The 3 sentence fic promt was the word Spite and made by @novafire-is-thinking.
The reason why this post is being made is because in attempting to modify it, i accidently deleted the ask, sorry about that.
Though thank you for giving me an excuse to write something about my Au Rid Fae outside of Discord and personal word documents.
Soundwave has been a fearsome foe to all that face him, but he has never faced agaist a god who can disapear from any sight, be silent to any ears and invisible to any senses.
Especialy a god that remembers perfectly what his faction tried to do to the planet and one that has no tolerance for his presence.
The Decepticon Sic thinks he can fly away from him but the Shadowzone is his realm, the would have to land eventually, and when he does, the Void God will make him perish in silence.
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Noooo that moose thing freaks me outtt. The thought of something not human talking in the voice of someone you know? Naaaah if I was the witch I would NOT be leaving that house until Price is 110% certain that thing is GONE.
-🦖
You peak put the back window into your garden, the curtains pulled just enough to let you see without showing you're watching. That thing is still put there. You can see it peaking out from behind a tree, watching your house like you're watching it. Both of you waiting for the other to make a move.
Price wanders by your fence and glances around, looking between your window and your garden. You point at the wall insistently. He raises a brow, fingers picking up the neatly folded note you'd left him. He reads it, turns it over to check the back, folds it and tucks it into his pocket. He disappears and you wait.
Someone, Price, knocks on your front door and you scramble to answer it. Price raises a brow as you grab his wrist and pull him inside. Your threshold pops a little, but settles politely back into its usual wards.
"Well this is a nice surprise," Price smiles as you pull him through the house, "Thought your bedroom was to the right."
"What?" You pause in your kitchen, hand on your back door, to look over your shoulder at Price.
"Hm?" He hums, you narrow your eyes at him. He looks perfectly happy to hold your hand and be dragged through your home. As if this is the most natural place for him to be. You don't have time to examine that.
You shake your head and pull your curtain to the side to peak through and check if the moose is still there. It's right at the wall now, apparently motivated by Price's presence. Once again it's horns scrape your threshold as it butts its head against your brick garden wall. You shudder, squeeze Price's hand a little tighter. You feel him move behind you, his chest against your back as he looks over your head at the creature.
"That what scared you the other day?" He asks low, you can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You close your eyes, grounded in the smell of tobacco and the firm pressure of his body against yours.
"How d'you know if I was scared?" You open your eyes again, keep them carefully on the moose. It can't break through your wards but that doesn't mean you can't feel it trying.
"You pulled," he doesn't move anything but his head, dropping it to press his lips against the shell of your ear, "if you'd called-"
"I need you to chase it away," You tell him quickly, not confident in your resolve to get him out of the house again if let him say anything further. Price pauses.
"Not kill it?" You shiver at his tone, at the way he murmurs it directly into your ear, smooth and confident. You don't like unnecessary death, and while you're sure that creature is dangerous you have no reason to wish it was dead.
"No, just- just get it away from me. Tell it I'm not on the menu." You mumble feeling the tickle of his beard against your neck.
"For it, or-"
"For everyone," You elbow Price to get him away from your vital points. He pulls back. You're not sure if he was kidding, but you're suddenly reminded that he's not supposed to be so close to you.
"And what's in it for me?" Price asks, suddenly all business. You knock your forehead against the window a few times. The moose looks up at the noise, staring straight through your window with its horrible glassy eyes.
You weigh your own fear, the danger of the moose, the effort Price is going to. Honestly this isn't a big ask of him, you're sure he's in very little danger and telling something to fuck off isn't exactly hard work. If you were closer you might ask him to just do it as a favor, but you don't want to have that favor called on as things currently stand. He's being respectful by asking upfront. You like that about him.
"A meal." You tell him finally, "I'll cook you something, dinner. Not tonight, I don't have anything good." You think, Price let's you, hasn't given you a deal or no deal, "Wednesday? Does that work for you?" You look back at him and he's smiling.
"Dinner Wednesday, it's a date."
"It's not a date."
"It's a date." He reassures you, opening your back door to go chase off the not-moose. You almost hope the moose kills him, you're really starting to regret even letting Price in the house.
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Labyrinth rant because I love it and need to vent it out
So Jim Henson's Labyrinth is my new fixation.
I kinda wish it was one of my childhood movies, I'm sure I would have loved it just like I loved The Neverending Story, but I'm also happy I discovered it now that I can decode the subtext in it.
It speaks a lot to me. I still am very keen on escaping from reality through fantasy as a coping mechanism, just like Sarah. I can't help but see her adventure not as real, but as a dream become physical. For me, what we see is just a manifestation of an internal struggle. That means her own mind is giving herself the chance to understand a lesson. She's actually fighting not to let her own tendency to escapism dominate her this much anymore, at least not to the point of discarding serious responsabilities. That's why Jareth, who embodies that, is a selfish, bullying tyrant and the Labyrinth is in decay. Reminds me of Scar's reign lol
I think it makes sense that Jareth embodies both her love for fantasy since childhood and the ghost of sexuality. Both (would) inspire her the utmost pleasure, just since two different points of her life.
I love Jareth's and Sarah's dynamic, in that sense. I love her struggle against the temptations he represents. I love how perfectly tempting he is. Yet I'm so satisfied by her final decision to let him down. About her love for fantasy, she's too mature. About sexuality, she's still too young. Both things need to be limited.
I also love how the conclusion isn't about getting rid of some part of you in order to grow up, but to balance all you parts. Your seek of happiness and pleasure and what it inspires it don't need to be erased, just not weight too much. It implies that you don't have to have shame and get rid of anything, every part of you is inherently good just because it helps to build you. It's up to you to balance the components.
It's reassuring and empowering.
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🗣️
I have several WIPs I like so it would be a hard to pick a favourite, so I will pick the one of two ongoing at the moment aside from Winx Miko: Rid Fae
What started as initially a rid2015 rewrite ended up diverging so much that it became it's own continuity with the addition of magic and magical creatures. While also using also linking some of tfp to it.
While it starts at the same place, with team Bee forming on Earth, fighting Underbite and setting their base in Denny Scrapyard, it starts to diverge in several ways with one of the first being that Denny and Russel being changelings (Which is initially hidden from the bots and Russel hides it from his dad) and many ways major and minor.
While I am still developing some individual parts, I got alot of worldbuilding done, have a couple of Ocs that play major roll like Jenny and Violet and the overall arc for each "season" I want to make for it, like for season one it would be the introduction to the fae world and the mystery surrounding the Alchemor and it's prisoners.
It might be a bit self indulgent, But I find it really fun to develop it
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I'm already so obsessed with fae!price and his witch
Because price is a debt collector I'm just imagining he's got a lot of disgruntled beings that would do anything to get out from under his thumb. Do you think anyone would notice price's tether with the witch or his relationship with her and attempt to use that to gain leverage on him. I can imagine him cutting short anyone who tries with brutal efficiency. But his witch is also smart in being able to see through not just price's intentions but others too
If they did notice the tether, they'd probably assume it was just another person indebted to Price. But if they saw him hanging around the Witch they might start to think it was something more.
Your roses are growing better than they usually do. Their blooms open a little longer, petals turning brown slower than you expected. When you inspect the plant there isn't anything different about it, nothing magical at least. The soil around the base is wet, though you can assume that's from your watering can.
(In the dead of night Price drags a knife across the throat of the would be intruder testing your threshold. He grips their hair, careful to make sure the quickly draining corpse doesn't fall over your fence and onto your flowers. The blood arcs and sprays over the brick, the patter of it like rain against deep red rose petals and thick thorns. The gurgle of life chokes its way out of the lesser fae's throat. Price shushes them, before dragging their limp body back towards Winter.)
The besom over your door has dried out more quickly than you would like. Doing its job well, you suppose. You make a note to go out and grab supplies for a new one this weekend. You break the handle apart and toss the spent magic in your fire. You grab a jar of feathers from your bookshelf and knot a quick witches ladder to take the broom's place. You tuck a root bundle on the top of the doorjam for added warding.
(Another lackey of the Court's. This is getting tiring. This one is stupid enough to try the front door. Price wraps his hand over their mouth and thrusts his favorite knife into their back, once, twice, again, and again. He aims for vital organs, and tries to keep the bleeding to a minimum. He hates cleanup, and you're bound to notice if there's blood on your front step.)
Price leans against your garden wall, looking as pleased as ever to see you. You don't see a gift this time. Strange. You greet him all the same, and enjoy talking with him as you work. You clip a few roses and neatly slide your athame along the stem to slice the thorns off. They've gotten so sharp recently, you're almost considering selling them to some of the other witches in the area. You hold a de-thorned rose out to Price.
"What's this for?" His smile is as amused as his tone, he doesn't move to take it.
"For keeping me company." You tell him, although you're reluctant to put a price on that. You know it could be considered rude. It's a relief when Price takes it gingerly from your fingers.
"It's my pleasure," He tells you low, eyes heavy as he spins the rose between his fingers.
(You're his prize and he'll be damned if he lets anyone else get to you first.)
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["You would be in my bubble except I am 100% confident you don't need my help."] No need to spy on you for your own good.
So funny to hear that; despite the logic: it felt so strange, it felt so strange, it felt so strange.Not used to hearing it, it seems.
Despite people having their own idea of him, similar to this.
He's fine. He's okay. that's foreign.
Noir gets the kind of looking around and blinking like that of an animal. "oh. thanks."
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