for what you did next. The moment Mr. Ashton held your shoulders to lead you to the infirmary, you knocked him out with an elbow strike. What the fuck.
➸ Okay, obviously, you're defensive. Vil took out his pen and—along with a few other students and the professor??—tried to restrain you. Vil was careful not to cast any harmful spells on you but for some reason, the professor and the other seniors seem to go off on casting advanced spells that could quite literally kill you! Du spinnst wohl are they insane?
➸ It took a lot from Vil to not be hysterical. Panicking will not do him any good but having to witness you get blasted by magic and only shake it off while maddeningly laughing is frustrating. He couldn't bear the sight of seeing you get hurt and argued loudly with one of the seniors to go easy on you. The fact that you were spouting nonsense doesn't help your situation at all, especially when you declared this, "ah-hyuck! I'll fucking shoot 'em again."
➸ "Love, will you please cooperate!" was what Vil wished to say, but seeing you in this state brought a jab of pain in his heart. The familiarity of this situation—the confusion, the frustration, the worry, the pain—adds up to the pressure and desperation of just saving you from whatever the fuck this is. 
➸ Vil doesn't even want to look at himself in the mirror. He fears that he'll end up breaking the mirror from what he'll see, but he's pretty sure, with the fight and the chase you're giving everyone, that his makeup is running and his hair is a mess. Amidst nausea and chaos, Vil came up with a solution to restrain you. So, gathering what is left of his dignity and pride, and his love for you, Vil wiped the sweat and smudged makeup off his face and ran back to Pomefiore.
➸ Don't ask why he has a ready-made collection of poisons. Just don't. It's for emergencies—such as this. 
➸ Rook found him hunched over his table with the vials of poison. He calmed Vil down and assured him that you'll be alright. The only fear that Vil has is losing another person he cares about—that includes you. Rook kissed his hand and told him he will bring the poison to you. Rook knows how much you mean to Vil, and because of his devotion to his roi de poison, he will do whatever he can to ensure your safety for Vil's sanity.
➸ Rook advised Vil not to come with him, but he wants to. Vil wants to be able to hold you in his arms and be the first to make sure that you're okay. 
➸ When the deed has been done, Vil rushed to your side. He expected your body to be as cold as a corpse but still, it shocked him. He ignored the whisper of doubt and tended to the wound Rook made to put you to sleep. You've been taken to the infirmary along with everyone else that you caused inconvenience. Vil didn't come for the anxiety settled with the fatigue in his body.
➸ When Vil came back to the Pomefiore common room, sluggish and tired, he found Rook holding Epel's shoulder. The little potato couldn't look at him in the eye and frankly, Vil just wanted to spend some time in his quarters. However, Epel's confessed, and a little bit of energy came back to Vil so he can process what the little potato said to him.
➸ He what.
➸ His hand sprung up instinctively and Epel flinched. But Vil knew this wouldn't undo what happened. He knew it isn't worth it. Vil doesn't have the strength to be angry or blame Epel. It was a mistake, after all. A very stupid mistake. Epel looked pitiful crying for forgiveness so Vil asked Rook to send him back to his room.
➸ It's proven enough just how Vil cares about you.
Vil sat down in front of his vanity table. He could not bear to look at himself in the mirror. All he could do is stare blankly at nothing. Your words made no sense and Vil feared the worst when you wake up. If you wake up.
"Great Sevens..." he muttered and wiped the tears that fell from his face. He knew what he had to do next. He just had to be prepared for it.
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➸  Imagine Rook saying "oh mon Dieu" with the most neutral face and surprised eyes as if the explosion was just a mild inconvenience. 
➸  POV: you're Trey Clover 
➸  He and Trey were just cleaning around in the greenhouse when the explosion occurred. Rook knows that you have a special assignment with your friends. You didn't tell him what it is but he doesn't need you to. (He overheard Epel and Ace chill he respects you enough as his boyfriend to not pry into your private life via stalking)
- ➸ He wasted no time dashing to the potions lab. Being a hunter makes you very quickly as well as expecting the unexpected. However, he didn't expect the First Year Gang to be thrown out of the door and you emerge from the smoke as if you were some sort of ravaging beast. 
➸  If you weren't obviously covered in soot and blood, Rook would have fainted from the beauty and badassery you're currently conveying. 
➸  Now is not the time to be in awe—you jumped wall to wall with a speed faster than a cheetah's and Rook was able to deflect your attack by sidestepping. However, a few students got injured in the process. Rook saw your intention despite Monsieur Heart warning the students to not get in the way, lest they hurt themselves. You had no intention to harm—only run. 
➸  Rook has two options: follow you empty-handed or grab his bow and risk losing you
➸  He's confident in his skills in finding you, so he chose to gather information first. By that, well, pulling Epel to the side to calm him down then ask him what happened. Rook managed to understand the situation despite Epel shaking like a leaf. He doesn't feel angry. Such emotion would only intensify his instincts and he might do something that will put you and everyone else in harm more. So instead he thanked Epel, gave his head a pat, and quickly dashed to his locker for his bow and arrows. 
➸  Your boyfriend is a madman before you, for he immediately knows where you were after getting his bow. Rook attained higher heights for a better view and from the roof, he saw your figure dashing towards the forest. Ah, so your instincts led you to where you wish to be. Alright, this isn't Rook's first hunt. 
➸  When everyone else had trouble tracking you down, Rook doesn't. He reminded himself that you're not in the right mind. His monsieur filou is akin to a startled, confused, and defensive wild animal at the moment. Like a little rat, he supposed. Your movements aren't that hard to decipher for a hunter like him plus he can hear your kitchen philosophy from a mile away. 
➸  He has to apologize to Vil for taking a few vials of ready-made poison. But this is a matter of life and death. You are in danger from yourself, and as your knight, Rook will save you. Quiet as he can, he laced the tip of his arrow with the poison and aimed it at you. Rook closed his eyes and reminded himself that he is doing this to save you; not to harm you. 
➸  He notched his arrow—and you caught it with your bare. Fucking. Hand. SINGLE HAND!!
➸  Rook, internally: holy shit that was hot 
➸  Well his covers have been blown and you waved the arrow around screaming something about "I trusted you little guy!" before throwing the arrow with such accuracy while saying "go and take your little mice friend family rat with you!"
➸  Mon Dieu, he does not appreciate being called a rat!
➸  The chase continued and you quite gave everyone a workout. As much as Rook appreciated the stimulating experience you gave him, he much rather wants you subdued and safe, not running around with so many people after you. Luckily, Vil came in and gave him a new vial that is much more potent than the one he stole. He is amazed by the preparedness of his roi de poison but he is much concerned at the potency of the poison. 
➸  Vil strictly stared at him and nodded at the new direction you ran to. "With his state like that, you need to take the risks." Rook took his advice. Vil is always sharp as a dagger after all.
➸  Which means he had to use a dagger than an arrow to subdue you. Yes, Rook took the risk of having the poison close to him and closer to you in a 1 v 1 scuffle. Ah, this took him back to when he wrestled his first bear. Except the bear is his boyfriend and you're still quite human...and he's going to drive the blade of his dagger in a non-critical part of your body.
➸  Finally, the drama ended, and the curtains closed when your body fell into his arms. Your blood trickles into a small stream from where he drove the blade in. Rook knelt to the ground and cradled your body in his arms. Sweat dripped everywhere on his skin but he doesn't care about that. He cares about you. 
➸  Rook reminded himself that you can be cured of your sleep-like death and prioritized the wound that he engraved on your skin. He kissed the place where he stabbed you and solemnly apologized for defacing your body. Worry not, he will have you stitched in the infirmary, and you will awaken with his kiss...atleast he hoped you will. 
➸  Epel was waiting there when Rook brought you in. The poor boy had been crying and he apologized to Rook for the mistake he had done. Rook felt no anger and instead felt sympathy. He too had done his fair share of mistakes, and Epel should not burden himself with those. Instead, he told him, take this as a learning experience as to not do it again.
➸  Rook saved Epel from Vil's harsh scolding. Now, the only one that needs saving, is you.
Even in a sleep-like death, you are still beautiful. Your pale skin is a worrying sight to many but Rook managed to calm himself by admiring it instead. Your body is like marble with blue veins spreading in varied directions.
Rook knew he cannot distract himself by admiring you like a statue of art. You are an art, not a statue. Only histories remain as statues—and you will not become history. He knew what he had to do.
"Oh, mon filou," he whispered against your cold lips, "forgive me."
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➸ Just a reminder: Malleus cares for you deeply :))
➸ He was just minding his own business when you suddenly attacked him from behind. Malleus thought you were just being your usual self and lifted his head so you'd let go of his horns. But you didn't and instead, you pulled on it harder that it startled him. He knows how strong you are—meaning something is wrong-
➸ You had quite the vice grip on his horns even when he used his tail to try and pry you off and even shake you off. He didn't want to use his entire strength to throw you but the moment his skin broke under your nails, his instincts came in first, and he threw you across the hallway. 
➸ Malleus was horrified. He didn't mean to throw you much less even hurt you. The panic got to him faster than the pain on his head as he rushed to where you flew. Was it possible to feel overwhelming fear? When Malleus' saw the outline of your figure cut clean on the window, he felt something more than fear. If he had lost you and it was his fault, then his promises for you are broken. 
➸ Then he spots your hand reach through the hole in the window. And you pulled yourself up and through the hole before dropping to the floor like a ragdoll. You were covered in bruises and cuts. Malleus feared that you have a concussion as well for you were muttering loudly about the stars melting and the Moores burning.
➸ Well, Malleus could worry about that later. You were injured and disoriented. The amount of blood coming out of you is increasing and his priority is getting you to safety. 
➸ However, just before he can scoop you in his arms, his knights came to his side. Silver looked like he'd been roused from his sleep as Sebek is disheveled. He made a firm declaration of protecting the Young Master, and that would have been normal for Sebek...if he was standing proud and tall as he said it. Malleus could easily smell the anxiety and lingering guilt from the young fae. 
➸ Things got even more concerning as Professor Crewel, Crowley, a few senior students, and Sebek's friends joined in. Malleus looked back at you and saw your cornered state. He doesn't understand what's happening yet but one thing is for sure—you're equally terrified as he is. Everyone was on guard, the Headmaster and the Professor spoke to you as if you were a wild animal—which you were—but all Malleus could think of is grabbing you and flying you away to safety.
➸ Which he did do despite public opinions
➸ By public opinions, the shouts of protests that soon fell quiet when he grabbed you and disappeared...also the "protest" falling from you which Malleus couldn't really understand. It was philosophy and poetry and a prophecy that he can comprehend little; for all Malleus cares about is you.
➸ "My dear, please, what had happened to you?" The desperation was painfully obvious in his tone as he restrained you with advanced magic. Yet as he tried to call you out of your subconscious he realized that magic is futile. Whatever state you are in you are able to break free from his magic. Malleus stayed on the defense as you attacked him, yet he recognized your attempts of attacking as desperation for help. If you crying and wailing out "save me" and "free me" isn't enough to give it away.
➸ No matter how many cuts you give him, no matter how much he will bleed, Malleus refused to fight you. 
➸ He just wants you to be okay :((
➸  Malleus knew what he had to do but he doesn't know if he had the strength to do it. Your face streaked with tears and pain pushed his heart to do it anyway. So, Malleus shoved you away with a quick pulse of magic, just enough time for him to summon his staff. He blocked your mouth from biting his neck with his arm, and even if it hurts, seeing your eyes begging to be saved hurts more. 
➸ When Lilia and the others found him, he was cradling your body in his arms. His staff laid on the ground and his tears dripped down your face like a fickle rain. Lilia didn't need an answer to know what he had done. 
➸ Malleus pulled your unconscious body close to him, hoping—desperate—to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. He couldn't hear your pulse, your heartbeat, and he couldn't feel your warmth. All he could feel is cold and numbness. But atleast you are at rest. You are saved. You're okay. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.
➸ But he knows deep down that you're not. Because if you are okay, he wouldn't be noiselessly crying and clinging to your body as if you just died. You're alive but you're also dead. Knowing the cure for this dilemma tore his heart to pieces because deep down Malleus is still afraid. He feels like he lost you even though the truth isn't far from it. 
➸ Your words echoed in his mind before he hit you with his Unique Magic. You started hissing and wailing and finally, you raised your arms in the air and shouted, "this curse will last till the end of time—no power on earth can change it!" 
➸ Can you blame him for putting you in a sleep-like death, a sleep which you will never awaken unless by True Love's Kiss? He panicked :((
➸ Malleus kept your body close to him even when he stood up and looked at Sebek bowing deeply on the ground. He was shaking but his tone was loud enough for Malleus to have an understanding of the matter and of Sebek's apology. 
➸ Hearing that he was an accomplice of what happened to you gave him mixed emotions. 
➸ Sebek vowed his loyalty to Malleus, and when you came into his life, Sebek vowed to protect you as well. And he failed. That is very clear. The poor boy must be getting gnawed inside out with guilt. Well, Sebek did say that he will accept whatever punishment that is will befall him. He should stay true to his words because Malleus is furious. 
➸ Malleus vowed to protect you and raise Hellfire to whoever will cause you harm. He wanted to curse him, burn him on where he stands, and make him pay for what he had done unto you. He could do all of these for he can.
➸ But Malleus won't. He won't do those things to Sebek. He held himself back, swallowed the anger, remained in control of himself in front of the pitiful boy. Sebek is your friend. Sebek is his family. In the end, despite his loyalty, despite his duty, Sebek is still a kid. And Malleus knows that. He won't let this burden the young boy despite him taking full responsibility for the situation.
➸ But Malleus doesn't have the words to say what he wants to say. Instead, he told Sebek to rise from his feet and wordlessly left to bring you to the infirmary. 
➸ In the end, what matters most is you.
Your words remain in his mind to echo along with the voices of his fears. Malleus wished to feel the warmth of your hand again, for when he grasped it by your bedside he could feel nothing.
True Love's Kiss can wake you. True Love's Kiss. But do such a thing exist in Twisted Wonderland? Of course, it does, Malleus, of course, it does. However, seeing your pale lips are more of a dreadful reminder than a hopeful invitation.
The fear settled in his stomach along with his insecurities. Malleus cannot lose you. He can live without you, but he does not want to.
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➸ Homeboy was just sleeping under the tree,,, he didn't hear the explosion go off or even heard you running at him at full speed
➸ By that, well, running at inhumane speed and pouncing right on him like a rabid animal.
➸ He woke right up when he felt the pain immediately. It was like getting hit with a spine of a book—it jostled him enough to wake him, at least, and the adrenaline rushing through him was enough to knock you off. Silver didn't have time to get what the fuck was happening but thank the Sevens he was trained enough to be quick-footed. 
➸ He had time to grab his baton but he didn't have time to block your pounce. And damn you hit like a truck! Silver had to use his baton to block your face even if your entire weight was pressing down at him. There was something definitely wrong with you—and it's not just the look in your eyes-
➸ "What's gotten into you?!" the sudden shout made you calm down—thankfully—and Silver thought you're fine again. You looked at him blankly and the anxiety nipped at his skin. "Are you talking to me?" ????? Who else is he talking to??? 
➸ When he talked to you, like, yes dear I'm talking to you, your face contorted into something akin to bashfulness—the tipsy kind of bashfulness. The next thing you said confused and worried him more: "Mrs. Robinsons...you're seducing me."
➸ ???? Who the fuck is Mrs. Robinsons???
➸ Well, Silver doesn't have time to think what kind of enchantment table language you're daying because you're suddenly thrown away from him by a burst of magic—advanced magic that he only saw Malleus cast once because of the sheer force it can create. By that, meaning, one single hit of that magic can KILL A REGULAR HUMAN BEING.
➸ It was Professor Crewel who fired the blast and even he looked astounded at what he'd done. Silver didn't waste any time rushing to where you were blasted off. He was expecting you...dead, remains, fuck...what he wasn't expecting was seeing you still standing. Barely alive with your skin blooded and peeling and regenerating—but alive, nonetheless. 
➸ He locked eyes with you again and the cold feeling settled at the pit of his stomach looking at you. "Hey. Don't look at me like I'm fucking Frankenstein." You opened your arms at him and gave a solemn nod. "Give your father a hug." 
➸ Silver, softly: what the fuck
➸ When Professor Crewel withdrew his wand again you literally hissed like a raccoon. And it looked like he wasn't alone for Sebek pulled Silver away from your range. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were here too. Silver took a deep breath and looked at Sebek wordlessly demanding what the fuck is happening. 
➸ Sebek, as quick as he could, explained the situation to Silver. The quick run-down of things swum around in Silver's head as your nonsensical remarks made him dizzier. Guess that explains your strength and immunity to magic. 
➸ Silver: who did this to him?? Sebek, sweating: it's a funny story, really
➸ Silver stared at Sebek. He didn't have time to process what the fuck Sebek just confessed to because you screamed again. Sebek and he whipped around to see you viciously tearing apart roots and magical bonds set off by the professor along with the senior students that rushed to the scene. "ALRIGHT," you screamed, yeeting Ace, "I'm TIRED of these EFFIN snakes on this MOTHERFUCKIN' TRAIN!" Then you took off running the other direction toward the forest, and the chorus of frustration reminded Silver of the gravity of the situation.
➸ The absurd weight on his entire body made Silver wish this was just a nightmare.
➸ But it would be a nightmare to lose you. 
➸ Even when the night was starting to stretch, and the others were sent by the staff to the infirmary, Silver went to the forest with a heavy heart and his baton in hand. Sebek followed him—for what, a sense of responsibility?—and stopped him before he runs into a tree or worse. Silver snapped at him, the anger finally reaching its surface, and he glared at the young man. Silver isn't the type to fight with his fist nor his words, but this is about you. You who were struck by a mix of potions and magic and currently missing because someone's big head got you in trouble.
➸ Silver knows that Sebek knows how much you mean to him. He's also well aware of Sebek's particular dislike for humans. That remark made Sebek slightly stumble. A flash of hurt and angry was in his eyes but he never tried to hit Silver, despite almost losing control over himself. 
➸ "Fighting would not bring him back, Silver. Arguing will not either," Sebek told him. "I know my apologies will be useless in this situation and that is why I will do everything that I can to fix this." 
➸ Silver is on the verge of fucking tears but it won't compare to Sebek who remains a straight face while his nose turns bright red from holding back tears. Fortunately, before things get worse, Lilia and Malleus came from the trees. In Malleus' arms was you, quiet, and sedated. Silver would have jumped at Malleus and whisked you away but he's suddenly overcome with fatigue that Lilia had to place his arms around him. 
➸ Apparently, the two found you by the river doing whatever then Malleus struck you with his Unique Magic. At that mention, Silver felt cold. He didn't realize how tired he felt, from running around to worrying about you. Despite the heaviness on his shoulders and eyelids, he kept his eyes on you. You looked peaceful but hurt. And Silver wished he can keep you close to him to make you less hurt.
➸ He's glad that you're okay now but he feels dreadful about what's to come next. That dread never left, though, even when the slumber takes him.
"Poor things," Lilia sighed, stroking Silver's locks as Sebek carried the boy on his back. Malleus still has your unconscious body in your arms. His expression is unreadable.
Sebek felt the guilt suffocating him but he remained calm despite the lodge in his throat. "M—Master Lilia—Young master—It...this is..." Sebek stammered, failing to grasp the appropriate words for a sincere pardon. Yet Silver's weight is just as heavy as his sins. Lilia, however, stroked his head. "Save your strength, little one. The best you can do for now is take Silver to the infirmary," the elder fae instructed.
Sebek only nodded and obediently abided.
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curedeity · 3 years
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 A Forest (I Won't Return)
Summary: Luna feels a forest grow around her feet. Or: how do Luna's powers work Pre-Series?
A forest faded around her feet, a clear sky crumpled as she opened her eyes. Rushing water spurted from the tap, draining out of her hands as she brought it up to splash her face. Wiping crust from the edges of her eyes, she pulled on her clothes and grabbed a piece of toast.
    Fingers clacked away at her keyboard, louder than the whispers that strained her ears. Her eyes drooped as she covered a yawn, the clock switching from morning to afternoon. Was someone calling her, there, obscured by foliage?
    “Luna!” Her brother shouted, dashing out of the hallway, his feet sliding on the linoleum. He wobbled, his axis of balancing tipping as he shoved a phone in front of her face. As they watched an interview of Jack Atlas, he kept up a running commentary.
    She grabbed her deck and shuffled through the cards, her fingers tingling as she touched them. Duel disks automatically shuffled cards, but Luna enjoyed doing it herself, feeling the edges scrape her thumbs as they fell down.
    Shuffle once, push the cards into a neat stack. Separate the pile, and do so again. 
    Repeat. 
    “Luna!” Her brother shook her shoulder, and her cards spilled out over the floor, flipping in the air and spiraling down. They scattered, like the p i e c e s of-
    What had she lost?
    Grass brushed against her fingers as she reached down to pick up her cards, dirt staining them. She hummed, and wiped them against her shorts, they’d be washed later.
    She placed her deck on the coffee table, and returned to work with a roll of her eyes, ignoring her brother. 
    2+2=4 and her memories added up to nothing.
    Her brother wanted to go out for lunch, but the thought of having to face the insufferable sounds of thousands of cars and to make out the whispers of hundreds of people made her curl up under her blanket. It would be so much nicer to live in a forest, wouldn’t it?
    They put on a movie instead, she let her brother pick. Sandwiches laid half-forgotten on the table, as she watched a person run away from everything they’d ever known, and make something new.
    Her arm itched, like there was a spider crawling upon it, like cat’s claws had raked down it. It burned, like when she accidentally touched the stove at 5 years old. She rinsed it off in the bathroom, watching the blood her nails had scratched out of it flow down the drain. She was looking into a pool of water, the sound of crashing waves ringing in her ears.
    Duel disks sat in the closet, hers gathering dust while his was taken out and polished every day. There was no need to use them, not between the two, they’d just kneel at the table.
    They didn’t duel often anymore, she couldn’t focus. He’d announce every move the two of them made, his words echoing in her ears as something tried to force its way into her skull.
    Her vision was always blurry, did she need glasses? Thick-rimmed and circular lenses, wire digging into her ears.
    Dinner was yogurt, they’d order out tomorrow. Her tongue was sickly sweet with the taste of fresh berries, oozing across it like she had bitten her lip and began to bleed.
    Had she?
    She went to sleep, wishing her brother goodnight as she pulled down on the metal chain of the lamp. Darkness enveloped her, and she easily drifted off.
    Drifted away.
    Her eyes snapped open again, heart thumping in her chest as breaths caught in her sticky throat. 
    Tip-toeing into the bathroom, she grabbed some tylenol and ignored her reflection in the mirror, or how mud caked her bare feet. 
    She laid back down in bed, flat on her back, the image of her familiar ceiling slowly coming into focus. Her brother’s snores filling her ears, not the chirps of some forgotten thing.
    She was here to stay.
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unrestedjade · 4 years
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fic writing meme: 1, 12, 17, 18, 21
Oh dang, that’s a lot! Think I’ll put this behind a cut to spare everyone’s dash.
1. The first fandom I wrote and posted for was Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. But! Somewhere in a landfill is a notebook with a very overwrought Animorphs fic about Ax falling in love with my very cool, original-character-donut-steel alien bat-centaur who can tell the future. Every day I thank the universe for not letting my family have internet access until I was 14. Actually, maybe the universe should have held out longer, but you can peep the cringe for yourself over here: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/173909/Fortuna
Yes, that is my old ff.net profile. My only regret is that I didn’t get a chance to back up my ask fics before the site suddenly decided to make a rule banning them and deleted them all. (Me, still salty over that 15 years later? Why, yes actually.)
12. A trope I haven’t tried yet but really want to? It’s hard to narrow it down; there’s a lot of “cliche” fanfic tropes I never let myself write that I want to indulge in this year. I’m thinking about finding one of those bingo cards to use or something. But since I grew up sneaking my mom’s romance novels, I think an arranged marriage would be fun to try if I have to pick just one.
17. The fic I’m most proud of should come as no surprise, lol. I still can’t believe I finished something as long and plotty as finaglc. Would love to manage it again someday. :’)
18. Line/scene dvd commentary: okay okay okay! So there’s this more-or-less abandoned DaphGan Legend of Zelda fic I was writing back in the day, that was just a loose serious of vignettes in chronological order. I had ideas for like 20 chapters and fizzled out because it turns out only about three people on the whole earth give a shit about DaphGan and I can’t write in a complete void of feedback. Anyway, I researched medieval boar hunting techniques because I desperately wanted an action scene culminating in a ~bad omen~ and here it is, so scroll by if you just want to see the last question in the batch:
Within minutes, they were deep enough that the forest canopy closed above them, far above Ganondorf’s head.  In the cool and the dim, and with the rustling of leaves in the breeze overhead sounding almost like waves, Ganondorf felt as though he were at the bottom of a great, ancient lake.  Mist lay in a thick blanket on the ground as high as the smaller horses’ barrels, and a carpet of dead leaves and needles deadened the sounds of their movement.  The hunters had fallen silent.   About that, he had no complaints.
(I recall being inordinately fond of the underwater imagery, because I’d been struggling for how to conceptualize a thick forest for a person who’s spent most of his life in the open desert.)
Save for ferns and scattered herbs, there was little in the way of troublesome plants or low branches beyond the border of the forest, and Ganondorf realized that King Daphnes’ suggestion the day before had, in truth, been polite censure of his clothing rather than any practical concern.  He frowned, and put the thought aside.  It did not matter.
(I was not at all subtle about the Hylians picking at the Gerudo envoy’s appearances, which I think I could handle a little better now, but alas...)
He thought instead on the many sounds surrounding them, his ears straining to hear every one.   There was birdsong, in patterns and notes he had never heard.  Small creatures rustled in the trees.  Water gurgled somewhere out of view.   The woods were full of life in every direction, and Ganondorf quietly marvelled at its richness.
All of this, for the sport of one family?
(This piece of writing is old enough that I was still using the now-defunct “two spaces after a period” rule, wow. Also, hello there, years-old misspelling. :/)
They kept to a walking pace for an hour or two, hushed but alert.  The dogs picked up a scent, the party wheeling around to follow after them.   Ganondorf rode alongside King Daphnes.  The man’s eyes were alight as he looked down the deer trail ahead of the dogs; a small smile of anticipation grew on his face.  "They have something, eh?” he said, in a whisper.  “What did I tell you!”
The lead dog threw its head back, baying.  It launched itself forward and the rest of the pack followed suit, tails held high like flags.
An enormous boar, all sinewy muscle and bristled hide, burst from a nearby thicket and was driven ahead of them.
“Aha!" The king spurred his horse to a gallop, the rest of the party just behind.  Ganondorf quickly found himself bringing up the rear.
The stallion seemed to find this as unacceptable as he did, for without his urging it picked up speed, long strides eating up the ground until the pair were level with the king once more.
(This bit started with the rest of the hunting party giving G-dawg mad shit for insisting on riding his stallion instead of a more appropriate horse, so I had to vindicate him, of course.)
Ganondorf’s eyes were now fixed on the boar.  He crouched low over the stallion’s neck, free hand fisted in the tangles of its mane.  They pulled ahead to run with the dogs, until even the dogs were falling behind them.
"Stay with it!"  The king’s bellow carried over the thunder of the stallion’s hooves.  "Keep running it!”
They ran.  The boar was fast and nimble, leading a chase through dense copses and over fast-flowing streams.  The world fell away until all that remained was the path they weaved through the trees, the rolling strength of the horse beneath him, the forest rushing by in a blur of green and loamy brown, and the boar.
Ganondorf laughed like a child, his heart light for first time since he’d come to this impossibly green land.
The chase ended when the boar made to leap over a fallen log and could not clear it, tumbling end over end.  The beast scrambled to its hooves, brandishing its long tusks.  It had reached the point of exhaustion, steam rising from its hide, muscles quivering with exertion.  It could run no longer.
Ganondorf held it at bay, keeping the point of his spear trained on it.  He did not wish to incite it to charge and risk his horse.  He simply looked at it, watching the boar watch him with wide, red eyes.  Foam gathered at its mouth, and he wondered whether it would die where it stood, if its heart had burst in its chest.
The baying of the dogs was not far off.  The hunters were closing in.
(Still a little puffed up over the juxtaposition of hunting being legitimately thrilling but cruel. Catch my bro getting swept up in the excitement.)
“Excellent work!"  Daphnes was at the head of the party, as he had been to start.  "Oh, well done, man!”
As the dogs circled, barking and snapping, the boar stood its ground, head lowered.  It made a few feints at the dogs foolish enough to attack, but as the hunters closed in it had less and less room to manoeuvre.   Ganondorf could see it rallying for a final effort, weariness flowing into terror and rage.
It roared, lunging, scattering the dogs.   Blood streaked its tusks.  A horse reared when its leg was cut by sharp hooves.  For a moment, it looked to Ganondorf as though it might break away again and escape.
In one practiced motion, Daphnes leapt from his horse and sunk his spear deep into the boar’s side.
Ganondorf’s racing heart froze.  Pain keener than any he had ever felt lanced through him, choking him on a silent cry.  He clutched at his chest, groping for the spear-head that wasn’t there.  His own spear fell from numb fingers to the forest floor.  Terror and agony, all-encompassing, swept over him in a crushing wave.
None of the other hunters noticed his distress.  All eyes were locked on their king’s struggle with the beast.  The boar screamed, running against the spear as if it would happily run the length of it to reach Daphnes with its final breath.  The cross-tree of the spear and the strength of the man wielding it kept the boar’s tusks far from its target, however, and for every drop of blood that spilled from its side a portion of its strength bled away with it.
After what felt far too long, the boar collapsed.  It’s screams had faded to rattling breaths, and when Daphnes stepped forward, knife drawn, it did not resist.
It was on Ganondorf that its red eyes rested when its throat was cut, in some mute accusation or seeking solace, he could not say.  The pain in his chest receded when the final gout of blood ran out onto the dark earth.  By the time Daphnes stood from his task, wiping his hands and blade clean on a rag, Ganondorf might have believed that the pain had been a trick of his imagination.
(This thing with the dead boar was meant to keep coming up in small ways throughout the rest of the vignettes as a harbinger of G-dawg’s ultimate failure and doom along with being an illustration of how he twists and suppresses himself for the sake of pleasing Daphnes, but of course it’ll probably never happen now since I’m five years out. I really did like this idea, though, and this scene was super fun to write. Except for now I’ve noticed another old typo. T_T)
21. The fic that got away? Lots; I actually have a horrible track record for finishing long fics. The one I’m most bummed out by, that I still think of from time to time, was actually a fill for the old Transformers Anonymous Kink Meme on LJ. It was Animated-verse pre-war Ratchet/Ultra Magnus with a detour into Ratchet/Megatron. I was about two thirds of the way done when something happened in the community that I can’t recall anymore derailed me, and I never ended up finishing it. Sometimes I think about scraping it off the meme to at least archive what I had done on Ao3 or something, but I probably won’t lol. It would take forever to track it down since this was back in like, 2012.
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raisedapeasant · 4 years
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°•°•°•° 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 °•°•°•°
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— an introductory solo. 
— read down the cut! ⇣
A tender kiss was placed upon her lips.
And just like the bloom of a flower in the morning light, the eyes of Briar Rose, or Aurora, fluttered opened slowly.
Before she’d fallen asleep, Briar Rose had felt like her life, all of her hopes and dreams were truly over because of the True Love that been denied to her by some betrothal to some prince she’d never met! How could she marry someone she had not laid her eyes upon? 
But as said eyes adjusted to the light and settled on the man she had dreamed of, the one she had danced with in the forest, a smile tugged at her lips, which still very much shamed the red red rose that she held between her fingertips. 
“It’s you…” she whispered. 
The fairies, very much overjoyed of getting their Rose back, cheered in the background and embraced themselves before they flew over to their adopted daughter and made themselves the size of an average human, though they still were short.
Flora, Fauna and Merryweather were quick to embrace the blonde, and the princess was more than happy to return the affection, sitting up on the mattress. 
She had a vague idea of what had happened. The curse that had been put on her as an infant had been explained to her on the way to the castle, and she remembered following a voice into the dark up a set of stairs. All of it against her will, of course.
So though she hadn’t been quite conscious to witness the stressful events, a few tears of relief and happiness were shed, and once her aunts pulled away, the blonde turned her attention back to her handsome prince, who took both of her delicate hands in his. 
Realization hit at that moment! She had never properly introduced herself.
“My name was… Briar Rose… when we met… However, as I have just recently come to understand... I was born Aurora… Princess Aurora. And that is how I shall be known from now on to many people, but... in your eyes, I should like to be both, if you’ll have me this way…”
The young maiden, who had just turned 16, might have been raised a peasant, but she was already speaking with the grace of the princess she was born to be. 
“I’m Phillip… Prince Phillip.” the young man answered with a nod of his head.
Once again, the blonde smiled and gave his hands a light squeeze as she got herself lost into his dreamy eyes.
“Phillip…” she repeated in a whisper.
That was the name of her betrothed, wasn’t it? So the man she had met in the woods, the one that had just woken her up with True Love’s first kiss… It was him all along? 
Oh, how happy she was now, to know that her dreams were once again coming true!
Music outside could be heard. The sound of trumpets, and cheers from subjects who rejoiced to know that their princess was returning. Her kingdom had woken up too, it seemed. 
As if understanding that was his cue, Phillip stood and offered her his hand, which the princess nervously took.
And she had all the rights to be nervous. It was not every day that one met the parents they had never known of, or stepped into the shoes of a royal.
But as she took his hand, most nervousness melted away. For even if they hadn’t known each other very long, she trusted him more than anyone else. Him, who had fought the evil spirit that was Maleficent, and all for her.
So, naturally, she let herself be guided down the stairs of the highest tower. He momentarily returned her to her temporary quarters, expressing his need for a change out of his clothes to something worthier of her. The compliment, of course, made the young maiden blush. He came back shortly after, looking as dashing as ever, and once again offered his arm to his betrothed. 
And together, they were off to meet King Stefan, Queen Leah and King Hubert. 
What happened next was an ever so touching reunion with the parents Aurora instantly loved and knew loved her unconditionally. She felt complete, and got to know the King and Queen more over quite a festive banquet that followed the blonde’s first dance as a princess. She learned that, even if they had been separated for such long years, she had taken after her mother in looks and different interests, while she had a bit of her father’s character in her personality.
While she sat at that table, Phillip by her side and her parents telling stories of their youths – with King Hubert providing commentary – Aurora’s heart filled with the most beautiful emotions she had ever felt. 
The ones that you get… 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚.
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wickednerdery · 6 years
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Title: Taste Author: @wickednerdery​​ Fandom: Tolkien/The Hobbit Pairing/character: Thranduil/Reader Rating: FRM Summary: “...I was curious of your taste.” Notes: This started as a random, vague, thought in my head and grew like a damned forest fire....There’s been a LOT of damn fine Lee Pace/Thranduil stuff on my dash recently, lol!! …Anyway gets a “Read More” cut because it’s NSFW and long (if you wanna get right to the dirty stuff, just skip to the second half, haha), lol!
It’d been long since I had the feeling of an outsider in my own home, but here it returned, strengthened, as the Elves of Mirkwood whispered about the firen among their guests. Some spoke in interest, some in worry, others insult, but all were careful to avoid me as a being. There would be no direct acknowledgement of my existence until the Elvenking had his say in it.
His statement was short; a cold raking of eyes over my body, a sigh, and a declaration to begin the feast of Ethuil.
After the feast there was wine and music and singing and dancing and I escaped it all to settle just beyond the walls to take in the night sky. These were not my people, but neither was Man. As a child I wondered what had made me so undesirable to the Edain that I would be left to die...at least with the Elves I knew. I did not shine, I did not flow or float through existence as they did. No matter how skilled, how poised, I was for my own kind I would always be flawed for theirs. And, one day, I would grow old and die.
“You are not attending my festivities.” The voice was glass-smooth, deep as a cave. “You do me great dishonor.” He hissed slightly in the last word so that I shivered into my turn.
He stood tall as an Anod with silken white hair and skin that shone in the moonlight. Rarely did I pay much mind to the appearance of Elves these days, but the king seemed beyond others of his kind. In iced eyes I gave up my voice in favor of controlling my body, denying myself the urge to touch what was forbidden.  
“You dare refuse to speak to a king?” He switched to the common tongue, perhaps thinking I could not speak Sindarin.
“Forgive me, your highness,” I lowered my head, snapped back into reality. “I did not dare to dream one such as yourself would speak to me.”
His breath suggested pleasure at my words, but his message was the same. “You are not attending my festivities. What am I to take from this?”
I raised my head, but not my eyes. “I fear am I not welcome. Not...not by you, your majesty, but by others. I do not belong, I know this. I did not wish to become a distraction to your celebration.” The words were placation, but only in their delivery. I knew I was a distraction, I knew I did not belong, and I did fear that I was unwelcome by at least some of the revelers.
“Look at me, Adaneth.” Thranduil ordered, I obeyed. “Your people are my guests, therefore you are my guest. I will not have my guests in an un-festive manner on the feast of Ethuil, it does not bode well for the new year.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
The Elvenking’s lips flicked up, then he began to lean. Down. In. The smell of fresh trees and wildflowers filled my nose as his breath became a cool breeze on my cheek. Once pressed, however, his lips were warm. Warm and soft and he turned into stars as everything around us went black.
I awoke wrapped in silk with the sensation of feathery clouds beneath. The only light came from the moon and the man settled as if upon his throne before me. “I am accustomed to the behaviors of the males of your race,” he soothed out. “But, tell me, do the females faint with frequency?”
His delivery was either in earnest or poorly executed jest and left me unsure how to answer. I begged forgiveness. “Goheno nin, Aran Thranduil.” I examined the bed born from a tree I’d been lain in, I examined the similar chair Thranduil lounged in, but I dare not look at the Elvenking.
“Are you frightened?”
“Ashamed.”
In a single, swift, move he was on the bed beside me. “Look at me.” I did. “Do not hide your shame from me again, Adaneth.”
“Yes, your highness.”
He closed in and I focused only on remaining still, with eyes open, as Thranduil’s scent again threatened to overwhelm. My breath held as soft lips again hit my skin; this time I could feel the warmth of them spread through me, pool in my belly. In his draw back his head tilted with interest and I saw it was a test, though of what was not clear.
“You smell, taste, of Ennor, is this always so?”
I shrugged, unsure what to make of the statement or the question that followed it. Elves could sense things I never could and their tastes were not always the same. I could not discern if this was a compliment, insult, or merely commentary...and I dared not presume any should I risk offense.
Thranduil leaned in, my breath held, and he paused. “Do you wish not to be kissed?
“I wish not to faint,” I blurted the confession so that his lips curled in amusement.
“Worry not, frail child, I would catch you as before.”
Reassuring hands cupped my face, added chill to compliment the heat of his mouth, as it sought and caught mine. While there were thousands of years experience to his actions, there was testing too. The kiss growing hard, demanding submission, before lightening into a tease, then back to dominating again. His tongue ran along my lips only to brush past in search of my tongue, teasing it, tempting it to follow his movements. He tasted heavily of wine and berried sweets.
I shuddered as a hand traveled down from face to collarbone to breast, whimpered when it pulled away. The iciness of his eyes thawed only to be replaced by a blue blaze as the tips of his fingers returned. There was a rush that soared through my veins, set bumps across my flesh, and propelled my lips to his.
Even in taking the initiative there was no doubting the king was in charge. The king whose touch turned into grab, grope, massage as nipples grew hard against the soft fabric that separated his skin from mine. The king who, so swift I cannot remember how, put me on my back with thighs spread to cradle his body. The king who, in a single rut across my body, released an excitement from within that I’d never felt.
A gasp escaped at the sudden wetness between my thighs, the stick of my slip against the back of my legs. His arousal was undeniable, pressing, grinding, against my pelvis. My hands fumbled to unclasp and unknot his tunic, expose marble skin to my hungry mouth; his hands tore, as if my gown were fân, and I arched when his mouth devoured bare breasts.
Perhaps I should have asked why - why me, why now - but I dared not speak lest I break the spell.
With hands moving up my dress, grazing across slowly exposed skin, Thranduil continued down the terrain of my body. His tongue, teeth, lips devoted itself to every peak and valley to be found until mouth met hands at the hips. “Edro.” He ordered and I obeyed.
“Gods!” I cried as his tongue slipped between my folds, flicked against the bundle of nerves only my own hands had touched before. The reaction pleased him as his cool laugh chilled before he repeated the act. My legs attempted to close in the overwhelming rush of his ministrations, but his hands quickly took the option from me. He held me down, still, opened wide for him to do as he pleased...as I pleased, begging to him and the Valar and every being in existence for him to never stop.
The heat of his mouth attended to my clit, kissing softly, then suckling at it, before letting cool air brush across it so that I risked jumping. His tongue lapped at my juices, drew teasingly around my entry, before dipping in to taste my arousal from its source.
I mewled, a hint of discomfort mixing with the pleasure, as a slickened finger replaced the tip of his tongue. My hips rolled on instinct; my desire fell to need as another finger stretched me. I could not speak, could not think, beyond my gasping arousal. The flame begun in my belly turned raging fire that spread throughout, drove tension into my muscles, flooded my cunt and thighs.
I saw nothing, heard nothing, as the blackness and stars threatened to take me over again. I felt only Thranduil - his fingers caressing a place inside I’d never known existed, his mouth tasting every ounce of me, his breath causing shudders - and my own heart pounding against my ribs. I arched in a high gasp, gripped the king’s sheets, and shook with such intensity I feared something was wrong with me.
As quickly as I was overwhelmed, I was relaxed in a way I’d not experienced before. I felt as if I finally understood the word bliss in its truest form. There was a whimper in my panting as the king pulled his fingers from me and I was left hollow.
“Thuio,” he reminded softly, sternly, as he settled to lay beside me. “I cannot abide you losing consciousness with every contact we make.”
My next exhale was a small laugh, then I grew hopeful. “There will be more?”
“Not tonight.” I frowned and it was his turn to laugh. “We’ve been gone from the festivities far too long.”
“What about you? Your desire?”
He kissed my forehead, then my lips, softly. “My desire is under my control.” It was a gentle reassurance before he stood and took care to reassemble his flawless appearance. “I will send someone with a new gown for you, do not worry or rush...you’ve fainted, remember?” There was a tint of a smirk to his lips.
“Thranduil...your highness?”
His brows arched expectantly.
“Why?”
“I told you, Adaneth, I was curious of your taste.”
He gave a long, slow, bow to me and swept out the door.
This is probably just a one-shot of naughtiness, but if I think of a good follow-up I’ll write it, I’m sure. And, yes, throughout I used Elvish - specifically Sindarin, which to the best of my research/recall is what Thranduil speaks - and I’ll put the meanings of the words at the bottom for those curious...and please don’t attack if I’m wrong on these, I used a few sites and, haha, I’m not an Elvish expert, lol!
Next Pieces: Scent, Sight, Sound
Not tagging anyone, but IF I write more and you want to be tagged, just let me know.
(The gif was found on Google and edited by me.)
Word Glossary (in order of usage):
Firen - human Ethuil - Spring, the first season of the Elvish new year Edain - Man, as in the species Anod - Ent, the trees that are people in The Lord of the Rings Adaneth - Woman, as in the female of the species Man Goheno nin, Aran Thranduil - translation: Forgive me, King Thranduil Ennor - Middle-Earth, as in not just earth/dirt, lol Fân - (basically) veil of clouds Edro - the imperative of open, as in it’s a command Valar  - "angelic powers" or "gods" subordinate to the one God Thuio -the imperative of breathe, as in it’s a command
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myradelphox · 2 years
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Has killed humans before while brainwashed by Latios. She doesn’t like talking about it, the nightmares still haunt her.
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kingofthewilderwest · 7 years
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Regarding the theory I ran across here about Whispering Deaths helping the decline in Night Furies. I would not discount the possibility that W. Deaths and Night Furies cohabit in same areas. Whispering Deaths are obviously an underground-type dragon, burrowing through dirt like moles. Night Furies meanwhile have a lot of bat characteristics: sleeping upside-down, echolocation, being nocturnal, even wing-body ratio. So they could get in fights over, say, a nice cave.
From this post. Sorry for taking so long to respond!
I do agree that the Night Fury has some minor bat-like characteristics in the sense that the Night Fury has echolocation abilities and that it sleeps upside-down. I do, however, suspect the Night Fury is a diurnal or crepuscular species; even before Hiccup befriended Toothless, the dragon was shown in the first movie as being awake during daylight hours. Furthermore, Toothless is frequently shown going to sleep at night and waking in the morning. While it is true that Toothless’ flight abilities make him the best at dissolving and hiding in the night sky, maybe meaning Night Furies are most active during dusk and dawn, we never see any indication of Toothless being awake all night or sleeping during the day - rather, we see the opposite.
Echolocation is also a trait that is not confined to caves. Echolocation can be and is used by species in more open expanses to search for food. Toothless’ echolocation could be used to fly in more open skies to search for creatures from his location above ground, or to navigate within forested areas, or to fly outside other locations than caverns. The echolocation ability itself does not entail a Night Fury lives in caves. In fact, during the filmmaker’s commentary in the first movie during the Battle of the Red Death, we receive this comment from Den DeBlois:
He [Alessandro Carloni] was the one that first imagined this battle up in the darkness of the sky where Toothless would really return to where he came. He came out of this dark sky and then he would return to it. And that’s where he really found his strength, was dashing back and forth in the darkness.
This battle takes place in the open but dark sky. Toothless is in his element here where he can rush about quickly without being seen. The filmmakers say that this location is where Toothless is in his element, not the cramped corridors of underground caves.
Toothless’ flight style is not one of being best served to navigate in caverns. The dragon is built for speed and has the top speed of any species known yet. Toothless’ adaptations allow him to easily glide, rather unlike bats, and suggests that the Night Furies live in more open environments than underground cave networks. Even his highly accurate, extremely explosive plasma blast ability is one that is suited for more open environments; I wouldn’t want that blast in cramped cave corridors!
So even though we see a Night Fury with echolocation and the ability to hang upside-down, I would not go so far as to say Toothless is so bat-like that his species would dwell in caves or spend times in caves. We do know the primary inspiration for Toothless’ design was a panther, but they obviously infused other elements of other species to make the unique patterns of a Night Fury. From what we do see of Night Fury adaptation, it does not seem like they would spend much time in caves - certainly not to the point that they are cohabiting the same areas so long that Whispering Deaths would regularly hunt Night Furies.
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wintersfamine · 5 years
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tag dump
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bullymagnet · 7 years
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DAY SEVEN: Hallways
WELL... i’m a little late on this one. but whatever! 
FINAL DAY! EXCEPT NOT REALLY! a story about a world where soulmates are connected through their dreams by hallways. soulmates can pass through these hallways, but to their mates, they’ll always appear invisible in this dreaming world unless they’ve met once in the waking world. max and johnny are in this one.
               This idiot’s found a hallway into your dreams again.
               That’s the only commentary your mind makes as a mid-sized sedan goes floating lazily past your head, slow enough for you to pick out the graffiti written on its side: “EAT QUARTERS DAILY.”
               … You’re sure that said something meaningful at one point, like “EAT A BUTT,” or “xxx-xxxx CALL ME,” but you’ve “known” them for years and your… friend doesn’t seem to get that writing in dreams changes like the wind and you’ve almost never been able to read one of their messages as they intended.
               Over what sounds like an intercom across the city streets you’ve found yourself in, a bootleg MIDI rendition of Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up begins to play.
               … Then again. That’s probably not very important to them.
               “Son of a mother,” you whisper, rubbing your temples in attempt not to completely lose it. “You have rick rolled me for the last time.”
               Kicking and punching your way through a spontaneously manifested pile of packing-peanut filled boxes blocking the sidewalk, you take a moment to give a scoff of fatigued laughter about your situation.
               Hallways into each other’s dreams, they all say.
              If you have a soulmate, then you’ll have these hallways. The appear through doors, windows, mirrors, swimming pools, Looney Tunes-esque holes- just about any classical or non-classical means of going through could potentially lead to a hallway into the sleeping mind of your soulmate.
               Even though there’s a hallway in every dream you have, they can be hard to find, so it’s pretty rare that you bother seeking them out and slipping in to visit your soulmate. Not nearly as often as they come through your side.
               You’ve never seen or heard them- that’s just how the connection works. If you meet them in the real world at least once, you’ll be able to. But if that doesn’t happen, the only dream traces of your soulmate when they come through the hallway are the colored footprints they leave…
               And the stupid things they do.  
               You bust through into an unpopulated storefront after being up to your ankles in ball-pit balls outside. It’s dim inside and mostly empty, but this is the place you’ve decided houses the controls for the intercom system. You briskly walk across the music-room-esque carpet and hop the counter to the computer, shutting off the grating music echoing through the streets as quickly as possible.
               Now… Well, they can’t hear your voice, so yelling over the intercom would do nothing. Sighing, you just type out a message for them on the keyboard. It follows:
               HEY IDIOT. WHY DON’T YOU MAKE LIKE A TREE AND FIND THE NEAREST DOOR, GET YOUR BUTT BACK THROUGH THAT HALLWAY AND GET OUT OF MY DREAMS. I’M IN A NEW TOWN, TOMORROW IS MY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL, AND I HAVE A LOT ON MY PLATE AS IT IS. HUGS AND KISSES, YOUR SOULMATE. PS STOP RICK ROLLING ME AND FIND A NEW MEME.
               You press enter, and you can hear the echoing voice of Microsoft Sam reading your message back to you out in the streets.
              You cross your arms and lean back. But the moment you relax, you hear a door swing open behind you. You turn to face it, and see a quick-fading trail of red footprints come through. The prankster themself.
               They stop for a moment, probably disoriented by the storefront you made up about three seconds ago, and probably by you. They take a step toward you, pause, and then a CD case materializes in front of where you imagine their face would be. It clatters to the floor, and they dash, leaving a hand print on the front desk as they book it toward the front doors.
               The doors swing open, and then close, and about five seconds later, a massive pile of snow comes down from the heavens, effectively snowing you in.
               God you hate them.
              You begrudgingly note, with a strange feeling in your heart, that you know you won’t, eventually, because that’s… also how this works. But for now. Yes.
               You turn around, shaking your head, and go to check out the CD case they left for you. You can’t make it out in the dark, so you scoop it up and squint down on it.
              On it is a terribly drawn spiky-haired smiling character that you sometimes see them draw, and an incomprehensible jumble of words that now says, “∞ SONGS?!???? ASTLEY.? beeb”  and must have at one point said something along the lines of, “RICK ASTLEY’S GREATEST HIT, BUT A LOT” because all else that’s on the CD case is a photo of Astley himself, winking sagely up at you.
               You wearily look up, studying the wall.
               You Cannot Imagine What Is On This CD.
               Your next morning is terrible.
               Apart from landing on a jerk’s face on your way to your first day of school, you woke up super late, you fell down the stairs a little, and you’re pretty sure all you managed to grab for breakfast was a can of soup and a bag of Pomegranate Thangs.
               But hey let’s get back to that landing on a jerk’s face thing right that part sounds interesting.
               The aforementioned jerk stands in front of you on the cracked sidewalk, miraculously alive and with a face covered in what you would assume was a tire track if you didn’t know it was the distinct imprint of your very own scooter, having indented his face not a minute ago. … Listen, you were texting while scooting, there’s a lot of ledges in this town… it’s actually a lot easier to accomplish than you’d think. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Well, you’re not, you feel pretty alright, but—
               “Okay kid,” the strange boy begins. “Listen up.” And you mutter under your breath that your name isn’t kid, it’s Max, but he doesn’t seem like the listening type.
              “You just landed on a very important face. Johnny’s face,” he goes on, and your brain takes special note of his name like it’s marking it off a grocery list. “My face.”
               He just keeps right on talking after that, but you kind of zone out to take him in. You’re probably not missing much. You’re pretty sure he fits right into the Bully character archetype.
               His hair is red. Bright red, and you’d say that it seemed kind of familiar, but you’re not psychic apart from the fact that your subconscious mind is forever linked to another human being’s. Your gay little brain says he’s handsome and you figure that’s true but would be more true if he wasn’t being so immediately intolerable in this moment. But it’s not that he’s drop-dead gorgeous or that he’s the most interesting man in the world, it’s something that you don’t quite knowingly notice but the narrative does. That you’re experiencing a kind of déjà vu that isn’t dizzying or vexing like it typically should be.
               That the moment you saw Johnny, you felt something unlock in your subconscious.
               … You think he just said he’s going to beat you up if you don’t give him 50 cents.
               It’s a strange two days that follows. You don’t get to sleep in the night that connects them.
              This school, this town- it’s like their culture, their social nuance, their infrastructure is just a few pixels askew from the lineart layer of reality. And in your first two round days here, you feel yourself sinking into the swamp of madness that is Mayview.
              Just about everyone you meet fits right into that madness, even the few “friends” that you make. But none of them seem to take quite as much utter glee out of being an agent of chaos as that Johnny.
              He does end up beating you up. Well, after an entire day of running away from him, you rise to his challenge… and then quickly un-rise. He beats you into the ground, essentially. That Bully archetype came with some pretty brute strength.
              He does give you a “life lesson” afterward, though.
              “Why take the maze,” he energetically asks, with shining eyes, as you wonder how many bruises you’ll be left with. “When you can bust on through the walls?”
              And it’s that lesson, his praise of your deciding to roll up your sleeves and accept his challenge to get beat up by him, and the special language of game-breaking logic that he seems to write and live by… that all seem intimately familiar to you. You’re not sure why.
              You think that’s probably because you’re already resigning yourself to a very long and very tiring fight-avoiding school year.
              He also breaks your scooter.
              The bulk of your second day goes off with about the level of interesting content you would expect in and that would likely be discussed at length had this story been a different medium and genre and universe.
              Though extracurriculars don’t hold you up until twilight like they did the first day, and housekeeping doesn’t hold you up indefinitely like the first night, you’re a pretty popular dude, and it’s not until about 3 AM that you manage to get the opportunity to sleep.
              But once you do, you’re out like a light.
               The vineyard you find yourself on is surrounded on all sides by thick, coniferous forest that seems to go on forever, but you can still taste the salt water in the air, and you can hear the waves and the seagulls of a beach that doesn’t seem to exist. You’re quick to realize it’s a dream.
               You get to your feet and brush the sand off your clothes, ducking under a low-hanging grape vine. You can see a beach house up ahead, and without much else to do but wander the acre of grape trellises sticking up out of the sand, you head toward it.
               The front door is unlocked when you reach the porch, so you walk into the house. Inside, the lights are off but it’s illuminated just fine by the daylight streaming in.
               You meander through the nautical-themed building. Nobody’s home. It’s not typical for you to be swarmed with dream characters in lucid dreams anyways. For now, you see what kind of interesting stuff is around here.
               After several rooms of treasure chests and seashell-covered guest beds alike, you walk by a rose-colored open door with a gaping wardrobe in the room inside. The wardrobe wouldn’t be so remarkable, though, without the homage that lies inside its open maw. There’s a hallway in there that breaks the laws of space. Your soulmate’s hallway. And so obvious, too.
               You cautiously walk into the room. Apart from the wardrobe and a screen door leading out onto the beach house’s back deck, it seems to be pretty empty. You approach the hallway wardrobe and peer inside. The wood floor is waxed and the tacky wallpaper is the same the whole way to the end. And there, down about twenty or thirty feet, is the open door of your soulmate’s mind. Green sky and yellow clouds.
               You can’t help but smile a bit and snort. Oh boy. They’ve been through here. Prepare for trouble.
               Turning around, you breathe to nobody in particular, “Guess I have…”
               You trail off. Turns out you failed a perception check and the room isn’t quite as empty as you thought it was. In the other half of the room, standing awkwardly in the middle of the dusty floor holding a boombox, is Johnny.
               “… Guests,” you lamely finish.
              He’s dressed in boxers and a Superman shirt, and he’s staring unblinkingly at you. He drops the boombox in his arms and it fizzles out of existence. He is very still.
              “Oh, great,” you mutter, bemused. Make it double. “Like I needed a Johnny on top of this.”
              He furrows his brows and breathes something, a one word question that you can’t make out from across the room. Wow, you’ve never seen the real him think this hard. The way he looks at you… it’s strange.
               Whatever. Dream characters are always weird. Johnny is extra weird.
               Deciding to clear the area before things kick off, you make a casual beeline for the screen door and the deck beyond it. From the corner of your eye, the dream Johnny tenses up the moment you begin taking steps again.
               “H-Hey. Hey!” You glance back. He steps toward you hesitantly. His eyes are locked on you and the ground behind you like homing missiles or something. “Max… Who’s dreamin’ about you?!”
               “No one’s dreaming about me,” you sigh, almost automatically. “I’m dreaming.”
               And you keep walking.
               And you stop walking.
               That question. That’s a really specific question. You pause in front of the door for a moment, just thinking, before looking over at him. He’s still gaping at you. His eyes are as wide as saucers and intense. You turn to face him fully, and squint.
               There on the floor, where he’d just taken a few steps toward you, are several fading red footprints.
               Nope. No way.
               Your thoughts are racing, but your words come out almost calm, however firm. “Johnny… are you a dream character?”
               His eye twitches. He sort of absentmindedly grabs the sides of his boxers in his fists. “Wh-what’s that mean?”
               You inhale and exhale.
               “Johnny,” you begin again, very slowly and very carefully. You take a few steps toward him. “Where did you come from.”
               Bit by bit, like his body is lagging behind his mind, he raises his arm and gestures over your shoulder with his finger, pointing toward the rose-motif wardrobe and the plain, stretching hallway within.
               And he says, confused and mystified like he’s unraveling a riddle and as his wide eyes seem to take the whole of you in like this, right here, is the first time he’s actually seeing you, “The hallway.”
               The hallway.
               Johnny, the boy you met by nearly concussing with a metal scooter. Johnny, who chased you three blocks down Mayview trying to beat the snot out of you, one as a member of a human totem pole. Who later beat the snot out of you (not as a member of a human totem pole). Who not only gave you change for the money he extorted and advice after he beat the snot out of you, but advice that you employed. Who is vexingly somehow the most irritating being you think you’ve met to date, but whose powers of frustration never stopped you from considering him handsome. Johnny, the energetic boy with the loud gang and the loud red hair and the fictionally golden eyes and the devious smile who may as well be the human equivalent of a far-too-hyper inferno.
              Johnny came through the hallway.
              Johnny’s your soulmate.
              You’ve gotta be kidding you.
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myradelphox · 1 year
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“I already dress as a witch all year, so that’s what I’ll be dressing as. Can’t get more ‘witchy’ than that.”
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myradelphox · 2 years
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“I may be late to join this but I’m 1,90m (6′3) tall. Why did the humans suddenly decided to share their heights? Is it some kind of competition?”
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