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ivyprism · 11 months

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Characters and Personalities: ONCE MORE!

The Wizard and the Barbarian Sonas (Info Dump)

Spider Lily (Spidersona Info Dump)

The Suffering Oblivion (Sona Info Dump)

Mermaidsona(Info Dump)

The Puppeteer (Sona Info Dump)

The Other Creations (Skelesona Info Dump)

Blossom (Pirate H Info Dump)

Orchard Worker Sonas (Sona Info Dump)

Deer Monster and Half-Deer Monster Sona and Siblings (Info Dump)

Althaea (The Trapped Mermaid Sona)

The Forgotten Human (Sona Info Dump)

Fellswap Carnelian, Fellswap Amaranth, and Swapfell Glaucous H (Info Dump)

The Past Lives Sonas (Info Dump)

The Soul Sona and the Original Villainess OC (Info Dump)

The Female Lead Skelesona (Info Dump)

The Dating Sim Guides (Sona Info Dump)

The Fallen Royal Twins (Info Dump)

Halloween Sonas (Info Dump)

Selkiesona (Info Dump)

Dancefell and Danceswap Sonas (Info Dump)

The Heroine and the Villainess Who Ruins Plots for Funsies Sonas (Info Dump)

The "Devilish" Heroine (Info Dump: H)

Horror Sonas (Info Dump)

Mafia AU Sonas (Info Dump)

The Final Boss: Skelesona (Info Dump)

The Final Boss: H (Info Dump)

Otter Selkiesona (Info Dump)

Siren!sona (Info Dump)

Dicentra: Tiefling!sona (Info Dump)

Horror: Angels Fall Skelesona (Info Dump)

Trainersona (Info Dump)

The Story Pieces: Sonas (Info Dump)

The Cursed: Sona (Info Dump)

Farmtale Tieflingsona: Harmony (Info Dump)

Sonas, OCs, and Undertale Characters:

Pirate AU (Outcode Skeleton Boys and Sona)

Zombie Apocalypse AU (Info Dump: Sonas and Skeleton Brothers)

The Sorcerer, the Dead Sorceress's Familiar, and the Brothers (Info Dump)

The Fell Sorcerer, the Deceased Sorceress's Familiar, and the Brothers (Info Dump)

Dance Dreamtale and a Sona (Info Dump)

The Mermaid Mercenaries (Info Dump)

Mafiadance Sonas (Info Dump)

Figure Skating Skeleton Boys and Sonas (Info Dump)

The Galaxy Goddesses (Info Dump)

Dreamswap AU: Skeleton Boys and Sona (Info Dump)

Fell! Black Crow Pirates: Skeleton Boys and Sona (Info Dump)

Written Personalities Undertale AUs:

The Bard and the Paladin Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Half of a Heart Papyruses and Sanses (UT and UF AU Info Dump)

The Witch in the Woods and The Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

My Old Swap AU: Rewritten Boys and a Sona (Info Dump)

The Puppeteer's Creations (Skeleton Boys Info Dump)

A Few More Creations (Skeleton Boys Info Dump)

The Warlock Sans and the Cleric Papyrus (Info Dump)

Farm Boys (Skeleton Boys Info Dump)

Horrorswapfell Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Allureswap Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Void Travelers: Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Lost Skeleton Brothers (Info Dump)

The DnD Past Lives Skeleton Brothers (Info Dump)

The Male Lead Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Dating Sim Love Interest (Info Dump)

Werewolf Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Vampire Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Horrorfellswap Amaranth and Horrorswapfell Glaucous Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

OG Skeleton Boys (Info Dump: Revamp)

Mafia Skeleton Boys (Info Dump: Revamp)

Mafia Gasters (Info Dump: Revamp)

Horrorfell and Horrorswap Skeleto Boys (Info Dump: Revamp)

Swapfell Amethyst Boys (Info Dump: Revamp)

Danceswap Boys (Info Dump: Revamp)

Mafia Horror AUs (Info Dump)

Mafiaswapfell Amethyst and Mafiafellswap Carnelian Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Final Boss: Skeleton Brothers (Info Dump)

Final Boss: Gaster (Info Dump)

Final Boss: the Royal Family (Info Dump)

Final Boss: Undyne and Alphys (Info Dump)

Final Boss: Mettaton and Napstablook (Info Dump)

Final Boss: Grillby, Muffet, and Monster Kid (Info Dump)

OG! Gasters (Info Dump: Revamp)

Angels Fall AU: Horror AU Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Mafiadance Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Other Dragons: Horrortale, Fellswap Carnelian, and Swapfell Amethyst Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

My Outcode Skeleton Boys (Info Dump: Revamp)

OCs:

The Pirate Captain's Little Sister (Info Dump)

The Mermaid OCs (Info Dump)

Revamping some Deities and a New One (Info Dump)

Revamped Deities of Time (Info Dump)

Revamped Other Deities (Info Dump)

Seratta (Info Dump: Skeleton OC)

The Sea Serpents (Info Dump: Revamp)

The God of Light Spirits and the God of Dark Spirits (Info Dump)

The Deity of Envy (Info Dump)

The Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: OC Rewrite (Info Dump)

The Galaxy Sisters: Outcode Skeleton Sisters' Diner Rewrite (Info Dump)

The Other Outcode Skeleton Sisters Diner: Rewrite (Info Dump)

Angels Fall Girls: Rewritten (Info Dump)

The Mafia Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: Rewritten (Info Dump)

The Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: Children OCs Rewritten (Info Dump)

The Horror Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: Children OCs Rewritten (Info Dump)

The Mafia Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: Children OCs Rewritten (Info Dump)

The Outcode Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: Children OCs Rewritten (Info Dump)

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river-lethe-tears · 1 year

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DC x DP Prompt

Sam gets Summoned

So instead of Danny being the one summoned, this time it’s Sam. Like, being possessed by Overgrowth (or whatever he’s name is stupid plant ghost :/ ) , made her get some cool plant powers and stuff.

So the cult is trying to summon Overgrowth to return Earth to its former green glory or whatever. But instead gets this small goth girl. Who is suddenly looking very pissed off and angry. And oh no. They try to be really respectful and stuff because what if this is Overgrowth putting them through a test? So they toss their sacrifices into the circle because of course the entity is not happy until it gets what it was promised.

The sacrifices are probably either Poison Ivy who they somehow got (most likely through threatening Harley than knocking them both out to use as sacrifices) or Red Hood since Jason was dead and all plus Lazarus Pits. (Or Batfamily if you’re more partial to that but I did not think of this prompt with them in mind as the sacrifices lol)

So Sam is really confused and pissed off cause she was in the middle of something with Danny and Tucker and both of those idiots are probably freaking out, so she needs to get back as soon as possible. So she just gives a nasty (burger) glare and just waves her hands. Plants start sprouting from the ground and knocking the cult out. Once Sam done she just rolls her eyes in all her goth glory and walks over to the sacrifices to untie them. Poison Ivy then just watches everything play out with amusement as Harley tries to cheer Sam on. If the sacrifices are Poison Ivy and Harley or Red Hood than they compliment Sam on her skills. If it’s anyone else it’s up to your imagination.

So yeah that happens. Depending on who the sacrifices are, after an undetermined time talking Sam just walks back to the summoning circle. She knows all about this stuff due to all the rants Danny goes on and on with about people being so inconsiderate when summoning him. So she just concentrates and taps into either her liminal status, powers due to Overgrowth, or ectoplasm residue in her system and reverse summons herself back to Amity.

The rest of the bats burst in just as Sam starts to reverse summon herself. And are freaking out or shocked before she is just gone. They only get a few glimpses at her and they can’t grasp the colours since the summoning circle starts to glow bright green. Poison Ivy and Harley won’t really tell them anything since they are amused at the bats frustration. (Bats knew to rescue them cause Selena told them that they were missing; Sirens are reformed(?) in this AU)

So the bats are trying to find out more information on this being the cult summoned and the Sirens aren’t really being that helpful. Selena finds it hilarious after Ivy and Harley inform her what happened.

Just imagine a few months later there’s a Wayne Gala going on and the Mansons were invited so of course they came and dragged Sam along. Who also ended up dragging Danny and Tucker along. And the bats casually freak out when they see this girl who looks kinda like the being they saw in that warehouse a few months ago. Oh gods above. Poison Ivy please pick up. Please don’t let this be another Gala being crashed. They can handle their rouges, not inter-dimensional beings they have no information about.

Danny and Tucker naturally finds this hilarious.

Until Tucker gets summoned a month later.

~~~ Please excuse the horrible everything. I am writing this very late, but I had to do a brain dump since this was haunting (haha) my brain. I literally had this idea pop up and not go away while trying to fall asleep. There are so many run off sentences, but I can’t bring myself to care anymore. Sleep waits for no man, woman, or in between before claiming their conscience for a few hours (or days). I might come back later to fix this up and fill plot holes. But that’s a huge maybe. Also I couldn’t be bothered to actually searched up Overgrowth’s real name lol or to fact check anything. My brain is gone. Into the wind. :p

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ruiniel · 1 year

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Oooh...please say more about Môr!

Aw TY! It's a Fourth Age AU fic I'm slowly rewriting, set in a world where the Quest failed, and Sauron rules the lands 🫠😶

Somewhere in North Ithilien, a ragged Elf is captured by a company of sentries, and a half-orc is set to guard him.

Legolas x OFC, enemies to friends to more and all that jazz!

A snippet:

They continued their trek, the wolf cub happily prancing on their trail. It was evening by the time the elf led them to an area where stone and cliff lay before them. Her eyes widened at the sight of a waterfall, crashing from above into a foaming pool below. Kal followed as he began to climb upward, a path probably known to him. The sound of the rushing falls was a balm to her senses, her mind still frayed from the earlier encounter with the bear. They climbed further and as they reached the top of the cliff, Kal discerned the entrance of a cave. It was partly hidden in ivy and overgrowth, but it was there.

"We rest here," she heard him speak.

"I thought we were to reach a stream."

He pointed towards the waterfall. "This, is the stream."

So it was. Well, he had saved her life, again, so what harm could come of this. A cave was nothing to the dungeons of the Tower. A cave and an elf were nothing compared to what she had seen and felt. Then she wavered, planting her feet into the ground and looking at him intently. "Elf."

He faced her with his back to the cave entrance, expectant.

"Gratitude for your aid."

The other seemed only momentarily surprised by this.

"But," she continued, "I sense your wariness and see how troubled you are. I am the same. I know not what your purpose is here, and we come from opposite sides of this world. And believe me, you are not my ideal choice of a companion either," she admitted, seeing a frown deepening on his face. "But if we are to travel together, I think you must learn to avail your suspicions of me. You need not look over your shoulder all the time. You need not snap at all and everything."

His mouth quirked in distaste. "It sounds as if you are asking me to trust you."

The half-orc pondered over the new word. Trust. Unsure of its full meaning she ventured ahead, looking him in the eye. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Much to ask of one who not long ago had been your prisoner," the elf followed scathingly, crossing his arms. Kal saw a flicker of resent in his eyes.

Of course, he would neither forgive nor forget about that any time soon. She looked back to the dark waterfall. "You were, and I had done what I was told, though I know that is no excuse," she added quickly. "But you are no longer a captive. Now, I am one who needs you," she blinked, "...needs your aid," Kal corrected swiftly. "I have done nothing to increase your suspicions of me so far, and we have already fought on the same side, twice."

They stood so regarding each other, the sounds of the water thrashing in the silence. Why none moved nor said anything, Kal did not know. "What say you?" she hedged, following any change in his stony expression.

His scouring gaze did not deter her. There was something in his manner which led Kal to think the elf was weighing her words. It was tiring, the way they acted towards one another and it was time for some sort of change, but both needed be agreeable to such. She surely was.

His jaw was working, his gaze boring into her for another long moment. "Trust is not easily gained. But, one can aim for more understanding," he relented.

"A truce, then?" Kal asked, relieved, placing a fist to her chest in Mordor fashion.

Then to her surprise, the elf bowed his head into her direction, his palm coming to rest over his heart. "A truce." When he looked to Kal again, there was a roguish grin on him. It was a stark change from before, and one which made her wonder. "In this new spirit of understanding, you are responsible for gathering sustenance this evening," and with that, he turned towards the cave.

Kal frowned, grinding her teeth. "I have dealt with Uruks with less bite and better moods than you, elf," the half-orc grumbled with a sigh. She proceeded to follow, the wolf cub close behind.

"Legolas," he said, stopping to look over his shoulder at her. "My name, is Legolas," the elf repeated, before resuming his stride.

#tumblr games #random fic snippets

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impyssadobsessions · 2 years

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I want to tell you thank you very much for introducing me to the concept of Danny Phantom with bat fam I am absolutely obsessed and thinking way too much about it. I cannot get my mind off possible scenarios like if the whole freakshow mind control thing happened again with them and stuff

Aww! You're welcome! LOL I actually never cared for crossovers or for dc and marvel... Until about last october when I got finished reading on the DP fics I could.. so I then I binged the crossovers... and found out BATFAMILY was a thing.. kek ... then I ran out of that and made a fic LOL Long story short, glad my random hyperfixation inspired you too! And YESSS It has sooo much endless potential. Like there are soooo many things you can do with Danny and the bat fam! From secret blood relations- still want to see one with Jason and Danny being brothers, to like befriend them off handedly.. could be angst could be fluff.. could be chaos, could just be chill. Their villain mash ups, AU, danny either living in DCU all this time or being brought there. Oh yea still want like Poison Ivy and Overgrowth combo... Freakshow is such a good one too for DCU.. like he fits right in. Imagine Dick going to circus or taking brothers to circus just to see what it is about.. turns out to not be one he was inspecting. Noticing something odd about it. So much potential with Freakshow, he could have ghosts overshadow other villains or just run a muck in gotham. Danny being controlled again and being saved. Just so much you can do with both sides. Danny having to fight off Batman's villains though he would have a bit easier of a time unless they got ghost tech, or something that's affective on ghost.. I rambled LOL <3<3<3 Too bad I'm only one person, I can't write all my ideas XD

#danny phantom #danny fenton #batfam #batfamily #gotham #danny phantom crossover #dc crossover #batman crossover

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eirian-houpe · 2 years

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Inheritance

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson

Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, AU

Summary: Seriousness and hijinks combine when Belle simply believes she has inherited an old cottage, and a house of gold, but all is not as innocent as it seems. Written for the November Monthly Rumbelling mood board.

Inheritance

It was a thing of beauty, truly almost breathtaking, and was completely hidden at the very edge of the property, where it bordered the woodland. It astounded Belle that nowhere, not in the deed, nor the surveyors report, nowhere at all was the building listed as being a part of the estate.

When she mentioned it to the grounds keeper, he sucked his teeth and told her she was better off leaving well alone; told her the building was dangerous, but standing there in front of what seemed, essentially, to be a greenhouse, she couldn’t see anything that she would have said made it so. It was in good repair, not a single pane of glass broken. The silver birch wood that made the steps and the front porch, if it could be called such, appeared almost to have been preserved, as if frozen in time, and from within, she could see the faint glow of golden, solar powered lights coming on just as dusk fell, which was what had drawn her to the building last evening; when she had first moved into the property left to her by a relative of whom she had never heard.

The main cottage itself, although beautiful, paled by comparison. It was old though, easily two hundred years old, perhaps even three… more. The stones that made up the large cottage were worn and weathered, in places smooth to the touch. For instance, where she paused on the stoop to take one more look back at the twinkling lights through the overgrowth in the back yard with her hand resting against the stone of the open back door, beneath her hand the stone was almost silk to the touch. She imagined generations of women stopping on the same spot, looking back just the same. Why women she had no idea, but each time she thought on it, it was always a woman peering back through the gathering gloom toward those flickering lights.

As she crossed the threshold and the imagined image faded, she felt the same tingling awareness of the inside wash over her, as though she had somehow stepped through some kind of electrical field that set all of her hair on end. She rubbed both her arms as she closed the door, moved carefully across the uneven slabs of the kitchen floor and into the main room of the cottage, where for the moment she was living while the renovation of the rest of the house were taking place.

It was primitive; more like camping than actually living there. There was no power to the cottage, so she had candles and a lantern for light, and the open fireplace for warmth and for whatever cooking she couldn’t perform on her small camping stove.

The contractor had told her it would probably take months to finish work on the cottage, but she didn’t mind. One room at a time, she had told him, so before she had moved in, he and his firm had made the main room safe, sound, and almost cozy; a little island haven from the conditions around her.

With a sigh, she pulled off her boots, and placed them onto the opened pages of the newspaper just inside the living room door. She closed it behind her, shutting out the draft, and the cooler air that was beginning to seep in, then she followed the path of area rugs until she could lower herself to the folding cot which sat beside the hearth, and served as both sofa and bed with a sigh.

It had been a long day spent outside, trying to tame what passed for a garden while the contractors worked on replacing the roof in the places where age had, unlike Cleopatra, ‘withered [it].’ Her hands and her fingers ached from tugging on vines and ivy, tugging it from the outside of the house so that any repairs that needed to be made on the stone itself could be dealt with. She had more than a few broken fingernails, and the thought of that drew her to the graze on the her left hand.

Cutting down the vine was not enough. If she didn’t at least try to dig out the roots, it would just grow back again, and she would be right back at square one. She tugged the end of the vine through the bushes, like a spelunker following a line back to the entrance of the cave. All the way back to the packed dirt she tugged and pulled, until eventually she found where the plant and the ground married, and there she started digging. First she dug around it, loosely in a circle, and then as the trench she dug grew deeper, she took the soil from closer in around the vine. It was there that her trowel struck something hard in the ground, drawing the sound like a bell and sending it peeling out into the crisp afternoon air. Frowning, she stopped and - like an archaeologist now - began scraping at the dirt around the area where she had made her find.

A few moments later, she had uncovered what looked like a long, slender cairn-in-miniature buried in the space beside her home.

“What on Earth…?”

For another several minutes, she wriggled at the vine and fought with its remaining roots to free it from around where she could now see the stones that made up her curious find, and tossed it aside once it was free. Turning the trowel upside down, she rapped on the stones with the handle, and was rewarded with a hollow ringing sound. Whatever was buried there, was buried in a little chamber all of its own.

Captured by the excitement of it all, she immediately set to work trying to prize the stones apart, ignoring the cuts and scrapes she suffered along the way until a small sliver of flint embedded in one of the stones, yet to be released, all but skinned the first knuckle on her ring finger.

She tugged at the band-aid she’d wrapped around her finger once she’d cleaned the injury. It was grubby and needed changing anyway, then she cast her gaze over the offending article that had been the cause of it as she dug around in her bag for her first aid kit.

Inside the buried cairn she’d found a metal box. The box was heavy, and the metal, though rusted in places, seemed to be holding its own against the corruption of however long it had been buried in the ground. She’d tried, earlier, to open it - as soon as she’d gotten it out of the ground, as a matter of fact, but it seemed to be locked, and she didn’t have the key. Thus she had decided to wait until later, after the builders were gone, so that she could use one of their heavy tools to break open the lock.

Quickly, she went in search of what she would need, brought it back to the room - where she suddenly reminded herself she needed to light the fire she had laid that morning - set the box on its side on the hearth, and punched her way through the lock with the heavy hammer, and the sturdy Phillips screwdriver.

The light was waning, and it seemed even darker still when she slowly opened the box, so she had to pause in her endeavor to satisfy her curiosity, and light the fire and the lantern, and some of the candles until she had expelled enough of the darkness to allow her to see.

Taking a careful hold of one of the candles, she brought it over to where the box sat, almost calling for her, and - she realized - since she had opened it, there was an almost whisper weaving in and out of the spaces around her. She felt herself drawn to it; listening to it to try and make out what was being said.

Then she shook her head, considering herself a fool that was talking herself into a truly disturbing dream and if she wasn’t careful she would surely have one.

Bringing one of the candles back to the cot, she balanced it carefully on the crate that was her nightstand, before she shifted the box closer, tugging it into her lap - heedless of the dirt still clinging to the bottom of it despite her attempts to clean it - to peer inside.

The inside of the box seemed to be lined with some kind of crystal, it was white and in places some of it had crumbled a little to accumulate in the corners. She rubbed a some of it between her fingers and then sniffed it, inhaling some of the dust to leave a familiar, if surprising, taste in her mouth.

“Salt?” she said aloud, wondering who in their right mind would want to line a metal box like that with salt. She was more curious, however about whatever it was that had been set into the salt lined box, and reached - a little gingerly - for the dark shape sitting in the center of the white cradle.

No sooner had her fingers touched the object than she snatched back her hand. She had no idea what she had been expecting, but the brush of soft, silken cloth against her fingertips was not it, and the difference made her profoundly uncomfortable, so much so that it took her another several minutes to want to reach out again. This time, expecting the softness of the fabric, for such it was, she was not averse to picking up the wrapped object out of the box and setting the box aside.

She frowned then. Now that she could see it, she could tell that the fabric around the harder object within was silk, and wondered what on earth could be so precious that it must be protected in such an expensive fabric, and feeling that she must have stumbled upon a rare kind of treasure, she impulsively and quickly unfolded the silk from around the object.

The candles and the lantern guttered and from the chimney came a mournful wail as the wind blew what had become a healthy blaze almost horizontal. Then, from the door behind her came three, measured thumps, each evenly spaced, that seemed to send the fire back into its place in the hearth.

Belle’s heart lurched and then began to beat so hard she was almost deafened by it, and leaped to her feet as though to escape.

“Oh, for goodness sake, girl,” she told herself a moment later and with some irritation. “It’s just the wind!”

As though to prove it to herself she picked up the candle, walked to the door to the kitchen, and pulled it open, peering into the darkness on the other side. Seeing nothing, she took a tentative step into the kitchen, mindful of the broken floor beneath her feet, and inched toward the back door that led outside.

The sudden movement of shadow, and another almighty crash, and Belle screamed, a short, almost apologetic scream, but instead of running back into the inner room and barring the door, as she knew any sane person would, Belle stepped forward and with a choke hold on the candlestick in one hand, she raised the object from the box, which she still held, as though it were a cosh, and said as firmly as she could, “Whoever you are, you don’t scare me!” She thought she didn’t sound at all convincing and so added for good measure, “You don’t! Now… this is my home, and I won’t have some… some… country bumpkin trying to drive me out of it, so… stop playing games and go back where you belong!”

Immediately, as though at her behest, the wind that had been blowing freely into the kitchen died away, and her candle flame became steady, illuminating a path to the outside door that swung lazily back and forth on its hinges, and she could clearly see that the latch had broken.

“Damn!” she said, as much to steady her nerves as for any other reason. Then she set down the candle, and the strange object she had taken from the hidden box, crossed the room and struggled to pull a heavy packing crate across the door to keep it closed. “There,” she said with some satisfaction as she straightened herself up, and turned to head back into the main, and, she hoped, cosy room.

But as soon as she stepped into the better lit, and certainly warmer room, she let out another yelp.

There, lounging on her bed was the most peculiar creature. More goblin-like than man with scaled skin that almost twinkled in the lantern light, and long, unruly hair. His eyes, in the semi-darkness, shone like a cat’s, and he was dressed all in leather that creaked slightly as he moved.

“Well,” he said, sitting up a little more, and tossing the notebook he had been reading from onto the nearby crate. Her notebook, she realized. “That was a bit of a let down.”

She frowned, the words holding an uncomfortable familiarity for no reason she could fathom.

“Who are you?” she demanded, beginning the attempt to gather her scattered wits. “What are you doing here?”

As she spoke she brandished the object from the box as though it were a club to batter him with.

“No, never mind that,” she snapped after a moment. “I don’t know what kind of game you and your friends are playing, but I don’t have time for it, and it’s far from Halloween so whatever the deal with the costume…”

Once more she brandished the object still in her hand between the two of them as though she were going to hit him with it, and this time he unfolded from the cot, with a strange kind of grace and took a step toward her.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice a sing song, impish kind of voice, and reached toward the resin covered thing she held in her hand.

“Oh no you don’t!” she snapped, then added, “Get. Out—”

“No, no, no, no, no,” he clicked with his tongue, but she wasn’t for stopping.

“—Of my house!”

“Oh, this is just,” a veil of purple smoke began to wreath him at the flick of his wrist, and the voice faced into the distance as he finished, “marvelous.”

Belle held her breath for a moment, and then set down the candle and snatched up the lantern, which gave out slightly stronger light, and immediately searched the entire room - not that there was much to search behind - even while the purple mist cleared, drifting up the chimney with the smoke from the fire.

“Where did you go?” she asked the empty air.

“Outside of course!” The voice came from behind her, muffled by the glass of the windows, but it made her jump all the same when she turned around to see the cat-like eyes staring back at her through the window.

“What? How?” she asked, but a prickle of awareness - a guess at the answer crept over her. “No, that’s not possible,” she said.

“As you wish, dearie,” he sang through the glazing. “I’ll be our here when you change your mind.”

And then, even as she peered out into the darkness, she could see nothing, and no one.

“I must be dreaming,” she said after a moment, but somehow she knew it wasn’t true, wasn’t true at all. She looked around the cottage too, everything else looking strangely wrong in that moment. “I fell asleep trying to make sense of this… thing,” and she tossed the offending object onto the cot where it landed beside it’s box near the pillow, “and now I’m dreaming goodness knows what.”

She knew it was a lie.

Not dreaming, her inner voice admonished, and for some reason, it sounded remarkably like the one that had spoken to her mockingly from the other side of the window.

She huffed loudly to herself, and decided that what she really needed to ground herself was to eat, so she fished around in her supplies and pulled out a can of hearty soup. She would have preferred something home made, but that would have to wait until kitchen was renovated, and she had her own, proper cooking range.

She was right.

Once she had eaten she felt a whole lot better, if a whole lot more tired, and so she had packed away her things, wrapping the strange object back up in the silk, and setting it back into the box before banking the fire, changing for bed, and drawing the cot a little nearer to the hearth to reap the benefit of the remaining warmth through the cold of the midnight hour and beyond.

She surprised herself and managed to sleep through until morning, and couldn’t remember any of her dreams, not at all, and certainly not any that contained the strange little imp she had caught lounging on her bed, and absolutely not any that involved the kindling of a needful warmth deep in her belly.

No. Not a bit of it.

She rose and dressed - not yet able to do more than wash in a basin, and as she ate breakfast, she decided that she was going to go and investigate the little glass house at the bottom of the garden.

Before she did, however, she had to decide what she was going to do with the strange object she had found, and which she still had no idea what it was. She could bury it again, but what was the point in that? She had gone to so much trouble to dig it up in the first place it seemed like a complete waste of time to put it back into the ground. She could take it to someone - though she had no idea to whom - and let them figure out what it was, or…

Or she could spend some time with it, peeling off the resin, investigating what was inside, and why it was such an object would have been buried. The adventurer in her liked that option by far the better.

She returned to the contractor’s toolkit, first replacing the tools she had borrowed to open the box, and next took out a sharp knife she saw there, bringing it back to her makeshift table, and between bites of cereal, and bagel with cream cheese, she began to peel away the resin from around the…

“Dagger,” she identified, almost incredulous as she uncovered enough of her mysterious prize to be able to identify its shape. “Who in their right mind buries a dagger in a box lined with salt beside their own stoop?”

“Who indeed, dearie?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and the knife she was working with slipped and cut quite deeply into the side of her hand. She yelped, and grabbed a tissue from a nearby box, dropping both the dagger and the box cutter onto the top of the crate and glared at him where he stood learning casually against the mantelpiece.

“I thought I told you to get out,” she snapped, uncovering her finger before putting it into her mouth, tasting the iron on her tongue as she tried to suck away the pain.

“You did,” he agreed, with a slight jaunt in his body as he turned to face her. “But you didn’t say for how long, so I’m back.”

She grasped her injured finger in the tissue again, trying to staunch the bleeding, demanding, “Who are you anyway?”

“That would be telling,” he told her earnestly.

“And why the ridiculous costume?”

“Ridiculous?” he questioned, and then again, rolling the R the second time, “Ridiculous? How rude!”

“Rude,” she said, getting up from her seat and approaching him as threateningly as she could with her one hand in the other, a finger wrapped into tissue against the bleeding, “is coming, uninvited, into someone’s home, and scaring them to their wits end!”

She resisted, though only slight, and it was more of a shiver, filled with thoughts of her nocturnal ramblings, than resistance as he gently closed the fingers of one hand around the wrist of her injured hand and tugged it away from the other.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, somewhat disarmed.

“No,” he agreed. “I didn’t.”

She followed his gaze to the side of her finger, where the cut still oozed blood, and as she watched, holding her breath the entire time, he passed the palm of his free hand just above her finger. A mauve glow emanated from the space between their hands, and she felt the tingling warmth of it as he passed his hand over the cut.

“There,” he said as he released her, and she took a step closer as he swayed slightly away. “Much better.”

Astounded, she examined her hand, not one sign of the cut remaining, not even a stain of blood where the cut had been.

“How did you…?”

“Magic, dearie,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he said the word. “How else?”

“Who are you?” she asked again. “And don’t say it would be telling.” Then she snatched up the dagger and asked, “And how is it that everything started being strange when I gook this thing out of the box?”

“My, my, my,” he admonished. “So many questions, and not even a by your leave.”

“And why should I?” she asked, “when you’re the one trespassing?”

“Oh, but am I?” he said cryptically, moving around her to then lean down and murmur against her neck, drawing another, deeper shiver from her as his breath ghosted over her skin, “Who is the one that went digging up what doesn’t belong to her?”

“Stop it!” she protested weakly.

“What?” He sounded serious.

“That!” she demanded, and suddenly turned to face him, only to find him seemingly rooted to the ground, and looking most uncomfortable with it, caught as though in mid stride. “Not funny,” she said.

“On that, we are agreed,” he said.

“I asked you questions,” she said, and went on to add, more than a little vexed, “And since you obviously have no intention of answering them—”

“Don’t…” he tried to interrupt, gesturing almost helplessly at the dagger she held in her hand, and now brandished, pointing at the kitchen door.

“—get out, right out,” she finished anyway, adding for good measure, “and stay out!”

“Really,” he sighed, and turning on his heel, walked quite briskly to the doorway to the kitchen, and then through the kitchen, to move the crate from the outside door. Then, he went out into the yard.

Belle blinked and looked out after him, her quick mind trying to put everything together. She soon came up with a very important question. “What the hell is going on?”

She set down the dagger and went back to her bag, to pull out the paperwork and see if there was anything she missed. She shook out the contents of the file that contained all the legal documents pertaining to the cottage.

Nothing out of the ordinary leaped out of the pages that she checked one by one, down to the fine print, and grumbled when she couldn’t find even the slightest clue that might lead her to the identity of the strange little intruder, nor to the dagger that had been hidden - buried - next to the cottage.

It wasn’t until, in frustration, she was about to throw the papers back into the folder, and the folder into the envelope in which they had been delivered that she found it; a small sliver of paper that fluttered, like a snowflake, down to the floor at her feet.

She bent down to retrieve it, and as she straightened up, her head swam, and the strangely written script with it. She watched as the letters wavered and changed, rearranging themselves before her eyes until she could, at last, read the words.

Yf thou relesen him fram his scrin, swa fyndeth se giedd uppan se tramet. folga to se hus of golde, ac thider geheiran se an, stan cald.

Belle blinked, and the symbols on the paper returned to their original form, unrecognizable as words in English at all.

Not knowing what else to do, she peered at the paper again, trying to see a pattern, trying to see if there was anything she could recognize, or remember from the words she had read when she could read it, which brought her to another thought - one she’d been trying to ignore since the first time the stranger had disappeared.

Magic.

The disappearance, he way the letters on the page had shifted and changed, the language - it all pointed to the one fact that was fast becoming inescapable. There was something entirely strange going on, and it all had to do with the buried dagger.

Returning to the crate where she had left the box cutter, she sat down on the bed and began to carefully slice and peel at the resin covering the handle, the hilt and finally the blade. It wasn’t clean by any stretch of anyone’s imagination, but at least she could see the beautiful markings, and more importantly the name on the fluted blade.

Rumplestiltskin

She whispered the name to herself as she ran her fingers across the letters on the blade. A strange, but grand kind of name, like something out of a traditional tale or something of the like. She read the word again, speaking normally this time. Could it be some kind of - and she felt foolish even thinking it - magic word.

She tried a third time, then cried out a startled little cry of surprise when the purple smoke swirled in the middle of the room, but the man in the center was nebulous at best; nebulous and looking irritated.

“Well make your mind up,” he snapped, his voice nasal and high pitched. “In or out, I can’t be both, dearie.”

“I told you to stay out,” she said.

“Yes,” he sang, more than a little mocking, “and then ye called me in.”

She looked between him and the name on the dagger and back again, before she said. “Your name is Rumplestiltskin.”

“Yes,” he sang again, just the same as the first time. “I know that.”

“Then I…”

She trailed off and pointed behind her toward the door, and then looked back at him.

“Yes,” he said a third time. “For goodness sake, will you make a decision. It’s terribly draughty with all this,” and he gestured at the purple smoke wreathing his semi faded form, “magic swirling around inside.”

“Magic,” she said, and he gestured again at the seething mass, gathering speed in its movement.

“Whenever you’re ready!” he prompted.

“What… oh… um…” she stood straighter and announced, “Rumplestlitskin, you may enter.”

Almost at once the smoke coalesced and he stood there, brushing off his leather coat as if it were filthy with dust.

“A bit formal,” he wrinkled his nose, “but it works all the same. So… wha’d’you want?”

To um… to understand,” she answered, “what’s going on.”

He clucked his tongue and began pacing back and forth in front of her, as though preparing to give some kind of lecture. “Well, you see,” he started after a moment.

“No,” she said, “Not from the beginning, just…” she took a breath, and then let it out and asked, “Why was this dagger buried in my garden? Who put it there, and why, when I dug it up, did you suddenly appear and everything got—?”

“Real?” he offered.

“I was going to say ‘weird’,” she corrected, drawing another frown from his face.

“The Dark One Dagger was buried in you—”

“Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “Dark one?”

“Yes, Dark One,” he answered. “Namely me, and it was buried out there because—”

“Are you dangerous?” she asked.

“What?”

“Because you’re the Dark One. Are you dangerous and is that why the dagger was buried in the yard?”

“Do you want to hear the story,” he grumbled, “or are you going to keep interrupting?”

“Sorry,” she said, and she moved to sit down and set the dagger on the packing crate, watching as he eyed it almost warily, or perhaps hungrily. She couldn’t tell which because his eyes were so strange to her. “Go on.”

“Out there… buried, because they…” she opened her mouth to ask who they were, but he raised a finger, and wagged it from side to side. “Ah ah ah!” he admonished. “They buried it because they thought it was a way to keep me… trapped.”

“But why did they want to trap you,” Belle interrupted, and the little man rolled his eyes, although this time, instead of getting irritated with her interruption, he said, “A very good question, dearie. I never did anything wrong,” he sighed, and then quite obviously correcting himself said, “Actually, I lie… and to answer your earlier question, Yes. I am. Very.”

Belle stared at him for a very long time, and he stared right back. She prickled all over under his scrutiny and could almost feel him trying to read her mind, neither of them willing to be the first one to break eye contact until with a flourish of his hand he burst, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“All right!” he danced the words out of his mouth, “To them! I’m dangerous to them, and why shouldn’t I be? They obfuscate their actions with pretty words, and all the while they are hurting others, promising them things they want, empty promises because they can’t do what they say.” There was a good deal of irritation in his words. “Their interference tears families apart, and they have the nerve to call me evil! To say that I cause suffering and pain. To banish me and…”

He continued with his rant, on and on a litany of protest against lies and injustice, and she tuned out his words, running through her mind all that she had ‘suffered’ at his hands. But for a little fright, that had made her cut herself… she could think of very little, and he had healed that injury. All bark, and no bite, she thought. At least for me.

That thought led her to another. If that was the truth of him, then what about those that had trapped him here, and whose words she had read on the paper tucked in with her papers, and how was it that the dagger she had found seemed to be the key to controlling him.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she interrupted his tirade, mid flow, and he broke off abruptly, his pacing also coming to a halt. He turned to her.

“Yes?” he asked.

“What about this?” she said as she held out the paper to him. He stepped closer and peered at it.

“I can’t read that?” he said with distaste.

“Why not?” she frowned and peered at it again herself, wondering if it had faded from the paper, or in some other way had been rendered illegible. “It’s magic, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes,” he hedged, “but… it’s a type of magic I can’t read. It doesn’t mix well with mine.”

“Oh, I see.” She didn’t.

“Well?” he asked after another moment. “What does it say? Just because I can’t read it, doesn’t mean I can’t help you make sense of it…”

“But I only read it once,” she said. “When I first picked it up, and I can’t reme—”

He reached out, stepping closer as she shied a little away, and then stilled as he gave one quick tap on her forehead with his clawed finger. She felt her whole body go slack as her eyes unfocused, and only kept to her feet because she reached out and clasped his shoulder and felt his arms go around her, rekindling that strange feeling of…

“Yf thou relesen him fram his scrin, swa fyndeth se giedd uppan se tramet. folga to se hus of golde, ac thider geheiran se an, stan cald.”

��She blushed as she realized she was still in his arms, but more so when she admitted that she hadn’t moved away, and nor had he, in his turn, released her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, knowing she would have likely fallen if he had not held her up. “Thank you.”

“It’s… no matter,” he answered awkwardly, and straightened his leather vest as he stepped back.

“I’d better…” she looked around for her notebook, “write it down, before I forget.”

“No need,” he told her, and she found herself troubled by another strange feeling of deja vu. “I’ll remember it.”

“But what does it mean?” she asked, “I don’t understand a word of it… nor how I could read it in the first place.”

“Well as you pointed out,” he said with that wrinkle in his nose that she found strangely endearing. “It is magic.” He waved his hand at the paper then as he added, “As for that… a bit before your time, I expect.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” she accused softly.

“And famous for it,” he teased. Then more seriously added, “What I mean is… that language is hundreds of year old, so… unless you’re older than you look it’s no surprise you don’t understand.”

“But you do?”

“Oh, yes,” he said.

“And will you tell me?” she felt as though she were pulling thorns from cactus one by one.

He tilted his head to one side. “For a price,” he said.

“What would you have of me?” she said without hesitation, eager to know the meaning of the words, no matter the consequences.

“Your… help,” he said slowly, and a warning danced along her spine that he meant another word entirely than ‘help.’

“And if I don’t agree to your price?” she demanded.

He shrugged, and then turned full circle with his arms outstretched, “Well, then you’re stuck with me.” As if to prove his point he went to sit down again on her cot, and put his booted feet up onto one of the crates she was using as a table.

Strangely though, that didn’t at all seem to be much of a hardship.

“All right,” she said, and slapped the side of his feet until he took them from the crate, “I’ll help you.”

He leaped to his feet, shivering with apparent delight, and with a look of glee on his face, giggled, “Deal.”

Another shiver caught her in awareness of ‘before’, but at his animated reaction to her agreement, she couldn’t help but giggle in return. She sobered quickly and asked, “So what does it say?”

“If you released him from his cage, so find the words upon the page. Follow to the house of gold and there obey the one, stone cold.” He chanted the words in a strange, sing song voice, then added, “Stupid fairy magic! Why does it always have to rhyme?”

She frowned in thought, and then the sudden image of her little glass house came to mind. When all the lights came on the glow from inside of there could be considered to look like gold. The rest of it made little sense though.

“Well you certainly did that,” he said, making a grand gesture of exclamation, his finger pointing to the ceiling as he went on, “There I was, minding my own business in a dank, dark cell…” he trailed of and then interrupting himself added, “You know, you’d expect people like the Charmings to have far cleaner dungeons.”

“You were locked up?”

“Of course I was locked up!” he turned to her then, and said, “And you released me…”

“…when I found the box with the dagger inside,” she finished his sentence. “But then… if they locked you up, and I released you, whatever they want me to do next is not likely to be a benefit to you, is it?”

“I imagine not,” he agreed.

“So what happens if I just… don’t do as the paper says? You’re released, so you could just go on your way—”

“Ah… you see… I…”

“There’s more to this story, isn’t there?” Belle surmised, and moving to the cot, sat down and crossed her legs. “I think you had better tell me everything.”

“Everything?” he echoed.

“Everything. From the very beginning.”

With a sigh, and another wave of his hand, he sat himself down on a large wooden box he conjured out of nowhere, sitting cross legged, just a little above the level of Belle’s head.

The telling of his tale took many hours and was filled with interruptions as Belle asked questions and made comments such as, “She said that?” and “How could she do that?” and “But you were only trying to save your son.” As far as she could tell it was a true accounting of everything that had led up to the point at which they found themselves. He wasn’t entirely innocent, she could see that, but he was far from a monster and farther still from ‘evil’ as he’d said the nebulous ‘they’ - though she assumed they were the fairies whose magic he had denigrated when he translated the words to her - had painted him. If anything, the one that had by far caused the greater harm, at least to his family, was the one he’d called “Reul Ghorm” which he alternatively called a gnat, and whom Belle found herself wanting to give a piece of her mind for pitting a child against his father.

“So, because of all of this, you lost him,” Belle restated her understanding of what had happened when Baelfire fell through the portal without his father.

“Yes,” he said simply, softly and mournful. “I was too much of a coward to follow him there and so he’s lost to me.”

The tone of his voice, the look on his face; in his eyes, twisted a knot in her heart. She wasn’t a mother - though she hoped to be one day - but she couldn’t imagine how it felt to lose a child.

One thing occurred to her then, however, and she frowned in consternation before she said, “You told me that your son was trying to take you both to a world without magic, because your magic wouldn’t work there. Your magic works here, and this is a world without magic.”

He shook his head. “My magic works here because the dagger is here,” he said. “It was… summoned here, by your ancestor, who tied it to the inherent power of this land, and then she it would seem, buried it in a salt line box… I presume at the behest of that miserable fairy. I can imagine it came as quite a shock to them, to find I might have found… a loophole to their imprisonment in a magic-leeching cage.”

Belle sat, considering everything for quite some time, before she said, “I think - perhaps - it’s time you and I paid a visit to the ‘House of Gold.’

When they left the cottage, dusk had fallen so by the time they reached the glass house at the property’s edge, it truly was a house of gold they were walking toward.

Belle found, surprisingly, that she had the heavy weight of trepidation in her belly as she mounted the steps up to the white porch, and reached for the handle to the glass house. The words of the grounds keeper rang in her ears.

”You’d be better off leaving well alone, miss,” he said.

She shook her head and reached for the handle, but as her fingers grasped the smoothness of the ivory sheath of it, her little imp caught hold of her arm and whispered harshly, “Wait!”

“What?” she hissed back.

“There’s magic here,” he said. “I can feel it.”

“Fairy magic?” she asked and he shook his head.

“Like the magic of my cell,” he said.

“Then I’ll be careful,” she said and pulled open the door, turning back to him as she added, “Maybe you should wait out here… in case—”

Dark One…

The voice sent a knife edge of ice trailing down Belle’s spine. She wasn’t one easily spooked, but the events of the last few days had surely taken their toll.

…I see you have enslaved another with your trickery.

Belle bristled, the mocking tone and the implication that she wasn’t exactly where she was of her own free will irritated her beyond reason.

“No one decides my fate but me!” she called out in response. “I haven’t been tricked, or forced to do anything, especially not by Rumplestiltskin. He’s been nothing but honest, and he’s told me everything.”

Oh, dear girl…

“I’m not a child!” As she argued, the air around her began to darken as though clouds were gathering, and on her skin she could feel the prickle of electricity.

…how little you understand.

“I understand enough,” she said, took a step forward. “Enough to know a lie when I hear one, and this is a lie. All of it. You did this, not him.”

She turned around to try and point at Rumplestiltskin, but behind her, where the doorway had been was now a featureless wall of gray, and the doorway looked as though it had been constructed of metal, not of white wood and glass.

She turned back in the direction from which the voice had come and accused softly, “See. Another lie!”

Turning again to gesture back at the grayness behind her, she gasped as the beautiful glass and wood was back, with the dark shape of Rumplestiltskin peering at her from outside.

There was something she had to remember. Something she was doing, she was sure of it, but the confusion of everything pushed it from her mind, so she pushed forward, feeling loss and sadness… fear sweep over her the further into the glass house she went.

All you had to do was forget…

The light was all wrong, coming as if from a single source behind her, not from above, nor golden any more as it should have been.

…all you ever had to do was forget. I’m sparing you a lifetime of pain and misery.

The voice had resolved to something familiar. Familiar and hated. Why? She was certain she’d never heard it before.

“No,” Belle whispered, then louder, the words coming from somewhere deeper inside of her than she could reach. “I’ll fight for him. I’ll never stop fighting for him.”

All you had to do was…

Belle’s eyes flew open. She hadn’t even remembered closing them. She looked down at herself, at her disheveled state, her tangled hair, broken fingernails. Digging in the garden will do that.

The walls, when she looked up were featureless blocks of gray again, and the doorway, now open, was filled with the presence of a tall man, all in white. In his hand he held a shabby pink jacket. The other extended toward where she lay on a hard, vinyl covered slab, little better than she’d had to sleep on in Regina’s dungeon.

Wait! Dungeon… Regina…?

She began to wonder if the voice she’d heard had cast some kind of spell over her. Hadn’t Rumplestiltskin said he’d felt magic here? She blinked, a long, slow blink. Willing it all to go away, but when she opened her eyes it was all still there. All the same only this time it felt right. It felt real.

“Come with me,” the man said. His voice was a command, and held the hard edge of anger, but his touch, when she took his hand, was gentle. The hand of a father.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you doing this?” Where am I? What’s going on? A hundred hundred questions went through her mind. Where was the voice from the glass house? Where was the wall plaque she had so briefly seen… a young woman, reaching out from the stone.

ac thider geheiran se an, stan cald.

She was cold. She hadn’t realized until the warm of his hands settled on her upper arms as he leaned down to look at her in earnest and told her his name, as though it should mean something to her. Should I, then, obey myself?

She looked up at him in raw confusion, then just as earnestly he said, “And I need your help to do something that I can’t.” She frowned. “There’s a man, his name is Mister Gold…”

…House of Gold…

Everything began to fall into place.

“Find him. All you have to do is tell him where you’ve been…”

All you had to do was forget.

“…and that Regina locked you up.”

That name again. Regina. It made her colder still just to think the name and for a moment the confusion began to overwhelm her. She shook her head.

“What?” she said, the word coming out like it was conjured of her uncertainty.

“It’s very important. Mister Gold’s gonna protect you,” he said, his voice alive with urgency. “But you have to tell him that Regina locked you up.” He nodded then, as did she, finding strength in his words, in the feeling of rightness of it all. “He’s gonna know what to do. You understand?”

She nodded again, and more confident this time, repeated his instructions, not knowing how she knew the truth, but knowing that the truth was she could trust this man’s words - and after, she knew she could trust Mister Gold.

With a final nod, she took the jacket that the stranger - no, not a stranger, she knew his name, after all - had given to her and slipped it on over her drab hospital clothes; followed him quietly out of the basement, past the bustle and out of the building. He pointed for her, to show her the way to go, then melted away into the shadows as though he had never been there.

She knew he had, and she also knew that now, she was free, but…

She couldn’t help but wonder what had become of her Rumplestiltskin.

#rumbelle #fluff #humor #a monthly rumbelling november 2021 #a monthly rumbelling

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elwenyere · 3 years

Text

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas

I finally finished my first AU (and it was very hard).

Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Words: 9.3k

Tags: X-Files AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Spookiness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Christmas, But Also Ghosts

Summary: When the higher-ups assigned Special Agent Steve Rogers to the X-Files, they were hoping the former Army Captain would rein in his new partner — because as God and Assistant Director Fury knew, Tony Stark had made enough trouble for his superiors on his own. They probably didn't expect that just two years into their partnership, Steve would be following Tony into a haunted house on Christmas Eve.It's a holiday fic; it's an X-Files AU; it's a combination holiday fic/X-Files AU.

Read it on AO3

The house that locals called the “Red Manor” rarely had visitors these days. Once a favorite stopping point for romantically inclined tourists and bored teenagers, the Manor now risked being swallowed up by the woods around it. Most of the east wing was covered in spindly legs of ivy, their tendrils stretching out toward the mossy shingles and cobwebbed balustrades that marked the slow creep of overgrowth across the remaining traces of human habitation. The windows of the house were dark – on this night as they had been every night since county officials condemned the property ten years earlier. Other than the odd rustling in the leaves, the only sounds that could be heard for miles around were the muffled notes of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” which drifted aimlessly from the car parked in the front drive.

If the contrast between the song and the scene struck the lone occupant of the car as ominous, his face didn’t show it. Not that anyone had ever accused Special Agent Tony Stark of having the stoic demeanor typical for a man in his line of work: indeed, most of the critical notes in his FBI records were variations on the theme of “stunning lack of professional decorum.” But at the moment Tony’s short bursts of energy were focused almost exclusively on a small flip phone and a bag of dried blueberries. Each glance down at the phone was followed by a quick shot of blueberries or a rapid beating of fingers across the bottom of the steering wheel – the cycle proceeding according to some internal rhythm incompatible with the tempo of holiday radio.

Tony’s latest round of tapping stilled suddenly as a pair of headlights loomed down the road. Fog scattered the approaching high beams into a thick gray haze, but Tony made no effort to peer through it in order to identify the man pulling up beside him. Special Agent Steve Rogers drove one of noisiest used cars at the Bureau, and he never returned Tony’s texts while he was on the road.

“I was starting to think I’d been stood up,” Tony greeted his partner as they rolled down their windows.

“You wouldn’t believe the check-out lines at Macy’s,” Steve said. “If I had to hear one more angel sweetly singing over the plains, I was going to start taking hostages.”

He narrowed his eyes at the decrepit house in front of them.

“What are we doing here anyway?”

“Stakeout,” Tony grinned.

“On Christmas Eve,” Steve pointed out.

“It’s an important date,” Tony observed.

“No kidding,” Steve said dryly.

“Important to the stakeout,” Tony continued. “Come on over here, Agent Smartass, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

#stony #stevetony #stony fic #stony fanfiction #x-files au #holiday fic #but also ghosts #writing this almost broke me #thank you to everyone who encouraged me to keep going!

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1-800-roflmao · 3 years

Note

I sleep on the floor... Sometimes. Bela always screams at me after, not that I care what that angry gremlin thinks. Trust me, it's hard for ME to deal with two voices with such contrasting personalities all day. -Briar (Totally read my Overgrowth Ivy AU stuff if you're confused. -H)

#oc asks

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dandelion-san · 7 years

Text

never let me go

series: yuri on ice pairings: Victor/Yuuri tags: romance, fluff, alternate universe notes: this might be the sappiest thing I’ve written. Ever. Anyways, Victor lives in some unnamed coastal town in the US, somewhere in New England probably. There’s another story in this universe I’ve dubbed the Yuri Incident, mostly because I had two ideas for a mermaid!au, one which was this, and the other a whacky story about Yuri’s summer vacation when he discovers his cousin Victor is dating a fish, but the local coal plant has been dumping waste into the ocean (causing Yuuri to get extremely ill), so Yuri goes on a hare-brained plot to bring it down.

summary: Victor’s boyfriend might have a tail instead of legs, but they make it work.

read on ao3

At least once every month, Victor takes his softest, largest quilt and drives during the latest of hours to a secret cove hidden by moss and old overgrowth.

It didn’t used to be so secret – back before all the tourists noticed the small coastal town, it used to be known as Lover’s Nook. Someone had even laid out stones for a path, where it was worn smooth. Then the tourists started to come, boosting their economy and letting the spot fade away from memory in the excitement that followed. Now there is a fallen tree in the way, where moss and ivy hangs from the branches and obscures the stone path.

There are names, initials, and little messages that are carved into the trees as you walk down it. Inside the cove on the rock itself are years of love letters.

Victor has once taken a sharp rock, drawing a heart and wrote: VICTOR + YUURI. It was so cliché, so cheesy and he’d smiled giddily the entire time. Yuuri loved it too; he traced the lines with his precious fingers and smiled so pretty. Victor wants to see that expression on his face forever.

Tonight, Victor parks his car by the road as he always does and walks the rest of the way there, using his phone’s flashlight so he can see through the dark of the woods. He steps carefully over the branches, brushing green out of his way, and onto smooth stone. The path of love, as he likes to call it.

When he finally makes it down into the cove, he sits by the water with the quilt in his lap and waits for Yuuri.

Yuuri’s tail is showy with varying shades of blue that freckles with tiny pale spots. His fins veil-like as it trails, fine as lace. It used to make him self-conscious – such a flirty thing – and during performances he wouldn’t know what to do with it. But, Victor once caressed his hand down the side of his tail and murmured that it looked as if someone had painted the galaxy onto it. The memory makes him smile now, a dark thrill he takes to his dance which proudly shows in seductive flares.

Victor is always careful when he wraps Yuuri up in the old quilt. He kisses skin and scales, tucking every little bit of tail inside the blanket with such gentleness that it makes Yuuri just a little flustered. He knows Victor is scared of tearing the delicate membranes of his fins, which is such a cute fear, honestly. Yuuri’s already ripped them so many times on reefs and from plastic in the ocean so it’s not a new thing for him. Fins heal quickly. But the way Victor furrows his brows in concentration and worry is so sweet.

Victor inspects him one last time to make sure nothing is sticking out. Then, he puts his arms under Yuuri’s arms and tail, lifting him. Yuuri delights in this show of strength and Victor shows it off, even as his muscles tire and his face turns red with exertion under his weight as he walks them up the path.

“My dearest fisherman,” Yuuri sings the whole time with a pat to his cheek. “How far will he go when his arms shakes me so?”

“This fisherman would carry you across mountains,” Victor manages to wheeze out and Yuuri laughs.

He tells him, “You dropped me the first time.”

“And I kissed you better!” Victor smooches his nose. “Just like this. And this.” A wet smack to the neck and another to the blanket-covered shoulder. Yuuri shrieks through his laughter.

“Stop! You’ll drop me again!”

“This fisherman has the strength of a hundred – no, a thousand men. I will never drop you.” Victor adjusts his grip when they get to the fallen tree, maneuvering carefully through the branches even as he teases Yuuri.

Somehow, they make it to his car with no incident.

There are stacks of books and even more Internet bookmarks on ocean mythology at Victor’s house. He’s read so many, but his attention always turns to the old Hans Christian Anderson tale of The Little Mermaid. The story bothers him on so many levels, and he reads it to Yuuri just to complain.

“He just treats her like a pet,” he says. He’s sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch, facing the inflatable kiddie pool that’s set up for Yuuri. It’s too small to accommodate all of his tail so it drapes over one side where the fin trails out. “And how could he not notice the amount of pain she’s in when she’s dancing? Then this bastard goes and falls in love with some other woman.” He’s so offended every time he reads it.

“He was in love with the princess from the start,” Yuuri reminds him with small amusement. “They loved each other and the Mermaid saw it and let it go.” He studies Victor for a moment then asks, “Why does it make you so sad?”

Victor crawls forward to the plastic pool. He cups Yuuri’s face. “If I were the prince, I would drape you in jewels and kiss your feet. I’d carry you so your feet wouldn’t have to touch the ground. I would show you off and everybody would know how gorgeous you are.”

“My fisherman prince,” Yuuri says dryly, but he’s smiling. Victor traces the contours of his face almost absent-mindedly with his thumb, and commits this moment to memory. The way the morning sun lights up the flecks of red in his irises and how it makes the water sparkle around him. Yuuri always shines, but like this, he looks so soft and warm and inviting.

“How can he think of anything else?” Victor says softly. He never wants Yuuri to feel forced to change himself for him.

Yuuri leans forward and nuzzles into his hand. “You’re projecting.”

“Maybe just a little.” Victor closes the final distance and breathes him in.

After the first time, Makkachin learns not to jump into Yuuri’s pool, but she still tries to get as close to him as possible. She’s always confused by his tail and likes to bark at it. But she’s smart enough to realize that it’s a part of his anatomy so doesn’t bite.

She keeps him company on the days Victor is at work, bringing him toys and affection. She brings her leash once and is so despondent about not being able to go on a walk that she just collapses onto the floor with a low whine. Yuuri feels terrible about it and wonders if he should bargain for legs, just for her.

But the old girl gets up, and goes to the windows to bark at squirrels. Yuuri loves her immensely.

When Victor comes back, he has a plastic bag of something delicious. “Honey, I’m home,” he sing-songs. Makkachin howls with excitement, rushing him, and her tail is wagging so fast that it’s a blur. Yuuri snorts with laughter and admires Victor in his suit.

“Welcome home,” he sings back. Victor leans down to peck him on the lips. “Mm. What did you get?” His stomach grumbles.

“Pad-Thai,” Victor says. “Noodles. I got yours with beef and shrimp. How was our girl?”

“Brave as always. She certainly taught those squirrels a lesson!”

Victor coos at Makkachin as she whines and rolls on the floor for him. “Such a good girl,” he tells her. “Who’s a good girl? You are, you are our good girl! Makka-Makka-Makkachin!” He gets her so excited that she barks and wriggles her butt.

But he sees the leash and freezes. He glances at Yuuri who sighs and waves his hand.

“I can handle being hungry for twenty more minutes,” he says. Victor nods, but he stares at him for a while. Yuuri tilts his head, curious. “What is it?” he finally asks when Victor doesn’t say anything.

“It’s just,” Victor starts and trails off.

“Just…?” Yuuri prompts. There’s an odd smile spreading across Victor’s face.

“It just occurred to me that I am a lucky man.”

It’s sentimental and adoring – Yuuri covers his face and squeaks out, “Just go walk her!” Victor laughs, kissing his hair before leaving. When he hears the door shut, Yuuri finally uncovers his face.

He’s smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt.

Yuuri is fascinated by humans dancing and Victor’s YouTube recommendations is now being overtaken by various dancing videos along with funny cats, Gordon Ramsey, figure-skating, and space documentaries. Yuuri has such eclectic taste.

If there’s one aspect of his anatomy that Victor doesn’t like, then it’s how he can’t personally take him dancing. Victor wishes he could twirl Yuuri around and dip him. He wants to engage in a passionate tango and other times, he dreams about slow dancing in the rain. Yuuri’s tail is long and heavy, and even if he picks him up, it’ll drag on the floor. So to compensate, Victor holds him in a bridal carry and spin him around or sway. He’s lighter without the added weight of the quilt so it’s easier, but his arms will scream at him after a while.

Still, it’s worth it to hear Yuuri’s melodic humming in his ears and feel his arms around his neck. His shirt is completely drenched with water at this point but he doesn’t care.

Victor manages to do a small dip sway and Yuuri sighs happily. “How do merpeople dance?” he asks.

“I’ll show you one day,” Yuuri answers.

He likes to take baths with Victor. After washing each other’s hairs and bodies, Victor will fill the tub with new water and fill it with bubbles. They manage to fit both of them in the cramped tub somehow with Yuuri laying against Victor’s chest in an embrace. Victor’s legs are splayed on either side of them awkwardly and Yuuri’s tail has to drape over the side, but they make it work and cuddle lazily.

“Did you know Yuri is famous at school now?” Victor murmurs into the crook of his neck. He’s referring to his younger cousin who met Yuuri a few months ago. It was an interesting time, not one that either of them thinks of too fondly for Yuuri had almost died from water pollution.

“Is he?” Yuuri yawns as he strokes Victor’s arms. Behind him, he can feel Victor nodding. He feels sleepy with content.

“His classmates figured out it was him who got arrested during the summer and now they think he’s in the Russian mafia. They’re more terrified than they ever have been.”

Yuuri laughs incredulously. Yuri is a good kid at heart, even if he is a little shit. He saved his life after all. Victor expresses his agreement with a deep kiss.

It always feels a little bittersweet when Victor wraps Yuuri back up in the blanket and drives back to the cove. He won’t be coming home to Yuuri everyday anymore, but he’ll come down to the sea or to the cove instead.

There is a small boat in the cove that Yuuri had found somewhere and stashed ever since. He slips back into the water with ease while Victor rolls up his sweats and wades out, pushing the boat further and further until he can climb in and let Yuuri take control of it.

Yuuri steers the boat out through a narrow opening and into the sea. Victor takes a deep breath, revels in the caress of the salty wind.

He’s deep out into the sea now, but he’s not worried. Even if Yuuri suddenly loses the boat, the local colony knows him. The human man that loves one of their own and more importantly, brings him back to the ocean. They like his cousin Yuri more of course, but Victor is still accepted and they will help him should he ever need it.

Beside the boat, Yuuri pops his head out of the water, eyes sparkling. He pulls his upper body to the side and touches his face.

“Hello, fisherman.” He’s being coy and Victor leans forward.

“My, what a lovely creature. Do you come here often?” He punctuates this with a wink, which makes Yuuri roll his eyes. He moves his hands down to Victor’s arms.

“Dance with me, Victor,” he sings and pulls him under. The water is cold and the salt burns his throat. A tingly kiss is pressed between his brows and Victor can open his eyes. Another kiss to his lips, chaste, but something warm passes into him and he can breathe.

Floating in front of him, Yuuri is smiling. “It only lasts for an hour, but it’s enough,” he says. His voice sounds strange under water. Eerie. Haunting. Melodic. Victor is reminded of the way Yuuri’s face warps sometimes, the way it goes alien when his eyes gets too sharp or his lips too full, or even the way his face becomes too beautiful and terrifying. It’s a reminder of his nature, but Victor will never avert his eyes.

In the water he can’t speak, so he nods instead. Yuuri’s eyes flash gold. “Watch,” he says. “Watch.”

And Victor does, as Yuuri dances around him. It’s subtle and seductive. It makes Victor breathless and he moves with him, feels the way Yuuri’s tail sensually brush against his legs. Close, intimate. Passionate, and then slow as Yuuri cradles his cheeks with both hands, looking right at him, and sways. His fins are spread out around them like lace, like ruffles on a dress, like a wedding veil, and the way it moves in the water is absolutely ethereal. Divine.

Gods, Victor never wants this to end.

Afterwards, Yuuri pulls himself and Victor into the boat and curls against him. They lay, staring at the wide, glittering sky above. Yuuri blushes at the memory of their dance and hopes no one tells Victor it was a rendition of another certain dance.

“The stars reflect your tail,” Victor says, still breathless. Yuuri wants to kiss him and so he does.

“Isn’t it the other way around,” he mumbles into his lips and he feels it curl. “You said someone painted the galaxy on me.”

“Clearly I was wrong,” Victor assures. He moves his hands to Yuuri’s hips and strokes there adoringly. “The galaxy was made because of you.”

Yuuri can’t even laugh. He rests his head on the other man’s chest, closing his eyes and listens to the sound of a beloved heart beating. He wishes Victor could stay all night. He’s happy Victor could trust him like this.

“That is so cheesy. Movie-worthy.”

“Is my darling blushing?” Victor sounds delighted and Yuuri nips him in warning. Victor’s chest rumbles when he laughs, and he moves his hand over Yuuri’s wet back.

Yuuri sighs, thinks of a pair of golden rings he’d found in a shipwreck. Next time, surely.

#mywriting #yuri on ice #victuuri #writing yoi

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totallyrhettro · 7 years

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The Lone Jedi, Chapter 3

Word Count: 2149 Rating: This chapter: G. Overall story: explicit Warnings: None Summary: Jedi Knight Rhett McLaughlin managed to escape the purge of the Emperor to become one of the last of his celibate order. After years of a solitary life, he finds himself with a former slave for a friend. Despite his efforts to maintain anonymity and the jedi code, he starts to realize that doing either is easier said than done. Notes: Star Wars AU; Events take place between episodes III and IV

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

*See the end of each chapter for additional notes on star wars terms*

Link POV

Link woke to an unfamiliar smell. It was bittersweet, with a soft undertone of citrus. It smelled wonderful and he found himself inhaling deeply before even opening his eyes. Then he remembered what had happened in the jungle. A rush of terror came over him and his eyes flew open as he started to sit up.

“Careful now,” said a voice. Seconds later Link realized that the advice was worth following. As he tried to sit up pain shot through his back and he stopped immediately. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Link turned towards the source of the voice. A very tall man with dirty blond hair was kneeling nearby. He wasn’t looking at Link, however. He was staring into a small pot set over a fire, stirring its contents slowly. It took the injured man a moment to recognize the stranger as the robed figure from the village. His long, brown robes were gone now, revealing light tan clothes and tall, dark boots. His face looked kind, but tired, with dark bags under his eyes. “Where am I?” Link asked, trying to stay in a somewhat lifted position. His body wanted to lie back down and sleep but his mind wanted answers. The stranger finally turned and faced him, but only for a moment. “We’re in the mountains. I thought you would be safe here while I tended to your wounds. You’re lucky to be alive, my friend.” He took a small, wooden cup and poured the pot’s contents into it. Then he carried it over and handed it to Link. “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” “What is it?” Link asked, taking it from him. “Herbal tea, My own recipe. It’s hot,” he added quickly, as Link went to take a sip. “Thank you.” He blew on the amber liquid before taking a cautionary taste. It was good. Unlike anything he’d ever had before. “You’re welcome. I’m Rhett, by the way. What’s your name?” “Link.” He gave a small smile, which the taller man returned before going back to the pot and putting out the fire. While Link slowly sipped his tea, he examined his new surroundings. It was a far cry from the luxurious rooms of the Hutt palace, but certainly much nicer than the cargo hold he was last in. Stone walls surrounded a large courtyard, many of which were crumbling, some merely lines in the grass. A granite pathway led from what was once an elegant archway, through the yard, all the way to a massive sloped building. The pathway was cracked with grass and weeds now poking through it everywhere.

Trees seemed littered about, some marked with stone rings while others grew randomly. They were small compared to the trees of the massive forest. Near the archway a huge statue of a person stood but it’s face had long been worn away by the elements and was unrecognizable as even man or woman. One of its arms was gone but the one that remained held aloft a sword of some kind. It looked familiar, like something out of legend, but Link couldn’t quite place it. Beyond that a road lead out of the yard, down and away, presumably down the mountain. As Link gazed out over where the road disappeared from view, he could see they were most definitely not in the woods any longer. Even from his low spot in the grass he could see the land fall away into nothing. Then, in the distance, he could just make out the green tops of the trees. “It’s so far away,” he noted aloud. He had never left the forest before. Though he had often seen the imposing might of the mountains, it was always from a great distance. He never dreamed he would ever be in them. “What is this place?” “My home,” Rhett answered, not looking up. “It’s nice and quiet here. I like the solitude.” “But these buildings…” Link started. Rhett looked at him now, his expression unreadable, and slightly waved his hand dismissively. “They’re not that interesting,” he stated. Link thought about that for a moment. A small part of him agreed, believing that these crumbling ruins were of no interest to anyone, but that just didn’t settle right with him. “But they are,” he insisted. Rhett raised one eyebrow, quizzically, looking slightly amused and impressed all at once. Link looked back at him, somewhat irked that this stranger was finding something about him funny. “What are they?” “You should rest now.” The tall man took his now empty pot in hand and stood up, stretching. “I’ll tell you about them another time.” Link started to argue, but Rhett continued and his voice seemed so kind. “I promise.” With a last, caring smile, he headed off into the mysterious building and was gone. Link very much wanted to get up and follow, if only to have his many questions answered, but he felt his energy was sapped just from that short conversation. Finishing off the delicious tea, he laid back down and let his eyelids fall closed. He drifted off to sleep listening to the chirping of songbirds and the gentle breeze blowing through the leaves above him.

He woke hours later, still alone. The sun was much lower in the sky; the leaves and branches of the tree above him no longer providing protection from its glaring rays. He blinked in the light before raising a hand to shield his eyes. It was his bandaged hand and it took him a second to realize that it didn’t hurt anymore. After a moment he decided to test his back by sitting up. His body moved slowly, still stiff, but the intense pain had subsided, replaced by a dull ache. He still felt a bit weak and quite light headed, but his curiosity was gnawing at him. After glancing around and not seeing his mysterious savior, Link stood up slowly. “Ah!” he exclaimed, as he got to his feet. Bandages matching the ones on his hand and torso that he hadn’t noticed before were wrapped around his feet. The weight of his body now bearing down on the soles of his feet sent spikes of pain through them and up his legs. He immediately leaned against the tree trunk to alleviate the pressure. After a few moments, the pain faded back to tolerable levels and he tired to walk on them again, this time being careful to walk as softly as possible. They still hurt, but he was determined to explore and learn more about this place and who this Rhett person was. He gingerly made his way towards the large building that he had seen the blond man enter, the only obvious entryway in sight. It was dark inside, with only a few small torches lining the walls, most of which were in much the same condition as the ones in the courtyard. Some, however were still intact. Intricately etched stone that once was brightly colored now faded to its original brown and grey. Sconces that held torches which had gone dead long ago were affixed on the walls and the few pillars that were left standing in a long hall. The left of the main hall had been fashioned into a stable with a messy straw bed beside a half-filled water trough. A leather saddle hung on a wooden hitching post made from a large tree branch, or possibly a small trunk. Link wondered where the kybuck this stable had obviously been made for was. He remembered seeing it earlier, but there was no sign of it now. The torches led him down the hall past various smaller doorways, each a plain archway leading into smaller rooms filled with various unmarked baskets and crates. He wondered what they contained, but past them all in favor of the far end of the building and the doorway which led back outside into what appeared to be a huge garden. Much of the garden was overgrown, covered with thick patches of plants he didn’t recognize, but one area, near the building he had just exited, was well groomed. The ground was tilled with care. Voluptuous fruits and vegetables grew among green vines and up wooden stakes placed just for them. A few potted plants were placed nearby as well, some on the ground while others were scattered on old wooden tables covered with dirt, plant parts and several gardening tools. A wide, cobblestone road ran between the garden and the building, and stretched off along the length of them both. It led left and right then turned around the corners of the wide open area. This inner courtyard was surrounded on all sides by tall buildings, very similar to the first; dark grey stone figures of varying heights and structural stability connected by a single brick wall that encompassed the entire complex. The sound of flowing waters brought Link’s attention away from his appraisal of the surroundings. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear it coming from ahead, beyond the gardens. Careful not to step on the tended plants, he walked across the soft earth and through a small opening in the overgrowth. On the other side of a tall, ivy-covered wooden fence that no longer kept out anything, was a smaller, enclosed area and a massive fountain. It was over four feet across and twice that tall, an off-white rectangular obelisk towering over the surrounding brush. Clear waters poured from a slit near its top and fell into a small pool at its base. In front of it, sitting on a curved bench made from matching materials, was the bearded figure, Rhett. He was facing away from Link, hunched over, completely ignoring the world around him. As the brunet approached, the other man turned around to look, and Link could see tan cloth in his hands. They were the same color as the clothes he was wearing. “You shouldn’t be wandering about,” the man said. “You could hurt yourself. Most of these ruins aren’t safe.” He placed the cloth on the bench beside him, a needle and thread on top, before standing to greet his visitor. “What are you doing?” “I uh, I was hemming some pants.” His tanned face blushed slightly. “The sun can be brutal in the daytime, but it gets fairly cold up here in the mountains at night.” Link walked over to the bench and examined the cloth more closely. They were pants, identical to the ones Rhett was currently wearing, but a line of neat stitching marked where they had been shortened. “You’re not exactly dressed for cold weather.” Link glanced down at his attire. A thick, gold-plated belt held up a gauzy maroon loincloth that hung down to his knees. His chest, normally bare to the elements, was covered in white bandages, but that too was not made to keep him warm. “Thank you,” he said, softly. It’s not that he had never been given things. He practically wanted for nothing when he was a servant of the Hutt, but this was different. No one had ever given him something without him asking, just because they wanted to. No one had ever given him a gift before. “I was hoping to have them done before you woke up.” Rhett couldn’t seem to look directly at Link, much to the confusion of the shorter man. People were always staring at him, they never stopped looking. It was hard to understand this stranger from the mountains. “I never thanked you… earlier. For saving me from that… thing… in the woods. You saved my life.” “You’re very welcome.” There was an awkward pause as Link struggled with finding a way to express the many questions that were running rampant in his head, unsure where to begin. He was confused about why he was having such difficulties just talking to this tall stranger. He never had problems speaking to anyone, even his masters. He always knew where he stood with them. “Are you hungry?” Rhett asked, suddenly. Link hadn’t thought about it, but the question made his stomach rumble, as if answering for him. “Starving. I guess I can’t remember when I last ate.” Even the meager travel rations they gave Link and the other slaves couldn’t have truly been considered food. They were just nutritious enough to keep the cargo alive.

"If you like, I can make some grebnar stew. It’s getting close to supper time.” “Yes, thank you.” Link didn’t know what else to say. People didn’t usually ask his opinion on anything. Rhett smiled at his response though, and he couldn’t help but smile back. There was something so kind in that bearded face, gentle and caring. He was like no one he had ever even heard of and he felt drawn to him. That sensation, too, was a first.

Next Chapter

Additional Notes:

Kybuck: an animal originally from Kashyyyk. They look very much like the Tauntauns found on Hoth, if you crossed one with a horse.

More Fics

#rhett #link #rhink #star wars #fanfic #starwars #the lone jedi

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hermannco · 7 years

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Back to the Au in which people with powers done have them and people who dont, do. Very rough and bound to be modified.

Batman: See Batman of Shangai shorts (The third one). Can turn into a bunch of energy bats. Uncanny speed and enhanced strenght.

Joker: can make people laugh with his powers. Psychic powers. Its disturbing. Can probably walk on walls.

Harley: Contort without pain in unhuman ways. Streemly strong and resistant.

Mad Hatter: Mind control powers. Creates illusions as well. Extremly dangerous. Asylum staff has seen him floating with the corner of their eyes.

Scarecrow: Can give someone mentla pictures of their worst fears upon contact, if exposed long enough the scenario can keep going without him not needing to touch you. Rumours says he has done it just by looking at people as well.

Riddler: Tecknokinesis, can control tecnological things. Manipulate pieces and twist them into something else. Control and modify data, computers, passwords, etc.

Mr. Freeze: Born with Freeze powers, reversed to a normal human with experimentation. Exper on criogenics.

Manbat: Bat that went illegal experimentation, turned into a human. With an overgrowth of intelligence he can easily pass as a human. It is very clear he is still not comfortable with his skin tho. Will revert into a bat (now oversized) under stress.

Poison Ivy: Could control plants as a natural metahuman, got forcibly reversed into just a human, she was obsessed with becomming what he used to be. As a brillaint science she has developed different formulas that allow her to take revenge. She can raise and make them smarter and train them to do things. Insta-grow seeds and other things.

#i think im done for now #batman #noir talks #powerful powerless au

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ivyprism · 1 year

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Masterlist 19

Suggestive? Kind of? *

Character and AU Information:

Gods and Goddesses of Love and Hate (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes H and Skelesona (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes Royal Family (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes Grillby and Muffet (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes Mettaton and Napstaton/blook (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes Alphys and Undyne (Info Dump)

The Melody of the Universes Monster Kid, Chara, and Frisk (Info Dump)

H Fun Fact (Ripple the Skeleton Dog)

Hesper (Tenebrous Skelesona)

Keres and Hecate (Dream Walker and Wish Granter Swap and Fell Skelesonas)

The Underfell Melody of the Universes Papyrus, Sans, and Gaster (Info Dump)

The Underswap Melody of the Universes Papyrus, Sans, and Gaster (Info Dump)

Luminus Papyrus (Info Dump)

Luminus Sans and Gaster (Info Dump)

Luminus Skelesona and H (Info Dump)

Corrupt Angel Papyrus and Rogue Demon Papyrus (Info Dump)

Corrupt Angel H and Rogue Demon H (Info Dump)

Chamomile's Brother and Sister (Info Dump)

The Deities of Fate (Info Dump)

Underfell and Underswap Dream Walker H (Info Dump)

Deity Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Another Goddess H (Info Dump)

Some More Sonas! (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern H and Skelesona (Info Dump)

Some Villain OCs (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Villain OC (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and modern OCs (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Royal Family (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Children (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Fell Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Fell Gaster (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Swap Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Alphys and Undyne (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Mettaton and Napstablook/Napstaton (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern Muffet and Grillby (Info Dump)

OG Sonas Updated! (Info Dump)'

A Mystery Man OC (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Dragon Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Sonas (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Dragon Skelesonas (Info Dump)

The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Dragon Gasters (Info Dump)

The Sea's Song (Info Dump)

The Bookkeeper H (Info Dump)

The Visitor (Info Dump)

The Bookkeeper's Technician Skeleton Brothers (Info Dump)

The Forgotten Scientist Assistant Skelesona (Info Dump)

The Skeleton Queens (Info Dump)

My Old Fell AU: Rewritten Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster (Info Dump)

The Wandering SOUL H (Info Dump)

The Wandering SOULs Sanses and Papyruses (Info Dump)

The Wandering SOULs Chara and Temmie (Info Dump)

The Wandering SOULs Underfell and Fellswap Red (Info Dump)

Stories Written:

Does it hurt? (Tenebrous Story)

:) (Corrupted Angel Papyrus)

>:) (Tenebrous Papyrus)

;) (Rogue Demon Papyrus)

>;) (Luminus Papyrus)

:D (The Melody of the Universe Papyrus)

>:D (The Underfell Melody of the Universe Papyrus)

:))) (The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Sans)

A Tragedy, Really. (Underfell Story)

It's not that interesting. (The Bookkeeper Story)

It's too quiet (Underfell Angst Story)

Don't Imagine:

Happy Birthday, Neil!!! (Hehehehehe)

Asks:

How Salamander is celebrating Halloween (Underfell Gaster)

Costumes (Main 16 Boys)

Costumes (All Gasters)

Candy? (Skeleton Boys)

Movies? (Skeleton Boys)

How are they celebrating Halloween? (Underswap Silver Sans, Allurefell Sans, and Ink Sans)

How Shrike is celebrating Halloween? (Underfell Silver Papyrus)

What are Commander and Cardinal going as? (Underfell Sans and Mafiafell Papyrus)

Weapon Match Up (Isaac's Forge)

Comfort his partner (Horrorswap Papyrus)

Best Friends (Main 16 + Swapfell, Fellswap Amaranth, Silver and Danceswap Papyrus)

Genres of music! (The Melody of the Universes AU)

Tempo's Genre (The Melody of the Universes Papyrus)

Lyra's Genre (The Melody of the Universes Undyne)

Soft Brass Headcanons (Swapfell Papyrus)

Dating Roscoe (Mafiafell Sans)

Tenebrous and Luminus AUs (World Building)

Morte and Lucien fighting (Tenebrous + Luminus Papyrus)

Singing (Tenebrous and Luminus AU)

Someone interested in him (The Duet of Medieval and Modern Grillby)

Smoking? (Underswap Papyrus and Underswap Silver Papyrus)

Type? (The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Undyne)

Type? (The Duet of Modern and Medieval AU Swap Sans)

Romance! (The Duet of Medieval and Modern AU Swap Sans and Undyne)

What do the Bookkeeper's Technicians do? (The Bookkeeper's Technicians)

Spare time? (The Bookkeeper's Technicians)

Favorite Place? (The Bookkeeper's Technicians_

Comfort? (Undertale Sans)

Snacks and Savory Food (The Bookkeeper's Technicians)

Pranks? (The Bookkeeper's Technicians)

Comfort? (Dusttale Sans)

Cuddle? (Undertale Sans)

Puns? (The Bookkeeper's Technician Papyrus)

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chantillyxlacey · 7 years

Text

OKAY SO MSAPortal ideas here

Vivi and Lewis are both test subjects. Lewis remembers who he was before Aperture got its hands on him, even if those memories are a little scrambled. Vivi doesn’t remember a thing about her identity, how she came to be in Aperture, or indeed much of anything at all before she woke up in the Extended Relaxation Chamber.

What she lacks in episodic memory though, she more than makes up for with procedural memory about using the portal gun-- she was part of that test group before everything happened and she’s an absolute beast with the thing. Lewis was part of a different group (he worked mostly with personality cores; as sort of a human Turing test for them) and had never used a portal gun before, so he’s got to learn it from scratch.

Arthur is a personality core. He tried to wake every human up he could find once the reactor started to fail, but only Vivi and Lewis weren’t already vegetables. He’s hugely impressed with how much Lewis knows about AI and how good Vivi is with the portal gun and immediately takes a shine to them.

(More under the cut)

Shiromori is the equivalent of GLaDOS, though there was never a Caroline that got turned into her. She took sort of a Poison Ivy view of things, deciding that plants were more worthy of existing than anything in kingdom Animalia, and humans especially. So when she gets woken up, Aperture actually gets MORE overwhelmed by plant life, and the transformation it undergoes is more that the tangled overgrowth is tailored into a highly manicured garden full of exotic and often dangerous specimens.

Mystery is another AI every bit as complex as Shiromori, but he’s rather fond of humanity. He was dormant for a long while and didn’t ‘wake up’ until shortly before Shiro did. It was him who gave Arthur the idea to start waking up humans to try and assist in an escape from the facility, and the event that woke Shiro up was actually part of Arthur’s attempt to get Mystery plugged into the mainframe that would give him control of the facility instead of her. Mystery’s currently “hiding” from her by playing the part of another personality core, something with a role so innocuous that he’s not even worth thinking about. He can’t risk contacting the Arthur Vivi and Lewis directly, so he instead communicates in cryptic, Rattmann-esque paintings and radio messages.

I’m not sure yet what would be this AU’s equivalent of the cave, or how that would play out. It might be that they attempt to plug Arthur into the mainframe instead of Mystery in a move of desperation? And there’s something in that mainframe that’s the rough equivalent of ???; it was never a problem for Shiro because she’s got it outclassed by miles in terms of firewall protection, but Arthur is easy pickings in comparison. Rather than Shiro being the one to taunt him about his purpose as being a “cowardice” core, it’s ???. (Which is inaccurate anyway; Arthur was indeed designed to be a control measure on Shiro, but he was more meant to embody “self doubt” than “cowardice”)

I’m even more unsure what would follow that-- does Lewis die in this AU, or merely get separated? Does Arthur remain plugged into the mainframe and under ???’s influence or does he get ejected once Shiro is ousted from the mainframe and ??? has control? Does Mystery join their party (’they’ being Arthur and Vivi) now that Shiro isn’t a threat, because while ??? is still very dangerous, it doesn’t have a personal grudge against Mystery like Shiro does. Does Vivi know what happened in the mainframe chamber? If so, did she witness it or was it explained to her after the fact? Do Lewis and Shiro team up a la Chell and POTaTOS, gunning for revenge on Arthur and Mystery respectively? And if so, does Shiro KNOW that Arthur was under the influence of the ??? virus; would she tell Lewis this if she did and would he not believe her, or would she withhold this information?

The possibilities are endless tbh and whoever wants to scream about this AU with me is welcome to in fact I am literally begging you to I’m getting hyped about Portal again and it feels almost like an acid flashback.

#MSA #MSAPortal AU #Portal was my first fandom it's where I got my start on tumblr #so this au feels extra special to me lol

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ivyprism · 2 years

Text

Masterlist 18

Suggestive? Kind of? *

Character and AU Information:

More Deities (Info Dump)

Goddess H and Skelesona (Info Dump)

Underfell Silver Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

UF Silver Headcanons (Info)

UF Silver Skelesona and H (Info Dump)

Secret Papyrus (Info Dump)

Secret Gaster and Sans (Info Dump)

The Story of the Heroes of Cartos (Info)

Rune Fun Facts (Secret Outcode Papyrus)

More Deities: Evil (Info Dump)

Underswap Silver Papyrus, Sans, and Gaster (Info Dump)

Swapfell and Fellswap Silver Papyrus and Sans (Info Dump)

Horrortale Monstersona (Info Dump)

Underfell Monstersona and Underswap Monstersona (Info Dump)

Angels Fall Monstersona (Info Dump)

Underswap Silver H (Info Dump)

Tenebrous Papyrus (Info Dump)

Tenebrous Sans and Gaster (Info Dump)

Tenebrous H (Info Dump)

Stories Written:

Beautiful Snow (Backstory of UF Silver)

Secrets (Secret Outcode Boys Backstory)

Don't Imagine:

Various (Lots of Boys)

Various (Lots of Boys)*

Sans (Hehehehehe)

Sandstone! (Hehehehehe!)

Various! (Hehehehehehehehe!)

Asks:

Shrike Surface Things (Underfell Silver Sans)

Dating King (Underfell Silver Papyrus)

Headcanons + Smooch (Underfell Silver Gaster)

Crush (Underfell Silver Sans)

Playful Banter (Underfell Silver Sans)

Smooches (Underfell Silver Sans and Villain! Underfell Sans)

Smooches (Underfell Silver Papyrus)

Smooches (Allurefell Sans)

Smooches (Underfell! Dream Walker Sans)

Confess or be Confessed To (Underfell Silver Papyrus)

Confess or be Confessed To (Underfell Silver Sans)

Matching Tattoo (Underfell Silver Sans)

Sick SO (Swapfell Glaucous Sans and Underfell Silver Papyrus)

Flustered SO (Underfell Silver Boys)

Some Villains Headcanons (Villain! Swapfell Glaucous and Villain! Underfell)

Rhydian Headcanons (Secret Outcode Sans)

Soft Cardinal and Finch Headcanons (Underfell Sans and Villain! Underfell Sans)

Obsidian Dating (Underswap Silver Papyrus)

Smooches (Underswap Silver Papyrus)

Stressed? (Underswap Silver Papyrus)

Jobs (Underswap Silver and Underfell Silver Boys)

Jobs (Fellswap Silver and Swapfell Silver Boys)

Dating Conleth and Rex (Fellswap Silver Papyrus and Swapfell Silver Papyrus)

Smooches (Fellswap Silver Papyrus and Swapfell Silver Papyrus)

Friendship! (The Silver Skeleton Boys)

Affection? Joy? Together? (The Underswap Silver Boys)

First Date? Romantic? Together? Wedding? (Lots of Underfell Sanses)

Kissing Booth (Underfell Gaster)

Kissing Booth (Mafiafell Gaster)

Kissing Booth (Horrorfell Gaster)

Kissing Booth (Underfell Silver Sans)

Kissing Booth (Underswap Sans)

Kissing Booth (Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

Kissing Booth (Undertale Sans)

Kissing Booth (Underfell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Swapfell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Undertale Sans... Again)

Kissing Booth (Underswap Silver Sans)

Kissing Booth (Horrorfell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Allurefell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Underfell! Dream Walker Sans)

Kissing Booth (Villain! Underfell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Undertale Gaster)

Kissing Booth (Angels Fall Sans)

Kissing Booth (Horrortale Sans)

Kissing Booth (Angels Fall Demon! Sans)

Kissing Booth (Mafiaswap Sans)

Kissing Booth (Fellswap Red Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Swapfell Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Undertale Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Underfell Silver Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Underswap Silver Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Swapfell Silver Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Fellswap Silver Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Undertale Sans... For the third time!)

Kissing Booth (Ink Sans)

Kissing Booth (Swapfell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Swapfell Sans... again.)

Kissing Booth (Underswap Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Villain! Underfell Papyrus)

Kissing Booth (Mafiafell Sans)

Kissing Booth (Horrorfell Papyrus)

Kiss (Underfell Gaster)

Chive HCs (Horrorfell Sans)

Cinnamon and Cassia HCs (Horrortale and Horrorfell Papyrus)

Roscoe Soft HCs (Mafiafell Sans)

Movies (Fell Sanses)

Movies (Fell Papyruses)

Things they wanna do (Fell Papyruses)

Roscoe and Cardinal HCs (Underfell Sans and Mafiafell Sans)

Costumes! (Villain and Hero Skeleton Boys)

How they're celebrating Halloween (All Dream Walker Boys)

How they're celebrating Halloween (Main 16 Papyruses)

7 notes · View notes

ivyprism · 2 years

Text

Masterlist 17

Suggestive? Kind of? *

Character and AU Information:

Demon Papyrus, Sans, and Gaster (Info)

Masquerade Mermaid Pirate AU: Rewritten (Info)

Some OCs (Angels Fall AU)

Info for Revamped Mermaid Pirate AU (Info Dump)

The Cursed Twins (Info Dump)

The Pirates of Vividus Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster (Info)

Royal Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus Skelesonas and Sonas (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus (Info)

Some Facts of the Pirates of Vividus Characters (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus Undynes and Alphyses (Info)

Royal Toriel, Asgore, Asriel, and Chara (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus Toriel, Asgore, Asriel, and Chara (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus Frisks and Monster Kids (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus Grillbys and Muffets (Info)

The Pirates of Vividus Mettatons and Napstablooks (Info)

The Family of the Mermaid Sisters Rewrite (Info)

Four Places Info (Worldbuilding?)

Some More Gods! (Info)

Deities of Seasons (Info)

Oleander (Villain! H)

Kingdom SOULs Papyrus and Sans (Info)

The Deities of Storms (Info)

Alluretale Sans and Papyrus (Info)

Alluretale Shelly and Delilah (Info)

Alluretale: A Royal Miscalculation Shelly and Delilah (Info)

MafiaAllure Shelly and Delilah (Info)

Alluretale (Info)

Alluretale H and Skelesona (Info)

Alluretale Frisk, Chara, Asriel/Flowey, and Monster Kid (Info)

Alluretale Asgore and Toriel (Info)

Alluretale Mettaton and Napstablook/Napstaton (Info)

Alluretale Grillby and Muffet (Info)

Alluretale Undyne and Alphys (Info)

Allurefell Papyrus, Sans, and Gaster (Info)

Allurefell Grillby and Muffet (Info)

Angels Fall Fellswap and Swapfell Skeletons (Info)

Badger's Favorite Spot (Fellswap Demon Papyrus)

Bronze's Favorite Place (Swapfell Angel Papyrus)

Jewel and Jayla: Swapfell Angel Skelesona and Fellswap Demon Skelesona (Info Dump)

Villain! Underfell Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Hero! Underswap Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Heroes and Villains AU (Info)

Hero! Fellswap Amaranth and Villain! Swapfell Glaucous Boys (Info Dump)

Villains and Heroes: Underfell Skelesona Family (Info Dump)

Villains and Heroes: Underfell H (Info Dump)

Truth and Lies: Twin Gods (Info Dump)

Creators: What are they? (Info Dump)

Destroyers: What are they? (Info Dump)

Wish Granter and Dream Walker Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Wish Granter and Dream Walker H and Skelesona (Info Dump)

Underfell Wish Granter and Dream Walker Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Underswap Wish Granter and Dream Walker Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

My Monstersona (Info Dump)

Stories Written:

One Shot (Horrorfell Papyrus)

Baron's Dream (Villain! Underfell Papyrus)

A Dream Walker's Wish (Short)

Was it always so cold? (Swapfell Glaucous Stuff)

Don't Imagine:

Multi-characters (Long, but fun.)

Don't Imagine (Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

Don't Imagine (Fellswap Red Demon Papyrus and Swapfell Angel Papyrus)

Don't Imagine (Fell Sanses)

Don't imagine (Mafiafell Papyrus)

Don't Imagine (Happy Birthday, Ranch)

Asks:

Fluff (Angels Fall! Demon! Sans)

Fluff (Angels Fall AU Sans)

Fluff (Dream Papyrus)

Favorite Things (Angels Fall Sans)

Favorite Things (Dream Papyrus)

Never Ending Candy (Fellswap Amaranth Papyrus)

Coffee and Baked Goods (Swapfell Glaucous Sans and Papyrus)

Sleepy SO (Horrorfell Gaster)

Half-Human Half-Monsters (Just in general)

Sleeping SO (Fell Skeleton Papyruses)

Snuggle (Swap Papyruses)

Fluff (Nightmare Papyrus)

Griffin Lines (Angels Fall Sans)

Clinginess (Swapfell Glaucous Papyrus and Fellswap Amaranth Papyrus)

Romance and smiles (The Pirates of Vividus Sans and Dream Papyrus)

Affection and Love (Demon Sans and Nightmare Papyrus)

Wingman (Alluretale Sans)

Charm (Alluretale World Building)

Charm pt. 2 (Alluretale World Building)

Charm pt. 3 (Alluretale World Building)

Kiss (Alluretale Grillby)

Kiss (Allurefell Grillby)

River and Fish (Fellswap Red Demon Papyrus)

Dark Side (Fellswap Red Demon Papyrus)

Biggest Regret (Fellswap Red Demon Papyrus)

Fist Fight at Disney (Underfell Sans)

Snuggles with Salamander (Underfell Gaster)

Brothers (Villain and Heroes AU)

Free Times (Villains and Heroes AU Papruses)

Sick SO/Crush (Villain and Heroes AU Papyruses)

Normally Composed Partner Cries (Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

Catch his attention (Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

Talking to him (Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

"I want to kiss your dumb funny face" (Villain! Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

Carignan Kisses (Villain! Swapfell Glaucous Sans)

9 notes · View notes

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