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villainessprefect · 1 year

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title: The Game We're Playing and You're My Target

summary: Idia has three hours to survive at a party. Easier said than done. At least he can hang out in the garden...with Azul? Yeah, Azul is there too.

ship: Idiazul

word count: 2,643

Read on AO3!

Parties are a total war zone. All the extroverts are running around, greeting each other, and participating in mindless mingling. For an introvert, it means avoiding as many people as possible. After you give your forced introduction it's time to make a getaway. There's no time to hang around out in the open and wait for those normies to pounce on a poor soul.

Thankfully, all Idia needs to do is survive for three hours. The counter started the minute he stepped foot onto these overly fancy grounds and he made sure that the second his time was up, he'd disappear. It's not like anyone would miss him anyway. That excuse is easy to use to try and slip away earlier, but he can't after making a promise to Ortho.

"Just for a few hours? Please, Idia?"

When Ortho gave him those pleading eyes, he couldn't say no. And boy does he regret it.

On the bright side, he knows the venue inside and out. When prepping for the big night, Idia made sure to know all the secret getaways, the hidden hallways, the backdoors, any where to get out of the bigger and more populated areas for the night. And that helped with his first hour.

Idia only promised to be at the party, not to socialize.

The voices of people he could care less about were all drowned out by the music blaring through the speakers. Even while out in the gardens, Idia could hear the annoyingly modern music. As much as it wasn't to his tastes, it did provide as nice background noise. Wandering through the garden, he found a nice spot to relax. A secluded area that he doubts anyone would venture out to. It might not be as ideal as finding an empty bedroom to hide in, but it was better than nothing.

As Idia takes a seat on the white marble, golden eyes glance over to the main building. He huffs.

"I don't need to be with those normies," he mutters. "It's not like they need me to be there anyway. My tablet would have just been fine and I could have remained as some mystery character. The top-tier characters get all the attention anyway."

It's easy to imagine Vil stealing the show. An SSR character like him is in his natural habitat in a place like this. Plus he has the beauty to flaunt while being on stage for a crowd. Honestly, the school should have only sent him instead of all the housewardens. But, whatever.

A hand plays with his blue flames. His hair had been put up to look...decent instead of its usual mess. It's fine, he doesn't mind it, but he hated the looks he got on the way here. With his other hand, he whips out his phone. His gaze automatically goes to the time. An hour and a half left. That gives him time to grind before a game resets for the day.

"Agh, I should have just let this run on a script at home..." He murmurs. "Could have gotten some more EXP."

Idia sighs as he finishes the usual tasks. He could do more but it's monotonous and repetitive if he isn't doing something else. And the only other thing option is going back inside while letting this run. Yeah, no. Not doing that. It doesn't help that it barely ate a few minutes off the clock.

"My, my, I should have known I'd find you out here."

"Eep!"

Idia is quick to jump to his feet. Hands gripping his phone for dear life as he steps away from the source of the new voice.

"Azul?" He relaxes once their eyes meet. "I didn't know you could jump-scare someone. What are you doing out here?"

"Enjoying the scenery." Idia scoffs. "What? Don't believe me?" Azul says with an obviously feigned sad expression. "Even I have to escape from the scene every now and then."

"You? Make an escape? The only reason you'd get away is if you were losing at your own game."

"You wound me, to think I'd ever let that happen."

Idia hates that he has to agree with him on that. Azul knows people, knows what they want, and knows how to get what he wants from them. As far as he's aware, Azul has never failed in making a deal. His completionist stats were always 100%.

"There's a first for everything..." Idia mumbles as he returns to his seat. Not even this interaction took up a few minutes. When had time ever been this slow? Not even his MMO updates were this painstakingly long.

Idia doesn't think to give Azul any more attention, not until he hears the other's footsteps. Heels click against the tiles leading toward him. He sighs and looks up.

"Your brother would be disappointed seeing you out here."

"Erk!" Idia winces. That was a critical hit! "Y-Yeah..." He gulps. "W-What are you going to do? Tattle on me like some middle schooler?"

"I'm not that petty. Of course, I'd only resort to it if necessary."

Idia frowns, not liking the sound of that.

"How about this? Offer me your time out here and I'll remain silent about your failure to your brother's expectations."

"I think even he has low expectations for me..." Idia says. He knows otherwise. Ortho would be cheering him on every step of the way. But being in there? With so many people? No no no no. He needed to take baby steps first. Get comfortable at housewarden meetings, maybe go to a school event without needing to run off. Being thrown into a party was just like sending a level 1 newbie into the final boss's lair. "Do what you want."

"I'll take that as a yes."

With that, Azul takes a seat beside Idia. He sits close enough that their legs nearly touch, leaving only a small space between them. Neither seems to mind, both are comfortable with each other to be this close. Idia fiddles with his phone, trying to be preoccupied with something to make the time tick by faster. If only downloading a new game wouldn't take so long then he could at least have something to do. He's close to resorting to doing a ten-pull on his previous game out of pure boredom. He doesn't even like the current character's banner, but he wants something to do.

"If you're that bored, you know we could always do something while we're out here."

Idia hates how Azul picks up on his habits. Perhaps he'd been too obvious by swiping back and forth on his phone, or he just knows how he is. How long have they known each other? And how long have they been hanging out outside of class and club activities? It's hard to say.

"Like what? Touch grass?"

"While I think that is something you should do," Azul pauses as he gets to his feet. "Perhaps a walk would be better? That wouldn't hurt."

Idia is about to decline but sighs. He feels like he's lost this game before he's even started it. No excuse could get him out of it. So, he silently puts his phone away and stands.

He lets Azul lead the way. Idia keeps his head down, hands in his pockets. Despite the formal attitude needed for a party like this, he doesn't feel as tense as he should. If he were inside, alone, and surrounded by too many normies, he'd be having a heart attack. But out here? Being with Azul and the comfort of the cool air, and silent winds. It's comforting. He's not alone as he would like, but he feels at ease with Azul.

They pass by a small pond, one decorated with intricate statues. It reminds Idia of a game, a save point area specifically. The music was really pleasant, a gentle piano tune drifting through the air. It brought a sense of comfort after a long and hard fight. He remembers searching for the song immediately and putting it in a playlist for a later day.

"You're smiling," Azul points out.

"Eh? N-No I'm not!" Idia is quick to cover his mouth with his hand and turn away from him. Azul chuckles.

In an attempt to gain some distance between him while getting rid of his little embarrassment, he makes one mistake. A misstep. He hadn't calculated the difference in height between the pond's outer marble layer and the grass, thus leading to his ultimate downfall. He feels his body begin to fall, gravity pulling him down to meet his demise. If this is how he's supposed to go out, then it's a pretty lame way to go. A tragic and uncool death by falling into a shallow pool of water and hitting his head while all dressed up.

Didn't this happen in a game once? Would Azul be suspected of murder? Why couldn't he have just stayed home tonight? Is Vil singing that one song he did at the SDC right now? Why does he know that song? Were Azul's eyes always so pretty?

Whoever said your life flashes before your eyes before you die is a liar because his mind is running a mile a minute about everything else. Then again, he isn't dying. Or falling.

Something, or rather, someone, had stopped his ungraceful death. A hand grips his with all its might and then yanks him forward. It's so sudden that his mind goes blank. Especially as his body collides with Azul's.

"Idia," Azul breathes. His pretty ocean-like eyes were on him. "You should be more careful where you step."

Idia gulps, unable to speak. His heart racing from his (not) near-death experience and being so, so close to Azul. Their bodies are still pressing against each other, their noses only inches apart, hands still clinging to each other.

What kind of flag did he just raise? More importantly, how did he end up in a route like this?!

"Are you okay?" Azul asks, tone softer than earlier, gaze too.

"Y-Yeah!" Idia squeaks out, finally finding his voice. His hair flicks wildly, flashing pink at the tips. He unintentionally squeezes Azul's hand for support. He tries to find his footing now that he's processing everything and finds Azul's other hand placed carefully against his back, keeping him in place.

"Trying to escape me now?" Azul hums with a teasing look. That soft and trustworthy look is gone. Maybe he was imagining things- did Azul really look concerned about him earlier? "After I just saved your life too?"

"Th-That's the worst outcome. If anything, I just ruin my outfit and have to leave earlier than I'm supposed to."

"Oh? Perhaps I should allow you to test your fate then." To tease him, Azul tips Idia back. His hold is firm, but Idia can't tell if he's being serious or not. In a panic, Idia lets go of his hand and wraps his arms around Azul, clinging onto him for dear life. Even if he would like to go home early, it wasn't worth looking like a wet mess in front of Azul.

"D-Don't!" He yelps. Idia glances back to the water to make sure their distance remains the same. When he's certain that Azul isn't going to throw him back, he lets out a sigh. And then it hits him.

Idia is practically embracing Azul. While his arms remain around the other boy, he pulls back enough to catch Azul with pink cheeks.

"You're so bold, Idia," he says. He's trying to sound confident, but his tone lacks the same finesse it usually carries.

"I-It's not like..." Idia bites down on his lip. Azul's grip has loosened and he can escape from him if he wishes. But he doesn't.

"I don't mind this," Azul breathes.

"Huh."

"This. Being here with you." Azul mumbles and boldly press forward, destroying the little space between them. "Perhaps you enjoy it too? That's why you don't mind me out here. Or being in my arms."

Idia fumbles for an excuse. His mind tries to think of something, but this sudden event is leaving him with nothing to work with. There was no filled heart gauges in his vision or options that clearly led him down this route. But now he's here. And instead of being the protagonist, he feels like he's the capture target. Literally.

All he knows is their lips are about to meet. He can feel Azul's breath against his skin. Smell that sweet lavender that has a hint of the ocean he comes from. At this close, he can really see how his eyes sparkle like the waves of the ocean, the moonlight making them shimmer at just the right angle.

"I-If this continues...I-I'm going to ruin this night for you," Idia mumbles just before their lips can meet. His hands grip tightly onto Azul, fingers digging so deep into his blazer that it might just rip. Azul's hesitation upon hearing him speak is enough to let Idia turn his head to the side. Pink flames end up grazing his lips instead. "Y-You don't want that."

Azul huffs and pouts. He's upset by the sound of it. What did he do to upset him?!

"And what do you know about what I want, hm?" Azul raises a hand to grip Idia's chin, making the other boy face him. Tears prick at the edges of those beautiful golden eyes. As embarrassed as he may be, those tears don't help his situation, if anything it's a pathetic sight that Azul loves dearly.

He grins, proud, and then presses his lips against his cheek.

"The only thing you can ruin is the win streak I have against you," Azul whispers into his ear. He feels the other shudder and clings onto him with a little whimper.

"Azul..." Idia feels weak in his hold. Hot, bothered. His body might just overheat at this rate. It makes him feel like he should do something, reciprocate, at the very least. But no matter how many times he clicks on the action icon, his body doesn't move.

And then his phone explodes with an obnoxiously loud song.

With some amazing force, Idia manages to free himself from Azul. His time here was up and he didn't need to be in this final boss round any longer. Idia doesn't even mumble an apology as he makes his escape. All he wants to do is get out of here and set his thoughts straight.

Azul sighs and puts a hand on his head, rubbing it. He knew 'conquering' Idia, as he would have put it, wouldn't be easy. But tonight was a perfect chance to try. He even factored in a time limit, which is why he excused himself fairly early from the party. The only thing he didn't factor in was Idia having an alarm for his departure.

It's even worse that he can still hear the tune. He wishes that he could silence it forever, and ban that single song from all of Octavinelle while he's at it.

A light on the ground catches his attention. The source of the music comes from it as well. Azul bends down to pick up Idia's phone. With a press of a button, the garden falls silent. As he sees his own reflection against the phone's screen, he chuckles.

"There's a tale just like this, isn't there? A princess running away from a prince yet leaving behind something important." Azul hums as he pockets the phone. He's certain that Idia will figure out it's missing sooner or later and this is a piece of technology that he needs. Azul knows Idia. He knows the other will try to hide from him, but with this little bargaining chip, perhaps they'll run into each other sooner rather than later.

#twisted wonderland #twst #idiazul #azulidi #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #idia x azul #ignihyde #octavinelle

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egirlgarak · 10 months

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this is Quite late, but @kulliare tagged me in this so i am now putting my responses under a read more, approximately 23 years later.

tagging @vexedandperplexed @spectraling @gingerteaonthetardis @chaotictomtom and @breaddo only if y’all want!

Were you named after anyone?

My birth names are a variant of a name that has been passed down on my mom’s side of the family for several generations. basil, though, was just a name i gathered one day, tried it out, and it stuck.

When was the last time you cried?

this morning, with my mom in the bedroom. (grandma has severe dementia and it’s Just Rough)

Do you have kids?

FUCK no <3

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

define: a lot. i am a silly guy, so it’s not above me to make sarcastic comments, but not more or less than my fellow citizens methinks

What sports do you play/have you played?

last time i played a sport i was genuinely like 7 years old. i took dance/was on the drill team in high school, but once i got into college, most of my time was dedicated to course work. being a music major really does not let you do too much else.

What's the first thing you notice about someone?

if they’re tall(er than me), especially if they’re fem presenting. otherwise, i guess i’d say wether or not a smile reaches their eyes.

Eye color?

brown

Scary movies or happy endings?

i can do both, but i usually lean towards thrillers/horror

Any special talents?

when i’m not around other classical musicians, I say I’m an opera singer. when I’m around other classical musicians, I tell them i’m really good at saying no <3

Where were you born?

texas. yeehaw etc etc

What are your hobbies?

media consumption. language study. day dreaming about being a little bird who’s sunning his feathers by a nice lake

Do you have any pets?

two black cats! one is my brother’s, her name is magpie. the other, my little baby girl, my princess, my plumberry sweetie pie darling angel, albatross. behold. magpie (left) albatross (right):

How tall are you?

6 ft. still remember the first time i met one of my online friends and she looked up at me with awe and just says something along the lines of: “wow….you’re huge” honestly best possible feedback to receive from another trans person u like and trust. also gave me Gender, which? still not sure what to do with that aside from thank the universe for giving huge guy genes to the dude with silly little guy neural circuits

Favorite subject in school?

high school doesn’t apply here, just because i felt stupid the entire time that i never got to enjoy anything. but that being said, in university, i looooved taking italian. i have Some Scraps of knowledge left, but i remember loving it immensely, at least. i also really enjoyed the few semesters i sang in my uni’s early music vocal ensemble. that shit changed my life, genuinely. there’s so much nuance to that style of music. i think a lot of people can’t hear the appeal but man. give me some medieval recorder. a fuckin. cantiga or two. maybe we even pull out some baroque instrumentation; a funky little continuo line w a little portative organ action. i love it, man. my work as a professional opera singer has been mostly early music, and i’ve loved every fucken second.

Dream job?

despite pro opera exp, i’m not entirely sold on following that as a career option?? i’ve been floundering since 2020, honestly. but just as long as i have a flexible job that lets me enjoy being alive both in and out of the workspace, i’m good. my last few jobs were Not That, but meh. there’s still time to figure it out.

#bas.txt

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kaerran · 1 year

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i sure have had a lot of dnd posts (especially about the movie) come across my dash and man my experiences are nothing like the typical

my Actual DnD campaigns (as opposed to any other system) were:

1) a... probably 2nd ed campaign with a very established party (like they were on their second high levelled characters and their first ones were gods or something) and they let me play a half-dragon (NOT dragonborn, which i’m not sure existed yet?? wiki says they only were created in 2006 in a 3.5 supplement and i’m sure this campaign happened before 2006) because i’d be so behind anyway, and i remember nothing else besides having a great deal of fun. i didn’t get to keep that sheet and i’m still sad

2) a 1st ed campaign run by my dad, which featured me (a cleric/ranger), my mom (newly buddhist and therefore playing a mostly pacifist [refused to kill people, refused to ambush anyone] monk), my sister (thief), and 3 friends (i honestly don’t remember what my sister’s friend played but my friend played a wizard and his friend played a paladin), which featured such things as: I was the only one who rolled decent enough stats to play and therefore I was the only one without an 18 (because after that debacle dad gave everyone a premade set to distribute), we also all had psionics (dad kept claiming he rolled them legitimately and only one person DIDN’T get them but later admitted that in actuality i was the only one who DID roll ‘em) which over-supplemented our actual characters (i could heal and speak to animals psionically, so i literally never healed with my cleric spells, the thief and monk both could go invisible but mom refused to use it to actually sneak attack), and he was giving us all REALLY DIFFERENT exp via passed notes (he was giving me nearly double exp partially because i was actually rping lawful good and also to ensure that i wasn’t falling behind, and he was massively penalizing the paladin for playing the world’s worst paladin)

3) a 4th ed campaign where i was playing a warforged... something...... and i spent the entire time just so uncertain of what was going on i learned nothing. it’s a bit of a shame because mayan robotstatue was kinda fun (ok not really mayan, but i took the name from my then-recent mesoamerican classes for funsies)

4) i am brand newly in a 5th ed campaign where i’m playing a dragonborn thief, which sure is a funny pairing but i saw dragonborn and went “soooo can i?” and tat said sure! have fun! my parents are playing a human ranger/sorcerer and a half-elf bard (and both of them are struggling with spell and cantrip choices), and then there’s also a dwarf warrior and i THOUGHT nadia was playing a gnome wizard but she is actually playing a tiefling druid? this is fine. we may or may not have another person joining we’ll see. his character is not in the google docs folder yet. we’ve had one session and it’s gone okay, but i’m having to Adjust from my other group’s mostly narrative style to actual dnd’s actually-pay-attention-to-the-dm style (and actual initiative! it’s so weird i’m used to our made-up-on-the-spot-because-the-system-forgot-to-specify-how-to-determine-initiative card draws)

the point is: uhhhh i don’t actually know what spells exist (which is a thing i’ve seen several times re: the movie, that you can identify the spells and i’m like lol no i can’t) or how most groups play or even how most games flow

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olivereactsaboutgarbage · 1 year

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One Piece Chapters 193-201

Oh... I’m stopping at Chapter 201, am I... that’s a little silly... that’s a little goofy...

Chapter 193 - Utopia

Nami declares that she doesn’t mind if the female member of Team Large is a pain in the foot, and kills her using birds.

Meanwhile, what Mr. Zero wanted was power. Obviously. This kingdom has something scary in it, which is the only reason Mr. Zero even cared.

Oh yeah, and Zoro is also fighting a sword. Zoro says that winning this battle will earn him enough EXP to level up.

Chapter 194 - Cutting Steel

Huh? The sword’s not even Lufpy yet he can do his fingers like that? What a freak...

In the past, Zoro gets disappointed at his mentor’s inability to remove pages themselves from the very pages within which those pages exist. Jeez, Zoro’s standards are way too high...

In the present, Zoro starts listing off cool things he’s not planning on doing while casually lifting a house. ...Oh, wait, he actually IS planning on doing them. He’s just too shy to let anyone see.

Chapter 195 - Mr. Bushido

Zoro throws the house and turns it into cubes! Just like that one anime director. Then he fights the sword some more. I don’t know what the cubes had to do with anything.

The sword does that Kars thing where his arm which is a sword is way too spinny to classify as a sword, let alone an arm.

Zoro gets thrown at a pillar, then the next attack against him destroys the pillar. Continuing the JoJo metaphor, it’s kind of like Zoro is a frog.

“And now that everything around me IS eerily silent rather than NOT being eerily silent, I am continuing to have this feeling!” That’s what Zoro says next.

Zoro demonstrates that he has the inherent Sword Wielder Power to notice all objects. Because he can notice whatever, he can now destroy it. Therefore he wins

Chapter 196 - 1

Chapter 195

I... don’t even know what to say about this. I’m just... looking at it.

It turns out four guys are doing “suicide attack” tactics.

They die

Someone else also

Chapter 197 - The Leaders

The primary male child shows up.

This can be a reaction image too if it wants to be. I won’t use it but maybe someone will.

Now it’s time for the princess and the primary male child to end the war, maybe.

Next, the primary male child gets shot in the chest as part of a clever “the surrender was a ruse” ruse.

Chapter 198 - 4:15 p.m.

And in five minutes... I will have finished this chapter.

More bloodshed happens. Also, one of Mr. Zero’s signature storms also happens.

Did I mention that the whole palace was gonna get exploded? I took a really eventful break in the middle of writing this post and forgot if I mentioned that.

The princess gets Frickin Dangled

Then the arm Mr. Zero is using to Frickin Dangle the princess accidentally stops existing. Well, I’m sure she’ll be fine.

There’s a bird. And Lufpy. That’s good!

Heh... five minutes exactly.

Chapter 199 - Hope!!

Okay I haven’t been mentioning it but the weird misty thing is continuing to happen to speech bubbles.

Anyway, after a pleasant get-together, Lufpy punches Mr. Zero and it actually connects. Lufpy’s secret is: Water... wet sand is less sandy than dry sand, so you can kill it.

Chapter 200 - Water Luffy

Some goons show up who Zoro and Sanji decide will take a couple seconds to deal with.

Lufpy and Mr. Zero are doing a fight where Lufpy actually has a chance of winning. Lufpy also has an extreme version of one of those beer can hats for Ultimate Winning.

Mr. Zero says that if Lufpy can’t pull off a Donkey Kong-style victory, he’ll surely lose. Lufpy decides to keep him guessing by destroying any chance he had of pulling off a Donkey Kong-style victory, instead activating Water Balloon Mode from Kirby and the Forgotten Land and giving himself the possibility of a Kirby-style victory.

Chapter 201 - Nico Robin

Oh, this is the Nico Robin chapter? The famous Nico Robin from One Piece? Maybe this actually WAS a better chapter to end on than 200.

Nico Robin wants to go to the important thing this kingdom has. Not the alleged weapon, the other thing.

Not only his luck... even Lufpy’s hearing has run out! He will be deaf for the remainder of the manga.

Mr. Zero does the only thing Uraraka has ever done in My Hero Academia.

Nico Robin encounters the palindrome cop. Nico Robin’s tragic backstory is that she was a tiny baby who made ships sink. I mean it’s tragic for boat enthusiasts, not for herself.

Lufpy gets Frickin Dangled

#one piece #is what i'm consuming

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two-gays-in-a-trenchcoat · 2 years

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POV: you’re comforting the twst characters <333

You’re welcome <333 -ramones

Part one: Heartslabyul

RIDDLE

Riddle sort of curls up against you, burying his face into your shoulder to hide his tears. His fingers play with anything and everything he can reach—your hands, his pen, the hem of your shirt—because he needs something to hold, something to tell him that he’s still there, that it’s okay.

You give him your hand, which he squeezes. He’s shaking, you realise. You pull him closer, wrapping your arms around him. To you, in this moment, he is not the formidable housewarden of Heartslabyul. He is not the Riddle Rosehearts everyone sees.

He is just Riddle. Your little heart.

You hold him, whispering into his ear, telling him that you’re here for him, that he doesn’t have to be perfect and that he won’t hurt you by needing help. You promise him strawberry tarts and a midnight tea party for just the two of you, with honey instead of sugar cubes, even though it goes against the rules.

Eventually he raises his head, a tiny smile on his face, red eyeliner streaming down his cheeks. You snort and wipe it off with your sleeve, gently helping him up, holding his hand tight to let him know that you’re still there.

ACE

Ace’s tears are silent.

You can always tell something is wrong with Ace when he’s quiet. The boy—though you love him—never shuts the fuck up. So when you hear a knock at your door late at night after a day of unusual silence, you’re expecting him. You don’t ask, because he won’t tell.

All he wants you to do is be there with him, to make him pretend nothing is wrong.

You sit on the floor with him basically in your lap, one hand in his hair, your chin on his shoulder. Unlike Riddle, he doesn’t want movement. He can’t have his hands be busy. Instead they are clenched over his face, nails digging into his palms. You take them gently,

pacing your fingers with his in an attempt to keep him from hurting himself. He doesn’t react, but you know he will be grateful later.

Leaning close to his ear, you whisper a stupid joke. A choked laugh bursts from him and you see a tiny bit of that typical Ace grin, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Soon enough, it will. It always does. He’ll stay the night with you, hiding away from his frustrations with Riddle and who knows who or what else, then be his regular beaming, bouncing-off-the-walls self in the morning. He doesn’t have to thank you—he shows his gratitude through making you tea and breakfast. You eat it, even if it tastes bad, because you know he put his whole heart into it.

DEUCE

Deuce doesn’t want hugs or jokes or comfort—he just wants to be around you. He’ll

come to your dorm and sit on the floor with you and Grim, completely silent, holding a card game or something of the sort. Nothing strategy based—you and him will just play War for hours in silence. Grim usually leaves thirty minutes in, but you stay because you know.

You know that something is wrong.

And sure enough, not long after Grim leaves, you can see the poker face Deuce had kept up for the past hour slipping away, his cheeks reddening, lip trembling. He keeps turning his head to cough, but you’re not stupid—you know he’s wiping away tears he doesn’t want you to see.

You give him a soft smile, then place down another card; the Two of Spades. He quickly plays another over it and plucks it from the floor, giving you a strained grin. You keep playing, not because you want to distract him but because continuing will let him know that you care, that you are trying.

After all, playing to win will keep him there longer.

Sure enough, you win and he demands a rematch, and when he wins that you see his familiar triumphant smile and his single dimple.

Deuce doesn’t need hugs or jokes or comfort—your presence alone lets him know that everything is going to be okay.

TREY

Trey hates feeling like he’s bothering anyone, but he knows that he can go to you in

times of need. After all, you were there for him before.

He comes to you late in the evening. You open the door expecting it to be Ace or Deuce but instead find him there, eyes swollen and red, holding a tiny chestnut tart for two.

The two of you sit on the couch, lit by just a candle, sharing the tart off of the same plate. It’s a little salty, but it’s not the oyster sauce that he always jokes about. No, you know why it’s salty, and he will tell you all about it. He leans against you, the words flowing from him. He isn’t crying—his tears have long been spent—but you can hear the pain in his voice. The pain of watching Riddle dig himself into a hole of perfectionism again, taking out his frustration on everyone around him. The pain of taking the fall for all of Heartslabyul’s complaints.

He can’t deal with it all by himself.

So he comes to you. You talk over a chestnut tart, just like the one you all made together at the beginning of your stay at Night Raven. He falls asleep on your shoulder and you stroke his hair, taking off his glasses and brushing stray tart crumbs from his lip. He’s so vulnerable around you, as if he is laying bare his heart in the palms of his hands.

Even in his sleep, you can feel him smile when you squeeze his hand.

CATER

Cater is always quite a bit to be around. He is loud and expressive and always wants

to show you something. He is always taking photos with you. Some he posts, and others he doesn’t. You see those ones in profile pictures and on lock screens and home screens, a constant reminder that he wants to see you.

He is very whiny when he’s upset. He’ll come to you pouting, giving you puppy eyes, and wrap his arms around you, practically hanging off of you until you both fall over into a pile of limbs. He acts like it’s a joke, like he’s just eager for your attention, but you can tell when something is up and pull him close, just staying there on the floor with him, listening to him talk.

Eventually his poker face tires and he admits that he needs you, still with that whiny tone, though you can tell he’s dead serious. You take his hand and go to your bed, laying down with him as the little spoon, your nose buried in the back of his neck, his hair tickling your forehead. He is on his phone to distract himself, but his hand squeezes yours. You talk to him, asking him about his day. He always tells you what’s wrong

Cater can’t hide anything from you.

He couldn’t hide that he doesn’t like sweets, he couldn’t hide that he wants to be around you when he feels down, and he sure as hell can’t see the worried look on your face and not tell you why his smile is dimmed.

Because he knows you want to see your diamond shine as bright as ever.

#pls riddle is so clingy #cater’s whiny ass #ace won’t shut the fuck up but he’s baby #also why am I writing osa I’m the artist on the page #goddamit I’ve been sucked into another fandom #artists on tumblr #ramonespost #twst #twisted wonderland #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #trey clover #deuce spade #GAH

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griffintail · 3 years

Text

The First Day

Summary: Your first day on the server.

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This is a story I was working on in my free time for like the longest time and it's still not finished and it's so long. God knows how many parts this will be. I need a title for this story too. I'll think of one separately and it will have it's own masterlist if people like it.

SO! Without further ado, here you are because I was bored!

Oh and (Y/U/N) means YOUR USERNAME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wilbur logged on to the Dream SMP. He didn’t have anything to do there, it was just a place to run around and build for him at the moment.

He had built his “ball” not far from Tommy’s base, maybe he could build something else…He wasn’t quite sure yet. Just as before, Tommy begged for his attention and chuckled at the boy’s antics quietly. As he was going to find a space to build a new name joined the server.

(Y/U/N) joined the game

He frowned. He’s never heard that name before. Someone must have though because Dream didn’t let just anyone on the server. He’d look into them later.

He was once more about to go to work when there was a new message in chat.

<(Y/U/N)> There are new people on today. \o/ Hello, Mr. Soot and Mr. Innit.

He chuckled as he read the message deciding to give them a response, smirking at Tommy’s probably rage.

<WilburSoot> Hello there! :)

<(Y/U/N)> May I know your coords?

<WilburSoot> You may

He gave the newcomer he coordinates, deciding to stick around the ball as he had as Tommy messaged him with renewed hope. A figure that wasn’t Tommy climbed up to Wilbur. The character was a female skin in a plaid jacket that was open with a plaid shirt and blue jeans to match, wearing a gray beanie on blonde hair.

<(Y/U/N)> Hi! I’m new and wanted to give you a gift.

She threw a flower, a poppy specifically, at him and when he picked it up, he noticed it was named.

From (Y/U/N) to WilburSoot

<WilburSoot> Why thank you Ms. (Y/U/N).

<Tommyinnit> WOMAN!?

<(Y/U/N)> No problem good day!

<(Y/U/N)> Mr. Innit! May I have your coords?

<Tommyinnit> No I will not give a woman my coordinates!!

<(Y/U/N)> :(

And now was the time to respond to Tommy. Wilbur logged onto the discord and joined Tommy in his call.

“Wilbur!”

“Now Tommy, that’s not how you talk to a lady.” Wilbur jokingly scolded him. “Apologize to her.”

“I am not going to apologize to a woman!”

“Tommy,” Wilbur warned. “Don’t make me block you.”

He heard Tommy sigh exasperated and typed in chat.

<Tommyinnit> I’m sorry

<(Y/U/N)> :) It’s ok. I wish to give you a gift! Coords pls?

<WilburSoot> He lives in those fences right across from here

“Good, thank you, Tommy.”

“Will you talk to me now?” Tommy asked with a huff.

“Sure.”

He first went into his ball as the girl sprinted over to Tommy’s place. He put the flower in a chest before following after her as he listened to Tommy talk.

“Why the hell did she give me a flower?” Tommy questioned as Wilbur was halfway to Tommy’s.

<Tommyinnit> Why the hell did you give me a flower?

<(Y/U/N)> I’m new and I just want to give you a welcome gift!

<(Y/U/N)> I need to work on my house. Good day, Mr. Soot and Mr. Innit!

She sprinted away towards the community house. Wilbur stopped next to Tommy as he was holding a red tulip.

“Wha…What was that?” Tommy asked Wilbur.

“She told you, now what do you want to do?”

The new girl had left before Tommy’s stream ended and after Tommy’s stream and he left, Wilbur decided to look up who the new person was. Looking up the name, he got a Twitter, YouTube, and Twitch account. On her Twitch there was a new video streamed today titled “Let’s not be homeless! (DreamSMP)”. She had a decent amount of followers on her Twitch and her YouTube channel, she had half a million subscribers. On her Twitter, there was a picture of a dog with its face pressed against the camera that had taken it. There was a tweet from not long ago with a full picture of the same dog next to a desk.

-------

(Y/U/N) @(Y/U/N)

He wouldn’t leave me alone all stream! I love my good boy but a girl needs her space!

-------

Wilbur gave a quiet chuckle before liking the post and giving her a follow. Maybe he’d meet more of her…

-------

Wilbur logged into the server once more to work on his project to come with Tommy. There were a few people online, Tubbo, Ponk, and Fundy. He didn’t bother them though, giving greetings back when given before getting to work. As he did, he got a notification from his phone that someone was live and glanced over. (Y/U/N) was live.

Curious, he pulled up her stream and decided to leave it on in the background.

“Hello, magical people! We’re going to be jumping back onto the SMP! My house looks so dull and I wanna find wolves.”

Wilbur caught her accent immediately, American, definitely.

“What do you mean there’s three people I haven’t met! I don’t have experience chat! Don’t say that!”

(Y/U/N) joined the game

“Fudge there’s three people I haven’t met. Firetrucks, uhhhh, I need to give them their flowers but I can’t name them!”

<(Y/U/N)> Hello new fellows! \o/

<Tubbo_> Hello! o/

“I like that one.” She laughed. “He definitely deserves a flower. Oh, Mr. Soot’s online. Maybe he can help…”

Wilbur looked over to see her typing a message in chat to him and as he looked over, he realized there was no webcam. She must not like to show her face.

(Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: Hi Mr. Soot! I’m in a predicament. May I ask for some of your EXP levels to name three flowers?

He chuckled as he typed back to her.

WilburSoot whispers to (Y/U/N): I have a few I can spare. I’ll be heading over to the ball to meet you. Just bring the anvil and flowers.

“He’s a lifesaver chat!” She cheered. “We found a good one!”

He laughed as he made his way over to his ball.

(Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: You’re a lifesaver! I and the chat thank you!

She came sprinting over a few moments after he got there and she placed the anvil down and threw to him a dandelion, an orange tulip, and an allium.

(Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: The dandelion for Tubbo, the tulip for Fundy, and allium for Ponk.

WilburSoot whispers to (Y/U/N): Ok :)

He named the flowers the same as she had named his as she took the chance of waiting to read out her subs and donations. As he named the last flower, he saw he had a spare daisy in his inventory. She was giving them flowers; he should give one back.

To (Y/U/N) From WilburSoot

He threw all the flowers back over as she was reading a donation.

“Ah! Flowers! Time to hunt down the people!”

(Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: Thank you! I owe you one!

WilburSoot whispers to (Y/U/N): Any time!

She picked up the anvil before sprinting off into the distance and he went back towards his build.

<(Y/U/N)> Mr. Tubbo! Hello! I’m new and wish to give you a present!

<Tubbo_> Thank you!!

It was a moment before a new message popped up in chat.

<(Y/U/N)> Hello Mr. Fundy! I have a gift for you!

<ItsFundy> Ah thank you very much!

Wilbur found it rather interesting as he watched the chat about how she used titles to talk to others. It was rather formal.

“What do you mean there’s an extra flower? I only gave Mr. Soot three. Ok, ok, I’ll look.” She told her chat. “I thought I taught you guys better.” He looked over as she looked through her inventory, hovering over the extra flower he had given her. “Oh! He gave me a flower back! No one’s ever given me a flower back! Two years of giving flowers to people on servers and Mr. Soot beats them all!”

So, this was a regular bit she did. He was surprised though to hear that he was the only one to give her a flower back, blushing lightly at her off-hand compliment.

<(Y/U/N)> Mr. Soot! Thank you for MY gift! :)

<WilburSoot> It was no problem. :)

“Now back on track! To Ponk’s!”

Wilbur tuned out the in-game chat as he worked, looking towards his phone though when he heard his name.

“Do I watch Mr. Soot? Well yes, I’ve watched a few of his videos with Jschlatt and I’ve listened to his music video, uh…The Internet Ruined Me! That’s the one.”

Wilbur blushed lightly once more. She had watched some of his videos and his music?

“Do you watch anyone else on the server? Yeah, I watch a few of the guys like Sir Dream, George, and Sapnap. I watched one or two videos of Mr. Innit’s and Tubbo’s creation. But I have to be here with you too chat! I don’t have time to watch everyone!”

Wilbur finished building, about to log off for the day but stopped and opened in-game chat.

<WilburSoot> Good bye Ms. (Y/U/N)!

“And he’s saying bye to me! Why didn’t we meet him sooner chat?!”

<(Y/U/N)> Goodbye Mr. Soot! :)

“I am not simping chat! I thought I taught all of you better!”

Wilbur laughed as he turned off the stream. She was certainly a character.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #dreamsmp x reader

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bellamyblake · 2 years

Text

when you think about that 3x13 scene and why it is so special, i gotta say i think it’s because bellamy’s walls are torn apart one by one, but not just by clarke, like it has been before but rather by himself as well-

he feels comfortable enough to bare his soul to her, despite everything that has happened in that season-him chasing after her trying to save her, her refusing to come home, then all of his choices, their fight in 3x05 and still it’s just so amazing psychologically speaking when it comes to bellamy-

you could see how he tries to remain stand-offish at first like “Wanheda the peacemaker.” which he throws as a way to let his anger out and maybe hurt her the way she did when she left and then told him no, I won’t go home in 3x04 even though he knew it wasn’t safe or right-

after it goes to “I don’t need your help.” another lie, like dude, of course you do, you goddamn love and appreciate her, she’s the only person who ever saw you for you, not even your sister did that so like please-

and what i love is how she STAYS, she doesn’t go when he tries to push her because she knows him, she’s like oh god that stubborn idiot, right...not leaving you, bellamy, so take THAT

and she stands by his side quietly at first-

and then he breaks down-

like a cracked dam that finally spills all out-

Clarke, I’ve lost her-

and of course it is about his whole world, his sister, who’s been everything to him, the reason he came on the ground, the reason he made it this far, the reason he exist (even if i hate that cause his existance should’ve never circled around HER life alone)

and clarke looks at him and says “Give her time, Bellamy.” and you don’t know if she’s talking about THEM or him and Octavia cause it could be both, it’s like she’s pleading with him-give me time, Bellamy...give me time and then she adds because she too can’t let her emotions out on the surface “There may be blood on your hands but it’s not Lincolns.” something she saw way before anyone else did, something she realized from the start (something Ka/ne didn’t or Miller or Harper or all the others who left him chained)

and again you dont know if they’re talking about Lincoln or mount weather here when he says “Some of it is.” because he pulled that lever too.

the conversation responds perfectly to everything that happened in 2x16 and I dont think many people realize it; they are talking about themselves as much as about O/Lincoln/Bellamy

Then it comes to forgiveness and you can tell now truly that they mean each other, forgiveness is always what they circled around, I believe that their relationship is much more about that, than it ever was about head and heart.

head and heart is how they react to circumstances

forgiveness is the way they react to each other, a recurring one that has been there since season 1;

and of course his full admission of “I was so angry at you for leaving-” you can actually SEE how much it goddamn broke him to watch her go, you get a glimpse of what those three months were to bellamy through bob’s perfect acting in that scene and you realize that it wasn’t all him being a badass leader no, he broke down to, probably on his own, maybe with Gina by his side, maybe he got drunk and cried, maybe he barely got any sleep or had nightmares, maybe he couldn’t breathe properly or felt his heart heavy every time he went outside the wire and hoped to see her-

maybe he dreamed of her-

oh so many maybes

and then the ultimate “I don’t want to feel that way anymore” meaning im tired of the grief that turned into anger that turned into me becoming yet a bigger monster in everyone’s eyes, I can’t anymore, I don’t want to (both of them are so resigned in season 4 you’d wanna cry with them), so let’s forgive and move on because my back is hunched with all the unshed tears i’ve kept in my chest for three months-

and then she hugs him

the world suddenly feels not whole, not perfect, not suddenly fixed but-

air is a little easier to breathe and he feels his lungs expand fully for the first time-

#bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #the 100 #meta #im sorry i was so overwhelmed by the feels #my writing

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savebatsfromscratch · 2 years

Text

RusAmeChu Week 2022 Day One.

Prompt: Party/Dance

Words: 2,532

America throws a party in his house. His two boyfriends show up.

This was gonna be for the ‘World Meeting’ prompt, because I like reading those better than party fics, but then it sort of morphed. *shrugs*

It’s kind of set in my house??? I didn’t have any other ideas, okay? I was really tired lol.

Also it focuses a bit more on RoChu than anything else, but it’s meant to be RusAmeChu. .-,

The ending is a little bit wack, just ignore it.

Fic under the cut or at this link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36925651

America pushed past China, “I’ll get it!” he cried, reaching for the handle, “It’s mine!” China shook his head but stepped back anyway, awaiting the creak of the door as the rusty hinges squeaked open. Not a moment later, the shocking shriek met his ears and he peered out the door, suddenly curious. Three sets of eyes connected, and a moment of realization passed between them.

“Russia!” America cheered, throwing his hands up above his head as his boyfriend shouldered his way into his house, “You made it!”

“Why wouldn’t I have made it-,” Russia broke off, suddenly crushed as China unexpectedly tackled him.

“I dunno bro, but it wouldn’t be the first time, would it.,” America scolded, pulling his two boyfriends apart and directing them away from the door. “Come on dudes, let's get out of the way of the door,” he mumbled, “I’ve got other guests coming you know.”

Once they were sufficiently far away, China turned to face America, “Who’d you invite?” he asked curiously, peering over America’s shoulder to look if there was anyone else entering the room.

“Oh just the normal guys,” America answered, waving the question aside like his answer had been the most specific thing he could have said, “But I’m more interested in who’s here already.”

“Me or him?” Russia asked, laughing from under his scarf and gesturing to China, “Or maybe you meant yourself?”

China stifled a laugh and lightheartedly punched Russia’s arm, “Oh stop it, you know he didn’t mean himself.”

“Maybe I did,” America joked, “I am the coolest one in this room, maybe I’m the hottest one too!”

“Not true!” China sputtered, “That’s definitely me!”

America and Russia burst out laughing, and it didn’t take long for China to join them. In fact, their little giggle fit only ended when the door hinges creaked open again. (Quieting as all three nations hurriedly turned to see who was joining the party.)

“Yo! Japan dude!” Called America, waving his hands and rushing over to properly invite his friend, “You need anything? Juice? Chips? A place to put your bags?” Relieved, Japan nodded and followed America, still chattering, to the snacks table.

Russia smiled slightly, America looked like he was having fun, and honestly, that was enough to let him brush aside how much less planned out his welcome was. (The man could have at least asked him if he’d had a good flight, I mean really.) But as he watched the two friends chat, he knew it didn’t matter, Alfred was having a good time! And heck if he wasn’t going to follow his example.

China followed Russia as he made his way over to the snack table. Snickering to himself as he was reminded of how much the amount of junk food outweighed the singular vegetable platter. (It wasn’t a bad vegetable platter, but nothing to boast about when compared to the absolute mountain of chips that stood next to it.)

“Hey America!” he teased, picking up a Cheese Puff and flinging it at his boyfriend, “Do you want me to teach you how to cook some real party food?”

America looked over, an obviously fake look of annoyance on his face, “Not now dude, can’t you see I’m busy talking to Japan over here?”

“He sees that,” Russia interjected, not looking up from filling his place with diced carrots, “He’s just so enamored by your cooking abilities that he can’t but give a few tips,”

China snorted slightly and began to inspect a cracker, “Pretty sure this is processed but thanks for trying to explain my opinions.” Russia nodded into his scarf, but even with his face half buried in light pink fabric, China could tell he was smiling. (Knowing that sort of thing just came naturally when you’d been together for as long as they had.)

China finally decided that the cracker was safe to eat and bit into it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Japan stifling a laugh and patting America on the shoulder. “It’s okay Alfred,” he was saying, “I like your food selection,”

America batted his friend’s hand away and shook his head, clearly not upset despite his slightly annoyed expression. “You’re just saying that because the cake isn't out here yet,” he decided, looking more and more cheered up by every word, “I frosted it myself!”

Japan grimaced, obviously aware that that meant the cake was almost certainly an unhealthy looking shade of green or pink. (China and Russia quickly followed his example when the realization hit them.), Looking around himself and seeing their faces, America broke into a barking laugh, “Don’t worry!” he reassured them, wiping an eye with one hand and pointing around at them with the other, “It’s just a little bit of frosting, nothing to worry about!”

“Oh whew,” Russia mumbled sarcastically, “For a moment there I was worried you had covered the thing in dead bugs,”

While China pretended to throw up, America just fell back into a couch, laughing harder. (Poor Japan didn’t seem to process the joke for a moment, but eventually smiled slightly as it dawned on him.) “You know I would never do that!” America finally choked out, “Not unless it was our anniversary or something…”

China leaned over to Russia, whispering behind a hand as he joked, “Reminded me when that is so I can avoid it,”

Russia nodded solemnly, “14th of October,” he whispered back, “And I’ll only remind you if you remind me first,”

China shook his head and rolled his eyes, “Russia that doesn’t make sense,” his voice now at full volume, “How would that do any good if I had to remind you first?”

Russia shrugged, but before he (or anyone else for that matter) could open their mouth to speak there was a knock at the door. Instantly America shot off the couch, vaulting over an end of the snack table as he rushed to invite another friend in. “I’m getting it!” he yelled, “All of you stay right there, I’ve got this!”

Russia looked to the sky and China pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really,” Japan murmured, “It’s like he thinks it’s some kind of contest.”

“Oh you don’t even know the half of it,” China said, turning to face his friend, “You didn’t see how aggressively he ran to get the door for you or Russia.”

Japan raised his eyebrows. “How aggressive would you say it was?” Russia asked, sounding mildly curious, “For me I mean,” he corrected, “I saw him inviting Japan.”

China shrugged, “Pretty aggressive I’d say,” and then, suddenly serious he added, “He pushed me out of the way Ivan,” -he mimed hitting something, “Phhss, right like that,”

“Wow, that’s very violent,” Russia said, following China’s own mimed seriousness with a nod and a blink, “So very unlike him.”

China nodded back seriously, but a stifled cough of laughter broke though as Russia copied his little smack movement and subsequent sound effect, “Shut up,” China mumbled, watching out of the corner of his eye as Italy and Germany finally made it through the door, “It was the only thing I could think of doing,”

“Thank you for thinking of it then,” Russia smiled, casually picking up an entire bell pepper and biting into it, “It was funny.”

Abandoning the snacks table, Japan rushed over to the newcomers, excitedly hugging Italy (and then Germany) as America explained where the snacks and everything were. After a moment of watching the three former allies greet each other, Russia opened his mouth to speak, “When do you think they’ll figure it out?” he whispered, “They’ve obviously got a thing for each other.”

China shrugged and climbed into a chair, “I dunno, but hopefully it’s soon. They’re driving me mad with anticipation.”

“It was the same for us you know,” Russia nodded, leaning on the chair back and sighing, “That feels like such a long time ago…”

“It was a long time ago,” China laughed, “We’ve been a thing for a real while now.”

“I guess you’re right.” Slowly, the two drifted into silence. A direct contrast to the growing noise of the party as another group of nations made it past America’s little ‘greeting’ speech. It was nice, being close enough to each other that they could talk face to face. (Which was a luxury that neither of them had ever been able to take for granted. Being nations and everything, they usually had to stay in their own countries, far away from any other immortal friends or lovers.)

-That was the reason that China was so grateful to America for throwing this party. That loneliness was thrown off his shoulders with an excuse to leave and see the people he cared about the most. He knew that Russia felt the same way (they had talked about it over video call more than once), and he also knew that America had set up this whole party basically just to see them smile.

He’d never said it, not out loud anyway, but America was notoriously bad at keeping secrets, so China knew anyway. He was glad that he knew. (It almost entirely excused the junk food, which Finland was busy digging into. China had to appreciate the hustle.)

Russia hummed a note and leaned over the chair back a bit more, resting his forehead on the top of China’s head and bringing the other man out of his thoughts. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asked, “You seem pretty comfortable there.”

China smiled up at him, pushing his head back in order to not clonk their noses together, “That would be really nice, can you see if he has any good tea?”

“I’ll try,” laughed Russia, pulling away from the chair and nearly crashing into Hungry as she and her girlfriend strode by, “But I dunno if he’s gonna have any real tea,”

“He might!” China called, no longer visible behind the chair back as Russia glanced back at him, “He’s perfect in every other way, this can’t be his only fault!”

Russia shook his head, smiling as the atmosphere of the party drifted in through his ears. Oh how happy he was to be here, finally surrounded by the warmth of other people and the chatter of their voices, and finally being able to fetch one of his boyfriends a drink. (It was a weird thing to want to do, but for him, it felt like it proved that he was really in love, and it felt like it proved that he was really ready to spend life with the two men he called his.)

Suddenly, he spotted a shock of bright blond in the crowd. He knew that a disproportionate amount of male nations had blond hair, but this wasn’t any dumb blond, it was his dumb blond.

“America!” He called, swerving around a gaggle of nordics and a small crowd of female nations, “America do you have any tea?”

“Sure I do dude!” Came the excited response, “Are you the one asking?”

“No I’m not,” Russia answered, shaking his head and shuffling a bit closer to the other nation, “China wants some tea,” he leaned in closer and glanced behind himself, “The good kind,” he whispered, “Do you have any good tea?”

America blinked, and for a moment Russia was scared that his dreams of bringing China a drink wouldn’t be fulfilled, but just as suddenly as he always spoke, Alfred laughed. “Of course I do! I got it just for him, come this way!”

Russia smiled and felt another wave of gratitude for his man, “Thank you Alfred, I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” he said truthfully, scrambling after America as he led him past the kitchen and into the basement. ‘And I appreciate it too.’

“I’m sure he will,” America agreed, rifling through a few boxes as he seared for the good tea, “But maybe you could make it for him,” he murmured embrasedly, picking out the right box and handing it to Russia, “I, er, I don’t know how to,”

To America’s surprise, Russia’s smile only grew. “Of course!” He nodded, “That’s alright, you all are known for your love of coffee, not tea.”

But before America could properly ask him what the hell he meant by ‘you all’, he was already thanking him and halfway up the stairs. “You’re welcome!” Alfred called after him, heart soaring as he climbed after Russia. He watched as he busily made his way over to the correct cabinets for the teapot and measuring spoons (and ignored how mildly questionable the fact that he knew he way around was. America had reorganized the entire kitchen since either boyfriend had been here last).

It felt good to be appreciated, but it felt even better to help someone achieve something.

- - - - -

China didn’t know when he had gotten pulled into dancing, but he knew that he was having fun. He spun across the carpeted floor, ignoring the way that it burned his toes as he swept dramatically into Americaś arms. (Off to the side, he could hear Russia cheering and clapping as the two danced. It was like they were the only couple to ‘grace’ the hastily cleared living room dance area.)

America grinned and leaned in to kiss him. China however, was not having any of that, and ducked to the side lightheartedly, totally ready to surprise hug as it became his ‘turn’ to give a move. Alfred hugged back, and China couldn’t help but look out to the small crowd in search of his other boyfriend. So it was no surprise that when the song shifted key (whatever track was playing then) China gestured for Russia to come join them.

“It’ll be fun!” He called, unlatching himself from America and making cute little ‘come here’ gestures with his hand. “Come on! Let’s all dance!”

At first Russia shook his head, but slowly he hesitated. They did look like they were having a lot of fun (plus, of course they looked great while doing it). Who was he to pass up an opportunity? So, as the song blurred over the CD player, Russia let himself be pushed into the carpeted area to join his boyfriends.

“This is a good party.” He commented, casually doing a pirouette (even as it 1, didn’t fit the song, and 2, hurt his toes a lot), “Nice music choice too,”

“I wonder who put it on,” America joked, pausing for a moment to let himself rest, “I bet the party thrower would really appreciate a thank you right about now,”

China laughed, spinning his own little circle before jumping up to put his arms around both his boyfriends, “Will this one suffice?” He leaned in closer.

Before America could say or process anything, China had already kissed him. “Now,” he chirped, smiling brightly, “Let’s all hold hands and act like nothing happened,”

“Oh yes,” America agreed, nodding as the song finally began to draw to a close, “That will definitely make that less oddly timed,”

Russia giggled and China rolled his eyes, “Come on, just do it,” he whispered.

“Of course!”

#RusAmeChu Week 2022 #prompt: party/dance #my writing #Hetalia #RusAmeChu #hws #hws russia #hws america #hws china #hws japan #writing #my art #hws fanfic #actual post

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the-angel-ashe · 2 years

Text

asdfhjkl i just found this i totally forgot i drew this lol

#old art #when dimitri accidentally crits #and then you can’t give the exp to anyone else #when you’re the empress but you’re still third wheeling for your childhood friend #edelgard #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaidydd #byleth eisner #dimileth #fe3h #fe3h comic #my art #crowchiru

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danurso-impact · 3 years

Text

Proper treatment

*after exploring a domain*

Aether: hey, are you okay?

Amber: *looking down with a frown and bandaging his arm* me? Of course! *forces a smile* Why wouldn't I be okay?

Aether: you know that's not true, right? You've been frowning the whole day, and it only got worse after the domain.

Amber: . . . *looks down again, and keeps bandaging his arm* it's nothing big really, no need to get worried.

Aether: If it's bothering you then i do have to worry. Come on, you know you can tell me anything.

Amber: *stops bandaging* why. . .do you still bring me along?

Aether: what?

Amber: why do you still bring me to these missions?

Aether: because i like having you around, and you're the best archer i know, so of course i-

Amber: are you an idiot!?

Aether: *shocked* wha-?

Amber: *tearing up* just look at yourself! You're full of bruises and cuts!

Aether: that wasn't your fault, i was careless and-

Amber: of course it was! I'm your partner! I'm supposed to protect your back! But i'm so weak that i can't do anything! Even the weakest hilichurls barely flinch when I shoot them!

Aether: *sighs* so that's the problem.

Amber: *crying* if mister zhongli wasn't around that ruin guard would've killed you. I don't wanna lose anyone else because of my weakness, especially someone so important to me like you!

Aether: you're not weak amber, you really aren't-

Amber: Of course I am! I can barely hit four digits even with critical hits! Baron bunny barely fazes any enemy, and even my ultimate is ignored by anything I try to hit! A lot of people make fun of me because I'm so weak, and I tried to ignore that, but they're right! I'm the weakest of the knights and a failure as an archer!

Aether: amber-

Amber: *wiping her tears* Please just ask fischl or ganyu to take my place, I don't wanna be the reason you get hurt anymore.

Aether: *inhales* . . . . . . *exhales and gets up*

Amber: Traveler. . .?

Aether: I'll be right back. *leaves*

Amber: o-okay. . .

*One month later, at jean's office*

Amber: Did the search parties get lucky?

Jean: *sighs* I'm afraid not, we already searched every corner of mondstadt but there's still no clue about the traveler's whereabouts.

Zhongli: I contacted the Liyue qixing and asked for help in the case, but there's no sign of him on Liyue as well.

Amber: *grits her teeth in frustration*

Lisa: oh my, just where in the world is he.

Kaeya: i bet we're gonna find him sooner or later.

Diluc: That if the fatui didn't find him first.

Amber: *flinches*

Jean: that. . .unfortunately, is a possibility.

Diluc: I know, that's why I already started making preparations to go to Snezhnaya to search for him.

Jean: *eyes wide* a-are you sure about this sir?

Diluc: he put himself on the line to help us many times, i'm just trying to repay the favor.

Amber: Can I go with you sir?

Diluc: i'm sorry, but i don't think you are ready for something like that.

Amber: I know that! More than anyone I know that I'm not ready for something like that, but I don't care, I have to find him! No matter the cost!

Zhongli: it would be wise to calm down, we cannot make any decisions in such an agitated state.

Amber: We don't have time! We need to act now or else we won't find him!

Zhongli: i understand how you are feeling, i'm just asking you to try and calm down a little bit.

Amber: I can't! The only way i would calm down was if he walked into this room right no-

Aether: *kicks door open*

Everyone: *gasps, with eyes wide* Traveler!?

Aether: *with dark bags under his eyes, a few burnt marks on his clothes, hair loose and completely messy, visible mud on his boots and a lot of bruises around his body* hey. . .

Lisa: oh dear, what happened to you?

Aether: RNG, that's what fucking happened. *walks directly towards amber and puts down a backpack* and this is yours. *opens the backpack, showing a large amount of items*

Amber: w-what's all this?

Aether: a buttload of freedom books and arrowheads for your talents, and good amount of dvalin sighs also for your talents. A ton of agnius agates, fire seeds and lamp grass for your ascensions, some extra constelations and an unholy amount of purple EXP books and mora. There's also a full plus twenty witch of flames set with a pyro goblet and a CRIT damage hat, the substats aren't stellar but they're better than most i got for the others. I wished i could've got you a five star bow but like i said many times before, RNG is a bitch, so the best i could get was a refinement five and level ninety prototype bow.

Amber: *speechless* . . .what. . .what's all that for? You disappeared for a whole month just to farm these for me?

Aether: you got sad because you couldn't help me on the field, and that only happened because I neglected you, even though you're my partner and have been helping me since day one. This is both an apology and a fix to that.

Amber: i. . .don't know what to say. . .

Aether: don't say anything, just put those on and if anyone says shit about you again, shoot them in the head, If you don't feel like it just tell me and i'll shoot them myself. You're strong and amazing, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. *pulls her by the waist, giving her a long deep kiss*

Amber: *blushes, but melts into the kiss*

Aether: Now if you excuse me, i'm dirty, my whole body hurts and i feel like i'm gonna pass out at any second, so i'll take a bath and a day long nap.

Amber: *red, and with steam coming out of her head* o-okay.

Aether: Love you, See you tomorrow. *leaves*

Diluc: well, i guess this solves the situation.

Lisa: My, My, how romantic of him.

Zhongli: young love truly is a beautiful thing.

Jean: It does look like something straight out of a novel.

Kaeya: looks like our little rookie has our favorite hero wrapped around her finger.

Amber: *with a massive blush* Please stop. . .i don't deserve all of this.

Aether: *from outside the window* YES YOU FUCKING DO!!!

Amber: *covering her face* i don't deserve him!!!

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dreamologisth2o · 3 years

Text

My Thoughts on c!DreamXD

So Ruby’s recent analysis on the different interpretations of c!Dream has me thinking about my own interpretation of c!DreamXD because I feel like it’s fairly different from other people’s.

To start out with, most of what I’ve seen aren’t actually analysis posts. The one off character from 3-4 wacky streams doesn’t have much analysis going on for him, who would’ve guessed? But based on a lot of art and headcanon posts I’ve seen around the c!Dream apologists circle most people believe him to be either full on ancient eldritch god or someone who seeks acceptance through any means necessary and is similar to c!Slime, who’s easily manipulated. Everyone agrees he’s a c!George simp.

Outside the c!Dream apologist circles, of which I have not seen many of and mostly heard second hand, people believe he’s manipulated and cursed c!George into an everlasting contract of being his friend, and that the actions he takes during c!George’s dream are done out of malice and not ignorance.

From here on out I’m only ever referring to the characters and not the content creators unless specified.

First things first: DreamXD has agency. He has things he’s ok with and things he’s not ok with. He has boundaries and he sets those boundaries and when someone infringes upon them he’s not afraid of pushing back or punishing them for said infringement. Yes, George eventually convinced DreamXD to give him netherite armor in exchange for his friendship at the end of his stream. No, DreamXD did not immediately give into George’s demands. In fact he argues against it, multiple times. Constantly pointing out how George only wanted him around for “stuff” and refusing until it seemed to be the only thing he could do that would convince George to stay. That’s nothing like Slime, who pretty much does whatever anyone else asks him to do.

The way I’ve seen people treat Slime is very similar to the way they treat DreamXD, and that’s not surprising, because both are characters who don’t know much about how humans act and how they work nor how to fit into “human society”. BUT the big difference between the two is that DreamXD has agency while Slime does not. I don’t know if it’s because of their apparent age or because of their origins, but just because DreamXD doesn’t know how “normal human society” works doesn’t mean he has the mentality of a toddler or a new born baby. He’s ignorant, not naïve. He knows when he’s being used and he knows it’s not something he likes.

I also do not believe he is controlled by the book. Quite frankly that entire scene to me felt more like DreamXD sensed a disturbance and much like when Techno and Phil started messing with the portal room, had simply gone and investigated. He was not required to grant them a wish, it was Techno who asked if he could, which he then offered them one. When they try to summon him again, he doesn’t show up, further proof that the book, while having caught his interest, doesn’t actually have any real hold/power over him. Also, he sounded kinda annoyed in the chat log, speaking in short sentences and single word answers.

Another example of DreamXD refusing to be used for items is when Foolish foolishly (haha) asks him for another shulker box. To which he retaliates by summoning lighting on him, multiple times, until Foolish takes back his request.

That said, DeramXD is perfectly fine with giving things away if it’s of his own volition and not because someone demands it of him. When Techno asks if he grants wishes, DreamXD offers them 1 when he could’ve just said no. When Foolish and Bad are having another territory dispute, DreamXD comes by and places heads of the various server members for them. He’s also given George diamonds of his own volition before as well. He’s not opposed to doing things for someone or giving them stuff, it’s only when people try to use him for things (cough cough George) does he get defensive and upset.

Second: DreamXD is not inherently malicious. When he does something bad, he doesn’t do it to be mean or to hurt them. He does it because he thinks it’d be funny, get a laugh out of George, or because he doesn’t recognize that sending someone to hell and back isn’t nice. (it was pretty funny though XD)

What he considers “good” or “bad” or acceptable is very different from “normal” and so most of his actions are born from ignorance of what “normal” is, ignorance he tries to correct by learning from George, the one person he’s been seen talking to outside chat. Which, George isn’t a good teacher, at all, but I’m not here to talk about that.

And more recently, when we see him cause mild chaos with Bad and Foolish, he ultimately leaves things back to the way he found them in. Returning L’Sandburg back to where it was, teleporting Foolish out of the void, showering both Bad and Foolish in EXP bottles to heal their armor and giving them some extra food to help them recover health after smiting them a few dozen times. (he also placed water on the TNT Skeppy lights in Foolish’s summer home at the same time as Bad, to prevent the explosion from blowing the place up.)

Third: There is a non-zero chance that DeramXD is whatever it is the dreamon hunters split from Dream during that first dreamon hunter stream, and not an ancient all powerful god of the server. (Though the members of the server certainly believe him to be which is what I personally believe led to DreamXD calling himself “god”. Because everyone else calls him that) If he’s a god, which considering his abilities he can certainly be counted as one, then he isn’t old, and is in fact quite new.

DreamXD explicitly states "I’m not Dream! ...I... am not Dream, sort of. I’m a part of him.” (Which means Dream came first!) He has also mentioned having been hunted at one point in the past (either as Dream during manhunts or because of the dreamon hunters, we don’t know), and has spoken in Dream’s voice once before switching back and saying “mm, he’s gone.”

Lastly: and, again this is just my personal thoughts on DreamXD and something I find interesting/funny about the fandom’s response but. George and Techno both say DreamXD looks like Dream. Foolish has mistaken Dream’s head for DreamXD before. By all means and canon evidence, DreamXD should look basically identical to Dream. Does this stop the fandom from going wild with his design? Nope. In fact, it’s so wild I have a hard time believing that this 23ft tall eldritch abomination with too many eyes, multiple floating hands, rings of halos around his (usually just an orb) head, twenty pairs of wings and long flowing robes looks anything like this scruffy, homeless, teletubby in a mask. Much less close enough that George keeps accidentally or on purpose mistaking him for Dream.

Like, all these designs are amazing and super duper cool looking and extraordinarily creative but it’s not accurate to canon at all and the spiderman meme makes much less sense when neither of the “spidermen” looks anything like the other. (Unless of course, everyone on the dsmp is mask blind and think anyone with a white mask looks like Dream because they can’t see past that and--)

ANYWAYS, this concludes some of my thoughts on DreamXD. I certainly have more but this has gotten long and kinda rambly. If you’ve gotten this far, then thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

#c!DreamXD #long post #my rambles #my thoughts #I have #so many thoughts on c!DreamXD and c!George's relationship #it's so messed up man #and not just the part where c!George is locked into an everlasting contract with c!DreamXD #for some netherite armor and tools #because c!George is pretty messed up too #and the way he so casually manipulates/tries to convince c!DreamXD into giving him things #even though c!DreamXD has already said/proven multiple times that he doesn't like that #kinda reminds me of beeduo's dynamic #where it looks sweet on the outside #but there are definitely unhealthy undertones when you examine certain aspects of their relationship more closely

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Complications (aka trans!Jiang Cheng with a kid) - ao3 or part 1, part 2, part 3

A-Lian was as good a name as any for the brat, Jiang Cheng supposed.

He’d been spitefully thinking of additional names ever since Nie Huaisang, that busybody, had decided on the name he liked best, but unfortunately Jiang Lian had a better ring to it than any of the others he’d come up with so far and he wasn’t quite petty enough to condemn his son to a disharmonious name just out of spite.

Assuming A-Lian stayed a son, anyway. Jiang Cheng was still curious as to how the Nie sect had managed to get cursed with an entire generation of women – Nie Huaisang had let slip a few hints that it might’ve had to do with a very fat celestial bird that hadn’t appreciated a comment that had, truly, been meant as a compliment, and anyway they would have made for excellent drumsticks, and honestly the more Jiang Cheng heard about this story the more he wondered if marrying Nie Huaisang just to hear the full version might possibly be worth it – and obviously he wasn’t about to let the Lotus Pier continue to ignore the issue of misaligned reincarnations any longer.

Something he’d have to start enforcing once he was back on the war front, he supposed – which was going to be very soon, if he had his way about it; he was sick and tired of the (nearly completed!) post-pregnancy isolation period.

He couldn’t wait for the relative peace and quiet of an active battlefield.

Of course, the second he thought that, A-Lian started making ominous grumbling sounds, because babies were apparently psychic. Why had no one ever mentioned that?

“You can’t be hungry again, brat,” Jiang Cheng told A-Lian firmly. “I literally just fed you.”

He probably just wanted to burp again, so Jiang Cheng picked him up and started patting him with one hand, using the other to fish out Nie Mingjue’s most recent letter. The other sect leader was quite possibly the most relaxing person he’d ever corresponded with: his letters were practical and to the point, with no extraneous fluff that Jiang Cheng would feel obliged to respond to.

More importantly, it gave him an update on how his sect was doing, which was all for the best – Nie Mingjue had kept recruitment open for him, which he hadn’t needed to do, and that meant that each letter now contained not only battle strategy and requests for final decisions but also lists of the talent (or lack thereof) of new recruits so that he could make a decision on their admittance as tentative nominal disciples. Final admittance would have to wait until he returned, of course…

He hadn’t gotten a letter from Nie Huaisang yet.

That was to be expected, he supposed. Nie Huaisang had insisted on sticking around for nearly two weeks following the birth to make sure Jiang Cheng didn’t mysteriously expire from complications – the doctors had rolled their eyes a little, but Nie Huaisang’s mother had died from an infection that hadn’t been spotted in time and Jiang Cheng understood his paranoia – and he’d only reluctantly agreed to go, which meant he was probably dragging his feet.

Anyway, just because Nie Huaisang had agreed to tell Wei Wuxian about A-Lian didn’t mean that he could necessarily find Wei Wuxian. His shixiong could be anywhere, after all; contributing to the campaign, of course, but not necessarily in the Jiang sect’s camp…

Ah, yes. Just what Jiang Cheng’s day was missing: the stabbing sense of inadequacy and failure, with a nice slice of the sinking suspicion that his leadership was so bad that he couldn’t even convince his own shixiong to follow him and therefore everyone who was following him was simply humoring him.

“At least you seem to like me well enough,” he muttered to A-Lian, who gurgled happily at him now that the unfortunate burping incident was behind them. “You keep that up, you hear me? You may be a brat, and little more than a blob with arms and legs, but you still have to like me best.”

Nie Huaisang insisted that A-Lian was a gorgeous baby, but Jiang Cheng was having some trouble seeing it. Obviously A-Lian was a baby superior to all other babies, undoubtedly through sheer dumb luck (maybe it skipped a generation?), but he kept worrying that he’d done something wrong, either during the pregnancy or the birth or the care he’d been giving him, and that he’d end up damaging A-Lian for life.

It was easier if he thought of A-Lian as a very resistant blob that would always resume its original shape.

…he really wished Nie Huaisang would write to him and tell him what’d happened when he told Wei Wuxian.

He knew that Wei Wuxian would take it personally, but he wasn’t exactly sure how. Would Wei Wuxian be angry with him? Disappointed, that Jiang Cheng hadn’t just lost his core to the Wens, but his chastity as well? Disdainful that Jiang Cheng had been so desperate for family that he’d decided to carry the child to term, even knowing that its father was their parents’ murderer - that he himself had helped murder the father in turn? Upset, because Wei Wuxian had done so much to rescue him and care for him and even help him get his golden core back, and in return Jiang Cheng did nothing but create another burden that would fall on his shoulders?

Or worse – would Wei Wuxian feel like a failure, too, the way Jiang Cheng always did, and all because he hadn’t been able to save Jiang Cheng from the obvious consequences of his own stupidity?

(It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng hadn’t known when he’d allowed himself to be captured that he’d be tortured and most probably killed, and yet somehow it had never occurred to him that they would do what they did to him – he’d been a man so long that he’d forgotten, just like everyone else in the Lotus Pier, that he’d ever been regarded as anything else. He still didn’t regret the choice he’d made; he’d known that Wei Wuxian would do a better job of avenging his parents than he would and he was right about it, too, wasn’t he?)

Jiang Cheng was so immersed in dark thoughts that he almost – almost – failed to notice when A-Lian started reaching for the ink. Well, flailing around in the general vicinity of the ink, anyway.

“Don’t you even dare think about it, brat. Do you remember bathtime? You don’t like bathtime, and if you get yourself covered in ink, there’s going to be even more bathtime…”

“Jiang-xiong! Jiang-xiong! Are you and A-Lian awake in there?”

It was Nie Huaisang.

He’d returned in person instead of writing a letter; was that a good sign or a bad sign?

“Even if we weren’t, we would be after your yelling,” he shouted back. “What are you, an elephant?”

“A bull!”

“You’re too prissy to be a bull, except for the bullshit you always keep spouting!”

Jiang Cheng waited for Nie Huaisang’s response, which would inevitably be dripping with innuendo, and blinked when there wasn’t anything. That was strange; it wasn’t as if there was anyone here that Nie Huaisang would be embarrassed to –

Oh no.

“Can we come in?” Nie Huaisang asked from outside his door.

Jiang Cheng’s suspicions were confirmed at once when he heard that dreadful ‘we’. Nie Huaisang had returned not with news but with company – company Jiang Cheng still wasn’t sure he was ready to see.

“…fine,” he still said, because there was no point in holding it off any further. He braced himself for Wei Wuxian to sweep into the room like a hurricane.

He was not expecting Jiang Yanli to walk in instead.

“Jiejie!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, and – damn him – felt his eyes start filling up with tears at once. He’d wanted so badly to have her with him during this excruciating process, and she’d even offered, writing him a letter full of concern about the ‘complications’ he was apparently struggling with. But she’d been safe in the Jin sect and he wouldn’t have been able to bear the guilt if something had happened to her on the way to see him.

And that meant he couldn’t say anything, not even in letters that were safe, not even in code, because if he’d so much as breathed a word about what was actually happening, she would have insisted on coming no matter what.

“A-Cheng!” she exclaimed, and rushed over. “Oh, A-Cheng, why didn’t you tell me…”

“I wanted to you to stay safe,” he sniffed. “Travel is so dangerous, and if something happened because of me –”

“Oh, A-Cheng…” She wrapped her arms around him. “I just wish I’d been here for you. You must have been so scared!”

“I have nightmares that say he was mostly just really angry,” Nie Huaisang put in, unhelpful as always; Jiang Cheng didn’t even bother to spare him a glance.

“You were here,” he assured her. “You sent me soup every week; I ate that when I couldn’t keep anything else down –”

A particularly vicious surge of late-onset morning sickness. It’d been a bad ten days.

“You still should’ve told us,” and that was Wei Wuxian, standing in the door next to Nie Huaisang with his shoulders up by his ears defensively, but Jiang Cheng was curled up in his sister’s arms so even if Wei Wuxian was horribly disappointed in him he would be able to handle it.

With Jiang Yanli there, he could handle anything.

“Probably should have,” he agreed, because Wei Wuxian was right. Opting to carry A-Lian at all was a stupid risk to have taken in the first place, given the likelihood of dying in childbirth and leaving the Jiang sect without a leader during their time of need, but – well, that’d been a risk he’d accepted the first time around when he’d given himself up to save Wei Wuxian. It hadn’t seemed so bad the second time, even though he knew he risked wasting all of Wei Wuxian’s hard work in rescuing and getting his core back. “Didn’t, though. You want to hold the brat?”

“Of course I want to hold the brat!” And when Jiang Cheng looked over, Wei Wuxian was smiling. Smiling. “I have to hold him! He’s my shizi!”

“What are you naming him?” Jiang Yanli asked as Wei Wuxian reached over to pick A-Lian up.

“…Jiang Lian,” Jiang Cheng finally admitted, and any embarrassing comments Nie Huaisang might have had to say about it – Jiang Cheng expected whooping in triumph, to be perfectly honest – were drowned out by A-Lian abruptly howling in indignation that this strange person had dared pick him up.

“Jiang Cheng! Jiang Cheng! The baby’s crying!” Wei Wuxian wailed. He sounded like a baby himself.

“Oh for the – give him here!” The second A-Lian returned to Jiang Cheng’s arms, the crying stop and the baby settled back down. He looked a little smug, even.

“It seems A-Lian likes A-Cheng the best,” Jiang Yanli said, covering her mouth with a smile. “Can I try?”

There were still tears, though not quite as many.

“He’ll get used to you eventually,” Jiang Cheng said, as if he wasn’t preening at his son’s excellent taste. “If you stick around, that is.”

“As if you’ll be able to get rid of us,” Wei Wuxian huffed, and that made something warm and happy and glowing appear in Jiang Cheng’s chest. “You know, it’s really unfair, Jiang Cheng! I put in all this work and effort into developing demonic cultivation and inventing all sorts of new things, and in a mere ten months you managed to make something even better.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help the laugh that broke free, his heart singing happily – Wei Wuxian didn’t hate him, wasn’t disappointed in him, was happy for him. “It wasn’t really something I was actively working on.”

“Rude. No need to rub it in.”

And just because Jiang Cheng was Jiang Cheng, he had to affirmatively check: “You’re not upset, are you?”

“Only that you robbed us of the opportunity to spoil you rotten,” Wei Wuxian said. “Oh, and for having Nie Huaisang tell me about it – I only found out because he and his brother were betting on the gender.”

Jiang Cheng twisted around in Jiang Yanli’s arms to glare at Nie Huaisang.

“I lost,” Nie Huaisang said, as if that would make things better, and weirdly enough it sort of did. “Never bet against da-ge.”

Jiang Cheng thought about it and nodded. That seemed like a good rule, no matter the circumstances – and anyway, if that meant that Nie Mingjue was there when Wei Wuxian was told, that was all the better. As far as Jiang Cheng was concerned, there was nothing in the world that Nie Mingjue couldn’t handle.

He wished he could one day be even half of what Nie Mingjue was. Confident and self-assured, an excellent sect leader beloved by all, a war leader and a filial son, righteous and terrifying…

“I hope he won something good off of you,” he told Nie Huaisang, who grimaced at him in a way that suggested Nie Mingjue really had won something good. “You deserve it.”

“You have no sympathy for me,” Nie Huaisang whined.

“Forget sympathy for you, what about sympathy for me?” Wei Wuxian put in. “‘Oh, hi, Wei Wuxian, nice to see you, been a long time, guess what, your shizi’s a boy!’”

Okay, that sounded really funny actually. Jiang Cheng kind of regrets missing it.

He smirked at Wei Wuxian, who saw it and made a rude gesture in return.

“It was traumatizing,” Wei Wuxian said with a sniff. “Really, truly. Shijie, you need to make me some soup to help me get over it.”

“No way,” Jiang Cheng said at once. “If she’s making soup, she’s making it for me.”

“You’ve apparently been getting her soup every week for the past few months; I deserve it more!”

“I’m the one getting my chest gnawed off by a wild animal three times a day –”

“I can make enough for both of you,” Jiang Yanli said patiently. “Nie-gongzi, is there a kitchen..?”

“I’ll show you the way,” Nie Huaisang said with a grin. “I’m eager to see how this famous soup gets made. I had to beg Jiang-xiong for three weeks to get a single spoonful, and it was worth every minute of it.”

“You flatter me…”

They left together, and Jiang Cheng used the opportunity to scrub the tear tracks off his face as best as he could.

“It really was pretty traumatizing,” Wei Wuxian said, pointedly only looking at an increasingly sleepy A-Lian instead of seeing what Jiang Cheng was doing. “Not as traumatizing as the lecture Chifeng-zun gave me afterwards about how badly I’ve been behaving.”

“Badly?” Jiang Cheng said, frowning. “What do you mean, you’ve been fine; the effect your demonic cultivation has been having against the Wens alone –”

“No, I haven’t been,” Wei Wuxian said, and his tone was uncharacteristically serious. “Not because of the demonic cultivation, but because I haven’t been standing by your side the way I promised I would.”

“You’re doing your best,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. “You have demonic cultivation now, and that means you can do a lot more things – it makes sense for your to be at the front line.”

“I’m not saying that I shouldn’t be at the front line. I’m saying that I promised you that you’d be my sect leader, that I’d follow you, and instead I keep treating you like you’re still my shidi. Making decisions on your behalf, insisting on doing things my way because I think I’m right…” Wei Wuxian shook his head. “I got used to doing things that way, all these years. But things are different now. You’re my sect leader. Decisions like how to best deploy me are your decision, not mine – if you want me by your side instead of on the front, I should do that; if you want me to lead the Jiang sect cultivators, I should be doing that. I can try to persuade you that my plan is better, but in the end, if I’m going to be part of the Jiang sect, I need to accept that it’s your word that’s final, because anything else would be disrespectful – and I don’t want to disrespect you, Jiang Cheng. Sect Leader Jiang.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jiang Cheng said, words sharp but only because otherwise he’d have to acknowledge that he was crying again. He hadn’t even known he’d wanted to hear that from Wei Wuxian until he had – he hadn’t realized how important it was that Wei Wuxian finally acknowledged him, that Wei Wuxian thought he was capable of being sect leader; he hadn’t realized how much his feelings had been tangled up by the fact that Wei Wuxian still treated him as if he was just a foolish child that didn’t know better. “Everyone else can call me that, but you call me Jiang Cheng, okay? Always.”

He reached over and grabbed Wei Wuxian around the shoulders, drawing him into a tight one-armed embrace.

“Watch the baby,” Wei Wuxian said, as if he wasn’t hugging back just as hard. “Don’t drop my shizi because you’re not paying attention.”

“I’m not going to drop him,” Jiang Cheng said, grateful for the mostly-a-joke. “Does that – does that mean you’re coming back to the Jiang sect? For real this time?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian said. “I am. No more running around outside, I promise.”

Jiang Cheng’s hands were busy, holding his shidi in one and his son in the other, so he had to bury his face into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder to help stop the flow of tears. “Wei Wuxian,” he said. “You really don’t – you’re not angry at me?”

“Why would I be angry at you?” Wei Wuxian said, pulling back and frowning at him and then frowning even more when Jiang Cheng made a flailing sort of gesture with his head towards A-Lian. “For - for that?! Jiang Cheng, it wasn’t your fault you got captured!”

It sort of was, actually, and Jiang Cheng has always been a terrible liar; he shouldn’t have let his insecurities get away from him enough to even ask, because now Wei Wuxian’s eyes were the ones filling up with tears. He’d never been an idiot.

“You didn’t,” he insisted, and his hands were white-knuckled where he grabbed onto Jiang Cheng’s arms. He was probably leaving bruises, and neither of them cared. “Jiang Cheng, tell me you didn’t! Don’t – in the marketplace, when the Wens were about to find me – Jiang Cheng…!”

“Someone needed to avenge our parents, and you were the better choice!” Jiang Cheng blurted out. “And I was right, wasn’t I? You did it! You even invented demonic cultivation –”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “There wasn’t any other way out of the Burial Mounds, and now I’m stuck, Jiang Cheng – you don’t understand, it’s not just, I don’t – I can’t – it’s demonic cultivation or nothing for me, and when the war ends, when it stops being useful and starts being horrifying, the entire cultivation world is going to turn against me, and I can’t bring you down with me –”

“Why are you talking like it’s the only type of cultivation you can do anymore?” Jiang Cheng demanded. “How can one type of cultivation block you from doing another? That doesn’t make any sense – even if it did block you, you could just stop, it’s not like you don’t have a golden core –”

Wei Wuxian didn’t say anything.

“You have a golden core,” Jiang Cheng said again, more urgently this time. “Wei Wuxian, you have a golden core, right? You didn’t –” He was starting to panic. “It was Wen Chao that threw you into the Burial Mounds, wasn’t it? He said it himself that that was what he did, and where there’s Wen Chao, there’s Wen Zhuliu – did he melt your core? And I took your name when we went to Baosan Sanren’s mountain, I took your birthright away from you –”

“Jiang Cheng, no! That’s not what happened!”

“You told me to tell her I was you!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, because what else could it be? Baosan Sanren was a true immortal, powerful enough to fix a golden core, but everyone knew that her disciples weren’t allowed back onto the mountain once they’d left – the gift she’d given him, reviving his core, that must have been a once-in-a-lifetime offer. “I told her I was you so she’d heal me and now she won’t heal you; I did to you what Mother was always afraid you’d do to me –”

“I lied!” Wei Wuxian cried out, and he sounded as if his heart was being torn out of his chest. “I lied, Jiang Cheng, stop trusting me so much! There’s no Baosan Sanren, no mountain; just me, making stupid decisions on your behalf again, because I’m arrogant, because I think I know better, because I –”

“What did you do?” Jiang Cheng said. His lips felt numb. His whole body felt numb. “Wei Wuxian, what did you do –”

A-Lian burst into tears.

That knocked them both out of their self-absorption, turning at once to see what was wrong with the baby.

“Did we jostle him?” Wei Wuxian asked anxiously once they’d gotten A-Lian a little calmer. “We didn’t hurt him, did we?”

“I think we were just being too loud,” Jiang Cheng said after concluding his inspection. “And anyway, he’s kind of a blob right now – you pinch or pull at him and he goes back the way he used to be. The doctors all say that babies are very flexible.”

“A little bun,” Wei Wuxiand agreed. “With just a little dusting of sesame on top.”

Jiang Cheng looked at the very few scraps of black hair A-Lian had managed to grow. “…he does kind of look like that, doesn’t he? Come on, A-Lian, calm down, it’s okay, we’ll stop yelling, we promise –”

“Really?” Wei Wuxian said. He sounded skeptical. “You’re going to stop yelling?”

“Shut up, you sound like Nie Huaisang. Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me what you did…you gave me yours, didn’t you?”

No wonder his core had felt different, stronger, when he’d woken up – he’d assumed it was Baosan Sanren giving him a gift, but in reality it was only that Wei Wuxian was a better cultivator than he was, that he’d strengthened himself more.

No wonder, too, that his core had felt familiar – he’d pressed his ear against Wei Wuxian’s belly a thousand times, feeling the warmth of it, and he’d mistaken that familiarity for it being his.

Wei Wuxian nodded, and Jiang Cheng scowled. “Can it be reversed?”

“Absolutely not,” Wei Wuxian said at once. “For one thing, I wouldn’t agree; for another, it was only a fifty-fifty chance of it working successfully the first time, I’m not taking that risk again. Anyway, I have demonic cultivation now, and if we traded back, you’d need to be the demonic cultivator, and what would that do to the Jiang sect’s reputation?”

Jiang Cheng hated it when Wei Wuxian had a point.

“Especially now that we have an heir,” Wei Wuxian added, reaching out to rub A-Lian’s head. “You’ve got to make sure the Jiang sect is thriving so that you’ll have something good to hand down to him.”

Jiang Cheng really hated it when Wei Wuxian had a point.

“I can’t believe you did that for me,” he said.

“I can’t believe you got captured for me,” Wei Wuxian rebutted. But that wasn’t the same at all, it was –

Okay, maybe there were a few superficial similarities.

“At least that explains why you’ve been so distant,” he said, shaking his head and smoothing A-Lian’s minimal hair down as the baby started to fall asleep again. “I thought you just didn’t trust me to be a good sect leader…”

“What? No! Jiang Cheng, you’re a great sect leader. I just didn’t want to risk dragging you down.”

“How can you drag us down? I’m literally using your golden core to lead the sect!”

“It’s yours now,” Wei Wuxian said. “I built it up, but I can’t decide on how you use it – everything you’ve done since then, that’s still yours. You know that, right? It’s all still you. Your achievements, not mine. Saying it’s mine would be like saying that every person that Chifeng-zun has ever defeated was actually the triumph of whoever forged Baxia for him.”

Jiang Cheng would murder anyone who dared to say something like that, except he’d never get the chance to because Nie Huaisang would have ruined their life before he’d even gotten started.

“Fine,” he said. “But you’re still not dragging us down. We’ll just have to be careful, that’s all – we can even use it to our advantage: whenever we need something to happen that we can’t really admit to, we have you do it, excuse it as being because of the influence of your demonic cultivation, and tell everyone we’ll get right on fixing it right away. Just the way Father used to do with Mother’s temper tantrums.”

“…wait, those were staged?”

“Well, some of them were, anyway,” Jiang Cheng said. He was mostly sure. “But you have to run anything really crazy by me first, okay?”

“Right,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding. “Uh – does that count past actions?”

Jiang Cheng wasn’t even surprised. “What’d you do?”

“Promised a safe harbor to one of the branch families of the Wen sect?”

Jiang Cheng might be gullible where his shixiong was concerned, but he wasn’t dumb. “Wen Qing and Wen Ning? They’re the ones that helped you do – what you did.”

Wei Wuxian nodded guiltily.

“Well, in that case, I can hardly turn them down, can I?” Jiang Cheng said, pretending to grumble. “That’d make me ungrateful. Fine; I retroactively authorize your offer, they can come be guest disciples at the Jiang sect –”

Wei Wuxian hugged him again.

“If you wake the baby up again I will kill you,” Jiang Cheng said, but he hugged him back.

“I think they’re done,” Nie Huaisang’s voice drifted in from the door, and they both turned to look.

Jiang Yanli’s eyes were red, suggesting that she’d been listening – and Jiang Cheng hated that, hated that he’d ever caused her pain or sadness; his jiejie deserved the best things in life, always, not more pain and disappointment and everything he brought with him. But true to form she didn’t say anything, only smiled and said, “I knew A-Xian and A-Cheng would talk it out eventually.”

“Bet you didn’t predict the baby,” Nie Huaisang chirped, and then cowered when all three of them glared at him. “Sorry, sorry. Please ignore me.”

“In the future, there will be no such secrets, understood?” Jiang Yanli said to them, with more steel than usual in her soft voice. “A-Xian will tell us before he does something crazy, and A-Cheng won’t not tell us when something important happens –”

“Well, it’s hardly likely to happen a second time,” Jiang Cheng protested, but not very strongly.

“Hey, don’t be so hasty,” Nie Huaisang said. “We could want more kids after we get married.”

“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said. “When did –”

“We are not getting married!” Jiang Cheng bellowed. It was a good thing that A-Lian apparently found Jiang Cheng’s yelling soothing, or else he would’ve woken up again. “Nie Huaisang, stop telling people we’re getting married!”

“I don’t tell people we’re getting married, I only tell you!”

“That’s not better!”

“Wow,” Wei Wuxian said to Jiang Yanli, voice deliberately pitched obnoxiously loud. “It’s almost like they’re married already –”

“Wei Wuxian! I will throw something at your head, just watch me!”

“Just don’t throw the baby!”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #content warning: feelings

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tanakavox · 3 years

Text

A look into the multiverse chapter 5

Soooo. Due to post limit im gonna have to reblog this post with the rest. Just tell y'all when you wonder where the rest is lol. Anyways intro for Winter is done by ExiledDarkness. Everything else is all meeee! On with the post.

A flash of light blinds everyone in the room. As it dies down, Winter Schnee is shown to be standing in the middle of the room.

"Winter?!" Weiss exclaims in shock. The rest of the cast, except for Qrow who groans in annoyance, keeps silent as Weiss explains to Winter about the situation they're in.

Winter nods. "I see. How interesting. I usually wouldn't do something like this but it appears that I have been given no other choice."

"Yeah, that seems to be the case with everything going on in my life." Jaune says while scratching his head.

The screen's light flickers on again and shows a boy setting up his computer and putting a helmet on his head. The sound of the computer starting up is heard.

"Link start!" With those words a flash of light appears with lines of color streaking across the screen.

"That voice sounded familiar …" Winter muttered to herself

"What was that Winter? Weiss asked, turning to her sister.

"Ah. It's nothing"

"Ah. Sword art online." The boy thinks to himself, sighing wistfully. "It's been a while since the beta. Wonder if they change anything?

A man in his early 20s with white hair looks and sees that ads plague the area around him.

"Oh c'mon guys, really? That's just disgusting." The man said to no one, his disgust at the ads was apparent.

"Yeah, seriously. That's just annoying. Qrow said with a grimace.

"Active Adblocker" A screen appeared in front of the young saying it was 29.99 for the Adblocker DLC. The man chuckled darkly. "I'm gonna burn this F***r to the ground.

"Please do!" Nora said a manic grin on her face.

The scene cuts to Blond man with long hair being tackled by a pig, the man blonde groaning in pain.

"That's Sun." Blake said almost immediately.

"How can you tell? Yang asked.

"I just know."

"Well he just got his ass kicked by a pig." Jaune said, laughing a bit

"Wow, Congrats. You were defeated by a pig." The white hair man was there looking down at Blonde unimpressed.

"F**k you man, that's like a pig from hell! The blonde cried, looking at the boar in terror.

"Really?" The white hair man smirked, and picked up a rock and threw it at the boar's ass killing it. It exploded into shards and a screen showed the exp he had got from killing it.

"Wow. This either that blonde guy sucks that bad or the other guy just that good." Mercury said with a grin.

"My god." He gasped with a shit eating grin on his face. "I've stumbled across the most powerful weapon in the game"

"Stop" The blonde whimper.

"The Mithril Pebble of pig smithing!"

"Please stop."

The white hair man takes a deep breath of air as the Blonde groans.

"My god, this sounds like something Whitely would do." Weiss said with an annoyed look.

"For you see, long ago, this pebble was forged in the fiery pits of tartarus,by the grand blacksmith of Lucifer himself. In a time before the world began…

The blonde facepalm as his party member continued. The sun had started to fall when the white haired man was finishing up.

"And thus, Mardoza, Guardian of the pebble, fell to his knees, and passed from this world, leaving behind the mighty weapon. For he knew... that one day, it's power would be required once more.

"Are you done?" The blonde asked.

"Yes." But then he whispered: The legacy of the pebble lives on.

"I have a feeling you get beat up a lot in real life." The blonde snarked.

"And he's using it as some kinda power fantasy cause he can't be that cool in real life." Yang added.

"Shut up! Here I have power!"

"Right, anyways, I've got a pizza coming, and I'm gonna meet up with some friends later.

So thanks for the quick tutorial on pig slaying and the not so quick tutorials on…. rocks…Shirou Yuki?" The blonde slowly wording out the other's username.

"Hey,no problem. I had fun taunting you." Shirou said with a grin. "Ballsdeep69"

"Yeah that's Sun." Blake said, shaking her head. "Only he would come up with such a dumb name."

Meanwhile Winter had a good idea who Shirou Yuuki was, but didn't want to say anything until she was 100% sure.

Ballsdeep69 laughs a bit. "Yeah it's uh, it's just a joke name. Just a character to dick around with while I get a hang of the game. I'm gonna make my real character later."

"Yeah yeah. No, I get it."

Shirou and balls look at each other awkwardly for a while when Shirou breaks the silence. "So uh...your pizza?"

"Right,right logging out." Balls swipes the air with his right hand and goes to log out but notices something odd.

"Hey,Shirou?" Balls called out. "Um, Totally noob question, but how do I log out?

"Are you serious, man?" Shirou asked exasperated.

"Yeah, Really dude? How hard is it to logout?" Jaune asked just as exasperated.

"Hey this Nervegear man. I can't Alt-F4 this sh*t.

Shirou sighs. "Alright fine. It's right…" He looked at his menu screen in confusion. "Here?"

"Oh thanks, player's guide." Balls deadpan.

"No it's here. But it's just blank."

Balls turns back to his menu and something catches his eye. "Oh wait, something scrolling Across mine. HahahahahahahaHAHAha"

"I get it." Shirou said with a frown.

"Wait, Wait, there's more. Ha."

"Riveting."

"Wait so they can't log out? What happened?" Ruby asked the rest of the confused viewers

"Eh no worries I'll just take the nervegear off like SO!" Balls reaches around his head and tries to take it off to no effect.

"Hey, dumbass, It doesn't work like that." Shirou sheerned. "The Nervegear disables your motor function so you don't move around in the game. Don't you remember all those videos of the beta testers?

The clip on Dustube plays, A man walking around in nerve gear is marlouving at the tech is shown. Someone, a friend of his walks up and offers a greeting to the man and he mistakes his friend for a troll and goes to pummel his friend into the ground.

It goes back to Shirou and Balls.

"So many lawsuits." Shirou muttered.

A few of the viewers had a good laugh at that.

"Uh, Do you feel tingly?" Balls asked before the two were transferred from mellow they were in a city square.

"No. Why?" Shirou asked casually. The two looked around and it seemed that other players were being teleported into the city square.

"What the hell is that?" Balls asked, looking at the sky going red.

"Well, I believe some people call it a Hexagon? Ain't 100% on that, gonna have to check my sources." Shirou snarked.

"Man f*ck off."

"I like this guy." Mercury said with a grin

The sky started to seem like it was starting to bleed.

"And The sky's bleeding" Shirou observed, not seeming to really care."

"Yeah, they are really pushing for that M rating." Balls repsoned on caring as much as Shirou.

"Wow the sky bleeds and they don't even care." Winter said.

"Probably because they know it's a video game, Ice Queen." Qrow reposned

A hooded figure appears flooding in the air. A wave of dangers fills most of the players in the area.

"Oh it's a person." Expect for one player.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Jaune Arc, Head programmer!"The figure greeted."

"Jaune made this game?" Ruby asked, looking towards the blond.

"Nice Vomit boy." Yang said slapping Jaune on the back. Jaune grunted a bit but smiled towards Yang.

"Welcome to the unparalleled online Sword art onli-" Jaune was interrupted by the player being to talk frantically among themselves. Jaune tried to get them to focus their attention on him by muting them, but ended up muting himself.

"He knows he muted himself right?" Balls asked.

"Give him a minute." Shirou mutters. Jaune unmuted himself.

A few laugh at Jaune's mistake as the Blonde himself facepalms at his mistake.

"Alright. Just realized what happened there. It's very funny. But right now, serious time. How many of you have seen Tron?" He was met with complete and utter silence. Jaune looked over the crowd and was met with blank stares, not counting Shirou. "W-what seriously?! None of you have seen Tron?! " Jaune asked, completely baffled. "I was really banking on that."

"Seriously?! No one had seen Tron?" Jaune all but screamed.

A few viewers didn't want to admit to not seeing Tron either.

Jaune cleared his throat, and proceeded to wing the entire thing. "Much like the world of warcraft, none of you are here by choice anymore. Unlike WoW, however, your being held here by me, not by a need to escape your empty f*cking lives. There is no longer any way to log out of Sword art online. If someone on the outside attempts to log you by removing your Nerve gear, well… Has anyone seen scanners?

Jaune once again looked and was once again met with silence.

"Uh Scanners. It's a movie…. Seriously?! He grumbles to himself about how the people here had no class and pulled up a clip of a man's head exploding. "Okay. That was from Scanners… and basically that.

"First Tron, now Scanners?!" Jaune facepalm.

"You just trapped god knows how many people in a video game, and you're worried about what movie they haven't seen?! Weiss retorted. Jaune flinched and wisely kept quiet.

The crowd gasped in shock.

"Finally seeing some gears turning, making progress."

"Why would you do such a thing?!" One player cried out.

"Stephen? Stephen is that you?" Jaune asked happily "How are you enjoying that advance copy?"

"I'm playing it with my family!" Stephen repiled.

"Oh, that's right!" The hooded figure laughed. "Happy birthday Timmy!"

Little Timmy began to cry.

"Aw, They grow up so fast." He said, sighing. " Cherish these moments Stephen. Cherish these moments. So as I was saying, the only way to keep the nervegear from going Gallager on your grey matter, is to make your way through castle Aincrad and beat Sword Art Online!"

"So you want us to beat a MMO?" A random player asked.

"Essentially."

"F*CK YOU!"

"That is the correct response when someone says to beat a MMO" Ren said.

"Is it really that bad?" Oscar asked and he receive a loud

"YES!"

"WOAH! Getting a lot of hostility here. Do not appreciate it."

"Well honestly!" The same player began,"When was the last time you heard of someone beating Everquest?"

"When was the last time you heard of someone playing Everquest?" Jaune fired back. There was a slight pause.

"That's fair."

"Everquest…. That's a deep cut." Qrow said, sighing thinking back.

"Anywho, for all you guys that wanted to play as girls, and you know who you are," Despite not seeing his face they could tell Jaune had a huge grin. "I've got a surprise for you!"

A mirror appeared in everyone's hands and a light filled the city.

A young boy, no older than 14 was where Shirou was. He still had the white hair and was wearing the same clothes but was more lankey and shorter than the man who was once there.

"Shirou Yuuki?" The boy turned and a familiar face was shown.

"Whitely?!" Weiss cried out at the sight of her brother.

"I knew it was him." Winter said. The username gave him away, Not only is it the username for when he goes on forums, Shirou Yuuki has the same meaning as his real name.

"How do you know what username he uses when he's online? Weiss asked her sister, a question that went unanswered.

"You're not a girl!" A fat player cried out.

"And you're not 17!" Another skinner one also cried out."

"I'm okay with this!"

"Me too!"

"LOVE KNOWS NO GENDER!" Someone shouted out.

"A wise seminent. Ozpin said sipping his coffee."

#rwby #look into the multiverse #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #whitely schnee #rwby weiss schnee #rwby winter schnee #headmaster ozpin #emerald sustrai #rwby mercury black #rwby nora valkyrie #lie ren #rwby salem #rwby mercury #sao abridged

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

Text

Fic Prompts: Revenge of the Star Wars Wednesday

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the dashboard... (It’s an entire chapter of the same au as This Free Day Thursday I did a ways back, where a splinter cell of the Rebellion hands Luke over to Vader in a deal with the devil. The context: Vader got called away before getting a chance to tell Luke what was going on, and had to leave the poor guy in his hyperbaric egg chamber of doom. Which is air conditioned all to heck because that suit gets toasty. Unfortunately, Luke is from a very warm climate, and high powered air conditioning does not agree with him. At all. He’s having a bad day by the time Vader gets back and Many Blankets are required.)

Luke dreamed of falling.

"Alright, Skywalker. This is your stop."

He saw Leia screaming.

"You're wrong! You're wrong!"

She was calling for him. He knew that she was.

"I'm here!" He tried to call back to her, "I'm here, Leia! Help me!"

But the wind scattered his words, and he fell.

He fell past Leia's horrified face, towards a range of mountains. Faces he might have recognized formed and disintegrated in the snow around him, and the wicked looking peak directly below.

With a choked cry, Luke flailed his arms and met with stiff resistance. Well. More soft than stiff. And heavy. Very heavy. Slowly, by degrees, Luke became aware of his surroundings. He could barely move. Something was holding him down on a-

A bed.

He was on a bed.

On a Star Destroyer.

Everything came back to Luke in a rush. Kobyvern. The handoff. The cell. The cold.

And Vader.

Luke opened his eyes. He didn't hear the respirator, but the sense of foreboding looming over him suggested that the dark lord was somewhere near. It was imperative that Luke not be so...so vulnerable when he returned.

Why couldn't he move?! Had he been strapped down? Panic flooded Luke's veins.

No no no, take it slow, Skywalker! Breathe in- breathe out.

When his heart had resumed a slightly more normal pace, Luke took a slow breath and tried to sit up.

This turned out to be more difficult than he'd expected. If he craned his neck, he could just make out heavy black cloth beneath the blankets, wound around him and pinning his arms to his sides. Well, that was one way of keeping someone from escaping. Arguably more embarrassing than handcuffs, but also preferable to them.

The amount of effort it took to free just one arm was a thorough enough distraction that Luke didn't hear the door hiss open. He pulled at the cape and blankets, already cursing the cold his free arm hinted at. It was tempting to nestle down into the pile of blankets -- there had to be at least four of them -- and let the warmth drag him back down into sleep. But that would doubtless be akin to trusting the hospitality of a Hutt. You didn't get something for nothing. There was going to be a price to pay for this, and Luke wasn't sure he'd be able to afford it.

Luke tried to push himself up into a sitting position and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand appeared from his peripheral vision to push him back against the pillows.

"Rest easy, son. You've had a hard day."

Vader had returned.

It was difficult to know what bothered Luke more: the uncharacteristic gentleness in Vader's hands, or that he'd called him son.

Luke recoiled as far from Vader as he could.

It wasn't that far.

"You are not in danger, young one. Be still." Vader held out a placating hand.

His jaw ached from clenching and chattering, but Luke gritted his teeth again nonetheless. "I'm s- s-s s'posed to b-believe that-t-t?"

Ugh. It was still cold outside the blankets.

He did not like that he could actually hear amusement in Vader's voice when the man answered, "If I wished harm to come to you, young one, do you really think you would be here?"

Luke picked at the covers and tried to scowl. But being in close proximity to Darth Vader for an extended period of time didn’t exactly bolster one’s courage. The most he could muster was an anxious frown. Don’t let him get to you. He’s manipulating you. Waiting for you to let your guard down. Then he’ll bring in the torture droid.

“Yeah.” He narrowed his eyes. “D-don’t trus-s-t you.”

Alright, that might’ve been a bit too blunt.

Vader inclined his head -- helmet? How much of that was his head? Did Luke actually want to know? -- and made a sound curiously like a sigh. “That is to be expected. We were not introduced under particularly favorable circumstances.”

Luke stared at him incredulously. Introduced? As if they were diplomats crossing paths at a senator’s ball? Introduced?!

This was the man who just...slaughtered anything and anyone that got in his way. He was there for every horrible thing that happened to Leia. He was the reason Luke was stuck trying to figure out the Force on his own. He was the reason Luke was alone! And here he was, upset that Luke didn’t trust him?

“My medical droid informs me that your core temperature has...improved. But you are still feeling ill effects.” If Vader felt as awkward as he looked, he kept it out of his voice admirably. A little too calmly, he lifted a steaming cup from somewhere behind him and held it out.

Luke shrank back. “I d-don’t want it.”

Vader’s shoulders tensed, just a fraction. “It is not poisoned, young one. Nor does it contain a truth drug, or whatever else outlandish theories you have concocted.”

“You c-could be l-l-lying.”

“I could. But I have no reason to be.”

Luke could think of a few reasons. Pure cruelty came to mind. Or lulling him into a false sense of security. After all the bluster about capturing the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, having a tea party with a dark lord wasn’t really on the agenda.

He jumped when the cup was pressed into his hands.

“You do not have to drink it. But the heat will benefit you.” Vader leaned back into a chair that most certainly had not been there before. “Transitioning from Tatooine to the climate of long-term space travel is...taxing.”

No, transitioning from getting thrown out of a ship to getting locked in the Ice Pod is “taxing”, Luke thought, glaring into the cup.

Whatever liquid was inside, it was dark, and smelled almost earthy. Not caf, some kind of tea, perhaps? The steam curled up to bathe his face, and he could begrudgingly admit that it was doing him a world of good.

“My meditation chamber is not meant to hold such low temperatures for such an extended period of time,” Vader said suddenly. “The General’s summons, I fear, did not give me adequate time to reset the cooling system. You were never meant to experience that.”

Luke didn’t care if it was childish or not. He pulled his knees slowly up to his chest -- fighting through entirely too many blankets -- and rested the cup on them. He refused to look up. He would not make eye contact with his father’s killer.

Actually, where even are his eyes under there?

“D-didn’t exp-p-pect the Empire to ap-p-p-pologize to a p-p-risoner,” he mumbled.

His stammer was decreasing, slowly. He thought a warm drink would certainly help, but he was not brave enough to risk whatever was in that cup.

“I would rather you did not think of yourself as a prisoner, but I understand that your experiences have not given you cause to believe otherwise,” Vader answered. “But you are correct: that was intended to be an apology. I will not allow such a thing to happen again.”

The cup seemed like porcelain. Impossibly delicate. But it held up well under Luke’s grip as it tightened. This was getting ridiculous. The handoff. The fall. The pod. The blankets. The tea.

“Just…”

Vader stilled. He cocked his head, as if listening intently. “Luke?”

It was too much.

He broke.

“Don’t c-c-call me that!”

“It is your name.”

“It’s m-m-my! Name!” Luke’s chest heaved. “You d-d-on’t use it! Stop p-p-pretending! I’m n-n-not going to tell you anyth-th-ing!”

I can’t, I can’t do this, Father. I didn’t want to cry, don’t let me cry!

Vader leaned forward again. “Why do you believe that I am pretending?”

Was he kidding?

Luke finally looked up at him. “Y-you k-kill Jedi,” he spat. “Like you k-killed my father.”

And that was what broke the facade.

“Enough.” Vader reached down and took the tea from Luke.

He set it on the tray and whirled back to face the boy.

“Listen to me,” he growled. “Whatever Kenobi told you, whatever wild fictions he spun about your past, he lied.”

Luke’s shoulders hitched. He pulled back against the wall and turned his face back to his knees. “I d-d-on’t believe you!”

“Look at me!”

Vader took his chin in one hand and pulled it up. “Look at me, Luke. He lied to you. And he lied to me. Why do you think I wear a mask? Do you even know what he did?”

“No no no-” Luke tried to shake his head. “W-why-?”

“Why would he lie to you?” Vader asked angrily. “Why, Luke, would he be so interested in making sure that you believed I killed your father? What did you do on Cymoon, before I knew your name?”

Vader’s anger shook the room, cutting the lights into fragments as shadow overtook them. But somehow, Luke didn’t feel that the anger was directed at him as much as it was at Obi-wan. They really had hated each other, then. But why would Obi-wan lie about his father’s death? He had his lights-

The lightsaber.

Luke’s gut churned.

Vader had his lightsaber now. His father’s lightsaber. And now it was in the possession of the man who had allegedly killed him.

Allegedly.

Allegedly?

Why was he even considering Vader’s words? This was Darth Vader! He was a liar- not this time

He was a monster -- maybe so

“W-what do you want?” Luke’s voice cracked. “I d-d-on’t understand!”

The hand on his chin pulled away without warning. The shadows retreated sullenly to pool around the chair. “I know.”

Vader raised his hand again. He hesitated when Luke flinched, then rested it on the crown of his head. “I know you don’t. Not yet. Use the Force, Luke.”

“What?”

Vader tilted his head back with a gentle push. “I know that you can. Stretch out with your feelings. What did you intend to do on Cymoon?”

It wasn’t enough to simply tell the boy the truth. He needed him to see. He needed him to understand. He was a pawn. They had both been pawns. For a moment he almost wished Kenobi lived, so that he could run him through again.

“What did you int-”

“Kill you!” Luke burst out. It came out with a tiny, exhausted sob. “I w-was going to kill you.”

“Because?”

“B-because you k-killed my-”

“Because you thought that I had killed your father,” Vader interrupted sternly. “Because Obi-wan sent you, untrained, untested, into battle having told you that I was your great enemy in some noble quest to avenge a father you never had the chance to meet.”

“Stop.” Luke didn’t want to hear this. This was a kind of torture after all, wasn’t it? It was emotional. Psychological. But there could be no tactical benefit in telling him these things. Why was Vader telling him these things? Why not just kill him and be done with it?

“Who took you from your mother?” Vader’s earlier question rang in Luke’s ears.

A trickle of sweat dried cold on the back of his neck. What did Darth Vader know about his mother?

Do you really want to pull on that thread, Luke?

“What do you want?” He tried. He tried so hard to keep the tears from coming. But he was tired and afraid, and so, so overwhelmed.

Vader’s hand smoothed his hair, disturbingly gentle. “I want you to understand that you are not alone, Luke. That you were never alone.”

He raised his other hand. Held Luke’s face between them.

“Do you know why Kenobi told you that I had killed your father?”

“Don’t-” Luke whispered brokenly. He couldn’t take it. Not this. Not him.

“Luke. Look at me. What does the Force tell you?”

“I don’t know-” Luke tried to pull away. Please don’t please don’t don’t tell me don’t change things don’t let it all be lies- “I don’t know!”

“I did not kill your father.”

It was said with such an air of finality that it rang through the Force, even with Luke’s muffled attempts to read it.

“No,” he agreed.

His world had a little crack, right at the edge. It was small now, but just the right pressure, and-

“I am your father.”

Crack.

#phew! that was a long one #long post #star wars wednesday #The Handoff au #The Handoff fic #star wars au #good lord that was a whole dang chapter I just threw at y'all #fic prompts #writing prompts #my aus #my fics #darth vader #luke skywalker #dangit vader #that could be a tag on its own lol #local dingus of a sith lord does not know the meaning of Tact or Subtlety

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