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romanarose · 1 year

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Triple Frontier Masterlist

A masterlist for all Triple Frontier fics

Tumblr messed up u links so im slowly trying to fix them! anything in bold SHOULD be goo to go. if i miss anything, let me know! If you really wanna readsomething and cant find it searching, send and ask and ill try to find it for you

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Leather and Lace (Completed): While on a mission, Pope, Fish, Benny and Will find a girl tied up in the basement of a drug lord, a victim of trafficking. She won't hardly talk or look at them. Will she learn to trust Santi? Will he be able to help her? ♥️🖤🌶

Match Made in Heaven: Benny and Will play matchmaker with you and Santi. It works.

Full: At a fundraiser, you are all dressed up and Santi can't help himself.

Santi with a Reader on her Period: You wake up with your period unexpectedly. So unexpected, that you have bled all over your boyfriend and his bed, and freak out. Santi tries to make it better.

Gross Reality: A sorta sequel to the last period fic with Santi but this time with the gross gory details of the reality of periods.

Hello Sunshine, Won’t You Stay?: A song fic to a Bruce Springsteen song for @astroboots fantastic series, Homecoming

Honest Mistake (Co written with the wonderful @missdictatorme) : Santi accidentally forgets your birthday, bringing the delta force on one last mission to not let you find out.

If You Wanna Be Wild ft. Javier Peña: Javi and his new partner, a young Santiago Garcia straight out the military, begin to take down Lorea with the help of Candy, a charming and beautiful prostitute.

Please Don't Go?: You are going through an extreme depressive episode, and Santiago is afraid of leaving you alone.

Benjamin "Benny" Miller

Just to be Your Man: You go to a bar with the express intent of hooking up with someone; something you never do. Will Benny Miller be that man?

Puzzle Pieces: You’re Toms girlfriend and honestly, he’s a dick. All the guys know it, all the guys tell him to be better, but Benny always finds a way to make it better himself.

Part one; You try to show off your finished puzzle

Part Two: Tom won’t look at your tomato’s

William "Ironhead" Miller

Temptation: Redfly’s estranged daughter comes back into his life, and this makes things difficult on Will Miller

Lucky: You are having a tough time, but Will is there for you.

He Didn't Have to Be: You and Will hit it off immediately, but being a single mom but a past, you didn't think that he'd be interested in you. You were wrong, and Will asks you on the sweetest date you could imagine.

For the Longest Time (series): Lorelei is suspicious of everyone around her, especially men. She’s jaded, but keeps running into this man and excepts something to be wrong about him… but he only ever treats her with kindness. When she really needs him, he’s there… but that leads to an unexpected turn in her life. Can she learn to trust him and the kind, loving found family he has?

Francisco "Catfish" Morales

Take Your Time (series): Taking place after Leather and Lace (but not necessary to read Leather and Lace before this), Frankie is struggling with his sobriety, and needs his friends and family to rally around him.

Partner in Crime: you have trouble orgasming, but Frankie is there to help you

Two or More

Awakening Series Masterlist: You find you and Santiago share a mutual fantasy; being shared with his friends

End of the Innocence: Not really a Triple Fontier fic but a fic based off a Triple Frontier fic, do what you must with that. A song Fic for Watch Your Step🖤

Benny Miller X Frankie Morales

Boys of Summer: Told over the series of summers, we follow Benny and Frankie as they meet, fall in love, fall apart, and come back together again.

I Won’t Be Afraid Anymore: A sequel to Boys Of Summer. Benny and Frankie figure things out as promised.

Take Care of You: Frankie wraps Ben’s hands before his fight.

Headcanons

TF Boys with a Reader with an ED

Love Langauges: Acts of Service

Love Languages: Physical Touch

Love Languages: Words of Affirmation

Love Languages: Quality Time

Love Languages: Gift Giving

#Triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago Garcia #Santiago Garcia reader #frankie morales #frankie morales reader #will miller #will miller reader #benjamin miller #benjamin miller reader

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theeblackmedusa · 1 year

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great mistakes 5/7 {attoye}

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

ao3 link

summary: "loving you had been my greatest mistake, but it's a mistake i'd make a million times."

pairing: okoye x attuma

warnings: angst if you squint, not quite smut but sexual content

a/n: i remixed some of the sirens' abilities bc i don't know if what i wrote is accurate to any kind of lore, but it works for this story so hopefully it isn't too far off.

a/n 2: once again, my keep reading option does not work, so i apologize for how lengthy this post is.

Attuma woke up at an ungodly hour, head full of swirling thoughts. He couldn't grasp why everything was moving so fast, what could have driven a weak surface dweller to even think of going against the alliance. He was no fan of the surface world, but he knew that the Wakandans were smart enough to not attack them. Both sides knew it was not a war that Wakanda could win.

He stood and began pacing, attempting to put pieces of a jumbled puzzle together. The pieces, however, weren't clicking. No matter how many times he played it over in his mind, the why did not make sense. He was even having trouble with the how. Talokan was packed full of trained fighters, it was practically a requirement. From the time they could walk, they were learning to defend themselves and their nation. He could think back to his days as a young trainee, just a child being taught to throw his first punch. He and Namora had spent most of their childhood sparring with each other and trying to prove who would dominate the next generation of Talokanil warriors. He remembered the two of them always throwing fits if they lost to the other, claiming that they'd been cheated of a win. Young Namora claiming that Attuma's siren song was unnaturally powerful and Young Attuma that Namora kept giving him visions that distracted him.

And just like that, the pieces connected. It made sense, how a Talokanil could fall so easily. Namora's involvement was the only way that it would make sense. He wasted no time finding her, blood boiling as he made his way to Namora's quarters. He'd shocked her by throwing the door open as he entered, making her whip around and throw a spear in his direction at the possibility of an attacker in her home. He caught it quickly before throwing it down, the tip jamming into the ground.

"Who did you give the vision to?" he questioned accusingly, voice raised to a level that was rare for his relatively calm demeanor. "You made the Wakandan kill him!"

Namora's brow raised and she cocked her head to the side, looking at him without portraying any notion that she knew what he was talking about.

"What do you speak of, Attuma?" she sighed, turning back to her mirror to finish the braid she'd been working on before he'd stormed into her home.

"Do not insult my intelligence, Namora! Which Wakandan was it?"

She shook her head, finishing the braid's end and turning back to him when she was satisfied with how it looked.

"I would never dare to do such a thing," she played, eyes rolling at his confidence.

"Do you not understand the graveness of the situation you have created?" he questioned, only praying that he can get through to her and save both nations the unavoidable casualties that will come with another war. "You must fix this or the alliance will fail. People will die, our people!"

Namora shook her head, inhaling deeply. She figured there was no longer a point in trying to hide her doings from Attuma. He knew her too well for that. Maybe she'd even be able to convince him that she'd done the right thing, that K'uk'ulkan and the alliance were going to drive Talokan into the ground.

"This alliance was a mistake from the very beginning," she began. "It was bound to fall apart, and all I have done is give Talokan the opportunity to come out on top."

She turned back to him and turned her head to the side, eyeing him intensely. Namora was smart enough to know what is curiosity was about. Not too long ago, Attuma would not have hesitated to follow her lead had she done something like this. Hell, he would probably be the one leading. This change of heart obviously came from his allowing Okoye to get inside of his head, to change his priorities.

"You need to get your head on straight, Attuma," Namora told him. "She is not as devoted to you as you are to her. She will kill you if she must. Will you be able to kill your precious warrior when the time comes?"

She was well aware that Attuma loved hard and that if he was as in deep with Okoye as Namora figured he was, there was no way that he would be the one to drive a blade into her back if the opportunity arose. His silence spoke for him and he stood defensively in front of her before taking a few steps toward her. Before he could threaten her, she was shaking her head at him.

"She has made you weak, Attuma, but it is an easy fix."

"Namora, if you so much as-"

She laughed at him before sighing, bringing a hand up to condescendingly pat his shoulder.

"Your warrior will be safe. For now," she told him. "When she is to die, it will be honorably. She has earned a warrior's death, and I will happily to provide it to her. It will be nothing personal. It will be for the good of Talokan."

For a moment, he contemplated explaining it all to K'uk'ulkan, wondered if he would be able to convince him now that his heart had already been turned in the direction of war. He inhaled, knowing that the chances were slim with Namora already in K'uk'ulkan's ear. He knew the only way to bring an end to the madness, but that way was currently giving him the silent treatment. He was determined to fix it, though. Attuma decided that he would have to make his way to Wakanda, deal with the stares he'd get from her Border Tribe as he made his way to her home.

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Okoye had woken up earlier normal and could hardly think straight from sleep deprivation. The entirety of her night had either been spent missing Attuma or fearing her future in Wakanda if she sided with Shuri. The journaling was of no use because whenever she tried to open up the vault of her worries, she couldn't stop thinking about if she was any better than W'Kabi if she decided to follow through with Shuri's plan. He'd betrayed the throne and she was very close to doing the same, so what was separating them? The good of Wakanda? That was W'Kabi's same argument. Okoye was so used to knowing what to do, strategizing and finding a way around potential problems, but this felt impossible.

Okoye let the water fall over her body, head submerged completely as the water streamed from the shower. Her mind never gave her a break from memories of her failings constantly flashing through her head.

"Isidenge," she muttered. Idiot.

She ran her hands over her face, wiping away the water as she mentally berated her past self as she replayed asking Queen Mother to let Shuri tag along. She should have known Shuri wasn't ready, should've anticipated that Talokan was as strong as Namor had threatened in the beginning. She should've done a lot of things different.

A tear ran down Okoye's cheek and she wiped it immediately before turning the shower off, beginning to feel lightheaded from the steam. She stepped out of the shower carefully, wrapping herself in her towel and cracking the bathroom door open to let out some of the steam in the room. She turned the cold water on and began splashing it in in her face to try and cool down momentarily.

As she reached for a paper towel to dry her soaked face, she heard a familiar rapping coming from her back door. She was alert immediately. There was a part inside of her that knew very well that he would never bring her any more harm than he'd done before their involvement with each other began, but she couldn't help the small twinge of doubt that struck her whenever she thought of trusting him now.

Okoye inhaled deeply, making her way to the door and looking out to be greeted by him holding up the same goat that had been stalking him only days before. Her brows furrowed as she realized she was unable to see M20 anywhere in sight. He'd been stationed right outside of her home and now he'd suddenly disappeared. As if on queue, she heard the great beast growl for Attuma's attention before coming into view in the small viewing hole.

"You get no more fruit! You have eaten all that I had for you!" Attuma voiced, turning to the animal, not letting his guard down after denying such a dangerous thing food.

M20 growled again, and although Okoye knew that he wouldn't attack Attuma because of his familiarity with the man, she opened the door to save Attuma the fear. His head snapped when he heard the door creak. She pulled her towel tighter around her under his gaze.

"Release my goat," she commanded, ignoring the way his eyes were dragging down her barely covered body. Attuma obliged by gently placing it on the ground behind him and watching as it ran free. "Why are you here, and what have you done to take down M20's guard?"

"We need to speak and I did a small amount of research. The beast does not eat meat," he answered confidently, proud to show off his newfound knowledge to Okoye. "May I come in?"

She shook her head in disbelief at him and began to close the door in his face, which was Attuma's final straw. He didn't have it in him anymore to go another moment with her holding any kind of disdain for him. The larger man blocked the door with his hand and kept it open, keeping his face within view in the crack of the door.

"Attuma-"

"Let me speak. Please."

Okoye took in his pleading eyes. She could tell that he was trying. That explaining would mean a lot to him. The woman inhaled deeply in preparation for whatever it was he had to say to her.

"Well go on," she instructed impatiently, trying to avoid his gaze as he stared at her with those dark eyes that had a tendency to make her heart melt.

"Namora has...a gift. She has been using it to her advantage since we were small. This mess, it was of her doing. She caused the murder."

Okoye's eyes narrowed at him, but she released the door and stepped aside to allow him in and give him the opportunity to speak. He'd intrigued her now.

"It was not a murder," she corrected, backing further away from the door as he entered her home.

"I was unaware that it had happened. I never misled you," he told her, his eyes letting her see his sincerity. They always held the truth. "It was not until I came to K'uk'ulkan that I knew of any tensions. I have recently confronted Namora, and I am sure that she is behind it."

She could believe it. Although, her belief would be solely based off of what Attuma had told her of Namora, how she never wished for the alliance, how she'd do anything to keep Talokan safe. Okoye respected that, respected her dedication to her country, but she was sure she didn't have it in her to spark an entire war for Wakanda. It was extreme, but it wasn't hard to believe that Namora could go to that extreme and even exceed it.

"You went along with Namor's plan to kill our brother after you knew. You helped spill Wakandan blood, my blood without any explanation," she pointed out, trying to find more reasons to keep him at a distance.

"He is my king. I must obey the throne the same as you," he responded, taking a step closer to her and refusing to let her distance him any more than she already had.

She wanted to leave, wanted to escape, but that wasn't an option for her. How could she when Shuri was about to make a decision that could truly mean the end of Wakanda? This, she decided, would be her chance to redeem herself. To who, she wasn't sure, but she needed to figure out another plan. A plan that wouldn't provoke Namor any further and push their nations past the breaking point.

She wondered if Attuma ever thought about straying away, how much sacrifice would be too much for him? What would be the straw to break the great Attuma's back?

Okoye turned from him and walked into her living room, hearing his heavy footsteps ringing behind her.

"It never ends does it? There is always something to deal with," she sighed, taking a seat on her couch.

Attuma sat beside her quietly. She was right. The life they'd chosen didn't provide breaks. Something was always happening even if they weren't major somethings. But in that moment, he knew that if anyone deserved even a second of peace, it was her. He wasn't sure she'd had a break in her entire career with the way that she pushed herself in every aspect of life.

"What if we simply forget for a moment?" he questioned, hands coming to her shoulders.

Okoye sighed at his touch, not realizing just how much she'd missed it until it was there again.

"We do not get to forget. All we get to do is handle things," she responded.

"Then we will handle it together," he suggested softly. "By each other's side. We will handle it."

She turned to look at him with a raised brow, finding it difficult to believe that he could ever step outside of his duty just to try and figure out the mess that their countries had found themselves in.

"Oh, will we?" she questioned, earning a nod in response, his gentle touch making its way from her shoulders down to her arms.

"We will. We will handle it and the rest of the world together."

She looked in his eyes once more and found nothing but his honesty, and Bast, she hated him for it. She hated him for being so honest and for caring so much and for making everything okay even though it was as far from okay as possible. She turned away from his gaze, closing her eyes and laughed lightly in disbelief. For all of that "hatred", it paled in comparison to the way she "hated" him for being her weakness.

"Exactly how will we do that?" she asked him softly. "How will we handle this situation between our nations? More people are going to die."

"We can figure that part out later," he told her. "For now, we take a moment to forget."

Okoye heard the click of his mask and saw his large hand resting it on her coffee table out of the corner of her eye before he craned his head down to press a feathery kiss to her shoulder, causing her to huff in amusement.

"Attuma, we have been through this before. I will not break, you do not have to handle me as if I am made of glass," she insisted, a small smile forming.

"You can be delicate, Okoye. Your guard does not have to be up all of the time," he told her, voice lowering as he spoke to her. "You are allowed softness."

"Softness is a luxury that I cannot afford," she told him, earning a disapproving grunt.

"You can afford it. You just refuse to invest in it."

Her eyes rolled. He had so much wisdom about him and she could hardly stand it. Another thing she "hated" him for. The two of them let silence fall over them for a few moments before he spoke again.

"I could not spend another moment with you unable to look at me, Okoye," he told her solemnly. "I need you to understand that I..."

He trailed off, but Okoye nodded. She didn't need him to finish to know what he was going to say. They'd spoken it a thousand times without having to say anything at all. Okoye nodded at his silent declaration and allowed herself to sink into his touch, letting the silence wash over them once more as he peppered kisses along her shoulder blade.

"I am sorry about Aneka. She is very protective of those she is close to," Okoye finally spoke, getting a short laugh out of him.

Attuma pulled her closer to him, chin resting on her shoulder as he recalled Aneka's earlier threat. He figured he'd forgive her given that she didn't know the entirety of the situation, didn't know that he was willing to put his life on the line for her friend.

"I understand," he told her. "You are worth protecting."

Okoye's heart fluttered at that and she slowly turned her face to his, pressing her forehead to his.

"As are you," she replied quietly, lips ghosting over his before he finally connected them, taking her in like it had been years since their last encounter with each other.

Okoye decided to take the moment to forget, to have a break. She would figure it all out in the morning. How she could keep Shuri from making the most detrimental mistake of her life and how to keep Thandiwe alive would be business for later. For now, she decided it was okay that he drew a laugh from her when he picked her up, knowing she liked to walk on her own. The sound of it rang like music as he pressed kisses to her neck and made way to her bedroom. It almost felt unnatural to rip herself from her duties for a small moment of joy but she allowed it, allowed him to take her mind off of everything because he was the only one that seemed to be able to pull her away from all the things she felt so permanently attached to.

The spent the rest of their evening together tangled in each other, the sound of her soft gasps and his low grunts filling the room as they indulged in their moment of forgetting the rest of the world.

When she pulled his face down to hers for a kiss, he let her take him in for a moment, not sure that anybody else in the world other than her really mattered anymore. Attuma broke the kiss, saw her eyes flutter shut as he pushed against a sensitive spot inside of her. His hand came to her cheek gently and turned her head before her leaned down to press soft kisses along the side of her face and temple. Slowly, he dragged his lips over to her ear, whispering in Mayan as his hips snapped into her.

Okoye tightened her grip on his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as he continued to chant quietly in her ear. She was still learning, but she knew enough to piece together what he was repeating like a prayer as he buried himself inside of her.

My love. My heart. My life. My warrior.

taglist: @simpingforclaudette @amidalis @angel-of-death-2015 @amber-plans @goodluckdumbfuck @mikastarr222 @abbyeliza28 @skysynclair19 @midethefangirl @sunshinescribes

#okoye #attoye #okoye x attuma #attuma #marvel #mcu #alex livinalli #danai gurira #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #fanfic #fanfiction #theeblackmedusa

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 3 years

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falling - a close reading

fine line, track 6

aka to be so lonely’s sad sister

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

“you” and the bedroom: recurring theme ～ mmith, only angel, from the dining table

And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hands

issue echoing through mmith, only angel ⟶ cause of what pushes them apart, or symptom?

hands are empty, reaching out for loved one

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back, I can't unpack the baggage you left

recurring theme: miscommunication, or lack of ～ sott, sweet creature, two ghosts, mmith

person needed a break, left - mmith

What am I now? What am I now?

echo of lights up: finding yourself is a struggle sometimes

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

self-hate. talking to himself: “you” has left and harry is left wondering what he’s become. blaming himself for the relationship issues

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin’

happened before: problems with self ～ mmith, only angel

What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

being a weight in the relationship, losing himself to the point of no return, lost his way in his career

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

needs validation, attention

“you” can be his person, or more general: the listener

You said you cared, and you missed me too

they’re in contact, talking: still trying to work things out

cared about their relationship? about harry?

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

we’re aware of it too

love is very much alive in this relationship: familiarity, honesty

And the coffee's out at the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

meet up to talk, but the talking goes slow. stubborn (～ sweet creature), hurt, (the other is) afraid to be open (～ golden)

the silence makes H uneasy, makes him despair, despite the fact that they’re there - from the dining table “comfortable silence is so overrated”

you’ve run out of things to say, but still you write all these songs? boys, talk.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again

to feel wanted and needed; harry knows he needs the other person and is scared it’s one-sided

(self-)doubt

What am I now? What am I now?

What if you're someone I just want around?

variation: i just want you around and that’s what i know. i know that with more certainty than that i want myself around

SYNTHESIS

Falling is the merging of the two main themes on the album, placed perfectly at the end of the first half. There is that same deep-rooted, familiar love, mixed with that search of self and a bunch of pain.

Harry is struggling, lost, and coping in negative ways. The alcohol made him say things to his partner that he doesn’t mean, and it’s caused a spiral into self-doubt. The themes and general atmosphere match songs like Meet Me in the Hallway and Only Angel, which also feature loneliness, the other in the relationship not talking or having left, terrible or no communication and bad coping mechanisms. In Falling, however, it’s finally made explicit that there is a deeper root to their problems, or at least from Harry’s side. Echoing Lights Up, he stops to ask himself what he’s become. There’s despair in the question, but also insecurity. ‘What if’ reigns; he doesn’t have the answers. His grief is pouring out of him, this is rock bottom. “I can’t unpack the baggage you left” could mean that the other person has left Harry with the clear message to figure his shit out and stop fucking around. Stop grabbing for the bottle, stop being dramatic, stop being petty and stubborn and look inward. So Harry crashed and is left to wonder who he is exactly.

A couple fighting and trying to work through their shit is love. The other person hasn’t abandoned Harry in his problems, they’re still there to meet up and talk and express that they care. They both miss each other. After their heavy fight, where the other left all that baggage, the conversation is stunted, but they’re still having it.

It’s a song written about the deepest of their struggle, a time where Harry was down deep, which strained the relationship. His cry, “and I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again,” is as much a real fear as unwarranted anxiety. It’s a feeling, fuelled by self-doubt, which can often cause a skewered view of reality, especially if it's about how someone else feels about you. And, in the midst of trying to find yourself, you’re sometimes so lost you don’t even know what’s real anymore. I think this is definitely a strong element in Falling. His feelings are very intense (“it kills me”) and Harry is just overall sad about everything. This sadness is warranted, because they’re going through very real struggles, and it’s intensified by his character, which has a flair for the dramatic and a knack for self-pitying (“i’m in my bed, and you’re not here” sounds like a sad baby to me). Harry even tells us that the other has given him confirmation that they care and miss him, and still his overthinking has thrown that aside, because oh no there are silences during their conversations. These silences could even mean that the other is being careful with their words, that they’re both being more considerate and calm.

The music video shows Harry with his drink at the piano (lying on his back on the stool at first, playing the opening notes with one hand like the dramatic baby he is), in a room full of details that probably carry a plethora of meaning unknown to us (a ship and fish painted on the piano, the shutters opening to show Paris, etc). He’s dressed in a beautiful lilac blouse, draped behind him like a cape, a skirt, or even a tail. Like in Lights Up and (almost) in Adore You, Harry is underwater, which is clearly one of his preferred ways to express sadness, escape (from himself, his reflection), and loneliness (ft. hs1’s album cover). When he’s entirely submerged, the blouse transforms and floats around him. He’s a mermaid, almost. And that, then, alludes to gender, which ties everything about this song and this album together perfectly: love and self-discovery, mainly in terms of gender. The beginning of the video is actually the end, with Harry drenched and panting. So, eventually, the water ebbs away again.

Just like the music video hints at a happy ending, the very last variation of the chorus leaves us with a feeling of hope. “What if you’re someone I just want around?” Harry doesn’t just need them, he wants them. And that’s all he knows for now.

Read my other lyric analyses here

#fine line analysis #falling #ahhhh this was so much more fun than the cherry one #we're back on track #linking all of his songs and trying to figure out the puzzle pieces of their story #the mosaic of experiences #our mermaid #lp #my posts #Lyrics

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embyrinitalics · 3 years

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An Inconvenience

Read the previous thread here, or jump down the rabbit hole 🕳🐇

Link lays awake that night, staring restlessly at stars.

She’d left, and he can’t for the life of him figure out how he’d let it happen.

The stories don’t help him sleep. He finds Farosh’s Tail and tells himself the story of the first thunderstorm and lifegiving rains it brought with it. He finds the Mighty Boar and the story of the first hunt, but he can’t imagine ever having an appetite again, so dwelling on that seems pointless. He finds the Great River, where the first woman stepped out of the waters and made herself a companion out of clay and animal bone and bits of dragon’s claws. When she pressed her mouth to his to give him breath, he was so grateful and awed by her that he kissed her again, trying to give it back.

His chest twists and cramps, and he rolls out of the hammock and feels his way down to the water in the dark.

The lake is still, the flagstones around the shrine are empty. But he can hear Mara humming at the pool, her song echoing out of the dragon’s mouth, lending it a voice. It’s not surprising. The old priestess never sleeps. He thinks he’s been quiet as he climbs the stairway beneath its teeth and drifts down its throat towards the light of the fire she keeps flickering at the goddess’s feet, but before he can make himself known she turns around and hands him a bowl of broth.

His lips move to form a question.

“I heard you not sleeping,” she says before he can ask, and when he opens his mouth again, “I know. But you need to eat something. This will keep you strong.”

He frowns, but takes it anyway, scenting the stock and taking a sip. He knows better than to argue with her. It tastes of porgy and thistle, and just a hint of banana. Her brow is arched at him when he chances a glance in her direction again.

“Did you really think she would stay? Leave everything and everyone she knows behind, just to be with you?”

“I didn’t think she would stay,” he argues, but quickly finds he has no where to go. “I just... never thought she would leave.”

“Typical,” she chides him, smiling, and turns to lower herself into the pool. “Leading with your heart, without thought for what might be. Without fear. You are a dragon through and through.”

He drinks, just so he can’t ask the question trying to squirm its way out of his mouth. He swallows and asks it anyway. “Was that wrong of me?”

She barks a laugh, so loud he hunches his shoulders and glances warily up into the colonnade, and wades out with her palms skimming the water’s surface.

“Oh, Link. What are we going to do with you? You are what you are.”

He downs the rest of his broth, folding his legs under him to sit at the water’s edge. He doesn’t dare dip his feet in, as inviting as Mara makes it seem. He knows better, even if he is so dragonlike.

“Have you been to the spires?” he asks, planting an elbow on his knee so he can drop his jaw against his fist, and she laughs again, more a puff of air than a bark.

“No, of course not. My place is here.” The water around her hums, glows gently, as though harboring lightning. She glances curiously up at the statue, and then turns with a knowing look in her eye. “Have you even thought about what you’ll do when you find her?”

“I wasn’t—”

Mara snorts at him before he can deny it and turns back to the goddess, humming as she sways her hips. The waters glows a little brighter, just a pulse, and then it’s fading again. He doesn’t understand the communion at all; but then, it really isn’t for him to understand.

His words at the edge of the plains echo in his head instead—too loud to be memory, too distinct. Trapped in him, shoved deep in his brain when they ricocheted meaninglessly off her ears. As infuriatingly unintelligible to her as Mara’s song is to him.

You can’t leave. I have too much I want to say. Too many things I don’t have the words for!

He remembers the rise of panic in his throat, the awful clench in his stomach when he realized he had no way to tell her and that she was mere seconds from disappearing forever. How frustrating it was to know useless words like rain and bird and banana, and none of the meaningful ones he needed, like fire or breathless or love.

If you go, I’ll only follow you, he’d tried to tell her. I’d follow you anywhere.

He feels stupid for it now. How futile that had been.

“They’re not like us,” Mara says—sighing, like she’s talking into the wind. “They lean towards the other balances. Far-sighted as an owl, single-minded as a boar. It’s makes them anxious. They’ll fear you because you’re different.”

He frowns. What a strange reason to fear something.

“Are there no dragons there at all?”

“A few,” she smirks. “But none so dragonlike as you.”

He stares up at the goddess, watching impassively over the world with powerful, unseeing eyes. For the first time he feels an unpleasant twinge of doubt. Maybe they’re too different. Maybe she’ll foresee too many problems (because there’s no doubting towards which of the balances she leans). Maybe it will take too much courage to love him.

He doesn’t like feeling doubt. He’s not used to it at all.

“They’re her children too, you know,” she hums, the water around her pulsing again with submerged light. “Though as I recall they believe she came from the sky, not the waters.”

He frowns harder. “Who’s right?”

She turns to smile at him over her shoulder. “Does it matter?”

Mara goes back to her humming. All at once he feels unwelcome—perhaps because the water gets darker the longer he looks, and brighter when it’s barely in his peripheral, like the goddess is urging him away. Perhaps because she’s humming much louder than before, like she’s trying to drown him out.

He’s getting to his feet and retreating from the spring before he can draw any more conclusions.

For a moment he feels in a fog. But then, beneath the row of stone teeth, watching an icy moon begin its slow descent, the old priestess’s words snap together like puzzle pieces, and the doubt melts from the heat sparking off them.

You are what you are.

He doesn’t know if she meant to chide him or encourage him, but either way, if a dragon is what he is, why does he pretend to be anything else?

He climbs back into the colonnade to gather a few necessities and heads out into the plains with the morning light.

#zelink #An Inconvenience #Tarzan AU #legend of zelda #fanfic #WHY IS THERE SO MUCH WORLD BUILDING IN THIS #do you hear that dull thudding sound in the distance?#that's me smacking my head against a table over and over again #I know this is short but #this is the natural break between this part and the next #you know what all this Faron stuff is making me want to write?#the Defiance longfic #but that baby's still brewing on the back burner lol #ANYWAYS THIS IS A TANGENT

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bakubabes-tatakae · 3 years

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A/N: I hope you all enjoy part 1/4 of my pieces for day four of the anniversary collab for the @konoblog-simps. You can find all the lovely pieces for the day here! Today’s theme was song pieces, and its full of angst. My heart broke after this piece. 😩 Izaya just deserves love. I’ll be spanning my four pieces throughout the next couple of hours so stay turned. You can find all the days of the collab here!

For the best experience listen to the song while reading the piece. The song title and artist have the link for he music video. 😊

Pairing: Izaya x fem!Reader

Song Choice: Without Me by Chvse

Warnings: alcohol consumption, angst, violence

Word Count: 1.7k

Izaya had never felt this kind of pain before. This man had been beaten senseless, stabbed, and everything in between, but nothing had ever really hurt him as much as heartbreak did. He had been the one to end things, but that was only because he didn’t want to put you in danger anymore. He didn’t want to be the thing that ended your life. But that didn’t stop the thoughts from roaming his head.

“And I don't want nobody else but you

You the girl in my dreams every night

You the reason that I let the sun come through”

You had been the best thing in his life, but he had let his life come in between that. He hadn’t wanted harm to come to you. But just that had happened. All this dealing with the Yakuza had made them take you hostage. They wanted to make him hurt.

So when he had finally gotten you back from them. When he had finally gotten you settled at home he had left, running away with nothing but a note on your nightstand. He couldnt’ bear to tell you to your face that you were better off without him.

You were in his dreams every night since then. Your face haunted every single thought that he had. He told himself day after day that he had to move on, but he couldn’t do that. He wanted you, nobody else.

His thoughts always went back to the countless mornings that you would wake up and roll over to tell him the same thing every time. “You’re the reason that I open those blinds every morning, Izaya.” You’d smile and climb over him, straddling his lap and pressing soft kisses to his cheek. “You’re the reason that I let the sun come through. You’re my light.”

Those words were on repeat in his head. He reached for the beer bottle on his coffee table and took a sip, tightening his grip around the bottle as he fought back the urge to let a tear loose.

“Girl, I'm sorry for the things that I've done

Always starting shit and put you in a dumb mood

Always pushing you away, but I pushed too hard

Now you're gone, what a dumb move

'Cause you're the person I'mma run to”

Izaya’s work had always gotten in the way of your relationship, but you had tried hard not to let that bother you. He knew how hard you tried to ignore it. That didn’t stop him from feeling horrible about it. He had tried to push you away some, despite how much he always regretted himself for it after. He wanted you to make the decision on your own.

He would get angry when you questioned him about when he was going to spend some time with you. He tried to understand where you came from, but his work was his life and he wanted nothing more than to succeed. He wanted to make a better life for not only himself but for you as well. He had gone about that wrong.

His anger would always put you in horrible moods. And when you had left him the first time he should have left you alone.

When you had finally decided that enough was enough he should have left it at that. But something inside him said that he had to have you back. He just couldn’t let you get away. He loved you too much.

You were always the person that he ran to when he needed help. You were the person that he always leaned on. And now you were gone.

“Look, I understand why you had to leave

'Cause I was treating you so bad, that your family

Could see through the fake smile that you had with me

I wish you didn't go, but also know you had to leave”

Izaya had heard the words that your family always spoke. He heard the conversations on the other line. You had been sure that the phone speaker wasn’t loud enough, but he heard them say that you needed to move on.

You would object to their statements. You always did, but he knew that deep down you would think for a long time about them.

They would say that you always seemed like the feelings you had weren’t real. They called your smiles fake and said that you only did them to fool the family. You only wanted them to think that you were truly happy.

Izaya wished that he hadn’t pushed you away that first time, but he knew that it needed to be done. He understood why you had left, but his heart wanted you to be with him.

“'Cause I was toxic, found a way to talk shit

Accusing you of things you didn't do, I know I'm not shit

So leaving me to better you, is better than the option

To stick around with me, I just hate that I caused it

I hate that I caused it”

Izaya had done nearly everything to push you away the first time. He was toxic. He was rude. He played every game he could think of. Izaya even went as far as accusing you of being unfaithful.

He claimed that you had found yourself in the arms of one of his enemies.

So you chose to leave. You told Izaya that you needed to better yourself. You needed to get away. You weren’t going anywhere or doing anything with your life being with him.

You were beginning to see that sticking around with him was the worst option.

He hated that he made you feel that way, but he couldn’t do anything about how he felt about himself. He hated that he had wanted to put you in that position. But you would have been better off without him.

“'Cause I don't wanna hurt you

But I know I will

And I'm looking for the reason

For the way I feel

I didn't wanna lose you

But if I'm being real

Then you're better off without me”

He could feel himself slipping away from you and that’s when he knew that he needed to do what he did. He knew that eventually he would hurt you worse than he had ever wanted too. Worse than just heartbreak.

But Izaya never truly understood why he felt that way. He didn’t know why he knew that he would hurt you. He just knew.

So in the note that he left you on your nightstand he said “You’re better off without me.”

And it was the worst thing he had ever written in his life. The worst thing he had ever said to someone. And he truly meant it. No one could change his mind. Your life meant more to him than his own.

“I never really fell in love until I met you

'Cause that day out at the cabin, I felt something special

3 a.m, vibing, drinking beer on the couch

Remember? I was scared to even cuddle with you”

Flashbacks of how you met filled his head, another swig from the beer bottle filled his throat. The small feeling of forgetting starting to take over. That’s all he wanted to do. These memories were too painful.

When you had come to the cabin with a couple of friends of his and they had introduced you, he hadn't expected to be obsessed. But he was.

Everyone had gone to sleep, the two of you had been the only ones left in the living room, and he had never been more nervous in his life.

You hadn’t hidden your attraction to him. You made it very obvious in the hours after you had met.

You had looked at the clock as you both drank the last of the beers that were sitting on the small coffee table. Three in the morning. The fire burned in the fireplace and your laughs filled the room.

Izaya couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way. The last time he had truly felt love.

Izaya had never been as nervous as he was right now. He was normally the tough guy. He had never had a problem showing affection for a woman he liked. But you were different.

You noticed his hesitation and went in yourself. Before you could even stop yourself, your body moved. You straddled his hips and pushed him back into the couch. Your lips pressing together as Izaya placed his hands on your hips. His fear almost instantly watching away.

“My heart's breaking 'cause I love you and I miss you

I'm thinking about the times where I'd cuddle and I'd kiss you

But I understand that I got a lot of issues

I just hope you know that it ain't easy to forget you”

Izaya shook his head, trying to get the memory to leave him. “Fuck.” He grasped the bottle tighter in his hand and down the last swig. “I miss her.”

Before he even realized what was happening the bottle soared from his hand, a scream leaving him at the same time.

A light switched on in the hallway and a figure appeared in the doorway of the living room. Namie had a sleepy, puzzled look on her face as she checked on her boss. “Izaya?”

Izaya rubbed his eyes and gave her a weak smile. “Everything’s fine Namie. Go back to bed.”

She gave him a worried look before turning back to head to her room. She knew better than to push Izaya when he was like this.

“I just-“ His voice was a whisper as he picked up his phone. He didn’t want to say anything else and have Namie come back out.

Izaya opened his messages, his finger instinctively finding your name and typed out a message he had never meant to send. Alcohol made him hit that button and made him throw his phone across the room after.

So when your phone lit up and you opened the message, your heart broke for him.

Izaya 💞 2:36am

I miss you so fucking much.

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @kyu-pine @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker @impinthecloset @nikiniki743

©bakubabes-hatake’s original content, please do not repost/modify without my permission

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lexwritess · 3 years

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And It Was All Yellow [B.B]

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings- anxiety, depression, panic attacks, death, blood, fighting

Word count- 2.2k

a/n- this is based on the song yellow by Coldplay link is in the fic if you want to listen while reading. I’m super proud of this I hope you guys enjoy it! It would be super appreciated if you reblogged so more people could see it!

“For you I’d bleed myself dry.”

You Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Nat were sent on a mission in Canada. Someone that used to work for HYDRA formed their own army, trying to fulfill what HYDRA wanted.

Currently you all were on a jet on the way there, discussing everything you know so far.

“Okay so we know they have two super soldier assassians, and they’re experimenting with other unknown substances.” Steve was explaining and trying to strategize a plan for when we get there. Bucky and Steve always wanted to have a plan before going on a mission.

“Y/n, do you remember what they used on you when you were kidnapped?” Natasha asked you.

HYDRA kidnapped you about three years ago. They did experiments on you, trying to make you more powerful than any other assassin they made before. The things they injected you with gave you powers. You were able to heal, and create energy shields. But the first time you used your powers it nearly killed you, one of the HYDRA agents was shot and they told you to heal him, but when you did it nearly ripped you apart. They left you to die after. That’s when Steve found you. Bruce did some scans and tests to try to figure out what they did, but he couldn’t figure it out. But you were told to never use your powers again or it would kill you.

“No all I know is that they used the super soldier serum mixed with other things.” You reply back to them.

You wish you could use your powers. It would be so helpful to everybody and you could save a lot of lives. Tony and Bruce worked together to try to let you be able to use them but the only thing it did was make your eyes flash a yellow color when you thought about using them, similar to Wanda.

“Okay, I thought so but it was worth a shot.” Nat replied back to you.

You nodded and Steve got back to explaining his plan.

“Hey doll.” You hear Bucky whisper beside you.

“Hey Buck.” You smile at him as he wraps an arm around you.

“Can you promise me something?” He paused letting out a slight sigh.

“Please go along with the plan.”

“Yeah of course, I always do.” You reply, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. You didn’t know why he was telling you this. He’s never done this before.

“No you don’t. You always go on your own way and almost get hurt everytime-.” You interrupted his rant.

“But I never have.” You smirk at him.

“Doesn’t mean you ever will, but please darling they’re dangerous. You almost died last time you were with them. I-I can’t lose you Y/n.” Bucky’s eyes glaze over.

You don’t know what’s gotten into him. We’ve gone on missions that were way more dangerous than this one.

“You’re not going to lose me Bucky, sometimes you can’t follow the plan though.” You look at him with concern.

He pulls you in for a hug and holds you there for a minute kissing your forehead.

“What’s the matter James, why are you so worried.” You cup his cheek and he turns his head away.

“It’s stupid.” He grumbles.

“It’s not stupid if it’s got you this upset bub, tell me.” You persist.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I had a dream you died.” He mumbles. You heard him though. You’re used to him being embarrassed of his feelings so he’ll just mumble everything out.

“Bucky, nothings going to happen to me.” You smile and put both your hands on his cheeks, giving him a big kiss.

He chuckles at your silliness, you always know how to make him feel better.

“You kiss like a Grandma.” He laughs at you.

“You’re older than my Grandma.” You giggle back as he pulls you closer to him, giving you a proper kiss.

“You better not die either or I’ll kill you.” You pout at him.

“I like your logic, doll.” He hums back at you.

“Promise me.” You say to him seriously.

“I promise.” He smiles grabbing your pinky and intertwining it with his.

“Alright love birds, we’re here get ready.” Sam smiles at you guys.

Once you guys got off the jet a car was parked there and HYDRA uniforms were in it, giving you all a disguise.

You all got out of the car and are standing together, reviewing the plan one more time.

“Okay we go in there, try to keep a low profile. Try to avoid fighting as much as possible we don’t want their assassians after us. We get to the basement and destroy their machines. Easy.” Steve says confidently.

“Okay, what happens if we get caught?” Sam asks.

“Try not to make a big scene. Use that move we learned at training last week. If that doesn’t work let us know where you are.” Steve explains.

“Okay, you guys ready?” Steve gives a reassuring smile to everyone and you go in.

You all split up and go to different parts of the facility that lead to the basement.

“Hey you!” You hear someone shout at you. Damn it you were so close to the basement.

“Who are you?” The man looks at you, scanning your face.

“Taylor Prince.” You say confidently. Sam demanded you all had fake names.

He makes a puzzled face but you whisper up to him the word Nat told you guys to say in Russian.

He nods his head and your off back to the basement.

You hear static from your ear piece and a voice cutting in.

“I’m going to need you guys, soldiers in the basement.” Sam says. You hear gun shots and shells dropping. You hurry the rest of the way down the hallway into the basement.

Nat and you got there at the same time and you run down the stairs to see the rest of your team fighting the super soldiers.

There’s a few guards down there as well. You and Natasha go to knock them out making it easier to get rid of the soldiers.

- (play this if you want)

“Goddamn it, these soldiers wouldn’t give up.” You sigh out happy that you guys can finally do what you need to do.

“Yeah that’s how you two were.” Sam rolls his eyes.

“Oh sorry.” You reply give a nervous smile to Bucky.

“Okay let’s hurry before they wake up.” Steve says and you guys run towards their machines.

You look over and see a shadow. “Hey guys I think someone’s over-.” You were cut off by a gun shot. You all snap your head at the direction of the sound.

You hear a groan and someone drop to the floor.

You look down and see Bucky clutching his chest. They shot his heart.

Anger is all you feel.

You take out your pistol and shoot the soldier. Shot after shot after shot...

“Y/n! Y/n stop shooting he’s dead!” Steve yells at you snapping you out of it.

You drop to your knees by Bucky’s side.

“Hey doll.” He tries to give you a smile and coughs up blood.

You let out a sob and look away. You can’t. You can’t let him go.

“You promised me.” You cry out, your voice cracking as you let out another sob.

“Sometimes you can’t follow the plan though.” Bucky replies, copying what you said to him on the jet.

“I-I can’t.” You pause, tears never stop streaming from your face. “I can’t live without you.” You hiccup.

“You can. I love you.” Bucky closes his eyes.

“No, no Bucky open your eyes!” You yell.

Bucky is breathing shallow breaths. You can see he’s losing oxygen.

“Say it back before I go.” He breathes out.

“Buck...” You say so quiet you’re not sure if he heard you.

“Y/n, please.”

“I love you Bucky. I love you so much.” Your voice fades out and you begin sobbing again.

You see the slightest smile form on his face and his chest rises for the last time.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You start panicking. “C’mon Y/n.” Sam says softly grabbing your arms trying to lead you away from your dead boyfriend.

You push him away and finally break.

“No! Bucky wake up! I know you can, you can, wake up Buck please!” You start repeating yourself over and over again.

“You promised!” You’re screaming now. Screaming and sobbing you feel two sets of hands on you now grabbing you pulling you back.

“Get off of me!” You scream at them, your eyes glowing yellow.

“Y/n. Don’t.” Natasha tells you sternly. Dry tears in her face.

You turn away from them and start using your powers for the first time since you almost died.

“Y/n STOP!” Steve comes over to pull you away from his deceased best friend. You sway your hand over in his direction and his body hits the wall.

You put your hands on Bucky’s wound, praying that this works.

You feel your body starting to tear it’s self apart. You groan out in pain, but continue trying to bring Bucky back.

“Y/n, you’re going to kill yourself!” Sam yells at you.

The yellow light between you and Bucky is almost blinding. Your body can’t take much more.

Your screaming in agony at this point. You give one last big push of your powers before collapsing to the floor. You can barley see. White stars and blind spots cover your vision, probably from all the blood your body is loosing. It won’t be long till you bleed out.

You hear a gasp and slowly turn your head towards the noise.

It worked.

“Y/n! What? Doll why would you-why would you do that?” Bucky rushes to your side.

“I can’t live without you Buck. I told you.” You reach your hand out for Bucky to hold. He cups your hand between his and rests his head against it while sobbing.

You wanted to feel that chill vibranium one more time.

“Y/n, I can’t do this why would you kill yourself for me?” Bucky can’t stop questioning everything. He’s in shock from being dead and the fact the love of his life is dying right in front of him.

“For you I’d bleed myself dry.” You smile at him, giving his hand one last squeeze.

“You told me you would follow the plan.” Bucky says his voice pitching up.

“You know I can’t follow the rules.” You give him a smirk.

“Goodbye Buck, I love you more than life.” You whisper out.

“You know I love you so...” Bucky replies he’s so upset all his senses are shutting down. You let out one last breath and your body goes limp in Bucky’s arms.

‘Cause you were all yellow...

The room lit up with a blinding yellow light.

You were gone.

The room is filled with cries and the screams from the former assassin.

He weeps against your chest. Cursing himself for letting this happen. No one hurts his doll.

“We gotta go Fury needs us back ASAP.” Natasha says with barely any emotion. She feels numb.

Bucky lets out a mad yell and starts punching the ground before those screams turn into more sobs.

Bucky gathers himself as best as possible and picks your limp body up.

It’s time to go.

It’s been three months since your funeral.

Bucky can’t get over you.

He barley can eat, barley showers, he can’t even get out of bed. The only time he gets out of bed is when he goes down to the shooting range and gets his anger out. Otherwise, he’s a stone.

“Hey Buck do you want to try to come eat dinner with the team?” Steve asks Bucky with a soft voice.

“Not hungry.” Bucky replies covering himself back up.

Steve let’s out a sigh and sits on the end of Bucky’s bed.

“Can- can you please leave?” Bucky asks Steve. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone and he’s surprised because no one has really tried to talk to him either.

“You got to come downstairs and eat dinner.” Steve says, this time more sternly.

“I said, I’m not hungry.” Buck grumbles and covers his head with a pillow.

“Okay you made me do this.” Steve stands up and clears his throat.

“Y/n, sacrificed herself for you to live.” Bucky cut Steve off.

“Don’t- don’t say her name.” Bucky voice starts to crack and his eyes glaze over.

“No, Bucky. You’ve been in your room for almost 4 months straight. You’re not even trying to get over it. You’re not letting yourself feel those emotions and you need to or you’ll never get over her. She did that so you could live a happy life.” Steve pauses and Bucky lifts his head up and wipes his tears away.

“Come downstairs and eat dinner with us. She would of wanted it.” Bucky stands up and sighs.

“Okay.”

They both walk downstairs and when they see Bucky they all smile and tell him to come sit down and eat.

They all talk and have a good time.

Bucky actually smiles for the first time since you died.

He can get through this.

Alternate shoot ending if that was to sad

Bucky shot up in a sweat, tears running down his face. His breaths are quick and unsteady.

“Shh Bucky come here.” You say from beside him.

It wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to have nightmares so you know what to do.

“Y/n?” Bucky questions, his eyes wide.

“Yeah bub I’m right here.” You wrap an arm around him and rub his non-metal shoulder.

“I had a dream you died.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #the avengers #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #peter parker #the winter soldier

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sapphire374 · 3 years

Text

Soy Sol: Chapter 11 (The Cut that Burrows Deep)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch. 10 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Ámbar feels like every step she takes, the more she can feel her heartbeat. It’s like she’s carrying it in her arms with nothing to guard it, out in the open alone. She opens the cold rusted handle of the entrance to the restaurant. There she is, her biological mom trembling while drinking a glass of water. Ámbar sums up all the courage inside her and takes the chance to approach her. When she grabs the seat in front of her, Sylvania can’t help but stare in shock. “Wow Ámbar, you truly have grown.” Ámbar may have brought all her walls down for the people she loves, but she puts them back up with this stranger.

“You can’t say that since you were never there for me. That’s no fair,” Ámbar chided. Sylvania chokes up and avoids eye contact. “Look Ámbar, I now know after everything that has happened the big mistake I made, but at the time it felt like the best option for you. I was young and didn’t have the means nor felt ready to take care of a child. I thought Sharon would’ve been a better parental figure instead of a young girl like myself. I later on regretted it and that’s something I shall have to carry with me for the rest of my life.”

Ámbar grips onto her purse trying very hard to hold back all her tears. She wonders why did this lady chose Sharon specifically and why did Sharon try to keep it a secret for so long? “I understand you were young, but I know that’s not the whole story because I have memories being in a different house that was NOT Benson Mansion. You saw me, you knew me, and didn’t like me enough to keep me,” Ámbar rebuked. Sylvania is showing tears now, she’s choking up with every word as her hand trembles just to take a sip of water. “It wasn’t like that at all Ámbar. I tried, I really did try to see if I was capable of taking care of a child. I noticed my arms weren’t so comforting for you. Sometimes when you love someone, so much, you have to let them go because you care,” Sylvania responded. Ámbar doesn’t know whether to believe what she’s saying or not. She wishes she can get out of these tornadoes of lies that always come chasing her. She’s sick of it all. She wants the truth. Is that too much to ask for?

Silence crowds the room, they’re breathing the same air but can’t even look at each other. Sylvania speaks up again. “I know this feels hard to believe but why do you think I came back? It was for that reason, I thought Sharon would be a better parent than me and would take great care of you. I realized I was sadly wrong.”

“Sharon? Of all people? What made you think that a woman who put a place on fire because she was jealous of her own sister would be a perfect parent for a child? Do you know she never showed me affection or love? I had to learn it all on my own. She only showed any signs of care when she needed me part of her plan that only benefitted her. You left me to a person who only cares about themselves,” Ámbar fumed.

“It wasn’t like that at all. I had no idea about her being the cause of the Benson fire and she had already adopted you before that even happened. When I met her, she was a kind woman, I was friends with Lili from work, so I had already knew the family. I assumed that Sharon had a good heart just like Lili, even though she was seemingly different. The whole time I would interact with her, she was always nice and seemed to really want a child because she always felt alone. It all just felt fitting.” Ámbar is trying to put together all the puzzle pieces in her head with Sylvania’s story. Part of her doesn’t believe it but…. It does kind of make sense. For her it justifies nothing even though she has hope.

Before she gets up from her seat, she leaves a wad of cash. “Ámbar where are you going? We haven’t even ordered yet?” Sylvania asks. “I’m not feeling hungry anymore, here’s some money for dinner.” Ámbar heads out the door with no remnants behind other than the tears that fall to the floor.

Jam and Roller

“Eyyy amigo I’m so happy for the release of your new music video!” Gastón exclaims to Matteo. They’re both drinking smoothies while watching the Youtube countdown from Matteo’s phone. These are the special moments Matteo loves to share with Gastón since he’s always been his pal for the longest. He also loves sharing it with Luna too, but they sadly haven’t hit it off as well for a while. Matteo is hoping Gastón’s plan will work for the upcoming days.

Simón heads to their tables with a fresh batch of popcorn. “Wow, how exciting! It’s even more special since you get to enjoy it here at the Jam and Roller with us!” Simón states. Matteo grins but it slowly fades when he sees Luna walk into the cafeteria and completely ignoring him. “What happened?” Simón asks when he sees Matteo’s vivid expression abruptly change. “No nothing, I just wish I got to share this moment with another person too.” When Simón turns his head and sees who Matteo is staring at, he realizes what Matteo meant.

Nina pulls out her purse and hands her phone to Luna. “I know you’re trying to pretend you don’t care but you do. Watch the video, it’ll get rid of all your curiosities.” Luna shakes her head in disapproval. “Nina, the least I want to do is watch a music video of the one I love flirting with a girl who has a huge crush on him as well. They’re practically soulmates, meant for each other,” Luna exaggerates. “Oh c’mon, I know it’s complicated, but you know that’s not true. If you’re not going to do it for him, then do it for yourself. You deserve to see why he arrived late to your date.” Luna glares at Nina and decides to take the phone.

Once the music video is out, everyone begins to cheer for Matteo. Luna sits even more depressed seeing at the ‘amazing’ chemistry Matteo and Viviana had in the music video. She can’t help but doubt herself even more when all the comments from his fans say they ship him with Viviana. “Nina, I’m not feeling so good. I think I’ll just head home.” Nina nods and Luna begins to get up from her chair and head out. Matteo notices and follows her out.

“Luna! Luna, wait up! I need to tell you something,” Matteo yells out. “Matteo not now, I’m not in the mood. Congratulations of your video, it was very nice. I just don’t feel so good okay.” Matteo catches up to her and stands in front. “Look Luna, I don’t know if you’ll listen to me now but please go to tomorrow’s concert I’m having. My manager is having me make a concert to promote the single, but it wouldn’t be the same without you. Please Luna. You never miss any of my concerts,” Matteo begs. Luna gradually smiles. “Really? You still want me there?”

“Of course, I do Luna.” Luna now can’t help but blush. “Matteo, of course I’ll go. Even though I’m still a little upset at you calling me jealous, standing me up on our date, and not believing or listening to me, I still care. Since you want me there, I’ll be there.” Matteo is surprised by Luna’s comment and begins to graciously smile too. It was a moment for them, they hadn’t had one like this in a long time. It felt needed.

Nico is in the rink sitting on one of the chairs, he seems to be working on something since he has his notebook open with his pen. Jim enters and sees him alone. “Hey there, what are you working on?” Jim asks. “Oh just a few verses, I’m trying to get ahead on the Roller Band song for the competition, but nothing seems to come into mind,” Nico says. Jim heads to the seat beside him. She sits down and carefully glances over his blank page. “Oh yeah you do seem to be having some trouble,” Jim chuckles. “If you’d like I can help, I’m use to writing songs with Yam.” Nico turns and faces Jim, “Yes of course. I need all the help I can get; it’s been a while for me since I got to write a song with the Roller Band.” They both laugh together and get working on the song.

Jazmín dashes to Delfi holding a small slip of paper. “You won’t believe what just happened?” Delfi carefully places her books into her locker after seeing Jazmín rush to her. “Is it something new for the Fundom or for your blog, Ja Jazmin?” Delfi predicts. “Nope, you’re very far off. Look at this,” Jazmín hands Delfi the note. The more she reads it, the more her eyes grow like a flower blooming in the season, keeps opening. She’s in plain shock as Jazmín nods from her amusement. “Right! I have a secret admirer!! I have to post about this on my blog!” Jazmín frantically grabs her phone from her pocket but right when she’s about to film, Delfi stops her. “No Jazmín, this is something special. Honestly, I think this is something you should keep for yourself, every celebrity likes to keep their personal life separate from their work life,” Delfi advises. Jazmín thinks for a second and says, “Nahhh I’ll still post it, plus this can even help us discover who the anonymous writer is!”

The Restaurant

Yam is wearing her golden shimmery dress that Jim helped her pick out. She’s very anxious about her date with Ramiro, she wants it to go out perfect since this was something she had been dreaming of for a while. He puts down the menu and slips his hand under hers to her surprise. He gives her a shy smile. “I had been dreaming of this for a while. Before, I would always try to move on, but I just couldn’t. My mind just couldn’t forget about you,” Ramiro admits. Yam begins to tear up. “I felt the same way for so long but never said anything worried you didn’t feel the same way. I’m so happy about this moment. I don’t care how long I had to wait, it was totally worth it.”

Throughout the whole night, Yam and Ramiro shared college stories and even old memories of each other. How Yam never stopped writing songs about him and how Ramiro would skate imagining about her. Everything went smooth till dessert came. A random man with a suit and tie approached their table and faces Yam. “You look familiar, are you Yamila Sanchez from that Ja Jazmin blog?” Yam stays startled and stutters, “uhhh yes why?” The man quickly pulls a card out of his pocket. “Hillside Records, I’m the owner. I would like to set up a meeting with you for a chance at a record deal.” Yam immediately glares at Ramiro for a response. He shows his approval and gestures for Yam to respond. “Yes I would love to!” Yam exclaims. “Great! I’m available tomorrow at 5 pm. There is one important detail I have to tell you,” the man says. “Yes, what is it,” Yam asks. “The record company is not in Buenos Aires. It’s in California.” He proceeds to hand her the card. “Think about it, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaves and Yam shows her disappointment to Ramiro, she couldn’t believe how such an exciting offer can turn to something so depressing. If she took this offer, that means she would have to leave her family, her friends, and her chance at being with Ramiro.

“Look I know this is hard to think about but just follow your heart. If this is something you truly want go for it, I can wait longer,” Ramiro grabs her hand and holds it. “I don’t know what to say. I never knew me pursuing a music career would mean I have to leave everything and everyone I love,” Yam gradually lets her tears fall onto her glittery dress.

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yuuri-nsane · 3 years

Note

do you ever think about YOI's main ending song.... like from whose perspective it is, or like, the way it links into the op..... i just can't stop thinking about "you're so beautiful tonight / you had me spellbound / you could've stopped an hourglass / take my breath away" being juxtaposed with the slow settle on viktor's insta post at a festival... i can't figure out if it's like the op where it's divided between yuuri and viktor in verses? would love your thoughts if you have any!!

oh my god i actually completely overlooked that! i've never actually searched up the lyrics for you only live once, so i haven't really looked into it! but having brought it up now and doing some cool overanalysing- i thought it was super interesting...

you're so beautiful tonight / you had me spellbound / you could've stopped an hourglass / take my breath away

personally, i see these lyrics as being interchangeable between yuuri and viktor. the whole "wow" factor of the song - it's a possible reference to the way yuuri admired viktor as a kid, and continued to do so as an adult,,, someone who truly inspired him

whereas it could also reference what happened at sochi from viktors pov

^i do strongly believe it's most likely sochi, because although the lyrics portray a general sense of awe, which applies to yuuri for viktor and vice versa, the word "tonight" really resonates with me. to me, it emphasises the moment,, the fact that it [sochi] happened on the one (o n e) night - and it heavily affected viktor afterwards.

in fact. the whole song, evokes a sense of "you stood out. you were different. you inspired me". and if that doesn't scream viktor nikiforov flying halfway across the globe to coach someone who drunkenly danced with him for a single night, after seeing the same person skate one of his routines, i don't know what will.

i think though, that there are undertones referring to the both of them in the entirety of the song. like i said before, it's definitely interchangeable. the way that viktor feels for yuuri - it's mutual. do i need to pull up a pic of yuuri's viktor-poster-covered room

looking back, the op stressed the feeling of building yourself back up after times of hardships; achieving your dreams, whilst simultaneously learning to believe in yourself. with the way that the first verse of the op was from yuuri's single perspective and the second part after that was viktors, i think the ending implies the same thing, but instead, it's watching someone else stand up after being knocked down, and being motivated, driven, to do the same.

"I was born to shine"/ your struggles told me, all the while shining.

i won't shun the wounds i got trying to shine / you taught me that / all the while shining

it's no secret that viktor was extremely unhappy post series. the theories of him being depressed, and wanting to retire? viktor stopped being so passionate about the ice. he wasn't able to surprise people anymore. he stopped loving it. he got bored, and lonely and sad.

but then he meets yuuri. beautiful, lovely yuuri, who made him feel more alive than he's ever felt in years. yuuri is what keeps him going, inspires him - even if it's not to skate or stay on the ice, it's yuuri who makes viktor not want to give up. it's yuuri that makes him feel passionate. it's no longer the ice.

viktor knows that yuuri has a hard time believing in himself. that yuuri is scared of failure and disappointment.

he knows first hand the struggles that yuuri deals with almost 24/7, yet how persistent and unwavering his will is.

he also knows that yuuri has the potential to be the best, to maybe be better than himself. that leaked video of yuuri skating viktors routine to a point shows this. yuuri is talented. but why hasn't he ever seen this? competed against yuuri? yuuri could give him a run for his money - with the way he imitated the skate of the most decorated skater in the century. his skate. he wants to get yuuri to that point of reaching that damned potential. he wants to make it work, and is willing to put the effort in, for yuuri and for himself.

knowing yuuri - so beautiful and hard-working, viktor is in awe.

when you're sad and hard time / we believe in you / oh i'm just dreaming of the day / thunderous applause / roar so loudly that all our hard work will pay off! / "you were born to shine" / you taught me that / all the while shining

the yoi series focuses on yuuri transforming from a "dozen a dime" skater to one that got second place, silver, in the grand prix. yuuri had a hard time believing in himself, believing he could really skate - until viktor came into his life. viktor who popped up from russia, in his family's onsen completely naked. we don't know about sochi until episode 10. 10. and still, what we only know is from their cut short convo about it, the credits and heavy speculation. yuuri has no recollection of it. none of it comes from his pov. but it is essential to the plot. it's the entire catalyst. it makes sense to implicate it, to reflect it in some part of the show.

and the perfect place to do that? the ending.* the focus shifts from yuuri's journey and viktors anchoring presence, to the other way around. the way we delve deeper into it, and find that not everything is so one-sided.

yoi is a love story. and every love story, no matter how small or grand, has two or more interests. two, or more, povs. ep 10 (*which is near the end of the first season), the op and the ending demonstrates this, albeit subtly.

also, the general message of the op is to make a mark. to make history. the ending seems to highlight that, except with a more exaggerated stance. "you only live once." you have one chance, just one, to do this. viktors got it all. fame, money, success. he's done it already - he's made history. he has a title and people know him. but what about love? what about true happiness? has he found them yet? the emotional stability? i think the song in a way, validates viktors constant attempt to attain this - his goal isn't to make history anymore. he's achieved this. his goal is... well - it's something, or someone, else entirely. he was inspired and wants to keep trying.

with that, the part you mentioned about the credits slowing down on a post of viktor at a festival (caption: Nakasu in Japan! Everything is really great and delicious! #Nakasu #Japan #ramen) is another significant piece to the puzzle!

i think the screencap/post itself was sort of foreshadowing the obvious part that alchohol and intoxication plays in viktor and yuuri relationship (or at least it's being the whole catalyst of it),,

but also, it might be another important part of the story we'll see soon. i don't know whether viktors taken the photo himself (which is most likely), or he's pulling someone along who is taking the photo themselves. even then, we really don't know much about it apart from that viktors drunk (he has a glass in hand, is unkempt, blushing, seems carefree). We also know that it's in nakasu (which is a real place in japan) because of the caption. (it's a night district with loads of clubs, karaoke parlors, arcades etc.)

with that, there isn't a lot i can think to propose, other than the foreshadowing theory and that we might get front row seats to drunk viktor having Fun in later seasons.... (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) and maybe some drunk bonding time with yuuri pt2

ヾ(＠⌒ー⌒＠)ノ

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temas-misc-gamework · 3 years

Text

Game List (as of 04/2022)

Released

Romano’s Stolen Lunch

Basic Synopsis: Romano has to go to the meeting in place of his brother and his lunch is stolen. He does not take this very well and decides that he’s going to figure out who did it and give them a few choice words.

What is It: Demo is Released, Full Release on the Way

Is it Playable: Yes Links:

Game Download Link

No One Asked for Puzzles

Basic Synopsis: Metagame about an Artist’s Struggles. Romano is made to solve puzzles and banter with an absent-minded Canada while making jokes at the camera.

What is It: Full Jam Game, Released.

Is it Playable: Yes Links:

Game Download Link

HetaRealms

Basic Synopsis: Once again the Axis and Allies are at one another's throats, but a leftover prank from years prior causes England's spell to once again go awry and launch the nations into an adventure in a parallel world that seems to know more about them then they first think.

What is It: Coded Demo (By Admin), shelved until further notice due to team collapse.

Is it Playable: Yes Links:

Game Download Link

In Development

[With All My Heart]

Basic Synopsis: Ludwig is an android who’s awoken to a mess and a scrambled memory. As he puts his home back together he has to remember the important things he’s forgotten.

What is It: In Development, On the Back Burner (It’ll Happen when it Happens)

Is it Playable: No

2p Dreamtalia

Basic Synopsis: When many 2ps are plunged deep into the mind scape, the others have no choice but to dive in after them.

What is It: In Progress

Is it Playable: Old Version Prologue Coded, Not Public

The Double Effect (Previously Hirchsprung)

Basic Synopsis: The German Brothers have a cabin, out deep in the Black Forest, which they politely ask to not be visited when they’re out there without warning. The Italian Brothers do exactly that, and it goes as badly as you expected.

What is It: Game Concept, In Development.

Is it Playable: Yes, Not Publicly.

England Has a Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Halloween, ft. The Russian Federation

Basic Synopsis: England gets cocky about having won the last few Halloween scare contests the nations hold, and so a bunch of nations team up to give him the spooks. It goes just about as badly as you can imagine.

What is It: Concept

Is it Playable: No

Fool’s Paradise

Basic Synopsis: A game I plan to make regarding the appearance of Pin, an old rival creature of Britannia, and his plans with the nations of the current world after he was sealed away for many many years. He has a show he wishes to perform and the nations are unwilling actors.

What is It: In Development, In Need of Active Team/Rewrite

Is it Playable: Previous Version Prologue, not public.

Links:

Theory Doc

Insomnolence (Misc Alex Game)

Basic Synopsis: “Insomnolence” meaning, “Sleeplessness”. Example: After a week of insomnolence, Alexander was left exhausted and unable to focus on anything.

What is It: In Development, On the Backburner.

Is it Playable: Bit and Pieces of Old Concepts, but not Publicly

King’s Corner

Basic Synopsis: Alfred is off to get help to retake the throne after it’s stolen from him.

What is It: In Development

Is it Playable: No

Under the Vale

Basic Synopsis: The nations fall into a backwards world mirroring Under/Wonderland and get caught in the midst of a pseudo-war between the Red and White courts. They have to find their way out, try to not lose their minds, and also find out the source of this complex conflict.

What is It: In Progress, Needs A Heavy Rewrite and Team

Is it Playable: Old Version Prologue Coded, Not Public

On the Shelf

World End’s Umbrella

Basic Synopsis: Matteo, Ludwig and Elijah have lived in a city where a massive umbrella shields it from colossal storms. It’s been so long, that no one even remembers what the real sky looks like.The trio decide they want to see the “true” sky they've only seen in books, so they set out to climb the umbrella tower that protects them from the torrents of rain.

What is It: Concept

Is it Playable: No Links: Song Inspiration

He Doesn’t Have a CLUE

Basic Synopsis: A hetagame framed as a play, a game of clue, where you have to find out who killed Russia before the time is up with the help of Canada, at the detriment of the possible killers.

What is It: Concept, On the Shelf. Needs Heavy Rewriting

Is it Playable: Old Version Partially Coded, Not Public.

Heta-Andriods

Basic Synopsis: A FNAF crossover; Android nations exist with a bug that acts up at night causing them to act strange and aggressive. Do your job as the night guard and don’t die along the way, or work the day shift and snoop around during the day.

What is It: Scrapped, Interesting concept that might be worth reviving some day.

Is it Playable: No, Piece coded in Novel Maker and Ace, neither have anything substantial Links: None

The Mysteries of the Westport History Museum

Basic Synopsis: A small series of vignette games following the nations as they are spirits attached to occult objects in a history museum. Many shenanigans ensue.

What is It: Concept

Is it Playable: No

Halloween Game 2: Fear Boogaloo

Basic Synopsis: A sequel to england has a terrible halloween, a handful of nations go through a haunted house hosted by russia and end up being forced to confront their worst fears (but this time it isn’t actually Russia’s fault)

What is It: Concept, Shelved for Lack of Time/Ideas

Is it Playable: No

316 Concept Project

Basic Synopsis: Welcome to the OMNI-SIGHT CORP™

Where Knowledge is the Future!™

If you are reading this message, you are one of the few lucky companies/individuals given early-access to the Databank of the Future! No longer will you need separate algorithms running your tracking and data management, your security and your reference archives. Thanks to the power of OMNI-SIGHT technology, this and more can be condensed into a singular adaptive and learning AI with the power of hundreds of thousands of data management firms and scientific labs behind it.

Welcome to the Linked Universal Databank! Your L.U.D. is fully customizable and can be adapted to your every request and need. Thank you for your acceptance in the trail technology phase, please email us any inquiries about your L.U.D. through [email protected]

What is It: Game Concept

Is it Playable: No Links: None

Noir Germany Game

Basic Synopsis: Germany gets sucked into a mystery book he’s been reading and has to solve the crime or risk being stuck there for good.

What is It: Concept, Shelved for Future Use

Is it Playable: No

Enna Partner Church Horror

Basic Synopsis: A group of urban explorers wander into an abandoned, haunted church and have to fight for their lives to escape what is hidden within.

What is It: Concept, In Progress but On the Back Burner

Is it Playable: No

Identity Theft

Basic Synopsis: Prussia finds a mirror at a thrift store that will show him anything he desires, but the mirror itself seems to have other plans for its own desires.

What is It: Concept, Shelved for Possible Future Use

Is it Playable: No

GerCanMano Casual Crafting/Dating Game

Basic Synopsis: Germany lives in a small valley town, and does small jobs and forages items to make things to give to his husbands and help solve his neighbors problems.

What is It: Concept, was coded, but it was lost.

Is it Playable: No Links: None

The Puzzle House (With Alex and Mattie)

Basic Synopsis: Alexander and Matthew stumble into a haunted home that’s determined to keep them there indefinitely.

What is It: Concept, shelved for time.

Is it Playable: No, Just mapped partially.

MetaCanada

Basic Synopsis: Was originally a not-game concept I made for fun, and I have always wanted to go back to it. A game that is aware it is a game, in which Canada is trying to prevent the player from meddling in his affairs.

What is It: Was an Interactive Video Story, Now it exists as a concept for a game.

Is it Playable: No, but it was coded as an interactive story. Links:

Chapter Doc

Pied Piper Germany Concept

Basic Synopsis: A concept game idea based on the myth of the pied piper.

What is It: Concept, No Heavily Defined Ideas yet.

Is it Playable: No

Welcome Home

Basic Synopsis: Matthew wakes up in a home that isn’t his, and another opportunity opens itself to run away from his problems.

What is It: Scrapped Concept. Was a concept for a jam that linked to Forgotten Memories, but since FM was dropped, it was as well. Could be brought back with a rewrite though.

Is it Playable: One scene, not public.

#game work

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Tower Tales

4: Turns out, they can get sick of each other

AO3 Link

@asilcorner YEET

Time passes and it’s maddening. Yakko keeps a calendar, but there’s no point in trying to know how long they’ve been trapped in here when they can’t even tell if they’re sleeping at night or day. They don’t know how long an hour is, a minute, month, a week, a day. Not by heart. So, for a while, they have to guess.

Yakko eventually makes a clock, sets a time, makes their day as normal as he can, starting the hour at a random time and suddenly dinnertime is 5:30pm instead of just sometime before bed, even though they can’t tell if it’s even close to 5:30pm outside. It doesn’t matter if it turns out they aren’t following the sun, the sun has never followed them, so fair’s fair. Besides, why stick with the world’s set of rules when those rules act like this is fine, that them being trapped is fine?

And hey, what’s a little madness? Who cares, right?

The tower becomes a lived-in space. The first two floors become living room areas, bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom. They never can be certain on the decor, and it changes daily, weekly, hourly, but that’s fine, because the idea of everything repeating, like the days have no difference between them makes Yakko want to curl into a ball and never straighten out.

The third floor is left mostly barren, because that’s where they practice their toon powers. Wakko has a penchant for bombs and offensive weapons, Yakko finds he can pull a pen out of anywhere and anything, and Dot has an affinity for her mallet, as well as fashion.

She likes to tailor, on occasion, and bribes Wakko to be her model for it by letting him perform songs via burping after dinner—she doesn’t mind the sound, it’s really the smell that makes her hate the whole thing—and Yakko starts being able to pull out random books from his hammerspace. They’re typically books he likes, thank god, but sometimes they’re just confusing. He likes Dr. Dolittle, though it is a bit silly, and the idea of talking animals being strange doesn’t make sense to him, being animal-like himself, but at the least it’s an interesting series with many books to go through. He likes Winnie the Pooh, too, and the Velveteen Rabbit is surprisingly sad, but at least it’s a change of pace in comparison to the happier children’s books he reads.

He ventures to more adult focused books, like The Great Gatsby, which is depressing but also an interesting commentary of the time, and the Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie. He actually reads through that one a couple times, to go back and find the clues Miss Christie left for the reader, and he finds it utterly fascinating. Who knew that someone could write like that? Leaving little pieces that only come together to make something when the last piece is found. It’s like a blank puzzle that turns on when you finish it.

Dot likes to read with him, pulling out a magazine about the daily fashion news or parties. He doesn’t know what Playboy is, but the moment it appears in her hands he rips it away and throws it in the fire. She evidently sees enough just from the cover, because she doesn’t argue.

He occasionally reads to Wakko and Dot. Typically before bed—he regrets ever reading the Velveteen Rabbit to them, because Wakko didn’t sleep for a few days after. He tries to get Wakko to read with him, but Wakko seems to find learning anything in a standardized way quite difficult, and all it took was one semi pointed comment from Dot about it to keep the boy from even trying, shame painting his cheeks the red of their nose. Yakko considers talking to Dot about it, but he doesn’t want to further embarrass Wakko by bringing it up, and it’s hard to be secretive in a small space.

So he lets it go, because they have plenty of time—too much, too much to ever fill, and sometimes all they can do is sit and hope for it to move faster because boredom makes them dull and he hears Dot cry into her pillow some nights because she’s not as quiet as she thinks she is and he sleeps so lightly he can barely call it rest—and continues to play and have fun and learn new things. He gets an atlas, one day, and memorizes the names of all the countries, hums out a melody, learns rhyme schemes.

And when he starts up a tune, they all fall in line. That’s the thing—while he and Dot learn the normal way, Wakko seems to be able to do just about anything when he stays out of his own head. Which is odd, because Wakko doesn’t talk too much, so he must be in his head plenty. Perhaps, then, the line between thinking and doing is so wide that when he tries to both everything gets jumbled. Because when they burst into song, Wakko dances and prances and creates lyrics like a pro, whether they’re singing about nothing at all to complex philosophical concepts, with a plethora of large words that if Wakko tried to read he would trip and stumble as they were slanted stairs. Occasionally, Yakko will ask if Wakko even knows what they’re singing about, only ever curious, and Wakko can talk his ear off about it all. Yet, when Yakko brings him into a classroom setting, Wakko’s face goes blank, and no comprehension of anything Yakko says ever shows.

Clearly he has a grasp on the English language, clearly he’s smart—Yakko could never think his brother stupid, because no stupid person could build a second floor without any plans, could follow jokes and make his own quips on occasion that send him and Dot into laughing fits, could pick the perfect moment for a physical joke in the middle of a conversation; no way that Wakko is anything close to stupid—but the moment it’s a classroom type setting all of that goes out the window. Is it the motivation? Is it the material? Is it him?

Yakko has to figure this out, but at least he doesn’t have to figure it out soon. He has time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They aren’t perfect, despite the look of them, despite how they’re drawn to be. They can’t be expected, forced together 24/7, to not get into petty squabbles. And they are petty. Dot hates sharing the bathroom with ‘gross boys,’ hates it when they play during dinner, Yakko hates it when they’re making too much noise during his reading times, when they complain too much, Wakko grumps about when they eat something he was supposedly saving, or throw something away he thinks he could eat (a.e. a banana peel, a watermelon rind, moldy bread, etc), or when they talk too softly or too fast, as if they don’t want him to be able to listen. It’s never anything too bad, and they get over it within the next few hours, but sometimes it builds.

For instance, Wakko is going stir crazy.

Dot and Yakko can tell. They don’t mind sitting still on occasion, given the right persuasion, but Wakko is a mile a minute of movement, everything twitching and tapping, tail swishing back and forth and wagging when he’s excited.

There’s only so many times one can run around a small space before they get bored. Only so many months one can spend exploring and doing the same things with little variation

“Ugh, there’s nothing to dooooooo,” Wakko whines, flopping onto the armrest of Dot’s chair. She and Yakko are reading the same book, they’re going to discuss it when they’re done. It’s a fun blend of their skills and likes-talking about reading.

“There’s plenty of things to do! Why don’t you read a book with us?” Dot suggests, and maybe it’s a little mean, but it’s more out of ignorance than cruelty. It’s been what feels like a few months since she saw Wakko struggle, how could she have known that he’d written off reading entirely.

“You could read to me,” Wakko actually perks up at his own suggestion, like a lightswitch flipping on. Yakko doesn’t mind it at all, and is about to volunteer when Dot raises a brow.

“Can’t you read yourself?” She shoots back, and Wakko deflates, before he crosses his arms, on the defensive.

“I don’t need to,” He says, and Doll rolls her eyes.

“If that was true, you wouldn’t want someone to read to you,” Like usual, her words are sharper than his, but she makes one mistake. “You can’t just refuse to learn forever. What are you going to do when you get into the real world?”

Dot is trying to hope. She trusts that, someday, they’ll escape. Doesn’t matter how long it takes, they’ll still escape, because she trusts their family, and she trusts their growing abilities.

But Wakko...well, he isn’t quite so positive, at the moment.

“We’re never going to the real world!” He shouts. “I know what forever means, I’m not that dumb, and that’s how long they’re keeping us here,” Dot is taken aback, but Wakko is a roll, frustrated and ashamed and angry, and Yakko is cut off by his next spitting sentence. “And the worst part of it is that I’m stuck here with a stuck-up jerk like you!”

“Wakko Warner!” Yakko stands, and he doesn’t typically raise his voice like this, not angry, but that was uncalled for, and Wakko—

Wakko flinches.

Yakko falters, Dot’s eyes are already teary, and Wakko dashes off, vanishes up to the second floor before anyone can stop him.

Yakko attends to the sibling that is close by, because Dot is upset and angry and hurt, so he soothes her tears.

“Why would he say that?” She asks, confused. “Did he mean it?”

“Of course not—he’s just not handling this as well as you are. You picked reading up way faster than he did. He’s been struggling with it, and with all...this,” he gestures to the tower. Dot sniffles. “You do have a habit of saying things that make you sound high and mighty, your majesty,” He adds, with a grin, and Dot giggles a little, wiping her eyes.

“Sorry,” She says, and he shrugs.

“Not me who needs an apology, sis, but I appreciate it anyway. Let’s give Wakko some time to calm down, kay?” He picks her up and smiles. “I don’t know what chapter you got to, but I have some thoughts on the 5th one.”

She grins back at him.

One down, one to go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They find Wakko curled up in a ball on the couch upstairs, face hidden from the world and back facing the outside. Dot comes over quietly, soft steps toward the tense coiled spring that is her brother.

“Didn’t mean it,” He sounds very...defeated. “I’m sorry, Dot,” He sniffles, and she still can’t see his face.

“It’s okay,” she responds, because staying mad never helped anyone anyway. “I shouldn’t have been so mean about it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was so hard.”

“It is,” Wakko finally turns to face her, and his face is stained with tears. “I can’t get it to make sense in my head—and you got it easy. Maybe I am stupid,” He turns to face her, sitting up and curling his knees to his chest, and the last phrase is muffled by his knees.

“You’re not! You’re better at building things than I could ever be! Words can be hard, though. It took me a bit to get it.”

He looks over at her, shyly, as if searching her face for any sign of a joke. She remains resolute, and sincere. “Really?”

“Yeah! Hey, maybe I could try and teach you. Yakko’s a real lazy teacher,” She jokes, and Yakko takes that as his cue to walk over.

“I take offense to that,” He responds without heat, before looking over to Wakko, who shrinks under his gaze. The action makes Yakko want to disappear—how could he make his own brother scared of him?

“Sorry for scaring you, Wakko,” He tells him, hoping Wakko accepts the apology.

“It wasn’t you-it was just,” Wakko is quick to reassure Yakko that he wasn’t scared of him, because he wasn’t, and knows that Yakko would never act in a way that should make Wakko afraid of him, he just was scared because “You’re tall,” He finally finds the words, and Yakko blinks. “The execs who didn’t like us, they were tall, and they shouted a lot, and I was thinking about when we were out and I was already upset and it just happened, but you’re not scary,” He gives Yakko a shaky grin. “How could someone even be scared of you?”

“Hey,” Yakko takes mock offense, but a weight lifts off of his shoulders.

He shuffles over, and takes the hat off of Wakko’s head to ruffle his hair. Wakko reaches for it with sweater paws, standing on the couch to grab his hat back, and the tense air starts to dissipate.

Wakko yawns.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. Yakko settles down on the couch, between him and Dot, and lifts Wakko into his lap.

“Guess it’s naptime, then,” He leans back, hands behind his head. “Dot?”

She’s already curling up against him.

Eventually, Yakko manages to get horizontal, Wakko and Dot curled up together on top of him. Slowly, he lets out a sigh of relief and sleeps.

The next day, he finds Dot and Wakko at a new dining room table, both hunched over a piece of paper. Wakko looks very confused, and a little frustrated, but Dot goes over the same letter sounds over and over as if it were the first time, and that type of relentless explanation manages to get through the mental blocks Wakko sometimes has.

“So, the ‘c’ makes a cuh sound, ‘a’ makes an aay sound, so what’s that word?” She points.

“Ca-Catch?” Wakko tries, and Dot cheers, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You did it!” She says, and Wakko brightens like the sun.

“Faboo!” He responds, and the exclamation is so startling that Dot starts laughing. Wakko joins in, and Yakko is chuckling to himself all the way to the kitchen.

Within two months, Wakko joins their book club. They make matching t-shirts.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yakko loves his sibs, he really does. They’re basically the only reason he stuck around for so long. They need him.

But sometimes, he doesn’t want them.

Little siblings bicker and it gets real grating. He just wants one day, one, where he doesn’t have to deal with a stupid argument! Is that so much to ask

He feels like he never gets this petty over the small stuff. Aren’t there more pressing things to be upset about? He doesn’t expect his siblings to be friendly to each other all the time, but would it kill them to resolve their own issues? Especially when they’re as small as whose mallet is whose(they’re identical) or where a furniture piece should go(when it’s going to be moved within a week anyway, because they’re always changing the format of the tower). If Wakko’s hat is better than Dot’s flower. How the kitchen silverware should be organized, even. Yakko can’t see why it matters

He can’t even get peace now, trying to get through the book they’re in the middle of in their book club. Wakko and Dot had sped ahead one day when Yakko was making dinner, and now he’s trying to catch up, but he can’t because they’re having another shouting match. They’re hunched over a fashion magazine, trying to figure out what? What dress looks cuter? Wakko, apparently, picked the wrong one, and now Dot is upset, and now he’s upset because she’s upset at him, and it’s just so much.

Eventually he snaps.

“Alright, that’s it!” He shouts, and Wakko and Dot look up from their squabble-about what dress looks cuter, off all things. “I’m going upstairs, and you two deal with each other for a few hours, because I can’t.” He runs a hand down his face and sighs, grabbing his book and disappearing to the second floor, not even bothering to see their reaction.

And you see, you’d think he’d like the peace and quiet, but two hours in and his ears keep twitching, aching for the sound of silly conversation and laughter and pattering feet. Sure, they’re annoying, and they squabble over silly things, but Yakko is paranoid at heart because the background sounds of them messing around is somehow relaxing, because then at least he knows that they’re there, that they’re safe. Silence is uncertainty, silence means he’s alone, and he keeps subconsciously searching for their noise, to know that they are, and in turn he is, safe and there. He thinks he might be a little too used to them, because without the ambient noise he can’t focus.

Four hours later, and he comes back down, and is greeted to an armful of new books he definitely didn't make, and they don’t look published. They look more like...picture books?

“We made them for you!” Dot says.

“I did the pictures, and Dot wrote the stories,” Wakko adds.

Yakko’s heart is so full it feels like his ribs are cracking.

“What a couple of authors you are!” he laughs, and they follow him all the way back to his chair. He sets the books in a stack on his lap, picking up the first one and opening his mouth to read aloud as Dot and Wakko sit on the armrests of the couch, eagerly awaiting his narration and reaction.

Yakko thinks he got pretty lucky with his sibs, even with their petty arguments, smiling down at the pages and reading the books through.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot loves her brothers. She does.

But they’re gross.

Well, not gross, but certainly not clean. They make messes and forget to clean them up. And it’s not that bad, Dot doesn’t mind cleaning. Wakko builds them things, Yakko takes care of the meals, cleaning is just part of her chores in this whole situation.

It reaches a limit, and she hits it when she watches Yakko spill marinara sauce all over the ground and then do nothing about it. Wakko slips in it and the two just laugh it off, but the sauce splatters everywhere, and she has to clean that, and—

“Ugh!” She stomps her foot in frustration, and Yakko and Wakko turn to her, confused. “You two are disgusting! I have to clean this all up later, and-ugh!” She turns on her heel and heads upstairs. She slams the hatch door to the second floor shut, and Wakko and Yakko wince at the sound.

“Is the second floor specifically for upset people now, or is it just a really lazy plot device?” Yakko snarks, and Wakko blinks.

“Should we clean this up?”

“Yeah, probably.”

She comes down an hour later, because she skipped dinner and though she doesn’t have a food issue she’s used to eating with her siblings, and she walks into a sparkling clean kitchen.

“This is a once a year affair,” Yakko says, as she stands there shocked. “Maybe thrice if you pay us.”

“I ate a bar of soap,” Wakko says, and bubbles come out of his mouth.

“You two are ridiculous,” Dot says, and she can’t help the grin on her face.

She hugs them till she hears something crack. Probably Yakko’s back, with how tense her eldest brother is.

It’s halfway to filthy by the end of the week, but she can tell they’re trying, and that’s enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So yeah, they get sick of each other. They have petty and not so petty squabbles, but no matter what they end up in the same place.

Curled up near each other, blankets pulled close so that the edges of the bed are barren. Yakko always talks in sleep, Wakko drools and kicks, Dot will shift from time to time and grab at air, or anything in grasping range, but they won’t wake up, because despite those annoyances, together they feel safe.

And that’s what family is for, isn’t it?

#animaniacs 2020 #animaniacs #kitkat1003 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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songsformonkeys · 4 years

Text

Burning Alive (dave york x reader)

summary: Dave York smut, inspired by the lyrics to the song Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia

word count: 2600

rating: explicit

warnings: there’s no plot here, just filth

notes: Thanks to my lovely friend @yespolkadotkitty for beta and enabling this weird and sudden obsession with Dave York <3

Link to AO3

Burning Alive

It's a beautiful house, small but picturesque. It has a big wrap around porch and it is painted in a light shade of blue, which you suspect makes it blend into the sky on cloudless days. It's too dark to tell now. There isn't really a garden but rather a big expanse of grass with the occasional appletrees strewn about and, standing just outside the front door, you would have the most beautiful view of a mirror-flat lake during daytime. The place would look like the perfect postcard. If it weren't for the four dead bodies inside and the, close to, overwhelming smell of gasoline.

”Come on now. Strike the match,” your partner says, a little impatiently, as he emerges from the depths of the house with the now empty canister of gasoline. You have half a mind to tell him to chill and ask him if he'd preferred that you set fire to the house while he was still in it, but you're a little too afraid of what the answer would be. Besides, you know that whatever argument you start with a man like Dave York, you're going to regret later.

Dave snaps his gloved fingers. The sound of the snap is dulled but it gets the point across. You pull the box of matches from the pocket of your jacket and strike one. For a moment, as the small flame flares up, it feels like time is slowing down and you look up at Dave's face. He's watching the tiny flame too and the harsh shadows the glow casts across his face makes him look just as dangerous as you know he is. You want him to kiss you senseless, take you right then and there against the car. Your grip on the match tightens and you toss it into the house before you accidentally snap it in half.

The flames immediately take hold and start spreading. Dave spares it only a moment's glance to make sure the match survived the trip through the air before turning back to the car. You stay for a few moments longer, to watch, feeling a sense of wonder at the beauty and power of the flames as they engulf the house.

When you eventually tear your eyes away and turn to join Dave, you catch him leaning against the side of the car watching, not the house but you. It's too dark to make out the expression on his face but you know and as you walk over to him you put a little extra sway into your hips.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

The car ride back to the motel is silent, apart from the purr of the engine. The purr might as well be coming from you. The thrum of excitement and anticipation has your body feeling taut like a bowstring. Every time Dave moves, you almost jump out of your skin. You never know when the first touch will come and his face is impossible to read, even after years of watching him. Sometimes you don't even make it off the scene of the crime before he's on you, and sometimes he suggests you stop for dinner on the way home and by the time his hands finally touch you, you're close to tears. You can't tell which scenario you prefer.

You and Dave have been working together for five years. On the job, you know just how he works and what he's capable of, but outside of the jobs you do, you know next to nothing about him. You don't know what he does other than killing, if he has a different job or a family even.

Dave knows more about you than you know of him. You don't know exactly how much. He knows where you live at least. He proved that a couple of years ago.

It had been a particularly nasty job. Things had gone to shit, the wrong mark had been killed and you had decided that was the final straw. You wanted out. So the next time the phone rang with an offer of a job, you ignored it. It rang again half an hour later. You ignored that too. After the third time, it stopped ringing. As the day passed, you felt lighter, like the air was a little easier to breathe. You went to the movies by yourself and watched a movie you had little interest in, but you felt normal. On the way home afterward, you even bought a bouquet of yellow tulips. You felt free.

Right up until you'd entered your apartment and found Dave in the kitchen. He'd been furious, demanding to know where you'd been. He'd paused for a second when he spotted the flowers in your arms. It had been as if he couldn't quite fit the puzzle pieces of you with flowers, instead of a gun or a knife, together. The confusion lasted for a brief moment before he'd stalked over to you. You'd dropped the flowers, ready to defend yourself, but Dave hadn't fought you, at least not in the traditional sense. Instead, he'd crashed your mouths together with a force that you thought might crack a tooth. That was your first time. After a kiss that felt like a punishment, you had proceeded to rip each other’s clothes off, the tulips trampled to bits on the floor, before Dave had bent you over the kitchen counter. And as he'd sunk deep into you, he'd leaned over your back to hiss in your ear:

”You don't get to quit. We burn together, you and I”.

Sometimes you still entertain the thought that he will show up at your home again, but deep down you know that if he does, it'll be to kill you.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

You get to the motel and Dave kills the engine. He doesn't say anything and there's a frown on his face. It doesn't matter. You know the drill. In a smooth motion, you slide out of the car and walk towards the front desk. As you walk, you can feel the slick between your legs that has begun to seep through your panties. You rent a room for the night and the person behind the desk hands you the keys without barely even looking at you. You wonder if that's something they've trained themselves to do. The people who come to a place like this don't want to be seen.

As you walk out, you wave the keys in the air for Dave to see before heading straight for the room. You hear the car door open and slam shut behind you. The numbers on the keyring are a bit worn and it takes you a minute to figure out whether the last number is an 8 or a 9. In the end, you're 90% certain that it's a 9 and you decide to try it.

You have barely gotten the key in the lock when two hands suddenly grip your hips roughly and pull you back against a hard chest. You jump, hadn't heard Dave come up behind you, and as the surprised noise escapes your throat you hear him chuckle.

Dave bats your hand away from the key and unlocks the door himself. He yanks the key out and tosses it on the table, where it skids to a stop just before it slides over the edge and onto the floor. And damn if that isn't symbolic of what you're pretty sure is about to happen.

Dave propels the two of you forward, kicks the door shut behind you and before you have time to register what he's doing, he has you pressed up against a wall. His forearm is like a vice across your chest and he uses one of his knees to nudge your legs apart. He's staring you straight in the eyes. There's a wildfire there and you know, without a doubt, that you're gonna let him burn you.

”Dave,” you breathe and when he reaches a hand up towards your face, you think for a second that he's going to caress you. Then he presses the tip of his index finger lightly against your lips and murmurs ”Open.”

You immediately obey and suck the digit into your mouth. Dave makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and presses closer. You can feel the hard line of his cock firmly against your hip.

The pad of his finger feels rough against your tongue when you suck it deeper into your mouth, still holding his gaze with yours. His hand smells faintly of gasoline.

When Dave pulls his finger out, it's with a soft 'pop' from your lips. His other hand has cleverly worked open the button of your pants and the slow 'tic tic tic' as he pulls the zipper down, sends shivers down your spine.

You've done this so many times before. There's never a question of if this is going to happen, only of when and how. There's an unpredictability about Dave which makes every time feel as exciting as the first.

He holds you trapped against the wall as he works his fingers into your pants and into you. You gasp at the first stretch of his fingers and he wastes no time before hooking his fingers to rub at that spot inside you, that's he's well aware drives you absolutely wild. Your eyes fall shut. You toss your head back and it connects with the wall behind you with a thud.

”Careful,” Dave says, in one of his rare moments of showing consideration.

”The wall isn't what's gonna kill me,” you whimper as his fingers pick up pace.

”I know,” Dave says and your eyes fly open as he roughly thrusts his fingers deeper inside you, forcing you up on your tippy-toes. You don't ask him to elaborate on his comment.

Dave knows just how to keep you balancing on that fine line between pain and pleasure. He's rough but it's what you need, to know for certain that you're still alive. Years of working these jobs have turned you numb to so many things in life. These moments with Dave are the only times when you truly feel something. It's not love. That's too sentimental an emotion. But desire, pure and raw, and all-consuming. You want Dave, and there's no scenario where that ends well.

Your first orgasm has your knees buckling and it's only Dave's arm, still across your chest, that keeps you standing.

In yet another act of kindness, he lets you catch your breath slightly, before he pulls his fingers out and holds them up to your mouth. You lick them clean and he watches you like a starving man.

His fingers are soon replaced by his lips and he gives you a bruising kiss. Dave's left hand rests gently around your throat, his thumb and index finger only just grazing your jawline for support. He doesn't press down, not yet anyway. But with Dave, you can never quite know how far he will take it. Sometimes you suspect that he doesn't quite know either. More than once, after the heat and flames have died out, you've caught him touching a bruise on your skin with an almost surprised look on his face. Like he can't quite remember marking you that way.

It's all part of the Dave York experience, and you want more. Reaching between you, your fingers find the zipper to his green camo jacket. You yank it down and push the jacket off his shoulders before reaching for his pants. Dave doesn't help you. Instead, he just watches you, with his own face inches away from yours and with an infuriating smirk on his lips, as your desperation increases over not getting his clothes off fast enough. It's only when your fingers attempt to sneak under the edge of his underwear that he steps back and lets you go. You stumble as the pressure of his body against yours suddenly disappears, but manage to regain your balance just in time to catch Dave kicking his pants off. He stands before you and for a few seconds, you allow yourself to just drink in the visage of this man before you, wearing nothing but a worn t-shirt and a pair of underwear.

Beautiful isn't the right word, but your body yearns for him.

So you quickly shimmy out of your own pants and soaked underwear, and pull your shirt and sports bra over your head.

Dave holds his hand out for you, like he's asking you to dance. In a way, that's just what this is. When you take the hand, he yanks you close and bites down on your neck as he lets his hands rediscover the newly exposed skin. You can practically feel the bruises forming as he grips your hips tight and grinds you against him for some friction.

”Bed,” he orders and by God if that doesn't send a surge of heat through you. You grip the hem of his t-shirt and begin walking backwards towards the bed. Dave follows but lifts his arms to allow you to pull the shirt off. As soon as he's free of the fabric, he manhandles you onto the bed.

It's half wrestling, a half-hearted attempt for dominance, but Dave always wins and soon he's got you on all fours in front of him, keening as he runs his thumb along your slick folds. You can't think straight. You hear the tear of a condom-wrapper and when the head of his cock pushes into you, you feel like crying from desperation.

Luckily, Dave is well past the teasing portion of the evening and so he immediately sets a brutal pace that would have had you banging your head against the headboard repeatedly, if you hadn't anticipated this and given yourself some extra space.

You moan and say his name, the sounds forced out of you which each violent thrust. His breathing is labored but he doesn't say anything. You're used to this. Dave isn't really a talker, unless it's to give orders.

Your second orgasm is rapidly approaching and you can feel Dave's thrusts getting more and more erratic, which is a sign that he's drawing close as well. Balancing your weight on one arm, you reach down to touch yourself with the other. You're impossibly wet already and your finger slides easily over your clit, which is good because the pleasure is making you rapidly lose all fine motor skills.

Dave comes first, with a low groan and a few more punishing thrusts before he folds his upper body over you to suck a mark into the skin of your shoulder and to reach around and help push you the last short distance over the edge. The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first and this time you actually do collapse onto the bed, with Dave still on top of and inside you.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

Afterward, Dave is still silent. But it's a different silence from the one before, less charged. This is where you take the reins. This is where he shrinks and you grow. He's next to you on the bed, with his head resting on your chest. He looks smaller somehow. Softer. This is where you get to push his buttons.

You grip his chin gently and tilt his head up. Then you kiss him like he's something precious and with each kiss, you feel him break a little against your lips.

”You and I, we burn together,” you whisper. This is all you have and there's no telling for how long. There's no happy ending for people like you. Just a box of matches and the promise of a spark.

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york/reader #equalizer 2 fanfiction #smut #my fanfiction #burning alive

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jenivi7 · 3 years

Text

First Lines Tagging Meme

I'M SO HAPPY TO BE TAGGED IN THIS TWICE! Thank you @ink-flavored and @clyde-side !! (I almost just did this on my own too because I love babbling about my own fics...)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

Now pinned and under a cut because it became a really long, really good introduction to me and my stories!

Hello!

Unnecessary and overly wordy introduction/personal musings: I love opening lines so much. When I worked at a bookstore, I used to open books and hardcore judge them on their first lines. I had barely any free time to read at that point so if it didn’t grab me in the first line or two, I put it back. The first Harry Potter book is actually in my pile of really good openers. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Subtle alliteration, HELLO??) So I'm super excited to see if my own first lines come even close to the standards that I apply to other people lol. MY OWN MONEY IS ON NO. I have the feeling that I'm so frantic trying to get the story down on paper before the good words disappear from my head that I'm not actually paying attention to the first line. BUT LET'S SEE, SHALL WE.

So just straight up going backwards, I've written and posted TWO BRAND NEW THINGS after being away from fandom almost entirely for 10+ years! They're drabble length but they're shiny and new! <3 (All available fics are linked!)

1. Tango:

She teaches them to dance so that they can dance with her but when Atem gets that mischievous smirk on his face and pulls Yugi into his arms, their bodies spark and the dance floor smolders at their heels.

(The fic is so short that this is a full 1/5 of it but actually, I think I crammed all the good stuff right into that first line. This already might be my favorite. Like it says there in the line itself, Puzzleshipping.)

2. No Betting:

Anzu sat at the kitchen table writing carefully calculated answers onto sticky notes before attaching them to a fourth-grade math worksheet.

(Peachshipping! This one doesn't pop off until about line five so here's the rest of that bit:)

She had the same arrangement with her spouse as most parents had. When the kids were good they were hers. When they were bad, they were his. And when they were winning at games because they picked up rules with uncanny speed and read their opponents with more insight than ought to be available to a child, they were definitely, definitely his.

3. If you wanted honesty that's all you had to say (working title):

When he realized that the figure sitting under the game shop display window and smoking wasn’t Ryou, the physical body response was as though it had discovered a coiled snake not two feet away.

(This one! It's a NEW half finished(?) WIP. I actually started this one before the drabbles but wanted to finish before posting it. Then it got out of hand, then work got out of hand, then I started a couple more projects and well. I keep putting words on it though and eventually there will be a Kleptoshipper that turns into Puzzle and Tender for your reading enjoyment. Also, fair warning - don't use song lyrics as a working title. Every time I look at the document I get the song stuck in my head.)

Now we have polished up reposts of old stories for their move to AO3, where I'll basically keep my master archive. Not full re-writes but I fixed a bunch of typos and awkward sentences and they're much stronger for it. Most of these are from a pairings contest way back when so LOTS of different pairings and lots of AUs!

4. Human:

It was like a bad noir, the thought crossed both of their minds.

(Scifi AU, Rivalshipping. That one's not bad for a first line. Actually no link at the time of writing cause the re-edit is going up in like, a half hour? an hour? a half day? It's my next project after finishing this, finishing up the edit and posting it on AO3. Now with link!)

5. Blood:

Fingers through midnight black hair, whispers in his ear, touches that sizzled along the skin, awakening nerves and senses.

(Dungeonshipping, Pegasus x Otogi, vampires AU. Oh that’s a nice first line! <3)

6. Crazy for You:

The keys are too large and too heavy for the doctor more used to more modern facilities but she doesn't say anything, just follows the orderly as he pulls the large door open.

(Manipulashipping, Anzu x Marik, Psychward AU. Still one of my favorites from that era. Big bold warning though, THIS ONE CONTAINS NON-CON)

7. Finality:

“What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye.” Bakura’s translucent arms swept across the graveyard. “Is this not an appropriate place for it?”

(First two or so bits of dialogue as the first first is a generic question. You can tell this is one of the really old ones just by that but it's a sweet, sad little Tendershipper that still has a special place in my heart.)

8. Pieces of You:

Glitter caught the light, leaving shimmering trails in the air as it got everywhere.

(Glittershipping, Anzu x Kisara. Another one that's special to me. Kisara is my girl and my first writing muse. <3)

9. Cambodia:

“It was summer of fifty three...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, it can't have been fifty three. You might be that ancient but I'm not. It must have been sixty three.”

(Jiishipping. Yes. Sugoroku x Arthur. HEY, IT CAME UP IN THE RANDOM DRAW FOR THE SHIPPING CONTEST OK. And my writer's brain hasn't backed down from a challenge yet... Another one that takes 4 lines to pop off but it's a good start. Actually, here's the rest of the bit just because I cannot get enough of these two bickering:)

“What do you mean it must have been sixty three? You don't even know what story I'm trying to tell.”

“Am I in it?”

“What?”

“So you're deaf now as well as daft? AM I IN IT?”

“Of course you're in it, y'old coot. Don't know why I'd tell a story without you in it when both grandkids are sitting here.”

10. Coffee and Cigarettes:

"Cigarettes and coffee? That's not a very healthy lunch."

Mana crossed her legs and took a refined sip of her own coffee even as her company was not.

(Mischiefshipping, Mana x Thief King Bakura. Oh this one I'm actually sad that it doesn't immediately sparkle in the first line cause it's one of my absolute favorites of everything I've written. And I think it's the only time I've ever written Mana but I LOVED IT AND HER. Oh no! I lied, I've written her at least one other time though I don't think that one quite captures her sheer chaos energy like this one does.)

11. A Million Missed Chances:

Somewhere along the line, someone made a choice.

(This one. THIS ONE. I think this is by far the most epic idea I've tackled. I still don't know if the sheer scale of the thing came across in the actual fic but in my head it was massive and I remember pounding away at my teeny tiny laptop late at night because the whole thing hit me maybe a day or so before the story was due for the pairings contest. We only had a week to write each fic and my really good ideas never came to me before the very last minute. T.T Conquestshipping, Mai x Valon.)

12. A Fear of Falling:

She drove.

Like she always did when something bothered her.

(Oh the first chapter on this is also one of the really ancient ones. Like one of the very first things I wrote. That first chapter really shows its age and is a little shaky but the others are better and the last one is what fits into the chorological order here. Polarshipping, Jou x Mai. One of my very first ships. Probably THE first actually <3)

13. What Our Creators Make Us:

"Well, well." The match flared, scattering dark shadows until it was blown out and the only light that remained was the red glow from the cigarette end. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

(Psychoshipping, Marik x Spirit of the Ring Bakura. With a bit of Bronze, Angst and Tender in the follow up. Old but I'm ridiculously proud of it, hence it's place in the master archive. Ahaha you can tell how old it is though by how clever I think I am. I thought it was funny to make my audience figure out who was talking and not reveal the characters for a good fourth to third of the fic. Ahhhhhhh. Sorry about past me.)

14. A Revolution of the Spirit:

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

That they were close was understandable (you don't get much closer than sharing headspace) but that even now, after deals were made with gods, endless arguments, compromises and the ultimate guilt trip that he had only been a teenager when he willingly sacrificed himself for all of humanity, things she had only half seen and only partly understood even though they had all been there to witness, that even now Atem continued to invade Yugi's personal space as though he belonged there got on her nerves.

(Woah Nelly! That third sentence should probably be three, four and five. Even if I just split it in half we'd continue the pattern of things popping off in the fourth line. I think that's one pattern that's emerging! A really good bit takes me about four lines to set up and deliver! Oh, the challenge was Revolutionshipping, Anzu x Atem, but the fic is actually Spiritshipping, Anzu x Yugi x Atem.)

So confession time, I haven't been out of fandom completely, I just hadn't written my own standalone stories in a very long time. There are a few (ok ok more than a few) long-running rps that @miss-moberg and I have been adding to on and off over the years. I can't resist throwing in a couple of these.

15. Cafe!

The door shut behind them with the soft click of the latch and the exhale of a breath long held.

(This opening line was from December of 2020 when we rebooted a very old Prideshipper and that is a damn good opening line if I do say so myself. I can definitely see the difference now between the newer works and the older ones. I've gotten better, she's matched me pace for pace and eventually something will be finished, I'll work up the courage to ask permission to post it and the whole internet will get to see how brilliant the two of us are together.)

16. Treasure Hunt!

"Ryou, I think you're going to regret letting me tag along on your adventuring this time." Yugi didn't bother turning away from the airplane's tiny window to see if his seatmate was paying attention. He was more thinking out loud with his friend playing the role of a convenient sounding board. "Because I think this trip is the only thing I'm going to talk about ever again."

(One more from RP because it's got that fun, four line punch that we've discovered is a pattern for me! Opening entry is from 2017.)

Also, in truth, my count is a little off when I say I'd been out of fandom 10+ years. I've been away from YGO for that long but I did spend a brief stint in Homestuck where I read a ton of fanfic, flirted with a couple group RPs and even wrote a tiny bit. 9 years without writing a new fic isn't as impressive as saying ‘over a decade’ but it is a little more accurate.

17. What You Will:

In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of its rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood.

(The beginning of a Homestuck/Twelfth Night crossover that I'm still determined to work more on someday. It's only got a single chapter but it's magic though now I'm concerned about not being able to recapture that. Not a bad first line though. The style is so different it took me reading it a couple times before going, oh yeeeeeah, that's pretty good!)

18. Relentless:

You pull him to the deck and then across it by the remains of his shirt. Let him say one last goodbye. His ship pillaged, his crew murdered, his hands bound behind his back and at your mercy.

Funny word, that. Mercy.

(The first line is pretty decent but there's that four line combo again! Five but I could basically fix that with a comma. Featuring the troll ancestors Mindfang and Dualscar because every time Hussey introduced new characters they were instantly my favorite.)

19. Black:

There is dark and there is dark and there is dark and then there is black. She is black. Licorice and coal. She is hate and resentment and everything that tastes bitter, the kind of black that coats the tongue like oil, drips down the back of the throat and keeps going.

(Oh wow. Am I allowed to say that about my own work? A Terezi/Vriska drabble that I'm putting as much here as I think I can get away with because it's so good that it fucks me up a little going back and reading it.)

And here it gets tricky because I think the more recent of the old, old fics are in the Drabbles and Shorts collection on ff.net and I can't see a post date. So I'll just pick a good one to end on.

20. Two Princes:

It was inevitable as the rising of Ra's chariot after a long night, as the flooding of the river banks every spring, and Atem always knew that Yugi's kiss would be as warm and gentle as the evening breeze in the summer that brought relief from the scorching day. It was.

(How about the final honor going to more Puzzle/Blind? This probably has the strongest first line of its era. Actually I'm not sure when it was written. It was just hanging out in my writing folder and, thinking about it, I probably wrote it when I was fading from fandom the first time around but still trying to hang in there. No wait! That’s too sad, we can’t end on that! Lets add one more to the list for the sake of personal narrative!)

21. Linger:

The world doesn't need him anymore. It doesn't need his sword and it doesn't need his pen.

(A tiny Princess Tutu afterward that I wrote for myself. Nice one-two punch in the opener. Also it rounds out the personal story that accidentally developed here with a line later in the fic, "Words, however, never stray far from a good writer..." Like, wait, stop. Past me, how did you know T.T)

Did that take a sudden emotional turn for anyone else or was that just me. Can I offset that a little with an honorable mention? Let’s do that while I collect myself. Here’s one more.

Honorable mention: Ryou and the Thief

There was a storm gathering and too much magic in the air. Much more than occurred naturally and magic at this level was never a good thing.

(I can’t have a list of things I’ve written without having Ryou and the Thief on it. If you click on this one though, BEWARE, it’s old, it’s silly and it has a ton of explicit gay sex that… would be written very differently if we were handling it today I’m sure! This is the first RP @miss-moberg and I ever did together and our excuse to Gemship and Puzzleship turned into us running the boys through a whole adventure based on the Osiris myth. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever completed and I’d still consider it kind of my legacy.)

And that’s the last 21(+1!) stories that I’ve written!

The clear winner of best first line for me is 15. Cafe! It’s short, elegant and manages to contain a whole mood even without the context of what’s going on and who’s involved. (Spoilers: It’s Seto and Mokuba making an AU escape from Gozoboro.) Close second is Tango, the most recent story. It’s neat to see just how much better I’ve gotten and also really cool to see that even if the first line itself doesn’t contain a punch, it’s usually because there’s a nice, strong idea being set up and delivered in the first four lines (or so). What a pleasant surprise!

AND WOW, this whole tag thing didn't need to be so long! Or personal! Seriously, if you get this tag from me the challenge is only to list the first lines to 20 stories and maybe try to draw one or two conclusions from them. You all thought I was joking when I said I loved talking about my own writing! But actually, I guess it’s fine like this as I ended up using it as a way to re-introduce myself. Like, "Hey, I used to live here a long time ago and oh my god I love what you've done with the place!" Rather than being someone who's just popped up out of nowhere a few weeks ago to creepily bother all your best of the best creators so....

^///^ Hello!

Thanks for letting me ramble!

Tags! I think I've seen most of the authors I follow do this already but on the off chance you haven't been tagged yet: @elexica (checked your blog to see if you'd already done the tag and saw that you're another person returning to writing fanfiction after 10+ years. Same! Hello!!), @danieco, @draconicmaw, @nedjemetsenen (has someone tagged you already?) and two shots in the dark, @miss-moberg and @edmondia (I'm so sorry you two. T.T Please feel free to block me forever.) And please, anyone else who wants to babble about their own writing! Do this, it was so much fun. <3

#ygo #yu-gi-oh #yugioh #yugioh fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jenific #so many ships #so many characters like woah #not half bad for a retrospective if i do say so myself #thank you for coming to my ted talk #tag game #first lines tag

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yejiroh · 4 years

Note

Hello! I love your Wake Up and See Me story! (not so secret slut for angst and character death) I'd like to request very angsty HCs for Obey me! charas x fem!reader who is still grieving for her family singing her mother's lullaby while spacing out somewhere public. The lullaby in question being Lullaby of Woe by Ashley Serena, The Hanging Tree from Hunger Games series or Come Little Children by Erutan. Wanna see their reactions so bad!!!

I- I really need to update that series. Thank you so much for the support of it anon!

And thank you for the request darling! I’m sorry it took so long, but the lullaby’s were beautiful! So yes, I decided to listen to them all and match them with who I think it’d get the best reaction from! I made a little scene as well before the reactions, so it may or may not be a bit of a long read.

Lullaby Reaction! Obey Me BROTHERS x Fem!MC (ANGST)

Couldn't add the Keep Reading link because Tumblr is a beeotch. Sorry not sorry to everyone because this is LONG!

***

TRIGGER WARNING: death, loss of parents, toxicity, mentions of cannibalism, more death, child abuse, traumatic stress, mentions of suicide, nightmare factors, unintentional murder, loss of siblings, and as the anon requested, A SHIT TON OF ANGST!

Side note: I really really liked Lullaby of Woe...may consider making a series based on the lyrics. Who knows?

***

This one is kind of long because I did get carried away, but I do hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

***

Lucifer, Mammon and Beezlebub: Come Little Children

As the cool Autumn breeze hit her face, MC took a sip from the hot cup between her clothed hands. Today would mark the 15th year since the orphanage- her orphanage, had burned down. All 23 children and her parents except she had burned to an ash- less than that truly. She, with her ill body and frail stature, she, with her poor value and level of importance, she, the one who had been trapped in the building longest of all.

Every time she had walked into the toy store around the corner, MC felt pulled towards the puzzle sets. Specifically, the 24 piece sets. MC was the 24th child. But she was also the first. Every day, she’d buy a set, just to lay it on their graves, sorry that she had been left behind.

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away, into a land of enchantment…oh momma, I’m so sorry I let you all down...I’m sorry I played with the fire, I’m sorry.” A tear had poured down, slid to her dry lips as she desperately held them back.

“I’m sorry momma...papa...I’m sorry I didn’t listen...I’m sorry I killed you all…”

And, as she walked away from the tombstones, a heart that was not hers broke.

{Reactions}

LUCIFER:

1.Never before had Lucifer been so...disturbed.

2.The song was stunning, and that was true….but somehow he could relate

3.He would definitely stay on the down low for a while, his pride showing when he has to come up with lies as to why he wasn’t talking to you

4.Okay, flashbacks for weeks. He was genuinely affected by the song.

5.In the end, he needs more comfort than you once he finally kicks pride out the window and sheds tears in front of you.

6.“I’m sorry, MC…”

MAMMON:

1.Okay...he wasn’t the best at spying on you-but he was worried! Your behavior was odd since last Sunday...actually, every Sunday.

2.He ran out to you, crying hard as he tackled you, saying how sorry he was for digging into your personal life.

3.The demon was holding fistfulls of little puzzle pieces, candy, and notes, claiming they were from the souls of the children, who wished you the best in life and to move on.

4.He, the avatar of greed, had done something of huge charitable value for these children as he held you close

5.Yes, he got flashbacks….but decided not to dwell on them, more so trying to comfort you.

6.“Stupid human...you can come to me always, ya know that?”

BEEZLEBUB:

1.Beezlebub doesn’t always show his feelings, sure. But he does, forever and always, come for those he cares about.

2.It’s like a magnetic pull as you cry. He’s there, wiping the large tear threatening to spill with his thumb, licking it off before wiping his hand off.

3.A kind smile with eyes pain ridden as his big hands engulf your own, for he too, had a tragic past and lost someone he considered blood.

4.“It’s okay, MC. They’re right here, and always will be. Please don’t cry.” He says as he points to your heart, right by your breast, but with no sexual intent. Only comfort.

5.“Come on, big girl, don’t cry, I’m here.” He says, holding you close and running his fingers through your hair with the gentlest of touches.

6. No one can harm you in your vulnerable state as the Avatar of Gluttony protects you.

Satan and Asmodeus: The Hanging Tree

It was in class- herbology. The lesson was on wisteria trees when MC bordly began to hum a tune.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? They strung up a man, they say who murdered three. Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight, in the hanging tree.”

“Miss L/n quiet down! I’m trying to teach!” The professor had called out, but MC was lost as tears began to bubble up. She continued her little song quietly as her desk mates huffed in annoyance. She’d done this every day of the week, only to end up crying. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, nor did they get a word out of her. Not until Amso took MC and Satan out for a spa treatment.

Filing her nails, Asmo blew off the dust, his brows furrowed.

“Say, MC?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is it you sing that depressing song every time someone brings up wisteria trees?”

Now Satan looked up, lifting a cucumber off his eye, his curiosity sparked. MC looked away, pulling her hand away from Asmo’s as she pulled her knees to her chest, a deep sigh escaping her lips. Asmo quickly waved his hands in front of him.

“Oh, sorry, sorry MC! I didn’t know it was a touchy subject-”

Satan interrupted. “Care to share?”

“Satan!”

“No, no, Asmo- it’s okay. It’s...it’s just not something I really talk about.” MC said, finishing off with a whisper.

The two leaned in, eyes big and expectant when MC looked to them.

“You know, my father passed away when I was really young. It was a selfish reason, really- to put it into his own words, it was, “To escape the responsibility of life.” , but that wasn’t the case.” MC raised her pant leg, revealing all the burn marks and scars covering the skin.

“It was really to escape the guilt of hurting me.”

The brothers went quiet for a moment before Satan put a hand up.

“So what does that have to do with that song you were singing?”

MC smiled bitterly. “Because he was the man in The Hanging Tree my mother always sang to me.”

“So what happened to your mother?”

“She too, joined him in death…and left me alone.”

{Reactions}

SATAN:

1.He was at a loss for words, to say the least.

2.Never, in the demon’s countless millennia had he come across such a pitiful soul

3.Taking a bite of the cucumber before tossing it aside, he took the other off, tracing his fingers across the burns that resembled his rage: Ugly, loved, and traumatizing

4.As the room was quiet, he just felt intrigued to know more, had to know more.

5.“You’re very strong, MC.”

6.The Hanging Tree did not leave his mind for quite some time as he tried to figure out the mystery MC had unknowingly left implanted in his brain.

ASMODEUS:

1.He has never ruined his makeup by crying in front of somewhere. Never ever.

2.But he sure as hell came close to it.

3.Asmo had nothing to say but grab MC’s hands and kiss them softly over and over again before continuing the manicure he had initially started.

4.A mental note to take MC’s mind off other things so as not to give her wrinkles from stress or depression.

Leviathan and Belphegor: Lullaby of Woe

She never had a peaceful night's rest. The dreams always came back to haunt her.Each night, she’d live through it, again, and again, and again. Oh, how the false man in white would come to her, a mischievous grin on his handsome face before cutting into her mind, showing her the deaths at her fault. Her mother, kind and beautiful, always coming in to protect her, reassure her that it wasn’t real, that she was seeing things.

“Momma, please! I’m scared! I don’t wanna see him again momma!” A little girl wailed, holding onto her mother’s waist, legs wrapped around in a firm hold, hands bundled in her clothes.

“My darling, please just sleep~ I’ll always be here love. Always.”

And always she was, for her remains laid in that rotting home to this day, not yet known. Still, no one would believe the late Mrs. L/n’s daughter.

MC shuffled more in her sleep before finally waking up, eyes puffy from the unconscious crying. Slowly she got up, getting ready for the school day as she washed her face, prepared, and left the room.

“Good morning.” Each of the brothers would greet her, to which she’d return a small nod. There was nothing to talk about. Not when these nightmares haunted her so.

A little girl sat by her mother’s corpse, a man beside her.

Drink, child. Feast in the blood of a sinner.

“...But….but mother wasn’t a sinner…”

“Ignorant child. You are but a bastard, for she was never married. Drink and cleanse yourself of the blood of a sinner. Repent and be saved.”

Truly, the false man in white was but a liar, wanting nothing more than a child’s innocence and fortune as he toyed with her.

Lost in her own fantasies, she began to sing, the tall Jubokko tree towering beneath her with the damned’s skulls by her feat.

“For the witcher, heartless, cold...Paid in coin of gold, He comes he’ll go leave naught behind, but heartache and woe…”

“Deep, deep woe, for the witcher, heartless, cold, Paid in coin of gold, he comes…”

MC’s voice broke into it, pathetic cracks of the voice clear but quiet as she stopped.

A small applause was heard behind her; Belphie and Levi had seen and listened patiently, attentive and concerned.

The Avatar of Sloth put his arms down, kicking a skull as he sat down.

“That was a beautiful song, MC. What has made you so upset?”

Levi too, had sat down, his eyes no longer focused on the forgotten D.D.D.

MC just smiled sheepishly, sitting down with the boys as she tucked back a loose strand away.

“It was nothing important. A story for another time.”

{Reactions}

BELPHEGOR:

1.Girl, honey, darling. You're lying. It’s okay! You can trust him!

2.If MC doesn’t end up telling him, then he can just slip into the dreams (I think?)

3.Honestly worried for you. He’s the Avatar of Sleep- he KNOWS you’ve been disturbed lately, and more so than others.

4.Can you imagine the pure look of hatred once he finds out about this man?

5.And ew, you drank your mother’s blood?

6.But that’s cannibalism, which is a major sin so…

7.I guess you really can stay with him forever!

8.Honestly, he’s like a flame; burns as long as there’s fuel, then will move on to another topic.

LEVIATHAN:

1.So yeah. He didn’t really say anything.

2.But he was listening.

3.Didn’t make an anime reference once because nothing he’s ever knew of had been that horrifying.

4. Didn’t wanna make you feel shy about it, but kind of hints about it later on.

5.No, he doesn’t care about the man, because as you sat down on the skull ridden dirt, you just seemed so...peaceful

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Amphibia Reviews: The First Temple or Bessie and Joe: The New OTP

Hello all you happy people! Amphibia season 2 moves right a long and it’s time for some video game shenanigans as we enter The First Temple! Family drama, snail on bird action, and outhouses await you under the cut with a recap/review with full spoilers.

So we open with the Plantars having chocopillbug pancakes. Ironically my mom offered me chocolate chip pancakes after this and thank god for that. This is a rare treat to the point Anne didn’t even know they had choclate, and is suprisingly not strangling Hop Pop over this. Unsuprisingly he broke out the good stuff to try and make up for hiding the box and things are still VERY awkward between the two, with Hop Pop walking on Egghshells around Anne and Anne doing the same when he brings it up with both desperatley trying to avoid the subject and Sprig not helping by bringing it up a bunch.

I like this a lot and didn’t really think about the series continuting any tension over his decision.. but should have. Partly because this is a modern animated show and most of this wonderful new wave of shows have a LOT of emotional nuance. ANd partly because this show dosen’t forget things even most nuanced shows forget: the fact the characters cause chaos and learn life lesons is outright RECOGNZIED by the show as a pattern and brought up quite often, as are the patterns that lead to it, like mostly being sprig and anne, anne’s impulsivness that sort of thing. It’s the kind of thing you just gloss over in most shows but this one lampshades to hell and back for funsies so when something THIS important happens, you’d better belivie it’s not just going to disappear.

The tensions thankfully broken by a new arrival, as a massive sparrow shows up in the yard. “It’s a giant bird with.. books on it’s back.. what. “ Great delivery from bill there. Naturally it’s Marcy!

I missed this little goober. Such a joy to be around, and she of course marvels over the Plantar’s house before getting back on track: She’s found the first temple.. even though she sent a letter saying that and it’s not commented on that she did. It set off the whole previous episode Marcy... you okay Mar-Mar?

That aside though it’s time for the first temple and Marcy asks for the Box, with Sprig trying to make a joke about how good thing she didn’t ask for it a week ago.

Polly rightly punches him in the ribs... do frogs have ribs? Hold on.. okay here we go

Huh.. so they do not You learn something new every day. Well lack of ribs or no our heroes are ready.. while Marcy’s sparrow Joe is also ready TO GET IT ON. Yes really, he does a mating dance for Bessie, complete with an intersumental version of “Sylvia” from last season. God damn that bird’s got game. The only time i’ve seen more game is THIS.

Marcy tells him to knock it off. Look marcy your a pet owner now and as a pet owner, it’s your responsiblity.. to let your giant bird do horrifying things with a slightly smaller but still giant snail. it’s what nature intended. Nature was doing a lot of cocaine that day but we still honor her wishes.

But anyways Marcy’s figure out something intresting about the box.. by winding it just right the gems pop out, which allows her to take one, we later find out it’s the green one, to use in the temple. So off we go with Marcy and the rest of the kids up top and Hop Pop.. screaming in Joe Sparrows claws. He’s fine.

So while they get ready, Anne worries about the amount of puzzles and hazzards Marcy’s hyping for this but Marcy shurgs it off and gives her own big boast about how may RTS she’s beaten.. suspciously like Yuaan as one post on here pointed out. Not a huge suprise though, to Marcy she’d just be the grand hero out of one of her rpg’s and not think of how many people she probably killed or who she’s working for.. though you’d THNK given all the RPG’s both tapetop and on her switch she’s played, that Marcy would see that “the benevolent king turns out to be the big bad” trope coming.

But Anne’s worry is not on the big bad of the show but on Marcy who has a tendency to get so in the zone she ignores the world around her, which goes from focusing on her game while helping anne get softserve leading to a mess, not letting Anne down in a play and.. Anne catching Marcy on tv as all the snakes escape from the zoo.

Regardless our heroes arrive and while the awkwardness between anne and hop pop continues, they find a majestic temple.. and what appears to be an outhouse. Hey we all gotta poop sometimes, even people making a majestic temple. If you don’t it comes out like this.

So they head in and we get our first puzzle, a mysterious cube that lifts you into the air and allows you to tilt the thing around.

Those of you wondering why I have such a strong reaction have ever never played breath of the wild or played it with a pro controller, i.e. NOT having to tilt the very thing your screen is on because Nintendo has failed to grasp that MAYBE people don’t like that, that it takes you out of the experince and that it’s really hard to focus on your screen while having to move the fucking system about. And the plantar’s getting horribly jostled around as she moves it is EXACTLY how it feels to play a puzzle requring that shit.

Next is a color based tile dungeon leftover from Link’s Awakening DX. As marcy figures out the reds do fire and the blues do crushing... but she reads the language (And as she put earlier “Guess who learned an entire dead language?” God she’s precious. ) and finds a green with envy pun (Which Hop Pop takes offense to.. several of his friends are green.). Which is curious as given several citzens of amphibia are green.. why would they make a green pun? So she gets on one tile and Hop Pop plans to take the risk of getting on the other green tile, but Anne does it instead.. and things get heated between the two as Anne reveals she no longe feels like family since he did what he did for polly and sprig and hop pop takes offense as she IS. Even if he screwed up with her. But Anne’s near death experince activates the tile.

The final challnge switches us from Zelda.. to Harry Freaking Potter.

Now I used to love Harry Potter, with all of my heart. Then JK Rowling turned out to be a transphobic piece of shit who thinks she’s an ally, but is really a bigot who wants to “accept” trans people without giving them any rights. So yeah while I still love the starkid musicals, ore more accuratley the music from them, and own a copy of lego harry potter I got as a gift recently as both parties had no idea she was a monster when this stuff was made. Still a sore subject though, but if I didn’t bring up the similiarties I wouldn’t be doing my job as a critic and this was likely thought up long before JK outed herself as well...

No no the great mighty poo respects all peoples.. and wants to take their heads and ram it up his butt. He’s an equal opportunity butt rammer.

Anyways this is the frog equivlent of chess flipfrog, and just like with Wizard chess, our heroes end up as the pieces minus marcy.. and in a nice twist on that scene, Anne ends up on the other side. Marcy is a grandmaster at it though so after an hour or so of play she almost wins.. only for the king equilvent to refuse to be taken and the automatic board she’s up against to send Anne against hop pop, and with our heroes magically restrained and given stone weapons, this can’t end well. Eventually though Anne’s forced to hit HOp Pop multiple times and while he says “well isn’t this what you wanted”, she says no.. she didn’t want to phsyically hurt him it’s just complicated. So we get one heck of an emotioinal scene as Hop Pop just wants to help and wants this to stop and dosen’t knoow how to fix this which as someone who desperatlyt ries to fix most emotional situations right away this hit very hard.. and her response of needing time hit harder. The two while not reconciled, ar ecloser to it and Marcy realizes what she’s done getting so obessed with winning and forfits for thier benifit. Our heroes leave, seemingly having lost.. only to find glowing arrows to the crap hole, which turns out to be the pedistal. The temple wasn’t just an intellegence test but empathy.. and the temples are clearly built to specifically test each of the chosen three, our heroines, specifically. Marcy’s tested her intellegence.. but also her willingness to let go of cold clyincal thought to do the right thing. That earns her her gem recharged and a flash in her eyes and her gem starts pointing to the next. She needs time to triangulate and hop pop and anne are back on workable footing... though our heroes offer to take a break instead of going to the next temple.

Back in Newtopia, Yuaan reports on the toads gathering.. but dosen’t get to mentioning sasha before Marcy’s letter interrupts and Andridas oddly and aburbly dimisses her.. and goes to talk to a watcher with a thousand eyes, his “master” who has plans to undo the prophcey and get their revenge.

Final Thoughts: This was a damn fine episode that gave Marcy some much needed character development, and gave the reveals of last episode some more emotiional fallout. It also had some really great jokes as always. Top notch stuf.

Next Time: Marcy tries to win everyone over through science and we FINALLY get an episode with the Frog Robot apparently. Horay

Next on this Blog: We go into final space yo! It’s unexpected births, ho yay, and horrifying zombie gary’s galore!

Until then if you liked this review, follow me for more, join my patreon, comission a review if you please and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. Play us out jeff... and I haven’t done THAT bit in a while but eh. This song was too perfect.

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#amphibia #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #the first temple #hopidah plantar #sprig plantar #polly planntar #king andrias #the watcher with a thousand eyes

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pressedinthepages · 3 years

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Sidetrack: Jaskier

Summary: In which there is an answer (sort of) to the age old question: What The Fuck is Jaskier?

Series Masterlist

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

A/N: THE FINAL PIECE TO THE PUZZLE. Thank you so much to everyone that has stuck around, and I am so thrilled with this final bit of the series :)

Jaskier had always been an odd child. He was never quiet by any means, always humming and babbling even before he could really talk. His eyes always shone a bit too bright, and his feet would take him to wander as far as he could before being swept up by his nanny.

As Jaskier grew, so did his hunger for something more. His fingers itched towards the lute, and for any and every instrument after that one was mastered. There was an ache deep in his stomach, one that could not be quenched by food or drink. He yearned to follow the sun as it set, trying to find the line behind which it sank every night.

Something pulled at him, leading his feet to take him past where his eyes could see. And Jaskier didn’t look back as he finally gave in to that urge. He played his way through cities and courts, for knights and peasants. And yet he still felt incomplete, still felt that hook buried deep in his chest, yanking him towards more.

But as Jaskier watched the Witcher with the bright silver hair make his way out of the tavern in Posada, he felt his soul being pulled along behind. So he packed up his lute and followed along, despite Geralt’s best attempts to keep him at bay. Soon enough, the Witcher even started to tolerate Jaskier, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

And who could blame Jaskier for falling for Geralt, anyway? Sure, it started with lust, as most of Jaskier’s encounters do. Big, strong Witcher with a voice like honey-coated gravel and thighs that one would wish to be crushed between, what more could a bard want?

Soon enough though, it turned into something much deeper than Jaskier could have ever imagined. Every fiber of him was alight while at Geralt’s side, and the words of worship poured out of him. Everywhere that they traveled together, the people sang his songs praising the White Wolf.

When they would part, Jaskier would sequester himself away at the University, teaching to get by and to ignore the void which clawed at his insides. The moment that the snow would start to fall, his bag would be packed and waiting by the door, every single year.

Twenty years, the two of them traveled together. Closer than Geralt had ever allowed anyone to get to him. They shared food, wine, beds, warmth, even a woman on one quite memorable occasion. But all of that had been thrown to the wayside atop a mountain, chucked over the cliff to tumble to the bottom.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands,” Geralt had said. A part of Jaskier died that day as he trudged alone down the mountain. The wind bit at his nose and he rubbed his hands together for warmth, but nothing could soothe the ache in his bones from his soul being ripped out of his chest.

Jaskier was back to wandering, but now it just felt empty. He knew what would quell the anguish, but it had sent him away. So he tried in vain to fill the gaping hole in his chest. As the next spring rolled around, filled with sprawling fields bursting with life, Jaskier curled up cold and truly alone.

He wasn’t quite sure what exactly happened, but from one day to the next, something quite drastic changed. Jaskier began to see the world in all of its futures, and the people themselves in the destinies they chose to create.

It was poetic really, that the man who spent half of his life telling the stories of another’s destiny found himself so woefully intertwined within everyone else’s. And he found himself going back, rewatching the pain wrought upon his life atop that mountain, forced to witness the endless pining from behind his own eyes.

He wandered further, seeing countless futures laid out before him, and he knew that he could reach out and change them in the blink of an eye. But he felt no urge to change, no. those decisions should be made by the people themselves. But if they only knew what could be, maybe they would have more of a chance.

Jaskier soon found himself atop another summit, but now he only observed as a Witcher lay dying. The hulking figure was curled on his side, the blood pooling beneath him in a cruel wash of bright red. His swords lay just out of his reach, and his dark hair was strewn over bright golden eyes, so similar to those that Jaskier gazed into for so long.

And suddenly, a new figure burst through the trees to fall at the man’s side. She was striking, visibly strong and had two swords strewn across her back, and she grasped at the dying man on the ground as if he were her only hope left in the world. As the blood stained her hands Jaskier knew that he had to fix this story.

And so he did. He went back to a tavern in the middle of nowhere, finding the two Witchers leading their horses into town, along with a little goat that stole Jaskier’s heart. And then, when he finally sat down before the woman, he saw the story behind her eyes of how their story was meant to end.

At heart, Jaskier was a bit of a meddler. Sure, it had gotten him into trouble a few times, but it had paid off many more. As he spent his days trailing behind these two hopelessly in love idiots, he felt the pull behind his stomach less and less. Instead, as he watched the warmth bloom in sweet golden eyes, his heart swelled and he felt whole in a way that he hadn’t in a long time.

Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat when they all walked into Kaer Morhen and saw Geralt by the fire, younger than Jaskier had ever known him. He could feel the cracks in his heart that entire winter, but felt them fill with mortar watching his two charges fall further and further in love.

And there may have been a hiccup or two, but with a little nudge in the right direction, his two Witchers walked back down together, closer than ever. He watched from afar as Geralt headed straight for tragedy, but that was a destiny that was far larger and more complex than he would dare to meddle with.

And finally, finally, in a great field of poppies and buttercups, of which Jaskier was quite enamored with, thank you very much, his two great ding-dongs professed their love. Maybe their destinies would take them further, or maybe this was the final spot for them, and anything that happened after was out of his hands.

It didn’t matter. Jaskier was whole, and he knew that his Witchers were as well. And no one knew quite better than him:

Hollow things seek to fill their emptiness.

#hollow things #eskel x reader #eskel #jaskier #is not quite right

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harritudur · 4 years

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because every ship needs its ‘we accidentaly got married in Vegas’ AU, so here the noabeth version (AO3 link) 1860 words + pg-13 + no beta, we die like men!

Elisabeth wakes up to a headache, her head pounding too heavily to her liking. As she becomes more and more conscious, her eyes slowly crack open. This is… not her room. Then she notices a cheap plastic ring on her left hand (the kind of ridiculous rings you get for 2$ from capsule-toys distributors) and a warm lump curled against her side.

Well fuck.

The memories of the last 24 hours come flooding back:

—the fly to Las Vegas —the international congress about renewable energy sources —the four boring hours of conference she attended to (without sign language interpreter, thank you) —the open-bar on the second floor —the tall blonde man she already run into two weeks ago in Berlin, and couldn’t stop thinking about since then —his fingers as he tried to remember the few words in sign langage his mother taugh him years ago —his face as he explained his presence to attend the conference of Dr… something? about… doctrines? or was it churches? —his eyes dancing on her bare knee when she crossed her legs —his name she couldn’t stop mouthing between glasses of vodka —N-O-A-H —his hand, warm on her low back when they left the bar —his lips pressed to hers in the elevator —Noah —his arms around her waist as they walked out the hotel —alcohol —music —his mouth —the irresistible perfum she breathed in when her nose brushed the soft skin beside his ear —alcohol —the flashing lights —his mouth —more alcohol —a song —his fucking delicious mouth —giggles —a chapel —a kiss —a hotel room…

She stops and checks under the sheet.

THANKS GOD! Her shirt and skirt are still on.

With great care, Elisabeth stretches to observe her partner in crime. Even turned towards the wall as he is, she can tell he is still sleeping by the quiet rise and fall of his bare shoulders. She decides to take a more attentive look at him and the first thing she notices is a plastic ring of the same quality than hers on his left hand. Oh God. Then, the edge of a tattoo catchs her eyes, linen covering most of his back.

Leaves? Maybe flowers?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Elisabeth pushes the sheet away to reveal the entire tattoo. A tree, with a classic design. Its branches large and full of leaves and fruits (apples), and its roots deep in the soil, each ramification, each bisection leading to a name. Religious names, but from different faiths.

Beautiful.

It’s only when he shudders lightly that she realizes her fingertips were tracing over the ink on his back. By the vibration she feels under them, he is murmuring something and her hand moves away.

After a few yawns, Noah turns over, and a soft smile begins to work its way across his face when his eyes land on Elisabeth.

“That dream again…” he whispers, so faintly she can’t read his lips. But his brief delight disappears when a violent migraine encircles his skull. He blinks, and remembers a few drinks, a few laughs, a few kisses, and… what else? He can’t tell. His incompetent brain makes him groan and Noah covers up his face with his left hand. As he does, something not supposed to be there touches his cheek, and he blinks again before muttering. “What the-”

A silly plastic band around his ring finger. “-fuck??!!”

The memory of his own voice singing loud and off-key Bruno Mars’ Marry You starts to haunt Noah’s ears, and the face of an Elvis Presley in a white rhinestone jumpsuit with a priest’s collar pops right into his mind.

“… oh. Oh.”

Everything is spinning a little around him, but pieces by pieces, the puzzle of the last night starts to reconstitute itself.

“Hm wellllllll… so apprently, we drank a lot,” Noah says as he sits up, cross-legged, and is now facing his wife. “And… we got married.”

The calm in his tone can not be heard, but Elisabeth sees it on his lips, his face, his attitude, his body… This whole situation seems absolutely normal and not upsetting for him, and she just wants to scream.

With great suppleness (which Noah remarks by an eyebrow-raising), Elisabeth reaches for her purse on the ground by the bed, and takes out her loyal notepad and blue pencil to write.

you’re not freaking out?

“Not really, no” he replies, shrugging. “And… It was your idea after all.”

She has to make him repeat the last part, because there is no way that she is at the initiative of this non-sense. Noah repeats the same words, with that astounding calm, and Elisabeth rolls her eyes in a cocky way. She writes down on a new page, in capital:

IMPOSSIBLE

“Yes. Your idea.”

Her head shakes. No. She is a rational woman. A reasonable woman. Sure, this Noah is sexy and hot and funny and smart and courteous and totally her kind of guy and she is definitely attracted to him… but no. No way! She is not the instigator. Or, is she?

Noah smiles at her gently and her chest suddenly tightens. Fuck.

After a tilt of his head to ask for permission, he takes the notepad from her hands and flippes through the previous pages. In doing so, Noah can go back in time, can witness and find passed conversations, and he eventually stops at one page. He smiles again and shows it to Elisabeth.

There, in blue, little hearts all around, a shaky handwriting that she identifies as hers:

<3< 3 marrY ME pleas e <3</i>

“If I remember correctly, you wanted us to get married, and I said no at first -because I thought it had to be a joke. But you almost started to cry. So…” he explains at an Elisabeth deathly pale. “I said yes. And we went to a chapel with an Elvis-priest.”

There is a furrow between Elisabeth’s eyebrows and she just wants the earth to open up and to swallow her. It takes her a long minute to processes the information he just gave and, like a sliver of light through the darkness, she… remembers.

[ she nuzzled into his neck, his arms secure around her waist, and breathed him in. He laughed and Elisabeth felt a warmth rush over her. Alcohol or Noah? She moved away to enjoy the enticing sight and kissed him again. And again. And again. Her hands started to dance in the air, before she could even think about it, and signed: marry me. ]

All the details of the night or their chronology are still nebulous. But she clearly remembers *that* moment, and the way she felt. The feelings. The want. The need to have this man. To claim him as hers. Where did such impetuous desires come from?

She looks up and Noah’s eyes are still on her face, but the calm in them shifts into something different. Trouble? Worry? No. Care, Elisabeth recognizes.

He gets off the bed to look for his shirt and she can’t help but huffes her disappointment when he finds it. Now decent (except for his bed-hair), he stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips in a superhero pose, the one you use when you need confidence and nerve. His face softens into a tender look that makes Elisabeth’s breath hitch in her throat. Again.

“So, now that we’re all better, and sober,“ he says, walking back towards the bed and stops at its edge, “I guess I’ll go get us a divorce.”

A gasp leaves her lips and she sits up straight on the mattress. Divorce. How Elisabeth hates the word. Her parents divorced when she was still in her early teens and, witnessed the torment and tears, and she became determined, more than anything, not to be like them. To marry just once, for good! And with the man of her life.

She shakes her head. One of Noah’s eyebrows arches.

“No?”

She shakes her head once more and this time, mouthes her answer. No.

Noah gulps. It is not the reaction he expected, but it is not an unpleasant one neither. He glances at the end table next to the bed, observing a piece of paper on top. Their marriage licence.

[ they tumbled onto the bed, a mess of tipsy giggles and limbs. Noah pulled away to place kisses all over the side of Elisabeth’s jaw and neck, but she grabbed his face to press his mouth against hers. When Noah came up for air, a giant grin spread across his flushed face. She looked up at him with a tired but tender smile, and her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, too clumsy to work properly. “Let me…” he whispered against her lips, hovering just above them and Elisabeth took her chance to kiss him quickly before falling back on the mattress with a sigh. With difficulty, he eventually took off his shirt and tossed it on the ground. When he looked down, Elisabeth was snoring, dead to the world, and he laughed. Tiredness was taking over him as well, and Noah curled-up in the bed next to her. He pushed gently a stand of golden hair off her face before falling into sleep without a second thought ]

He nods.

“Okay?”

i don’t want to divorce. we could try. and i think i like you.

Her eyes glare at him with demand and Noah tries to find arguments against it. In vain. And he figures out how they ended up in this situation: he is unable to say ‘no’ to her (adorable) stubbornness. But is her ‘i like you’ enough to build a marriage on?

“Okay, okay… we can try and work it out,” Noah states as he sits by her side on the bed so she can read his lips more easily. “And… if we look at the situation in a practical way, there are benefits. Tax benefits. Insurance benefits. I read as well that marriage help you live longer!”

She laughs and he notices the dimples from her smile. Once more, her pen moves quickly over the paper.

marital confidences privilege too

This time, he is the one to smile, and his knee touches hers through the sheet.

“True! I mean… if I decide one day to kill people, I could tell you every details, and yet, you couldn’t testify against me.”

She tiltes her head, an almost curious expression appearing on her face as she looked at him. Then a grin, and more writing.

i was more talking about civil procedure for neighbourhood disputes but im in to cover up your murders

He laughs and Elisabeth wishes she can hear the sound of it. She easily understands how drunk-her could have wanted this man to be hers. Noah moves closer, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but he doesn’t. And a part of Elisabeth wants him to.

Maybe when the time will be right -and after they both have brushed their teeth.

“I will order a very light brunch for two then.”

Noah eventually leans over to kiss her cheek and Elisabeth doesn’t withdraw. She could get used to that.

#okay BUT THEY BOTH TOTALY WILL KEEP THE PLASTIC RINGS -EVEN AT WORK #she will have very serious meeting with the CEO of the TIEDERMANN company #and he will gives courses in front of hundred of students about religions #WITH THEIR RIDICULOUS PLASTIC RINGS (THAT THEY SECRETLY CHERISH)#noah x elisabeth #elisabeth doppler #hanno tauber #noah dark #noabeth #noahbeth #YES i need all the au

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