#what the fuck is it with the chapters where like nothing happens being so dang long

[lemortehomme]

New Story Coming Soon!

I've been quiet for a bit but I haven't been idle! I've been working on my next longfic. You can find a preview of some of the first chapter below the cut!

Also, I have been balls-to-the-wall with this dang story and have absolutely no outside perspective on it 🙃 so if anyone would be interested in beta-ing, hit me up. I'm not looking for line-by-line editing, more so pacing and "why the fuck is this plot thread here when you never pick it back up" kind of beta-ing. It is already a long story (so far, 27 chapters and over 100k with more to come), so I would be happy to offer betaing in return, or illustrate your story, or attempt binding one of your fics into a book (I'm still learning how to do this though lol).

Revenant

Beth wakes up screaming in the back of an ambulance, dying not from a gunshot to the head, but from a suicide attempt. Walkers are nothing but a distant memory she can't forget and no one remembers. Three lonely years later, Beth is almost ready to accept the memories are delusions, until Daryl Dixon crosses her path for the first time.

And he knows her name.

A loose thread dangles from her sleeve. Beth captures it between her fingers, rolling it back and forth until it twists itself into a sharp point. She lets go and the thread curls, but the point remains. There is a muted squeak from the office chair across from her as Dr. Blake shifts in her seat.

Beth looks at her from beneath wheat straw hair, dried to a crisp by the industrial-strength shampoo she must use. Dr. Blake is pretty in the way older women are; the lines on her face are comforting and the crows feet punctuating the corners of her eyes hold a lifetime's worth of experience. Beth knows she is married because of the ring, but there are no photos of her family on her desk. There is, however, a framed photo of a sunset, film-grained and amateur in a way that speaks to it being a shot Dr. Blake or her husband took, rather than a photographer's work. Beth has always wanted to ask where it was taken.

Dr. Blake shifts again and says, "Are you sure you don't have anything else you'd like to share with me today, Beth? Not even your opinion about our kitchen's take on chicken parmesan?"

"No, I've been feelin' alright," Beth says with a little shake of her head, straw hair rustling like dead grass.

Grass baked by the sun crepitated as worn soles broke the stems; the enduring sun brought beads of sweat popping up across her forehead as she watched Rick make his way down the hill. On the other side of the fence waited—

"Can you tell me what you see right now?"

The thread is caught again between her fingers and Beth lowers her eyes to her laceless shoes. "I see you. In your chair. Your desk. I see my shoes. The carpet."

"Good. Will you tell me what it was?"

"My hair. It sounded like grass."

Dr. Blake blinks patiently, waiting, as she always does, for Beth to volunteer more information of her own free will. But the more Beth talks about these delusions—delusions, she must use the right word or she will slip up; they are not memories—the longer she will be here, so she doesn't. It is her second longest stint, three months so far. She's been shuffled between the centers, units, and wards of half the state. Maggie promises there's a place waiting for her at home every time they talk, but Beth knows the bed waiting for her is conditional. She will lose herself again and return to the bland embrace of locked wards.

She doesn't get a say in these decisions. Each one is made for her and will be long after she returns home. One of the decisions made for her happened right after she was locked away the first time and the courts said she was not in a place to make decisions for herself. The problem with being crazy is once people know you're crazy, you can never convince them otherwise 

"Okay. Our time's almost up. I'm really proud of the progress you've made here," Dr. Blake says, turning her clipboard over to reveal the smooth, brown back. "I think you have a solid foundation for success."

And with those words, Beth knows she is getting out soon, because she has not made any progress, she only knows how to lie in the way they want.

#bethyl #bethyl fanfiction

[alena-reblobs]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol14 Part 1

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1Vol02 Part 2 | Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 | Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1 | Vol08 Part2 | Vol09 Part1 | Vol09 Part2 | Vol10 Part1 | Vol10 Part2 | Vol10 Part3 | Vol10 Part4 | Vol11 Part 1 | Vol11 Part2 | Vol12 Part1 | Vol12 Part2 | Vol12 Part3 | Vol13 Part1 | Vol13 Part2 | Vol13 Part3 | Vol14 Part1

I don't wanna do this, but I have to! Aaah Chapter 1 is already killing meee. This will be long, probably only 2 chapters per post...because I need to save every picture!

Chapters 1 and 2 review under the cut!

It's early Vash! And everybody is smiling and happy...even Knives!! Just imagine what this manga would be like if it was a story about two alien boys helping out the humans on a strange planet with their fun and weird powers and shenanigans. The Office style, Knives looking sceptically into the camera while you can hear Vash shuffling around in the background and crashing things. Then even Knives has to laugh when he sees something funny outside of the camera view.

Chapter 1:

Alas, we are a manga with a darker story so hmm let's get on with it.

Loving Vash's little "haha no you haven't" :D And then trying to backtrack.

And again, we're getting Vash's thoughts...so very few moments throughout the whole series that every time it feels special and monumental. And this, it's...it feels like in this world full of bandits killing would be such a meaningless act, nothing to really ponder about. I mean, go on Vash, defend yourself, if the others die in the process it's not your fault! But he doesn't. And I really like that he's not being portrayed as this cool gunman that kills 5 bad guys with one bullet or smth, but he's defying every rational way of living under these surroundings to follow his belief.

The fight between Legato and Vash looks awesome and a lot is happening which I don't follow haha! But here I was thinking maybe Legato is pulling all those debris stuff that falls from above (the spaceship?) down on Vash with his powers, so that Vash's feathers are momentarily distracted with defending himself, and in the meantime Legato can get closer!

I really can't recall what happens with Chronica and I've read the series 2 times already...so...hope she's ok down there!

AAAH Legato you're fucked. We all love Vash when he's fun and friendly but BOY do we also like it when he's terrifying, don't we? That look!

Is it....secret shoulder pad weapon??

Get terrified, Legato.

This is such a damn cool Vash panel.

The text: Ough.

The middle panel: AAAAAH legit scary, imagine being Legato right now.

Also thi? Holy shit. He's just moving the prosthetic right through the gun. That is NOT an opponent you want to mess with. I think they are both screaming here.

(Small Elendira!! <3) Aso yeaaah ok Legato you can have a little of my sympathies. The sky looks so clear and wide and full of hope and how he's looking up at Knives..aaw dang.

Get crushed, Legato....this is the most brutal we've ever seen Vash be towards someone, isn't it? In terms of purposefully inflicting wounds.

What a cool change of emotion in this scene!! Legato really wants to die and he finally...sounds and looks at rest? And the moment he realises Vash won't do it, it's just pure anger. This is such a cool scene!! And Vash looks so conflicted!! He wants this fight to be over...but he cannot give up on his way of living.

Vash panel for the collection ♥ (and I kinda get where Legato is coming from.

Savage page....

(in any other scenario that Elendira/Livio blob could be a sexy pose but Nightow had to make one dead and both with a nail stuck through their torso)

Also the image of Elendira and Livio swooshing with high speed through the battlefield to Legato's place...how many poor citizen will be haunted by this picture for the rest of their live??

Because why you would want to work with someone, why you deem someone important, is only based upon their usefulness, right? Hmm, Legato? Mister I-need-to-be-useful-to-Knives?

Just imagine me screaming along with Vash here.

AAAHJDDAD BUUUHUHUHU that...that is Wolfwood in Vash's memory. Smiling, proud, upright, looking forward....aaaah buhuhuu. As I've said in an earlier chapter recap, I tend to overlook the fact that Vash and Wolfwood do NOT have the chance of a future together because of all the fics and art I see and think about, but pages like these always slap me back into reality. Thanks! Damnit.

*making the Cowboy Bebop pose* Baang.

Chapter 2:

Someone wrote smth about this being Wolfwood's ghost talking to Livio. It could be Razlo? Probably not! I'll wait for later in the volume with the other scene to write my thoughts about that.

Savage page...Overkill indeed (Interestingly enough, the "Overkill" title can also refer to what the earth has planned with their attack on Knives!)

And immediately breaking down

I wonder what the meaning is of Vash's coat turning red again. The black was thought to represent to last of his powers being used. But he's not gained any more powers, so was it also a sign of the pressure Legato put on him? Him being cornered, resisting the urge to kill until..he finally couldn't?

Also somebody else already wrote a post lots of weeks ago about how Vash, who lived his whole life after his firm believe to not kill, killed one person in the end for Wolfwood. Because he couldn't bear to let Wolfwood's death be in vain. A life for a life, but one life was indefinitely more important to Vash than the other. And, it's such a cruel story, but I love it. I love it because there's no moral to take from it. Because Vash as the main protagonist does not keep his higher moral ground by never pruposefully killing anyone. And it doesn't matter if it's Legato or a less evil person, the reader has learned throughout this series that this isn't important (and to Vash makes no difference) because a life is a life. Trigun isn't a story where the good people can always do good stuff because sometimes, life doesn't let you. It's just...a story. Shit stuff happens. Good stuff happens. The only thing that is permanent is the hope for the days to go on somehow. I'm getting sentimental before I'm even at the last chapters.

Nightow serving double punch after double punch! Of course now Vash has to get sad as he realizes how much his words must have hurt Wolfwood...and he can't take them back anymore. He can't apologize anymore! And we know they hurt Wolfwood because he's been often enough thinking about them. (But it was also these words that made Wolfwood get up, because he could NOT be a coward, he did NOT want to give up hope) Fuck, these two.

Yeah, I imagine it wasn't that much of a difficult decision for the earth government, sitting far far away, dooming some humans on some distant planet out there.

Silly Vash face!!

Turning them around so I can get a better look at these boys...the way Livio is broken up about this, he KNOWS what it must have meant to Vash. That Vash would take such a sacrifice for him (and for Wolfwood, by that)...I doubt he'd ever thought smb would sacrifice so much for him. Vash just earned himself a sworn brother for forever!

Meryl, who has seen so many memories from Vash's past, maybe she can grasp best what this means for Vash. And finally...finally this is the moment where someone will take some burden from him! And cradle him a bit, Meryl :( That man needs him. While he's laying in your lap, stroke his cheek, comb through his hair, wipe away some of the blood...someone please be soft to him and Meryl, you're the perfect one for the job.

Mr Vance has risen in my esteem!

Aah I have reached my image limit, but I wanted to post the last image with the feather...well. On towards the next chapters!! This will be a long read through but I really enjoy taking my time with this last volume. Gotta do it justice.

#trigun #trigunbookclub

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Aftermath

Not much physical whump in this chapter or the next but that doesn’t mean there won’t be any angst or whatever so there’s that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

←Previous  - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: painful magical healing, referenced use of “it” pronouns

The days since the incident had been entirely uneventful, which was both a blessing and a curse. Erebus was certainly glad to have some time to himself without being examined and grabbed all the time, but just being stuck in this room with only so many things to do and no one to talk to was a little rough. He had nothing to distract him from the myriad of things he didn’t want to dwell on. Struck with a sudden urge, he picked up his pillow, walked into the bathroom, calmly sat down in the corner, pressed his face into the pillow, and screamed. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why, not that he didn’t have a multitude of reasons to. Maybe he wanted to do it without anyone hearing for once. Maybe it was because that arm still took him by surprise every time he looked down. Maybe the constant itch of the collar wrapped around his throat had finally gotten to him. Maybe it was the fact that he could hardly write his name anymore, despite his best efforts. Maybe it was because the only person who’d been kind to him since this whole mess began, the only person he could turn to for comfort, was also ripping him to pieces, making him into some kind of monster. And there was nothing he could do about any of it. All he could do was endure. Endure and hope things wouldn’t get much worse.

He heard the door to the cell open, but he stayed where he was, figuring it was just someone dropping off food or bandages. It wasn’t until he heard a tentative “What are you...you’re not asleep are you?” that he looked up. Neteri was poking her head through the doorway, giving him a concerned look. She looked a lot better than the last time he’d seen her, and Erebus almost smiled before remembering that A) she was the majority of the reason he was so miserable in the first place and B) her catching him doing...this...was embarrassing, to say the least. He felt his face grow red.

“Why are you...were you just going to look in here without knocking?” Now it was Neteri’s turn to blush.

“Well-you-the door wasn’t closed so I thought...whatever, it’s not like I saw anything. What are you even doing in here?”

“I’m-it’s none of your business.” He stood up, taking comfort in the significant height advantage he had over her. “Look, can we...not talk in here?” Neteri nodded and they went and sat in the main part of the cell, Neteri on one of the chairs and Erebus on the bed. He didn’t put the pillow down, hugging it to his chest instead.

“So. How have you been these past few days? Both with your arm and after the, uh, incident?”

“My arm hurts and it’s shaky and I can’t straighten it out or make a fist and I can barely write with it.” Erebus rattled off his grievances quickly. He’d tried to keep track of everything that he noticed was wrong with it in the hopes that Neteri could fix it, going over the list time after time in his head. She nodded slightly.

“Okay, not too bad. It’s about what I was expecting, honestly, so I should be able to fix it without too much trouble.” Erebus allowed himself to feel a small bit of relief. If he was going to be stuck with this horrific arm, it was at least going to work. 

“As for what happened with, uh…”

“Hjáll?”

“Yeah. I...I think I’m okay now.” Erebus looked down. “Being a person...helps.” He looked back up at Neteri. “Who is she, anyway?

“She’s...my rival? Kind of. And also my boss.”

“Wait that was your boss?! Does that mean that she can-”

“No, no, what she did the other day was completely out of line. She technically has a right to examine you every so often, but I have to consent to it and be present, which obviously didn’t happen then.” She sighed. “I...I’ll likely have to let her do it again in the future, but I promise it won’t be like, uh, that. I’ll be right there the whole time, and I won’t let her hurt you or do anything...weird.”

“So I’m just going to have to sit there and let her...look at me?”

“Well, most likely she’s going to request that you be restrained, since she seems to have gotten the impression that you’re some kind or feral beast, which is honestly hilarious. What, did you bite her or something?”

“No, I just resisted when she tried to take off my clothes. I pushed her back. And I kicked her.” Neteri burst out laughing.

“Wait, you kicked her? You?” Erebus nodded, and Neteri laughed again. “Oh, oh that’s fantastic. I love it. She’s so high-and-mighty all the time and it is annoying. For real though, if she looks at you again I swear it won’t be that bad. Ugh, she’s probably going to keep using “it” pronouns for you, but I’ll try to correct her.” Erebus hated that he was grateful that his captor was insistent on treating him with basic human decency in this one instance, but here he was. “Alright.” Neteri jumped out of her chair. “You ready for me to fix your arm?”

“As long as you’ll get it right this time,” he said as he stood up.

“Keep talking like that I just might not.” He was afraid she was serious for a second, but the mischievous smile she flashed up at him told him otherwise.

After she freed his ankle, her hand clamped around his right wrist and she began to gently pull him down the hall. He briefly entertained the thought of jerking out of her grasp and running, but deep down he knew there wasn’t much point. He had no idea where he was in the castle or where the teleportation stone was, and he’d honestly rather just let Neteri get his arm working correctly. So he let her lead him along without a fight, at least until they arrived at the lab. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing that table again, the horrors of a few days prior starting to overtake his mind. Neteri looked up at him.

“You’re going to have to get on there if you want me to fix it.”

“C-could I at least sit up or-”

“Nope, I need you to be as still as possible or else it’ll mess with the...things could get messed up, to put it in not-technical terms. You need to be lying down and secured.” She thought for a moment. “I can, like, not strap all of you down, would that make you feel better?” He steeled himself before slowly nodding, approaching the table on shaky legs. Deep breath. He hoisted himself up onto the table, every fiber of his being crying out in protest not to get back up here, not to lie down and let himself be tortured all over again. But he did it anyway, because it was either do it himself or be forced to. Neteri watched him intently the whole time, not moving even when he’d laid down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“You’re...you’re really brave.”

“Huh?” 

“Well,” she said as she finally moved towards him, gently rolling up his right sleeve and unwinding the bandage,  “I mean I can tell how scared you are, and that’s justified, but you still got up here despite that, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s...I just know there’s no point in running or fighting.” He looked away, and his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “I think it means I’ve given up more than anything.”

“In a way, yes, but that’s not a bad thing.” She tightened the strap around his right wrist. “You just understand that resisting gets you nothing, and you’d rather make the choice to cooperate, but you’re still…” she furrowed her brow as she strapped his chest down. “You still have...resolve or...I don’t know how to explain it. Just like...something.”

“Something. That really clears it up.” She smiled.

“In conclusion: you’re brave,” she declared as she shoved the rag into his mouth to prevent him from arguing further. He halfway reached up to pull it out, but stopped himself and laid his arm back down. Maybe he shouldn’t give her a reason to strap his other arm down, since it seemed like she was going to start with just his right arm and chest secured. He braced himself, fingers of his left hand curling into the fabric of his shirt as he looked up at Zander the rat.

The pain started out quiet and slow, crackles and pops of little agonies sparking throughout his arm, preludes to the coming blaze. They steadily intensified, and before he knew it he was screaming, head arched back and knees bent as the pain ravaged his arm. A thousand flames coursed through every nerve before the sensation changed to a crawling itch, and it was all he could do to resist scratching at his arm. Thankfully, the magic stopped flowing soon after. And after a few residual twinges, the pain stopped too.

Neteri was breathing heavily, but she seemed to be in a much better condition than she had been the last time she attempted this, no blood coming out of her nose or ears. She smiled at him. “The worst of it should be over, but I might have to make a few adjustments. Can you try to make a fist? You said you couldn’t do that before, right?” Hesitantly, he did so, feeling a bolt of elation as the foreign fingers obeyed with ease. She let him sit up, having him move his arm all sorts of ways, and they were both happy to find that there were no problems with it at the moment. She cut the stitches around the now-healed spot where red and bronze skin were gnarled together, and he couldn’t help but wince as she pulled them out, despite how gentle she was being.

Once they got back to the cell, Erebus realized he could finally ask Neteri the question he’d thought of yesterday. “Does it do anything?”

“What?”

“The arm, does it do anything...special? Like how the tongue-”

“Oh, yeah, it should be able to...well, have you ever met a lust demon?”

“No?”

“Alright well basically what they’re able to do is change their appearance to suit the, ah, tastes of whatever human they’re trying to prey on. We’re not exactly sure if this is something they’re consciously able to do or if it’s purely reactionary. But there is a possibility that you’ll be able to change the appearance of your arm with enough practice.” 

“Really?” Erebus looked down at his arm, imagining it changing back to look like the one he’d lost, feeling a small spark of hope.

“Mmhmm. Theoretically, at least. I can’t promise you’ll be able to do it, but there’s a chance.” She shrugged as she said this. “Oh, that reminds me of something else I wanted to ask you earlier. Is there anything you want? I...I feel bad about what happened with Hjáll, and the procedure on your arm was more painful than it was supposed to be. So, is there anything I can do to sorta make it up to you? Obviously I’m not going to let you go or stop what I’m doing, because no, but uhhh…” Erebus furrowed his brow. What did he want besides his freedom? He considered asking her to let him visit his home and say goodbye to people, but he shuddered at the thought of anyone who knew him seeing him in his current state, and he didn’t want to burden them with the reality of what was happening to him. They might blame themselves, and it wasn’t their fault. So he wouldn’t ask her to take him to Nathar, but maybe…

“Could I...go outside? I haven’t seen the sky or plants or anything in so long and I...I hate being stuck underground like this.”

“Sure! Ooh, I could show around the city! Yeah, yeah, that should work. I’ll need to get a few things in order first, so it might be a couple of days.” She got up to leave. “Until then, work on seeing if you can get your arm to change or whatever. I’ll be back with your food...at some point later today.”

After she left, Erebus stared at his arm, concentrating on the image of the one he’d once had, trying to imagine the skin fading from bright red to light brown, but it remained the same as before. Well, he didn’t expect it to work right away. But hopefully it would, someday.

Hopefully.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #hopefully people are cool with a couple less painful chapters #we will return to horror after this short break! #so yee hjall will come back whenever i want to make erebus uncomfy again. its her job #thats right lust demons FUCK who would have thought #basically they live off of human bodily fluids...any fluids...in any orifice... #yeah #they could drink blood like vampires if they wanted to tho #but we get possible arm editing hours so this mans isnt stuck with it being red wheee #dw he will not have a good time with making it do shit #yeah thats right i will get to dump all my taiyorum lore into canon in the next chapter #after that we will return the anguish :) #but erebus can have a little break from being ripped apart. as a treat #hnng which means i have to figure out how to talk about crossbeds without calling them crossbeds #maybe i will harass someone who dont know geology #what the fuck is it with the chapters where like nothing happens being so dang long #seriously what the fuck you two stop talking all the dang time #this one is up there with ch8 in ''things that need to happen but i hate it but i want to just move on so here'' #okay i dont like hate it hate it i just. blegh #yes i only finished it because i was procrastinating on my hw

[yoonjinkooked]

Chemistry | JHS (6 (pt 1))

Part 6 - Just Do It

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut

Warnings: blonde Hobi (yes, that’s a dang warning), heaps of dirty talk, public groping, lots of sex discussion, them being responsible adults and getting tested before doing it, cursing, drinking. It ends on a bit of a cliff hanger cause this is just an intro of the smut fest that the next chapter will be Also, IMPORTANT: the ‘Spring Cleaning’ party that I am describing is fictional (that I know of at least) and I BEG OF YOU, please don’t mix your drinks. Just don’t. It won’t end well. Don’t mix drinks, don’t drink and drive, don’t drink what a random person gives you and never ever ever leave sight of your glass. Please. Drink responsibly and stay the f away from it if you are underaged. That also means you need to stay the f away from this story, too 💜

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

A/N: Again, DRINK RESPONSIBLY! The smut fest part 2 is coming super fast (no pun intended). Unedited, so please forgive me, I needed to get this shit out to you and i just need more Hobi. these are drabbles after all lol

“I’m clean,” Hoseok informs you with the widest grin possible. “Got the results emailed this morning. 100% clean and ready.” 

 You don’t register his words at all - first of all, he had startled you, appearing directly in front of your path, probably seeing you from afar, making your way to the study hall where the first class of your day takes place. And on top of that, you are way too shocked with his appearance to even bother understanding the words he was telling you. 

 “You’re… you’re blonde,” you mumble as you stare at his hair, wondering if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Sunlight makes hair lighter, doesn’t it? It doesn’t make it almost platinum, though. Looking him over, you realize that nothing else has changed - still the same height, still the same weight, still his signature casual but colorful clothing - but the blonde is there and it’s magnetic - it’s impossible to look at anything else before your eyes are glued to his new hairstyle again. It suits him so damn well. If someone had told you he’d look this good blonde, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

 “Oh, yeah,” he waves his hand off, laughing, as if it’s a completely irrelevant thing. Honestly, to him it might be, but not to you. “More importantly, I am clean,” he repeats his earlier words and this time around, you do get to properly register them, as well as the meaning behind them. Clean. Safe to have sex. No worries in that department. You should be overjoyed but not only are you still hypnotized by his sudden change of looks, you’re also refusing to focus on that particular information. 

 It’s weird - you did stuff, discussed even more, agreed on everything. You blushing at him informing you that it’s finally safe for him to fuck you and finish inside you is weird. 

 “You’re blonde,” is all you can say, and it earns you an eye roll from Hoseok. 

 “Oh come on Y/N,” he whines. “If you’re going to be like this just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

 “Hey!” you snap, smacking him on the shoulder in retaliation, which only makes him laugh. “Have mercy on me here, give me a moment to get used to this new look of yours. If I showed up with a completely different hair color, would you be able to focus on anything else?” you demand, absolutely positive that he’d be equally as lost as you are. 

 “If you telling me that you’re clean and we can finally fuck, yeah, I wouldn’t be focusing on hair, even if it had all the colors of the rainbow in it,” he answers honestly. 

 “Okay, okay, we get it, we’re on the same page - you’re stupidly hot, clean and want to fuck,” you laugh at him, although you would be a fool to deny that it’s getting to you - the way he is so upfront about liking you and being attracted to you is impossible to ignore - it makes you feel a lot more confident than you have felt in a long while. 

 “Oh Y/N, you know me so well,” he acts as if he’s genuinely touched and it’s this reaction that makes you melt and laugh. No matter the hair color, no matter how casual he references his intention to get his dick inside you, it’s Hoseok. And that’s all that matters. “Seriously though, we both have our results so whenever you’re ready, if you’re still up for it…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the raise of his eyebrow says it all. 

 “I’m not missing out on that piece of ass if that’s what concerns you,” you joke, looking him up and down as you speak. It’ll never cease to amaze you how he can whisper the dirtiest things to you, or even say them casually out loud, but turn as red as a tomato when you do the same thing. “What are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” you ask. 

 “Aren’t you going to Namjoon’s?” he frowns in confusion. “Spring Cleaning party season?” he reminds you and starts laughing immediately, probably at your look of realization mixed in with disgust. “Is this about Namjoon or about the Spring Cleaning party season?” he laughs. 

 What you guys refer to as spring cleaning is exactly what it sounds like - all the leftover alcohol that somehow managed to survive the past year is gathered in one place in the ‘bring-your-own-booze’ manner. It’s usually a mixture of hideous drinks and half empty bottles and once it’s all gathered, you make it even worse, combining it into borderline poisonous mixtures. Everyone attending and everyone drinking does so on their own responsibility, fully aware of how the night might end. 

 A year ago, it was still fun. Now, you know you’re too old for that shit. 

 “It’s about both,” you answer Hobi’s question in a whine. “I don’t wanna deal with wasted frat boys who’ll spend half the night throwing up and Namjoon is insufferable.” 

 “Namjoon is one of your best friends,” Hobi laughs. 

 “I know - that’s why I’m well aware of how insufferable he is,” you grunt in annoyance. “I know it’s tradition and all but can we skip all of that? Coochie in exchange for avoiding a party we’re too old for anyways?” you suggest. 

 “Wait,” Hoseok’s eyes widen and you can imagine a lightbulb turning on above his head. “You think Namjoon’s insufferable?” 

 “Incredibly so, yes.” 

 “And you want to make his life a living hell in retaliation?” he continues asking. 

 “Absolutely,” you reply in a heartbeat, despite loving Namjoon like he was your family. You adore him but you cannot stand him at times and ever since this little thing with Hoseok had started, he had not stopped teasing you. It’s time for him to suffer. 

 “Hear me out,” Hoseok moves closer to you, as if he is about to share a conspiracy theory that no one except you is allowed to know about. “How about we go to the party and stay there a bit - laugh at the idiots, dance to bad music - just a regular Thursday. And then, when the shitshow starts, and it will start, we go upstairs and seal the deal?” 

 “You want us to fuck in Namjoon’s house?” you start laughing. 

 “Is there anything that would annoy and traumatize him more than knowing two of his closest friends fucked in his house?” he points out. 

 “Yeah, if he walks in,” you burst out laughing. “Honestly, sold. Fuck it.” 

 “I plan to,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you in the most sleazy manner possible - jokingly, of course. He knows he has you hooked and he can play around with it. And you’ll love it. 

 “Ugh, stop doing that,” you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder again. “Don't try too hard, you already have me, blondie.” 

 “I look that good, huh?” he laughs, hitting the bullseye. 

 You don’t answer that question - you offer him nothing more than a smile and a shrug before you slowly walk past him and make your way to a class you’re probably already late for. He knows you enough to realize that to you, yes, he does look that good. And you cannot wait to find out what other things he can do to you, hoping that the movie is as promising as the trailer was. 

  Standing across the room, Hoseok keeps his eyes glued to you, the same way he did from the moment you entered the house. You aren’t hiding from it either - you make direct eye contact with him, smiling in a knowing manner as you listen to whatever it is that Taehyung was yapping on about. You tried to listen - you really did, at first. But the problem is that Hoseok’s very presence demands your attention - it’s something you can’t control. If he’s around, if he’s in the room and if you have this feeling of the two of you alone knowing something, knowing this secret about what’s going to happen tonight - no one else stands a chance, not even your friends.

 “Are you seriously ogling Hoseok while I’m asking you for relationship advice?” Taehyung sounds exasperated and you feel guilty - even more so when you realize that the only reason he did manage to get your attention was because he had mentioned his name. 

 “Ugh, I’m so sorry Tae,” you don’t try to defend yourself, knowing you’re guilty as charged. “My mind is a mess, I’m a useless friend. I just… can’t focus on anything else,” you admit sheepishly, not really wanting to go into details. They know that something is happening and that’s it. You don’t want to share more, neither does Hoseok, nor do you think any of your friends is particularly thirsty for details. Except perhaps Jimin, but tough luck for him. 

 “Then go!” Tae urges you and for a moment, you think that he is angry at you - the urgency with which he said it makes you wonder if he’s pissed with you for not listening to him carefully - but when you look up at him, you see his signature smile. He’s not angry - he’s cheering you on. “Go and get your guy!” 

 You want to  sigh, roll your eyes and remind him that Hoseok is not your guy - but in a weird, fucked up way that only you and him understand, he kind of is. It’s you he’s looking at - not any other girl, and there are plenty. It’s you he’s had his eyes on ever since he first saw you - it’s you he’s waiting for. 

 So you go for it - the same way you did the night it all started. Without thinking twice about it, you approach him, walking through a crowd of people to get to him - his eyes follow you every step of the way, standing straighter as you finally get to him, mere inches separating the two of you. 

 It’s electric. The feeling between the two of you, it’s purely electric, making you wonder if he’d burn to the touch if you were to reach out. In your mind, he always was the epitome of the Sun, so it wouldn’t be no surprise. You notice his smile despite not breaking eye contact - he smiles at you with them too, the signature wrinkles appearing on the edges. 

 “Well, don’t you look lovely tonight,” he tells you, giving you a quick once over. “Black has always suited you.” 

 “Now’s the time when I say something quirky yet charming like, ‘it matches my soul’,” you joke, laughing along with him. “Thank you - I had to dress in my finest, seeing as it’s a special occasion after all.” 

 “Is it?” he laughs. “I thought it was just a Spring Cleaning party.” 

 “Hoseok…” you shoot him a warning glare. 

 “I’m just messing with you,” he laughs, pointing out the obvious. “Can I… kiss you?” 

 This question takes you by surprise - you have decided to be public with whatever the hell this thing is - simply to avoid confusion, especially since you’ve agreed that you won’t be sleeping with other people while this deal of yours is standing. It’s a nice surprise, though - the fact that he still wants to ask, the fact that he is making sure that you are comfortable with it - whether it’s with the kiss itself or it being in public. It warms your heart to know that even though you had never planned any of this with him, he ended up being the right choice. 

 “Hobi, honestly, we’re past the point where you need to ask,” you admit, wanting him to know that you’re not going to back out and that you do feel comfortable. 

 He says nothing, instead deciding to kiss you immediately. It’s slow and gentle, lazy and languid, in a way that shows no rush or urgency. It’s obvious that he is enjoying it, and so are you, every move of his tongue against yours, every breath of yours that mingles with his. To the two of you, the rest of the room no longer exists - the sounds toned out, the people long forgotten. It’s almost as if it’s you and you alone - and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You move your body closer to his, anchoring your hands around his neck as you press against his front - as you have found out, making out with Hoseok has plenty of merits, and one of the bigger ones is simply the feel of his body against yours. 

 His hands wander, slowly and likely aware of the audience around you - it’s highly unlikely that anyone spared you more than a glance, but despite what it feels like in your mind, you are definitely not alone. So when his fingers graze your ass, he doesn’t grab it firmly like you know he’d like to - he simply rests his hand there, with pressure that promises that there’s more in his mind than a simple touch. You know very well that if the two of you don’t slow down soon, he’ll pop a boner in the middle of Namjoon’s kitchen and even though you’re hardly keeping this a secret, that would likely be a bit too much for him to handle. 

 With your mind heading in that direction, you begrudgingly stop the kiss, but you don’t move too far away from him - your hands still around his neck and his hands still on your ass. For what seems like minutes, neither of you says a word, simply looking at each other, your eyes scanning the face of the other - the way his lips are wet and how he nervously licks at them, the way his cheeks also changed shades (and you know alcohol is not to blame for it) and the glint in his eye that likely mirrors yours, with both of you knowing what’s in the other one’s head. Tonight is the night, the night you will finally seal the deal. 

 And if all goes well, start something that will make you explore things and areas you dared not speak of, much less try them before. All of it, from the sweetest and most romantic to the nastiest, kinkiest shit imaginable - you want to do it all with him and it’ll start tonight. 

 “So...” You start, in what you hope is a sexy voice. “Are we going to go and piss Joon off by fucking in his house?” you ask, making sure that the sexy voice you’re trying to use is also low enough for no one else but him to hear. You take it a step further, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want to suck you off before I ride you until I can no longer hold myself up. Then, I want you to fuck into me with all that strength you have and fill me up, watch the cum drip out of me and then watch me finger it back inside my cunt.” 

 Pulling away just in time to see him swallow a lump, you move one of your hands from around his neck, down his chest and stomach, very slowly, before grazing it over his already noticeable growing dick - you don’t tease him more than that, knowing that even though you might not feel them, you likely do have eyes on you by now - you simple careers the area where his jeans are starting to stand out, a sign of his eagerness that completely mirrors the way your underwear is sticking to your core. Both of you are horny as all hell and if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll jump his bones right here, right now, on Joon’s kitchen sink. 

 “How ‘bout I use my fingers to push the cum back inside you and when it dribbles out again, I eat you out until you want to scream my name but you can’t, ‘cause you’re sucking on my fingers, licking every drip of cum left on them?” he suggests and you for a second, you think your knees are going to give out and you’ll fall flat. You don’t, likely because he still has his hands pressed to your backside. 

 “Oh, I’d want nothing more,” you shamelessly admit. 

 “Then we’re not doing it here,” he announces, laughing at the immediate sulky reaction it elicited from you. “Don’t be like that, it’s better if we go to my place,” he chuckles at you, gently squeezing your butt. “I want us to enjoy the night, go for as many rounds as our bodies can take and then do it again in the morning. We can’t have that here while some freshman is doing a keg stand and anyone can walk in on us at any second. We can piss Joon off later - but it’s the first time we’re gonna do it and damn it, I wanna do it right.” 

 “You wanna do it right?” your eyebrows rise. 

“I could stand here all night and list all the things that I want to do to you, and you to me, and still remember more on the way home - and we’ve already discussed a bunch. I want to treat you good and give you the best fuck of your life - I promised as much and I want to deliver. We can fuck in Joon’s house any other day, honestly.” 

 “Do you want to… use something tonight?” you ask, pressing your hand against his crotch a little bit harder this time. “I have some toys back at my place but we won’t be alone there.” 

 “Nah,” he shakes his head immediately. “I have my cock, mouth and fingers - I don’t need much else to make you want to never do anyone else. We’ll have plenty of time for all the toys - and when I say all, I mean all. I’d go for anything with you.” 

 “If you keep talking like that, I’m just going to cum right here, right now,” you admit. 

 “While that would be a sight for sore eyes, I have other plans. Let’s go,” he takes you by the hand and away you go, making your way through the crowd, not caring if anyone notices how quickly you’re leaving or how you’re walking hand in hand. 

 You simply don’t give a shit, at all. All you care about is Hoseok right now - his dick, mouth and fingers and all the things he plans to do with them. 

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts smut #hoseok fanfic #hoseok series #bts fanfic #bts series #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet

[haechanokeh]

I'm Right For You [pt.9]

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning (general): corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

[teaser] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]

when mark said that he will not touch you, he failed again. you're sore everywhere and exhausted.

"y/n?" mark poked your cheeks but you didn't respond at all or move an inch. you're weightlessly lying on top of him, cheek squished against his hard chest, arms on each side of his head, and legs spread, dick still touching your stickiness. you can still that the mixed liquids are dripping from you and mark also can feel it.

he played the tips of your hair.

"i love you." he whispered on top of your head and gave it a kiss.

"-mm too." you mumbled. he grinned as he fined it cute.

his phone suddenly rang and it wasn't that far so he reached for it. it's his mom. mark answered the call.

"mom?" he answered with forehead wrinkled in curiosity. it made you flinched and made you panic, you stopped yourself from cursing and was about to get off from mark's body but his hand on top of your lower back pushed you down preventing you from moving.

"stay still." he said with his commanding tone. so you did yet hoping that his mom didn't hear him.

"mark, where are you? your classmates are already here, they told me you weren't in class? what happened?" you could hear the concerned mother from the phone. your heart beating fast in panic and nervousness.

shit, they already knew he skipped class?

"where are my classmates? what do you mean?" mark ignore his mother's question on what happened why he's not in classes.

"we have worship service today mark, remember? you even invited your classmates"

you saw mark squeezed his nose bridge, brows furrowed, and he looked like he screwed up. it felt like you're at fault, if only you stopped mark from bringing you here and just pushed him to attend class. the truth was you loved the idea of staying alone with mark but now you could tell, it wasn't a good idea.

"mom, i'm sorry i forgot. it's because..." his eyes landed on you. mark saw your guilty face. he gave you a reassuring smile and caressed your cheeks. "have the headache today, i'm feeling under the weather mom. sorry."

he lied. you bit your lower lip. mark is a devoted christian and he will never lie about this kind of matter.

"oh my, okay okay. do you want us to go there?" his mom asked, totally fell from his son. mark's mom knew his son as someone who will lie and mark never skipped the worships unless he's sick.

"no, mom i'm fine. just have to rest." he replied. his mom told him to get enough sleep before she hangs up. mark placed his phone beside him.

"mark, you did not attend your worship." you were obviously guilty. "we should've gone to school."

mark didn't like the mood you're giving him, he translated it as if you regretted spending your day with him, alone. he also doesn't like that you're blaming yourself.

"but i got to spend my time alone with you, there's nothing wrong with it." mark smiled at you. his smiles always make your heart flutter but, this one... it's strange. "we don't have to worry about anything, won't go to hell for my absence in worship and my grades won't fall for skipping for a day." mark tucked some strand of hair in your face and tucked it behind your ear. there's no guilt or remorse for skipping two things that his world used to revolve into.

"you and me, that's only matters, hmm? do you not like being with me, y/n?" mark eyes were dark and icy, he smiled but it was cold. it made your blood run cold. he was asking you but he clearly was ordering you to answer him what he wanted to hear from you.

but it's taking you so long, mark looked slightly upset.

"y/n?" his hand grabbed your cheeks and squeezed it but it didn't hurt you, it was playfully but it felt like your heart was stabbed by cold spiked ice.

"yes." finally respond to him with a forced smile.

maybe he's lying, maybe he's just making me feel less bad.

you locked your front door and get inside in mark's car.

"how's your sleep." he started to drive the car.

"insufficient, i still want to sleep." you yawned. mark looked at you.

"do you want to sleep in my condo or your house?" he said.

"what? no, i'm good. i'll just sleep in class." you joked. mark smiled but he knew you will really fall asleep especially during pharma marketing.

"so, does your mom know that i exist?" mark changed the subject. you went silent. "no plans in introducing me to your mother?" he was calmly laughing but he's slightly upset.

"ahm no, well... she doesn't even know i gave friends but ahm, if she has a chance to meet ahm..." he touched your hand and squeezed it.

"relax, i know your mom is very busy." mark intertwined your hands with his. you're staring at him.

he's switching mood so fast.

"you're not yet even my girlfriend... yet." he added. he glanced at me and raised his brow but smirking.

"you can ask me again though..." you lowered your voice but you made sure that he will hear it.

his head quickly turned to you and you burst into laughter when you saw his eyes bulging out.

"yow, dude are you serious?!" his voice cracked and you couldn't stop laughing. you nodded your head.

"but mark if you want me to be your girlfriend, don't call me dude. okay?" you teased him.

"then can I be your girlfriend-- wait what?" both of you looked confused.

"mark!" you threw your head back and shaking in laughter.

"I mean, can you be my girlfriend, dang it." you chuckled and squeezed his hand.

"yes." your eyes were locking. "but eyes on the road."

"oh, yes! right!" he panicked.

it's been only 1 hour after you officially became his girlfriend but he's already pouting.

"mark, we should be careful. i don't like to be the center of attention just because you're my boyfriend." you said.

he stayed silent. well, he kept on insisting that both of you enter the school at the same time but you decline it because it's better if one of you go first just to avoid suspicion.

"I'm going first, okay?" you gave him a calming smile but it didn't reach him. he just stared at the steering wheel. you sighed and just stepped out of the car.

when you entered the room, same morning, no one greets you because the only person who greets you was sulking in his car. you sat on your usual chair, your class has no fix seating arrangement but everyone knows that the corner on the fourth row is your seat.

"hey." you looked up and saw lucas sitting beside you.

"hey." you smiled at him.

"where were you yesterday?" he put down his bag. you already prepared your excuse.

"fetch my mom in the airport." though your mom use land transpo.

"oh, i see well mark is absent to- oh hey dude." lucas offered his hand to mark for hand shake.

you looked up, he's infront of you but he's staring at lucas with his emotionless face. lucas fingers where slowly folding because it seems like mark will not take it.

"move, that's my seat." mark's voice was frosty and slightly loud but it didn't raise a pitch.

"dude, you seat everywhe-" lucas didn't finish his word when mark grabbed his shirt. he was looking up to mark who's standing and towering him.

everyone was alarmed and stood from their seats, including you.

"mark, calm down..." everyone was trying to pull you away from him, some were trying to remove his hand from lucas' shirt.

"mark!" you grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from lucas who's stop dead in track on the seat.

"you thought you can have her just because everyone kept on saying that you and y/n look good together, that doesn't mean you can have her! stay away from my girlfriend!" he spat harshly. everyone saw the mark that they never expect to meet, eyes dark and glaring.

your jaw dropped when he announced your relationship that wasn't supposed to be revealed.

"mark!" you stomp on your feet and tried to pull his arms once more. "mark, let's talk!"

some of your classmates were staring at you and you started to over analyze it. your felt embarrassed and in verge of crying.

"mark, please." you voice was shaking and tears started to fell from your eyes.

when mark heard that voice he quickly went back in his senses and looked at you. he freed lucas and forget that they exist. mark was about to cup your face but you stepped back.

"let's talk, outside."

mark followed you until you reach the front gate of your school. you brought your bag because you haven't remove it from your back and so was he.

"what was that?" you angrily turned to face him.

"he likes you, but he doesn't like you like ido-"

"i don't care about him!" you raised your voice. mark was surprised from your voice and angry face. your chest was heaving and nose flaring, you face is also redden in anger.

you know that lucas doesn't like you anyway which made you angry more.

"i told you, we're not supposed to tell them that we're together."

"i didn't agree, because if i agree with you, that boy will try ask you out." he pointed his finger to you. "why are you so mad, i just tried to warn him."

"you just made a scene mark! that's not you!" you pointed your finger back at him.

"and you're not suppose to be talking to anyone or get too close to anyone because that's not you. i am the only one who talks to you, all these years i am the only one who notices you and they never did so i don't understand how did lucas casually sitting on the seat beside you which is by the way my seat." he growled, his face was inches away from you but his breath fanning your face. he was fuming in anger.

"you are mine, they are not like what you think they are. they are bunch of losers, blood suckers. i lied when i said that they want to befriend you, they never mention you because they don't care. i am the only person who tried to get close to you so fucking stay away from them!" he shouted.

you flinched. you were staring at him as if you're looking for something... or someone.

"who are you?" you whispered. "where's the mark that everybody loves? the kind mark that i always look up to?"

mark face slowly soften when he realized what kind of behavior he was giving you.

"you only like me because i'm kind." he looked disappointed. again, he wasn't supposed to feel that way.

"no, i love you because you're lovely." you sobbed. you bit your lip and burst into tears. you shook your head. "don't go after me." you were dead serious and walked away from him.

✨if you want to be added in I’m Right For You Tag List, you can DM or Ask me so i can add you ✨

Tag List: @babylion-mork @lalaname @cloudykeiji @jjikyuu @sunshinedhyuck @wassup-haeyadwae @mrklyy @resceluwu @jenonctcity @wanlore @watermelonlovermark @erisxczenie

#mark lee angst #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #mark lee fanfic

[botwstoriesandsuch]

hey Kip! I’m sending asks into different writer’s askboxes, inquiring about cool themes/development facts/stuff the author wants to share about their personal favorite work of their own. What’s yours? :)

Ok so this ask is old and when I first got it I was like “dang I don’t really have a lot to talk about, what should I talk about I could those revalink headcanons the Kip Cut that turned into a working fic uhh hmm maybe I’ll just make something new to talk about real quick” and then I did and now there is a 12+ chapter Revalink fic in my drafts and I’m gonna talk about that now, whoopsie doopsie [click "j" to skip]

aHEM, OK so allow me to break out the primary school white board because yeah, I have a lot of thoughts and the oxford comma has not yet made it’s home into my brain. oh and spoilers for paraphrase. for both all of Chapter one and future events in later chapters, but it’s really nothing you couldn’t surmise from the AO3 tags

so I really wanted to tell the story of Revali and Link learning and struggling to love again after the less-than-fortunate events of Botw, but I wanted a...how you say...fresher, approach on the subject? Like I know we always say that fanfic writers writing the same tropes and stories time and time again is good because we eat that shit up--but at the same time I had asian parenting as was told never to half ass anything ever, no matter what. So now I'm gay and extra and have depression maybe and oh would you look at that @motherhyrule has dropped a beautiful revalink prompt right into my lap

Great so now that we have, that, I shall take you on the step by step process on how to make a :sparkles: story. So step one is to spend at least five to eleven business days for your white board to dismantle your genre and themes and work them around your character arcs. Luckily I have prepared one ahead of time

s*breaks out those laser pointers that uni professors use* So let's start with defining genre. As define because I HATE you, fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff, fuck you and yours

is the set of expectations that your audience has when consuming a piece of media

And the great thing about fanfiction is that unlike movies or book where the genres are more vague like, "oh it's a noir mystery genre. so there's a crime, maybe a murder, and a detective and a criminal." or "oh it's a teen romance. so there's some white people and a morally questionable six-pack 18 year old love interest that will be painted as desirable for some reason" BUT with fanfiction HALF of the work out the window, because as soon as you see those #revalink #aro sidon #zelpha #revali is an idiot and #found family tags you already know what's up.

Now what's so great about genre and expectation? Well the fun thing about it is that

I will use it to fucking break you.

... ... ...

<3 For example! <3

In Chapter 1: Holes, you already expect there to be revalink, you already expect them to be soulmates with the soulmarks and there's angst and yadayada ya. Revali and Link have to match because thatttss what this is all about, this is about them! This is about cute, little soulmarks and romantic words!

But whoooopsie doopsie [disney channel laugh track plays] they DON'T match anymore! Link's got a different mark! The number one rule of this entire genre has been broken whoooooooooooooooops. *ba dum tiss*

You might notice with a lot of my writing that I do this a lot, this whole..."oop but there's one little thing that's different." TebaSaki sick fic? Ok cool, but what if Teba burns an irreplaceable relic of the Rito champion to fight a wizzrobe first to characterize why his dumbass clicks with Saki. Mipha deciding to persue Link? Ok what if she chases after a dragon to externalize this conflict as she pierces it's flesh for a scale. Link fighting a Lynel? Ok but what if it's actually a sidlink angst fic in disguise and it's also world building on how Link deals with the bloodmoon that erases all of his efforts which is sort of similar to how his existence was erased from Hyrule 100 years ago mwaahahaha! Ok now that I say this outloud I think I just have a pattern of using fight scenes to externalize character growth. I like fight scenes...anyways.

I think another great thing about the realm of fanfiction is that with the tagging system, I can basically use a chekhov's gun sort of deal, without doing any writing. You know I'm gonna use that gun marked "soulmates" but you don't know when I'm gonna shoot it, and you SURE as hell don't know how.

And huzzah! One of the main points of conflict both drives the tension between Revali and Link, solidifies the unique genre and setting of this world, while also creating a new mystery that will carry over for the next few chapters.

Is Revali right in that Link's rebirth makes him destined for someone new now? What will Link do with the information that his soulmark has changed? Why did it change? Did Revali's change as well? How does anything fucking work right now?

And sure, you might be able to tell where things will end with them, but you sure as fuck will not know how because I HATE you. Fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff. I am not your goddamn fairy godmother, I will do as I fucking please. You will suffer as you fucking deserve, fuck you and your little tiny--

/j

Oh! But you might have noticed on my little planning whiteboard thing that there was a little T-Chart! For Revali and Link! That's because the next important thing besides plot (and in a lot of cases, including this one, it's argued to be even MORE important than plot) is

~CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT~

[to the tune of that history of the world video on youtube]

So yes, it's a little T-Chart outlining their character views in relation to the themes. And the great thing about themes is that they're not something you can necessarily predict in the same way you can with the genre and plot.

But now see, I'm very lazy so I'm just gonna plagiarize @hyrule-kingdom-updates thingy [that you should read btw] because they said my point quite clear enough

Now I don't really need to care about those points about bond and relationships and being understood, because I'm dealing with already established canon characters. I'm not some NERD who dabbles with entire casts of ocs who even cares about ocs not me that's for sure ahaahahaahahahahahaahahahahahAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *cries in my orphaned WTTU fic* AHAHAHA*sobs*DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME THAT WAY I SWEAR--

/j I love ocs

But the points I do wanna focus on is the idea that characters provide new perspectives on the theme, and that characters growth can be tracked based on their wants, lies, and needs.

So see, themes can be predicted the same as genre/plot because while you can have the same fanfic plots and tropes, theme will always vary!

Sometimes it's a journey of selfworth with Revali! Sometimes it's an exploration of trauma with Link. Sometimes it's about how you deal with the vulnerabilities of love with Mipha. Sometimes there's straight up NOOOO theme, and people just be fucking, and kissing, and baking, and having a good time. And that is totally fine too!

But I'm not a fucking coward.

I'm gonna weave in themes with my plot, because I fucking can.

I'm not a weakling like you.

Do you hear me, 2019 Kip? Do you hear me Demmers? Do you hear me Quill? I'm coming for your ass. You think you're so great, but I'm coming for you. Rest assured that your graves will be as deep as your sculptured pride--

Heeeere is that T-Chart again, plus more!

yyyyyYou might notice that Revali and Link are quite parallel, to paraphrase. Ayoooo, see what I did there? *dabs* I'm a genius. Anywho

They both start off the same way: 100 years ago they were in love and happy. Basically the equivalent of childish naivety. For the first time in their lives, life is whimsical and charming, and they make each other happy. In fact, it's almost a flaw with how they perceive this happiness. But don't worry! It doesn't last long!

You know what happens.

I think the chart is pretty self explanatory. Revali builds walls fast enough to give a republican a wet dream. Meanwhile Link makes every aromantic in the chat groan with his doubled down sentiments in the idea that his chances of being truly happy again are gone.

Now, I can't exactly describe the full on process of the inbetweens, and where Revali and Link are gonna go from here, because...you have to read it for yourself! Heehee...but something I did think was fun was how these character views on the themes are revealed. Because you'll notice that, I never give exposition. Ever.

Ok well, let me rephrase that. I never give exposition scenes. I will never give you a big LOTR fancy wizard scene explaining the ins and outs of a character's question or the world's magic or whatever. I'm a very impatient Kip, and I value efficiency. Nonono, it's all about multi tasking, baby!

Chapter 1: Holes is divided into three parts.

Post 100 Years - Medoh (Establishes Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view)

100 Years Ago - Flight Range (Establishes old Revalink views)

Post 100 years - Mark (Develops Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view in contrast to who they once were)

I think the way that you structure flashbacks is incredible vital, as it's a very quick way to characterize people without having them say stuff like "I used to be like you, until I took an arrow to the knee" or whatever.

And with the main structure of the chapters and the fic as a whole is focus on their characters, that means I can hide whatever other stuff I want in those scenes, becuase you're too busy absorbing the fun character stuff to realizing I'm giving you boring exposition. Like for example:

Post 100 Years - Medoh and Mark

Foreshadowing for the end of the fic

Set up connection to Medoh with Revali

Link has defeated Windblight

Link has been visiting Revali every night for the past few days

Link has already met Kass and presumably Teba

Link doesn't have the Mastersword

Revali's Gale is still an ability that needs master and practice on Link's end

And that's just some of the stuff.

And see, the only reason I can efficiently give all of this information regarding character, and even exposition, is because of the theme. The themes make everything relevant, and everything circles and encompasses one another, so there's absolutely no wasted space. I mean don't even get me started on how it's gonna be to characterize the other characters around this

I don't wanna talk about the other characters too much either because that's spoilers, but you can probably take a gandar based on my notes.

And oh my god this is just on the theme of the faults that come with "soulmates" and "true love" and all that, and how even magical destined relationships still require work and effort, and that no one thing or person solves all your problems. And that's not even TOUCHING the shit on trauma and scars. I didn't think it was even possible for me to talk about botw without touching on that, ha. Ah well, I've been talking for too long.

Revalink has a lot o' writing potential so das pretty cool yeah, I am excite

#revalink #paraphrase revalink #writing

[tigerseye46]

A Hero Is Born (Red Shark/Sand Au)

Summary: After being dismissed by Guanyin after centuries under their teaching, Red arrived at the city to live a normal life, hiding his identity and powers. He has spent four years in the city and works at Culinary Cicada, content with how he is now. He didn’t expect his life to change one day.

A/N: Finally got this done. There are going to be rarepairs but aren’t the main focus for this chapter so I didn’t tag it. Sun Wukong’s alias is Sun Hàoyú 昊瑜 meaning “vast and limitless excellence.” Zhu Bajie’s alias is Zhu Xiùliàng 秀亮 meaning “refined light.” Sorry if these aren’t good aliases. I know Sha Wujing’s staff can’t control water, but in this au, it can. He learned how to do that after the journey. Also I want to say thank you all my anons and others who put in ideas for this au! It made it really fun! Anyway enjoy!

AO3 Link

Red would admit he didn’t care much for the legends as other people did. He had been a small part of those legends so they weren’t extraordinary to him (not that he had revealed that information to anyone). 

But Mr. Sun and Tang always loved to talk about them, especially the latter, so he listened to the elders. Today was one of those days. A special day that would change his life forever. 

“The thing you need to understand, bud, is that the old legends are never finished. While there may be no pages left to turn, there is always more. Years ago, the Spider Queen and her army attacked. No one could stop them, no one except… Sha Wujing. Using his crescent moon spade, he trapped the Spider Queen under a mountain. He made it so no one else could wield it and he trapped her forever.”

“With the battle won, Sha Wujing… disappeared and was never seen again. It is said that the spade remains there, preventing our world from being destroyed. Because of him, civilization was able to prosper into the awesome world we see today. All thanks to Sha Wujing!”

Red hummed as he leaned against the counter. “That’s cool I guess.”

Mr. Sun scoffed. “Just cool? You know how many people would love that story?”

“I’m just not that impressed by it.”

“How dare you. You always react to the stories that way. Thought that one would bring more excitement.”

“Well, I’m not your audience. You’re not putting on a play for me.”

“At least you listen anyway.”

“That I do. I do think Sha Wujing is more impressive than say the Sun Wukong or Zhu Bajie.” At least he didn’t attack him as much as the others.

Sun appeared as if he was offended by the statement. “He is impressive… I like the Monkey King better,” he muttered. “Anyway, you know the deal. One peach soup.”

“Yea, yea. You got it.” He attempted to pass the bowl but it was quickly taken away by Tang.

“Not so fast. You left out so many details, Hàoyú. No extensive details of how he defeated the Spider Queen? He’s a hero! He deserves a better explanation than that.”

With an eye roll, Hàoyú responded, “Whatever.” He made grabby hands at the bowl. “Can I have my soup now?”

“No. You’re a scholar, tell the story accurately or I might go to your rival.” Sun huffed at the mention. “I could do better, better than those stupid depictions of Sha Wujing, no one can really capture his handsomeness, huh?” He cleared his throat, the small blush on his cheeks fading away. “Anyway, Red, you have orders to take out. Get to it!”

“I was about to take my break.”

“Break? You've been taking a break all morning. How is Culinary Cicada supposed to flourish if you’re slacking off?”

He began pushing Red, rumpling the other’s lotus print shirt. He shoved takeout bags in his hands then sent him out. The human heard a slurp behind him. He spun around to see Sun had stolen the soup back. Furrowing his brows, he suggested, “How about you tell an actually good and detailed story about Sha Wujing and you keep the bowl?”

“You just love hearing about your crush. Alright, it’s a deal.”

————

Red entered an abandoned construction site, whistling a tune under their breath and focusing on their phone. He paused when he heard a voice. “It’s amazing that you’ve finally done it! Are you ready, you two?”

A nasally voice replied, “For the last time, Goliath, we’re almost done.”

“Sorry, Syntax! I’m just so excited!”

“You can’t blame uncle Goliath’s excitement, dad.”

“Hmph. Well, try to hold it in for a bit longer.”

The demon hid behind some rocks. He spotted three spiders and a human surrounding a mountain.

One spider towered over the group, he fiddled with his fingers nervously, indicating that despite being the giant, he was probably the most gentle one out there.

Another had his hands behind his back, tapping his feet impatiently.

The third was tinkering with an invention, a device strapped to his back. The human was beside the third, he had a purple bandanna with two green marks, almost like eyes, wrapped around his forehead and a black coat with white fur.

“Because of you two, we can lift Sha Wujing’s spade!”

Red moved higher up and looked at the glowing object. The duck beside him quacked out of surprise. What was a duck doing here? Whatever. It wasn’t important.

“Sha Wujing’s spade,” he whispered.

“The spider clan will be restored!” Goliath’s shoulders briefly bounced up in surprise. “Huh?”

Huntsman was on top of the mountain and started reaching for the weapon. “Huntsman,” Syntax yelled. “Don’t do that!”

“Whatever, nerd.” He gripped it and instantly got zapped by it which sent him crashing into a wall.

Syntax stood over him. “Idiot. This is the hundredth time you’ve tried this. You think you would have learned your lesson by now. We’ve clarified that he made it so only someone worthy would wield it.”

“Which is why we have this.” The human gestured to the power glove. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

“Hmph, brat.”

“Go ahead, Xiaotian.” Syntax pulled Huntsman up, their cheeks becoming green for the slightest second before they focused on the kid.

Xiaotian strolled up to the weapon and pulled on it with the glove. Sparks danced until he was able to rip it off. He held it high in the air and shouted in triumph, “Look at what I did!” Goliath and Syntax applauded him while Huntsman huffed.

“I could have done it,” he mumbled.

Xiaotian went back up to his family with a smile and waited a second before asking, “Wait, why isn’t anything happening? Are you three sure this is the right mountain?”

Syntax scoffed. “No, Xiaotian, I think it’s the other one.”

The mountain rumbled and cracked in the center. The Spider Queen destroyed it and crawled out with a cackle. “I’ve returned! The queen is back!”

Red’s eyes widened. Oh no. The queen was free. What should he do?

The duck pecked his hands as he was pondering. “Hey!” He attempted to shoo the duck away. “Shoo! It’s rude to peck at people’s hands!”

The four bowed to her with heads hung low, the human placed the crescent moon spade aside. “My queen,” Huntsman started. “We’re glad to have you free.”

“My clan,” she cried. “Wait, where are the rest of you?”

“I’m sorry. We’re some of the few spiders left.”

The Queen’s fist clenched, her happy tone at being freed slipped away. “I see. It’s all Sha Wujing’s fault. Now introductions are in order for the new members.”

“Well, there’s me, Huntsman. Then there’s Goliath and…”

“I can introduce myself, brute. I’m Syntax, my lady, and this is my son, Qi Xiaotian.”

If Red wasn’t so focused on the situation, he would have thought, Son? Those two look nothing alike.

“Son?” Her majesty questioned.

“Yes, he is my biological son. I wasn’t born a spider but I would say those details are for another time.”

“Alright. How did you all manage to free me?”

The human stepped forward with a spring in his step. “I did it, my queen! I managed to harness its power to make it our-” Her majesty loomed with a glare. Xiaotian nervously chuckled. “Our power,” he finished.

With a scoff, the queen congratulated him reluctantly, “Good job… for a human.”

Ignoring the human comment, he beamed. “Thank you! Now, we, the Spider clan, can rule the world!”

The duck continued to peck at the demon. The demon flapped a hand to get rid of the sting while the bird focused on the other one and made him fall right onto Qi Xiaotian.

Red held up the bag of food. “Hey… did someone order food?”

Huntsman and Syntax stared at Goliath. “What? I didn’t order anything.”

Xiaotian shoved him. “Get off me, dumbass! You ruined my moment!”

Spider Queen focused on the intruder. “Well, well, we’ll, an eavesdropper has fallen into our midst. It’s a shame to crush such a tiny, insignificant thing like you as my first act but, oh, what can you do?” She was about to crush them when she was interrupted.

“Wait, my queen.”

Ugh, the human. She rubbed her face. “Yes?”

“You don’t have to waste your energy. I’ll handle it! Allow me to prove myself!”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

Red muttered, “Maybe I can go now.”

“You’re fortunate, grocery boy. It’s not every day someone is crushed by the Spider Clan! You should consider yourself-”

The demon’s ears picked up a sound, his gaze drifted to the staff. “Sha Wujing’s staff,” a voice whispered.

Xiaotian growled, “You’re not listening! I, Qi Xiaotian, will not be disrespected! You’re toast!”

The human attempted to punch him with the glove but he blocked it… blocked it with the crescent moon staff. Fuck. “How did you?”

How did he? He could have used his fire to block it. Why didn’t he? Well, his identity was a secret and he barely used his fire since he became Guanyin’s disciple so that was understandable. But to grab the staff, what was he thinking?

“That’s scientifically impossible,” Syntax said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening but I don’t care. That’s ours!”

“I was supposed to be on my break! Dang it, Mr. Tang!” The weapon activated and whacked the human and the spiders (save the queen) away.

“This can’t be,” her majesty muttered in disbelief.

“That was not what I expected.”

Huntsman hissed, “That doesn’t belong to you. Give it to us!”

“Ummmm… no?” Then suddenly he was launched into the air by the weapon. “AHHHHHH!”

“He can’t leave with the damn thing!”

“I was trapped under a mountain and suddenly, a thief takes it!”

Xiaotian bowed. “Allow me, your majesty. I won’t fail again.”

“Fine! Go!”

The human grabbed his technological staff and made off in his motorcycle to give chase.

-------

Red took in deep breaths to calm himself down as he landed on the ground. Xiaojiao snapped a picture of herself with her sword and motorcycle outfit. During the picture, she used her magic to create sparkles. “Nailed it!” She pocketed her phone and put the sword away.

“Xiaojiao!”

“That was a cool game of tag! You looked like you were having fun! I wanted to join in too!”

“I almost died.”

“But you didn’t! We should go to the arcade! Invite your new friend!”

“He was trying to kill me.”

Her face turned dark. “Where does he live? I’ll handle him.”

“Red Son! Where are you?” Tang stormed up to them. He showed his phone to reveal a zero-star rating. “I got a zero-star rating because of you. Would you like to explain yourself?”

“I think what happened is-”

Xiaojiao giggled. “Congrats, Tang! It’s better than nothing!”

“No, it isn’t! You know you would be in trouble if this happened to my magic shop, missy. Now, Red, you’re-” Tang searched around. “Where did he go?”

Red slipped past him. “Mr. Sun!”

“Hey! Come back here!”

Ignoring him, the demon ran into the shop. “Mr. Sun!”

Hàoyú was in the middle of his bowl. “Yea?”

“So, remember the story you told me this morning? About the Spider Queen?”

Tang and Mei followed him. “Red, we weren’t done talking.”

“Yea, that’s great, Mr. Tang.”

Sun sipped his soup, completely disinterested. “Yea? What about her?”

Red got close to his face. “She’s back! Sha Wujing’s staff was removed! We have to find him! He has to save-”

Sun pushed him back and held his bowl protectively. “You’re getting spit in my soup. Calm down. Who knew that would be the story you get wrapped up in? Relax, it’s just a story.”

“It’s not just a story.” He showed the spade. Hàoyú pursed his lips, contemplating the possibility or holding back from saying something snarky, Red wasn’t sure.

“Wow, Red, you found a stick!”

“No! It belongs to Sha Wujing!” The three burst into laughter. Red growled, his fists briefly flamed but no one noticed except him. “Listen to me! The Spider Queen is out there. I’ll prove this belongs to Sha Wujing.”

Sun raised a brow. “Okay. How?”

“Ummm…” The spade wobbled, it grew then stabbed part of the wall, causing a crack before shortening.

Sun gasped and he was about to get a closer look when Tang pushed him away. Tang grabbed the arm holding the spade and hoisted it up towards the sky. His eyes twinkled. “Sha Wujing’s spade! I knew it! His awesome weapon that he used to seal evil! Wait… why do you have it? And where is the queen now?”

“She’s at a fashion store,” Mei responded.

“What?!”

“I hope this isn’t one of your puppy videos, young lady.”

“There’s always time for a puppy video, Tangy, but no. Look at what’s trending. Hashtag Spider Queen!” She showed a video of the Spider Queen robbing a fashion store with Qi Xiaotian. The queen used some device to absorb a one-of-a-kind item.

Tang panicked when the video ended. “Okay! We have to do something! Get in the truck!” He shoved them in the truck while they shouted out of surprise.

The group yelped as Tang drove like a madman through the streets. They were squished in the car, Red rasped out, “This is a little uncomfortable.”

“Tang! Can you slow down? You’re going to kill us,” Mr. Sun told him. He couldn’t die but he knew it would be unfortunate if the group got into a crash.

“Yea. We need to get to Sha Wujing without getting injured in a crash.”

“Guys! The Spider Queen moved downtown! She’s destroying the mall!”

“We need to get to Sha Wujing fast. The only problem is we have no idea how to get there.”

“Ugh, you’re right. How do we get there? Do we just keep driving?” Tang asked in a frantic tone.

Mr. Sun replied, “Well, if you would have let me talk before you pushed us in here. I know someone who could get us there!”

“Really?”

“Yep! An old friend of mine. The greatest, excellent, glorious Zhu Xiùliàng. Now drive there, Tang!”

“Drive where?”

“Uhhhh… oh, yea, you need directions.”

-------

The group watched kids climb on the tall pig like a jungle gym while others were in the corner conversing or doing other activities. Wukong had a big grin on his face at the scene.

Xiùliàng chuckled and cautioned, “Careful, little ones.” He gently put them down, they frowned and he reassured them, “You can play later. Grandpa has to talk to these people first.” They reluctantly agreed and began breaking away to do their own things.

Sun blushed as the light hit Xiùliàng in a way that illuminated his beauty. Tang whispered to him with a smirk, “Oh, now I know why you brought us here.”

Xiaojiao teased, “Wow, Mr. Sun. We have to save the world and here you are trying to pick up a guy. I see you.” Sun shot them both a glare.

The pig didn’t hear them, he instead focused on beaming at the kids as they walked away. A hand was placed on his hips and he turned to the group with a “Sorry about that. That’s a lot to take in.”

“It most certainly is, old friend. I was hoping something like this wouldn’t happen,” he muttered.

“I was hopin’ that too,” Xiùliàng muttered back. A child with black hair tied up in braids and a blue headband with a flower ran up to the pig with a drawing in hand. “What is it, Yǎshuǐ?” He picked her up so she rested on her arm.

“I made you a drawing, grandpa!” She waved it in front of the pig’s face then looked towards the group. Her eyes briefly widened in surprise before she gave a wave. “Hi, yéyé!”

“Hi, hon,” he greeted.

“Oooo, yéyé. Didn’t know you had grandkids with him,” he teased. “Why didn’t you invite me to your wedding and why didn’t the paparazzi cover it?”

“Shut up, Tang. It’s for respect, you know that.”

“Mhmm…”

Red shook his head. “Disregarding Mr. Sun’s love life,” he murmured. “Mr. Zhu, we need your help to find Sha Wujing.”

Xiaojiao got on her knees, bringing her friend down with her and pleaded, “Yea, we could really use your help.”

Red sighed. “Please help us. The fate of the world is at stake.”

“Alright,” he answered. “Really?”

“Of course. Anything for Sun.” The two cheered. “I’ll just drop these kids off then we’ll go.”

“WOOOOO!”

------

Tang hummed as he walked along the path, trying to contain his excitement. “See, this isn’t that bad,” he said then a trap sprung out of nowhere. “Eep! Never mind! Stupid Sun, stupid Zhu, why did we let them stay behind?”

“Because you said they could.”

“Careful, Tangy. I wonder why Sha Wujing chose to live here.”

“I don’t know. Good thing it isn’t Sun Wukong’s home or we would have to go pass the Flaming Mountains. They actually had to borrow my m- Princess Iron Fan’s fan to-”

A cackle came out of nowhere. Syntax appeared. “If it isn’t you three.” Syntax used the glove to pound at the ground, sending it up.

“Hey! Be careful, kids!”

“I’ll be taking that spade.”

Red held the weapon up. “This is Sha Wujing’s. You are not taking it.”

“You’re just a bunch of broken metal, can’t even make anything useful.” “What? Oh, whatever.” He charged at the spider who caught the spade with glove.

He was launched and heard the distant cry of “RED” as he blacked out.

------

The demon woke up on Sha Wujing’s mountain. “I’m… I’m here?” He stood up and started walking. He spotted a house and peeked inside but found no one so he continued onwards. There was a handmade statue of Tripitaka and Sha Wujing. “Wow.”

The sound of a twig snapping caught his attention. He saw the very person he was looking for glancing at him with a frown. “Huh?” Then the figure ran off.

He followed quickly and reached a river, a single fish. “A fish?” The fish jumped out of the water, a blue light surrounded it. “Ack!” The older demon appeared. “Sha Wujing?”

“It’s been a long time, Red Son or should I say, Red Boy?”

“You know it’s me?”

“You literally just switched the Boy to Son. No shit. Surprise your little friends haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Yea, I haven’t told them yet.”

“I know. Anyway, where’s my spade?”

“Oh… ummm… I’m sorry! I lost it. I was trying to bring it to you and-”

Wujing laughed. “I know. I’ve been watching you.”

“What?” He flashed back to some of the animals he saw. “That was you?”

“Yep. I need something of you, kid. I need you to be my successor.”

“What? Are you sure? Has your brain short circuited?”

“No,” he replied annoyed. “My brain is fine. You’re going to be my successor. Look you came all this way and were fine.”

“Because I’m a demon!”

“Regardless of that, you still made your way here and you’re experienced in fighting. Be a hero.”

“What about the Spider Queen?”

“What about the Spider Queen? Take it as a trial or a warmup.”

“But I-” He sighed, he was hoping he could lead a normal life but he supposed he had no other choice especially since the elder had no intent on helping. The elder was changed, certainly different from the demon who was considered more calm and rational.

Sha Wujing grunted. “What are one of those bullshit quotes I can give you? Oh, right. Believe in yourself and you’ll be fine. The spade was taken from you! Get it back!”

“Alright!” He zoomed off.

Wujing whispered, “Hope this makes you happy, master.”

-------

Xiaojiao was about to use her powers when Red Son crash landed. Red dusted himself off.

“Kid,” Tang yelled.

“Red,” Xiaojiao shouted. “You’re alive! We saw you blast off! We thought something happened to you! Where did you get the jet? You crashed it already! Did you find Sha Wujing?”

“Yep!”

Tang questioned as he looked around frantically, “Where is he?”

“He said it’s up to me, to all of us.” Sun and Zhu exchanged glances.

“What?”

“That’s anticlimactic.”

“How are we meant to fight that?” Sun motioned to the Spider Queen’s humongous form.

“We believe in ourselves. You clean the streets while I stop her… somehow.”

“The jet would have been useful.” She kicked the broken pieces and a speed bike was revealed.

“That works.”

“You can do it, pal!”

Red drove off and approached the queen. “If isn’t the thief trying to ruin my big moment.”  She attempted to squish him when he dodged with the bike.

“Where is it? Where is it?” He squinted at the device the queen had been using to absorb objects, the spade rested in the middle. “Here goes nothing.” He ran into it.

Xiùliàng covered the group. “I’ve won! The clan has been restored!” She stumbled. “Huh?” Red emerged with the weapon. “Sha Wujing?”

“Nope. Just Red.” Red punched her. Spider Queen tried to blast them, they dodged with taunts, “Nice try! You missed! Almost!” They pushed her down with the spade then used it to cut half of a building. “Here we go!”

As he was about to trap her, the Queen roared, “I won’t let this happen again!” She destroyed it, the younger demon was sent backwards. “Sorry, doll. Good luck trying to trap me again. I AM THE QUEEN!” Red’s gaze shot towards a body of water. “You might have that idiot’s staff but you are not Sha Wujing!”

“No, I’m not. I’m Red, his successor!” He lifted the spade up, water swirled around it and he sent it to attack the queen. “It’s time for your reign of terror to end!”

The queen gasped and her powers waned, she turned back to her normal form. “That’s impossible!”

“Nothing is impossible if you believe.” Xiaotian raged, “This isn’t over! You wouldn’t be so mighty with your precious powers, sand boy! Come fight me!”

Red was about to do when a web entangled him. The three spiders showed themselves. “Nice try. We know when to leave the party. We’ll see you,” Huntsman said. Syntax threw a smoke bomb and they disappeared.

The group cut Red free. “You can’t run when I’m about to win! Hmph.”

His friend hugged him. “You kicked SQ’s butt! Without us the city would be toast.”

“I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

Xiùliàng hugged them. “You did.”

“You’re the new Sha Wujing now I guess.”

“I’m proud of you, Red,” Tang said. He was proud of his kid but he couldn’t understand why Sha Wujing had chosen to hand his weapon to a random kid. He’ll think about it later. “I’m really proud.”

“What do we do now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Red perked up. “Yea! We could bring justice to the world! Go after bad guys!”

Sun suggested, “Or we could eat.”

“Let’s go with that.”

The group discussed their recent adventure while Sha Wujing watched from a building. He frowned, shifted to a duck and flew off.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #red sand au #red shark au #red son #sha wujing #lmk sandy #sandy #tang #mr tang #sun wukong #monkie kid wukong #zhu bajie #pigsy #lmk pigsy #long xiaojiao #mei #qi xiaotian #mk #spider gang #syntax #lmk huntsman #huntsman #goliath #lmk goliath #spider queen #philo/tiger writes

[cathrrrine]

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 05 - BAR FIGHTS

tw // mentions of harassment, violence, cursing

—————

"FUCK YOU!"

The crowd roared, excited at the sight before them. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I threw my fist lazily.

"FIGHT, WOMAN, FIGHT!"

A chorus of "fight, fight, fight! " suddenly rang throughout the bar. Everyone was enjoying the entertainment, clearly under the influence of alcohol- including me, of course. There was a dozen more people than there was before.

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" The man under me spat. I merely chuckled as I dodged his weak punches.

Like a five-year-old, I yelled, "You started it!" Blood drew from his mouth and his cheekbones as I continued to swing my fist at him.

This wasn't what I expected. I should have seen it coming though. When I'm drunk, I lose control of myself.

20 minutes ago

The bar turned out to be a very popular site at midnight, and my alone-time was graciously interrupted by the big mouths of the newcomers.

I hated it.

I took a big gulp of (alcoholic beverage), sighing as they approached the bar. The amount of chatter that came from them weren't helping with my temper either.

Suddenly, I felt something cold on the small of my back. Chills ran up my spine.

"What's a lovely lady like you doing here?"

I immediately reacted by turning around and hissing, "Trying to get some peace and quiet." It was one of the loud men, a sheep straying from it's herd.

He chuckled, "Well, nothing's stopping you." His hands—cold as they were—were still there.

"Correction; you and your big ol' gang are. Get your hands off of me."

This time he let out a cackle, throwing his head back dramatically. "You're a funny one, huh?" He just can't take a hint, can't he?

I smiled at him insincerely, teeth bared. Tonight, I didn't want any trouble. I jumped off the bar stool, drink in my hand, and walked away.

"Hey! I wasn't done talking yet!" He grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me in close to his chest. His breath smelled like beer—it was obvious he'd been drinking way before he walked into this bar.

My reflexes kicked in and I twisted his arm as I pushed him away. He bumped into a nearby table and a bunch of exclaims came from the people vacating it.

"You'll regret that." He fumed.

Next thing you know, he pushed me against a wall, his face an inch from mine. He laughed, and I gagged at the smell of his beer breath. I was pinned by his hands on my shoulders.

I was getting more and more frustrated by the second.

"No, you'll regret that." I snapped, and whatever happened next passed by in a blur.

I had tucked my arms in and hit at his arms, once I got out of his grip I grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it over his head. That was enough to make him unconscious, but this guy was just so determined. He stood up, his balance obviously off, and pounced at me.

I saw it coming so I moved out of the way, ducking when his fist swung at me. I punched him back, hitting as hard as I could.

I went berserk. It wasn't pleasant. Now here I am, still throwing fists at the jackass. I wasn't planning on leaving any time soon.

My biggest mistake.

———

"Why me?" Pietro whined.

The team had flew in on the site where FRIDAY detected their target. There were security cameras all over the place, plus someone had uploaded a video a few moments ago from the bar. FRIDAY had detected the same facial features from their previous scan. They hit the jackpot; it was a rural area and there were no crowds for them to deal with.

"Because you'll fit in greatly." Steve said. They all decided that it was better for someone to get intel on the bar first. 'Coincidentally', everyone voted for Pietro to go.

"He's just trying to be nice," Clint smirked. "It's because you're the least famous out of all of us."

"Are you serious?"

"Very." The rest deadpanned. It was only him, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Tony and Wanda on the mission.

"This is an actual serious situation. What if I mess up?" Pietro huffed, "You do realise we really need to get her, right?"

As he was speaking, Clint had already tossed him an earpiece and an oversized coat, then gestured for him to put it on.

"Yes." Natasha called out from the pilot seat. "And we believe in you, speedster. Go!"

With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, he finally stepped out of the jet. When he looked back, there was nothing there. He was taken aback for a second before he processed that it was just the quinjet in stealth mode. It was even more invisible in the night.

He sighed, staring at the earpiece and the coat in his hands.

"Might as well put it on now." He sighed.

—————

When Pietro walked in, he was immediately greeted by a cheering crowd of people, gathered in a circle. Whatever spectacle it was they were entertained by, Pietro had to know.

"Maximoff, can you hear me?" He was startled by the sudden chime in his ear, but quickly recovered.

"Yup."

"Good. Now listen carefully, you need to scout the area." Natasha instructed.

He tried to casually sit down on a table. A waitress came up to him, asking him what he wanted in a slight southern accent.

"Just-"

"You need to not look suspicious. Order something common."

"Just whiskey. On ice." He smiled.

Pietro waited for her to walk away, far enough so he could talk to Natasha. "Why are you repeating everything you told me before?"

"Because you're bound to forget?"

"Then why did you even pick me in the first pla-" Pietro quickly stopped talking when he saw the waitress approaching.

"Here, hun." He handed her a bill, and downed the drink to avoid further chit-chat.

"What do you got so far?"

Pietro looked around, "Two entrances - front, back. Both open. About...six windows. All open."

"What else?"

"Bar's on the left side. A dozen seats. And there's a crowd here, so you might want to jot that down."

"Dang it. A crowd? "

"Very much so."

"Look for her. Don't persue alone. Give us the signal and we'll be there."

Pietro cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalant once again. But his attempts were failed when he heard the grunts and groans coming from the hoard.

He scooted closer, wanting to take a peek.

What he saw made him gasp. It was a sight to see alright. "A real bar fight!" Pietro whispered to himself excitedly.

He had seen his own teammates spar on the mat and in combat, but this was something else. This was pure rowdiness. Pure drunks, messing each other up in a real, live bar!

He dived into the crowd, drink in hand. He couldn't see, with all the people in front of him.

"YOU USELESS SON OF A -" then he heard a painful crack.

A series of roars echoed, fists pumping in the air to cheer on the one they were rooting for. Bets were being placed already.

Pietro finally pushed through, and when he did, he was shocked and confused. It was a woman and a man. He didn't realise it at first, but her long curls gave it away. The man—who's face was all bloodied up—was trying to get in a punch. Keyword, trying.

The woman looked pretty beat up too, but the smile on her face made it obvious she was the one winning.

Pietro didn't know what to think. Or to do. Should he help her? Surely everyone here thought that too. He felt a sudden sense of protectiveness over the woman.

So he jumped in and swung a fist at the man.

"What the fuck?"

The crowd booed, disappointed.

"I had to help you!" He explained, "What if you couldn't-"

But he was cut off by a very, very firm fist. The force of her punch threw him back. She smiled, wiping the blood on her lip with the back of her hand.

"I had him on the ropes, my dear Prince Charming." Adrenaline oozed through her veins. She was ready to get in another fight.

Pietro sat on the ground, looking up at her with wide eyes. He reached up to his put his earpiece back in place. She tilted her head in confusion.

"Natasha," he breathed. "I found her."

#run pietro x reader #natasha romanoff #avengers #avengers x y/n #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro x y/n #wanda maximoff #marvel #marvel imagine

[sophi-s]

Cost of Kindness

Chapter II: Fear me not

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6373

Characters: Raphael, Original Character (OC)

Warnings: Blood and injury, suffocating, violence, Raphael is sad :(

Summary:

Nicola is quick to find trust in herself and quick to lose it. She doesn't realise however, that the man she fears sees something in her others cannot. And this something is what made him save her life again.

--------------------------------------------------

Through the few short weeks, the apocalypse has taught the dying Humanity many different things. Resourcefulness, cunning, true strength of unity… and among other things, the cruel life had taught them, was bravery in its purest form. Bravery that isn't simply an absence of fear but the power to overcome it. Stay cool-headed even in the most extreme scenarios, allowing them to face down even the most horrifying demons and either get away mostly unscathed or sometimes even beat them if they were lucky. Without those traits, survival was nigh impossible these days.

This last very important lesson however, Nicola seemed to have quite spectacularly failed to learn. Even as lucky as she was - considering that she lived thus far - she never was the bravest creature in this God-forsaken world. Smart? Sometimes. Ingenious? Sure. But brave? Not really, no. Especially now, as she was staring up at the angel who she decided to trust not even a minute before and who has just ruthlessly murdered a demon with little to no remorse in a very, very sickening way. Her muscles refused to move as though Raphael had already used the spell of paralysis against her as she watched the corners of his mouth, previously quirked upwards in a small smile, slowly descend. His expression in the matter of seconds morphed into confusion when a quiet sob escaped her. This horrifying, agonized screeching was still ringing in Nicola's ears, the demon kept writhing before her eyes and she couldn't help but wonder.. what did it feel like? To have one's life drained like that. Because judging by the sounds the Goreclaw produced, it must've been truly torturous.

"Human…?"

The soft voice of Raphael snapped her out of this strange haze and the sight of his hand extended towards her once again made her heart jump and begin to race. Her mind was telling her that if Raphael wanted to harm her, he would've done it already. Besides, moments before the demon came, he healed the cut on her forehead demanding nothing in return. Only because he could and - for some reason - wanted. But the chilling claws of panic gripping her throat and the fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, screaming inside her head made the voice of reason merely an inaudible whisper drowning in the sea of primal fear of the possible approaching danger. And right now, her body definitely settled on "flight".

"No! "

She yelped and tried to get away but her heels met the corpse behind her and it caused her to trip over the husk of the once frightening demon. With an expression of shock, Raphael retracted his hand as her rear painfully met the tough and damp floor. There was utter horror gleaming in her emerald green eyes, matched by lack of comprehension in his.

"Why are you frightened?"

And he has the audacity to ask why. Nicola thought bitterly as she started to scramble away. At the first glance, Raphael seemed so kind, he was such a gentle soul. Even his face, despite the collapsed cheeks, has the most trustworthy look to it Nicola had ever seen. This kind is the worst. Makes you trust them, lower your guard.. It seems she'd conveniently forgotten about one fact she noticed moments after she found Raphael. He's completely, absolutely and utterly insane. Unpredictable. At first he couldn't even remember his own name or how he got here. Who can guarantee her that he won't have an abrupt change of heart and lash out at her? She wasn't going to take chances. Leaping up to her feet, Nicola blindly runs off into the dark pathway she initially emerged from, her shotgun left forgotten on the floor just as she heard an almost frantic-sounding call echoing from the haphazard hide-out alongside the sound of rustling feathers and cloth.

" NICOLAAA! "

To her, this shout may have as well been a roar of a Fallen that not so long ago nearly succeeded in ending her life. A golden hue on the walls glistening with wetness trembled and started to move. No one had to say that out loud for her to realise that the angel was actually chasing after her. And to think that merely seconds ago Raphael was struggling with standing up properly… The pain of her overworked legs was gone, forgotten. They carried Nicola like a completely different entity, moving on their own, tireless and strong with only one purpose. Get away. Survive. Escape.

How Nicola managed to get to the point where she started her sightseeing tour of the sewers without any source of light and without tripping over all those bodies she found before was a mystery even to her. Even the slickness of the ladder didn't phase her as she pushed the lid off and quite literally pounced out of the hole in the sidewalk like a puma. She only hoped she'd managed to lose her pursuit in the winding corridors. Placing the lid back where it belonged, Nicola immediately booked it for the nearest alley just to be sure.

Once she was more or less hidden, she leaned against a crumbling wall, breathed out silently and covered her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sobs. She thought that for once she found something that wasn't about to end her where she stood but it seems that the Universe has taken it as a matter of some twisted honor to slaughter every single member of the human race. This is just unfair. Sure, there was a lot of people who deserved to be smited into oblivion by the God himself for what they'd done but if the apocalypse was supposed to be some kind of punishment, then for fuck's sake why does the entire race has to suffer for it?! How is this even fair ?!

It's not. That's how.

Nicola looked up at the night sky glittering with numerous stars, winking at her like thousands of watching eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks, leaving clean trails in the dust and grime. Eventually, her heartbeat started slowing down, her breath evening out and the adrenaline gradually receding from her system. Now she had a moment to clear her head and think. She had no doubts she can be forgiven for running away. Every person in their right mind would do the same in her situation. Nicola refused to die like this.. But on the other hand… This panic in Raphael's voice, the almost childishly innocent smile as he closed the cut on her skin and the gentleness to his every move as he tried to heal a defenseless kitten… God, this is so… so… Nicola couldn't even find the right word. Despite what the angel did to that Goreclaw, no one said he meant to hurt her too. He may be crazy but that doesn't mean he's a psychotic murderer. This was a demon and angels rightfully hate demons! In his mind there was most likely nothing wrong with that. Besides, she gave Raphael no reason to think of her as a target. All of the sudden, Nicola felt unbelievably foolish for running off like that. Raphael saved her life after all. And she acted nothing if not horribly ungrateful. Should I go back? She'll have to anyway. In a hurry, she left her weapon back down there and Haven was short on those… Dang it…

She sighed. It honestly made her feel like a moron. Damned survival instincts… Sure, they were keeping her alive all the time but sometimes they were just so incredibly annoying. Why would they make her run away from someone who protected her even though he had no reason to do so and nothing to gain from it? From the first angel who seemed to care what fate befalls her? Goodness me, this is so stupid… Nicola shook her head and was about to walk back to the entrance to the sewer when she noticed something in an adjacent alley. Seeing a pair of hungry yellow lights slowly moving closer to her, just above the ground made her heart drop. Her sight has long got used to darkness and so it took her only a fraction of a second to notice curved, black horns above them, long and spindly arms on either side of a slender body ending in a long, scaly lube. A snake-like tail…

With a pounding heart, Raphael quickly moved through the sewer that has long ago turned into his hide-out. Tracking down the strange little human who unexpectedly visited him in his "lair" was harder than it seemed. She was way faster than he would have given her credit for. By all means, in her short legs she shouldn't be that quick. Fear does strange things to people.. But why was she afraid? This short meeting was inarguably the most wonderful thing that happened to him ever since he left the White City. He couldn't quite remember how long ago it was but definitely too long for his taste. All he recalled was the horrible, sharp bite every time he repeated the ritual to finish his greatest creation, followed by a short-lived feeling of elation soon to be replaced by deathly cold within the centre of his being. Each time getting worse and worse until he couldn't stand it anymore. Quickly descending into madness caused by never-ending pain and the chill of his damaged soul, the invisible wound in his chest as cold as a forgotten grave, he knew he can't keep doing this. And so, after having lost his purpose, there was no reason for him to stay anymore. He refused to disappoint his brethren.

You've fulfilled your task. They don't need you anymore.

Raphael halted for a moment, blinking to try and chase away the taunting whisper in the back of his head. It is not true.

"You're wrong. They do. More than ever…"

In the premature Endwar, Heaven's Legions probably wished he was with them. But that doesn't change a thing. He's not going back. Not after he failed to save Ithuriel as an unexplainable surge of panic paralyzed both his hands and his magic. It still sometimes haunts his damaged memories… The young warrior slowly languished from a poisoned wound, grew weaker and weaker with every moment and the archangel couldn't move, couldn't even speak to call for help. Just.. stood there and watched unable to act. Until… A painful twinge through his chest made him wince. No. He can never allow something like this to happen again. He cannot fail them.. He refused to let anyone down like that. Ever.

Frankly speaking, Raphael started to wonder when he'd taken to talking to himself. Solitude clearly wasn't serving him… It's been so long since he had anyone to speak to and even longer since his mind felt this clear. This woman, Nicola, told him she is a human. Considering what has happened to the Third Kingdom, Raphael found it hard to believe. But the spark of life in her soul… it really did feel human. She wasn't a fiend from the Black Depths, nor was she of his own kin. Earth was where she belonged. But there was something in her… something so oddly familiar.. soothing. A flame like those burning in hearts of Heaven's people, just somehow fainter. Only a small fraction of it. Maybe her soul belonged to an angel before it was purged by the Well? Who knows?

But that aside, she was still human. And so, it might as well make her the last survivor of her race and the first creature to show him a lick of sympathy ever since he chose the path of a hermit. The Balance was in danger and this human was imperative for its preservation. For the first time in decades, Raphael felt needed. He had a purpose again. No one was forcing him to do this but the words in a caring tone leaving Nicola's mouth and clear concern for his well being even though she barely knew him for a couple of minutes were something he has been so… so dreadfully missing. As confused as he was by her attitude, he couldn't deny that it was… nice. How long has it been since someone expressed clear worry for him? Too long… The archangel wished this odd mortal near even if for just a short moment because strangely enough, her kindness directed specifically to him somehow eased the never-ending suffering and helped him focus his thoughts that kept running rampant without control whenever he couldn't busy himself with something other than the hole in his chest. And now they were focused on one goal. Find the human.

Raphael waved his bandaged hand through the air before him to invoke a spell and frowned when he detected the familiar presence he was searching for somewhere over his head. She must've left for the city above him. Right where she's out in the open for demons to pick out. Why did she run?

She knows what you are. And she is just a human. Of course she would run like a coward.

No. Raphael brushed this poisonous voice off. Believing in a single word it says will mean his failure. If he does, he will be doomed. Forever lost in the depths of insanity. No matter.. Channeling his magic, Raphael warped and reappeared amidst the sorrowful ruins of the city once inhabited by hundreds of humans. A wave of fresh air hit him in the face and for a moment made his head feel like it was spinning. His eyes opened wide when he took a huge gulp of oxygen. He never realised how sweet it can taste. After such a long time in the damp darkness… The stars peered down at him from the moonless sky, shining like shattered diamonds woven into black velvet. Enchanting and stunningly beautiful. If it wasn't so dangerous out here, Raphael would've surely been more eager to leave the dark pit he was stuck in to marvel at the Earth's still present beauty but such as it was… The moment he let his eyes wander across the vast expanse of the Earthen sky, his feathers bristled at the sound of a shrill cry of fear that tore the silence asunder. A cry of a female voice. Familiar voice. It could only mean one thing. His heart skipped.

Rushing towards the source of the scream, Raphael soon discovered the reason right behind a corner. The same human that indulged him in a much needed interaction, that calmed his restless spirit, was now struggling against the tightening coils of a serpentine body of a demon sorcerer which apparently has picked her as its midnight snack. Already feeling a mist of rage fall over his mind, Raphael shook his head to shrug it off for a little longer. Keeping his head as cool as he could, he performed a gesture with his hands as a string of words in his mother tongue slipped past his lips and his vision zeroed on the Shadowcaster.

Nicola was absolutely sure these were her final moments on this horrible, horrible world when the Shadowcaster jumped at her from a nook and wrapped its tail around her to try and strangle the life out of her like a gigantic, twisted constrictor snake, and watch her perish in suffering. What an awful way to die. Seeing the wicked grin of this malformed face as the last thing before her consciousness leaves her for good. Nicola hoped that if she had to die, then at least she would be sent off by a friendly face… But it seems that God denied her even this last, small comfort.. She fought ferociously against the crushing pressure that was successfully preventing her from catching another breath but to no avail. Her lungs felt as though they had been set on fire and her desperate wriggling only made the demon laugh excitedly as it whispered something she couldn't understand. She didn't have to though. Something told her it was nothing nice.. Dark spots started to gather in the corners of her vision and slowly encase her mind in darkness and she has already come to terms with the fact that this time she isn't getting out of this one alive when… the hold the Shadowcaster had on her loosened.

Taking a wheezing breath, Nicola fell over, still trapped in the coils of the scaly body. What? Once her vision cleared out a little, she saw her attacker lying stiff like a statue with its nasty eyes, previously burning with malice, now opened wide in shock and a web of golden lights crawling across its skin spoke for itself. Before any coherent thought could form in her head she was suddenly yanked free from the demon's grasp by an invisible force. A small cry escaped her when she felt a sharp sting on her thigh where the monster held her with its claws and soon she was gently deposited on the ground. Looking up into a pair of big, white eyes blinking down at her upside down from underneath a green, ragged hood.

"Raph-... phael…?"

She gasped to let her crushed lungs expand properly, though she needed no answer. It was him. He did follow her. And he saved her bacon. Again. Nicola truly wanted to laugh. If there were any doubts still left in her mind that Raphael is a friend before, they disappeared at this very moment. You bloody idiot, you ran from a dude who was trying to protect you and almost got yourself killed in the process. Nicola scolded herself inwardly as she struggled to breathe properly. No running again. Although she was most glad to see Raphael, she immediately noticed something was wrong. He was looking at her but without this soft smile. His eyebrows were knitted together in an expression of worry and… guilt? Why the…? And that's when she noticed that his eyes were flicking between her face and the spot on her leg which was quickly starting to grow warm and wet. Craning her neck to see, Nicola nearly choked once she caught the sight of three deep gashes torn into her flesh. And they were spurting about a lot of blood… Like.. a lot.

"You're bleeding… Hurt…"

His hesitant words only confirmed that it wasn't a hallucination caused by oxygen deprivation. Nicola bit her lip and tried to find that healing shard in her pocket but between being nearly choked to death, her empty stomach, sharp pain and seeing that amount of blood leaving her injured appendage she felt too dizzy to keep her head up and laid back down on the ground with a miserable mewl.

"In the eyes of our blessed Father, your days are numbered, foul beast.."

She heard Raphael hiss through his teeth once he looked up towards the place where the Shadowcaster was surely still face planting under the influence of the spell and his troubled frown turned into a scowl. There was this weird sound once more. Oh my God, he's doing it again… Nicola gulped, already preparing for the round two. Even though she was certain now that she had nothing to fear from him, it still doesn't mean she liked what she saw back then when the Goreclaw jumped her. She was already hearing the screeches of the demon even before they could come to be but this time no such thing happened. Something was different. The light that coalesced around Raphael's hand was not green but golden as the magic vibrated through the air once again. Everything lasted but a second. And instead of a series of pained shrieks, Nicola heard a single, sickening crunch. And then silence. Nothing more. Whatever happened, it was quick and mostly quiet. Probably because they were outside and more demons undoubtedly prowled nearby, and Raphael was definitely smart enough to realise that. Thank goodness… Nicola breathed before she saw the shimmering stars swimming before her eyes quickly starting to disappear along with her hearing. Soon, she slipped her eyelids closed in spite of the pain in her leg and found herself sliding into the dark. Hold on. Just a little longer.. Just… a little…

… longer…

If anything could be said about Shadowcasters, was that their skeletons, as flexible as they are, characterize with astonishing brittleness. One flick of Raphael's wrist was more than enough to snap its neck and give it a far quicker and more merciful death than it deserved. He couldn't allow himself for another drain as it would bring half of the Horde bearing down on both him and the wounded human at his feet. Besides, he didn't feel in need of its energy. The human…

Looking down at her, Raphael felt his heart cease for a second. She was lying there on her back, pale and motionless, her intricate green eyes shut. Alive, the blaze in her soul flickering, but clearly unconscious. Blood was still oozing from the wound he himself had made because of the spontaneous decision to wrench her free from the fiend's hold. He wasn't careful enough and failed to notice that the demon dug its talons into her skin. The archangel had seen a fair share of pain. He used to be the head healer back in the White City after all. The number of warriors he'd pulled out of the cold clutches of death was impossible to count. But somehow this was different. The poor woman was defenseless, weak and delicate. She couldn't even fight the demon that tackled her.

Azrael was right. Humans are very, very fragile.. Compared to other races, they were frighteningly easy to crush. Anything could kill them. From eating something wrong, through illnesses, to even falling into the water. Truth be told, Nicola was the first human Raphael had met in person and he didn't want her to be his last. Just stay calm. Don't panic… Not now… Kneeling down next to her, so small in comparison to him, Raphael gingerly peeled the torn trouser leg off the wound and placed his quivering hand over it, concealing the whole thing with his palm. His magic began to flow into the human once again to seal the torn flesh but there was very little time he had.

He barely managed to lessen the bleeding when a sound of a distant roar and a crash of a car being tossed aside, reached his ears. His head snapped up as his eyes darted around, searching for the owner of this cry. He would recognise it even in his sleep, even if the last scraps of his sanity left him. A Trauma was somewhere nearby. No doubt heading in this direction, attracted by the commotion and possibly the smell of blood as well. And a Trauma he couldn't afford to fight right now. Those things are hearty enough to break through his magic and get to him before he is able to put them down. Scooping up Nicola into his arms, Raphael wrapped his dusted wings around both her and himself and with a single arcane word they both vanished, leaving only a trace of quickly dissipating golden glow in their wake.

-

How long had she been out, Nicola couldn't tell. All she knew that she felt as though someone ran into her with a car. Her breaths were shallow and her heart was beating way too fast for comfort. Groaning quietly, she laid her arm over her face before opening her eyes. To see a dark, damp ceiling gently illuminated by a warm light. Where the Hell-...? The last second before the blackout came back to her like a punch to the gut. The Shadowcaster. Raphael.. With a startled gasp, she shot up, looking about, promptly regretting her decision when the world started to spin again. And to her utter astonishment, she was once again in the small section of the sewers where she met Raphael, settled on some ratty blankets and covered with another one that fell from her chest the moment she stirred.

"Keep still.."

She heard and nearly jumped when she felt a hand fall onto her shoulder and gently coax her into lying down again. And honestly, with how nauseous and weak she felt, Nicola wasn't about to resist and let herself be lowered to the ground. Unsurprisingly now, she saw the familiar scrawny angel sitting cross-legged next to her and staring intensely at her with those big, disturbingly hollow eyes. He brought her back into his hidey-hole? It looks like it.. Why exactly however, Nicola couldn't tell. And there wasn't much she could read from those eyes. A couple of seconds passed. A minute. Two. Five. And he still kept staring. The awkward silence continued until Nicola decided to break it by clearing her throat.

"Uh… what's up, buddy?"

If she wasn't feeling like shit, Nicola would've burst out laughing when she saw Raphael look up at the ceiling confused but she really didn't have strength to explain that this was just an expression. Chucking to herself quietly, she rubbed her eyes with pads of her fingers to clear her blurry sight a little when again her stomach loudly demanded nutrition. And the poor angel who was still looking at the ceiling quite literally jumped away and glared at her abdomen distrustfully when it "growled at him". Seems like angels know as little about humans as humans about them…

"What… was that.?"

Carefully pulling herself up to a sitting position, miserably failing to stop a fit of giggles - even though it pulled her sore muscles over her ribs - Nicola waved her hand dismissively. Any fear she once felt in the presence of Raphael was gone now. Not only did he rescue her twice but the way he was getting confused or spooked by literally anything Nicola did - purposefully or not - was just somewhat endearing.

"I'm just hungry.. I haven't eaten for a whole day.."

"Oh… hungry… hmmmm… Yes.."

Raphael murmured, seemingly a little embarrassed by the whole situation and twisted his body around to reach for something. Furrowing her eyebrows, Nicola tried to shift to see what exactly he was doing back there but she didn't see a lot. At least not until he turned to face her again and very slowly - like he was afraid he would frighten her again - extended his hand to her. And in his palm sat a paper bag where undoubtedly Nicola's sandwich was. Hesitantly, she reached for the packet that rustled encouragingly and a faint, pleasant smell of cheese, ham and pickled cucumbers emerged from within. A nice change from the stench around. It wasn't much but made her mouth water nonetheless.

"Thanks.. though I'd be glad if you didn't go through my things. Okay?"

"Okay…"

He replied with a nod and sat down again, watching Nicola devour - not eat - devour half of her sandwich in a few bites. Goodness, she was so hungry she could eat a horse.. However, halfway through something beside Raphael's thigh caught her attention. There, next to his knee sat a small cat. The same back and white kitten the angel was taking care of before. Looking at her with those blasted big, green eyes with pupils expanded almost to the point where its irises weren't visible and hungrily licking the sides of its mouth. At first she tried to ignore it. But the cursed look cats, especially the little ones, can give! The longer it stared at her, the more sure she was that she doesn't have the appetite anymore.. Goddamnit. Pulling a slice of ham out of her sandwich - the only part that would be of interest to it - Nicola clicked her tongue and offered the food to the kitten.

"Here, little buddy.. Come here."

I'm too soft for my own good. One day, some cat will be the death of her… Carefully and slowly, the kitten approached her, sniffing the piece of meat before snatching it out of her hand and retreating into the safe place behind Raphael to consume the gift. Cats can smell good people from a mile. Looks like she was wrong to ever doubt Raphael had anything but good intentions. Smiling slightly, the angel reached out to the cat and brushed his knuckles against the black fur around a new scar on its back. The loud and comforting purr interrupted only by an occasional swallow rung out and made even Nicola smile as she finished her own food. Even with how meager her snack was, hopefully it was going to last her at least until she finds her way back to Haven. One day of poor eating wasn't going to kill her after all.

When she was done, she peeled back the blanket to examine her injured leg. Nicola pulled a face at the three - even if mostly closed - claw marks on her thigh and the bloodied trouser leg. It didn't look that bad anymore but she could imagine that it would definitely slow her down. The slightest move was causing her mild discomfort. Running and walking anywhere is definitely off the table for now. Still, Nicola much preferred the dull ache that was now in place of excruciating throbbing.

There was no doubt in her mind that this is all once again thanks to the kind, even if a bit unhinged, angel who was now sitting beside her with a quietly purring kitten nested on his lap as he kept stroking its head and back and murmuring something to himself in a strange, melodic language Nicola couldn't understand but found beautiful and enchanting nonetheless. She watched Raphael for a few moments, listening to his deep, soothing voice that made her feel a bit sleepy. After the apocalypse Nicola rarely slept well because of nightmares. And it showed. But before she inevitably dozed off, she felt she had to say something.

"So uh…"

She started, successfully getting his attention, judging by how his eyes shifted to look at her.

"Um… Thanks. For… for everything I guess.."

For a whole minute Raphael didn't answer, simply watched her with his head tilted to the right, a silent question in his eyes. Nicola scratched the back of her neck awkwardly and decided to clarify.

"You know.. for saving my butt two times now, treating me.. And sorry I ran away. I was scared, you got pretty spooky with that Goreclaw back then…"

"Oh…"

He replied with raised eyebrows.

"Forgive me then… I did not mean to frighten you…"

"Oh, no no no, you don't have to be sorry, it's okay! I'm not scared anymore.."

Nicola assured him quickly. Making him feel bad for it wasn't her intention at all.

"Seriously though. Thank you.."

She repeated with a grimace when she tried to shift to a more comfortable position but the ache in her leg made it significantly more difficult. With an empathetic look to his face, Raphael steadied her by returning his hand to her shoulder and moving the other - already radiant with his Heavenly magic - to her wound. The prickly sensation came back, bringing relief in pain as he sighed tiredly.

"This is.. my duty…"

As surprising as it was, Nicola couldn't deny that Raphael seemed to have changed in some way since she found him absolutely deranged. Now he seemed a little more… collected. Focused. Calmer. But simultaneously even sadder and very jumpy. Still, he remained as mysterious as he did before. But maybe if he retains this composure, Nicola could pry something from him about his background. Why is he here alone? What happened to him? How did he get here? There were way too many questions to ask at once but she had to start with something.

"Your duty? You're some sort of a… uh, what shoudma' call it? Doctor, medic, something like that?"

Despite the question being seemingly innocent and harmless, Raphael reacted by turning his eyes down to look at his hands as he flexed his fingers a couple times with a barely noticeable wince twisting his lips. His answer was so quiet that Nicola barely caught it.

"... was… I left.."

"Huh? Wh- why?"

At that, Raphael looked up at her, again with this tortured gleam in his eyes that made her heart squeeze painfully and shyly pointed at Nicola's side.

"It hurts.."

He chimed as she stared at her own hip in confusion. Again, the angel was making no sense. Her side didn't hurt for one, and two, it can't have been the reason why he left… whatever he left to abandon his previous life. A little startled that maybe he knew something she didn't, Nicola probed the place he pointed out but all she could feel was the healing shard in her… in her pocket… All of the sudden she recalled what Raphael told her before.

Hesitantly, she dug the glowing crystal out of her vest and lifted it for Raphael to see better and asked a wordless question which he answered almost immediately.

"The shards… they hurt me.."

This was probably the lowest Nicola's eyebrows have ever descended, making the look of confusion on her face even more blatant. I thought they were supposed to be healing shards? Why would something made to heal one person hurt another?

"How?"

With an expression of anguish, Raphael placed his hand over his chest and took a small gasp of air as if to make his point.

"I created them.. and some of them hurt…"

The revelation made Nicola's jaw fall slack. She'd been suspecting this before when Raphael referred to the crystal as "his" shard but hearing the confirmation almost had her gag. How many times a healing shard has saved either her or someone else from the Tree, she couldn't count on both of her hands. After Ulthane snatched her from the Fallen's talons it took the large one to heal her and make sure she survives afterwards and still it shattered after it served its purpose. At this very moment, no one could ever convince her that the sad, mad angel before her is evil in any way. With a huff of disbelief she shook her head, shifting her gaze between Raphael and the shard.

"Wait, hold up, you made those?! Oh.. my God, I could kiss you, my dude."

A very undignified snort almost escaped Nicola when she saw the face Raphael made. Something between astonishment, horror and curiosity. She remained oblivious to how improper it sounded in his ears. He cocked his head again. Goddamnit. Every time he does that, Nicola just… can't. It constantly reminds her of a puppy looking at some bizarre wonder of nature.

"But.. why would you want to do this..?"

"It's an expression. In other words, I wanted to say I can't thank you enough. How did someone like you ever end up in… like- like this?"

Nicola said "like this" in the last moment before she could say "in such a shitty situation" because she realised just in time how inappropriately awful this sounds, considering they're in the damned sewers. I'll have to learn to stop accidentally making jokes.. For some reason Jones absolutely adored her for it, unlike most of her friends who kept either groaning or facepalming every time and begging her to stop before they kicked a bucket from the sheer badness of her jests. The kitten in Raphael's lap meowed in annoyance when it lost the touch of the angel, coaxing him to keep smoothing out its fur still stained with dried blood. He did, and Nicola didn't miss that he was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"Long story.. very long.."

"That's alright, we have time!"

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her curiosity was just too strong. Besides, Nicola wasn't going anywhere anytime soon with how her leg was fairing (just thinking about how worried Ulthane and the rest have to be made her a little sick) and she honestly doubted Raphael is going anywhere either. But the way it came out made her sound like she was prying to get to something the angel clearly wished to keep to himself. Whether because it was something to be ashamed of or something very unpleasant to speak of. In honesty, Nicola was sure he would scowl at her for this but he simply looked away with a grim look on his face. And it was even worse because it made her feel awful.

"Oh… sorry, if you don't wanna talk about it then it's alright! You don't have to tell me."

"Another time.. rest now."

He hummed and extended one finger towards Nicola's forehead. Before she had time to ask him what he was doing, he lightly poked her right between her eyebrows and all of the sudden she felt unbelievably drowsy. She blinked a couple of times but everything was starting to double before her eyes which were closing all by themselves. With a wide yawn Nicola soon fell into the embrace of magical slumber Raphael called upon her.

He caught her before she could fall down and lowered her onto the blankets to let her sleep in peace. The poor human needed her rest to make up for the amount of blood she lost merely an hour before. Sitting back, Raphael settled for keeping a silent vigil over her until magic wore off. What am I going to do with you? He wondered. For some reason he felt so inexplicably drawn to her and couldn't help it. Something about her was just easing in the pain and warming up the empty void in his tormented soul, even if only a little. The small animal he rescued before rubbed its fuzzy head against his hand and started to knead the fabric of his trousers with its laughably tiny claws that compared to demons' talons were nothing. Still, it stung a tiny little bit. Despite this, Raphael let it curl up in his lap again and fall asleep as well while he watched the human woman and the strange spark dancing within her like a candlelight.

--------------------------------------------------

Chapter II is done! Getting angsty. And say hi to Raphael's kitty. Isn't it cute? :3

Also, here's part 1 if you haven't seen it yet.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #fan art #my art #my fic #fan fiction #raphael #darksiders raphael #darksiders oc #nicola #kitten <3 #Cost of Kindness #CoK #I'm still thinking of a name #for the cat I mean

[nalgenewhore]

Too Late To Turn Back Now - Eleven

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - epilogue

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The sun was still brightly shining outside and Lorcan half-wondered how it could when he was broken and hurting, his world crumbling around him. 

He drove the boat back on autopilot, hardly paying attention as he travelled across the blue waves, the ocean spray making his hair damp and his suit too, but he didn’t care. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a rumpled blanket sitting on the bench.

The sight of it was enough to make his heart break in half – again – as he shut off the boat and dropped onto the cushion beside it, picking it up and holding it to his chest. He had meant what he said. He would always find her. Always. 

But that wasn’t she wanted and no matter how badly it hurt him, he would respect her wishes. She deserved to be free, whether that was with him or not. She deserved happiness, even if he wasn't the one to give it to her. 

Throat tight, he sat there, unable to stop feeling like he was drowning. It hurt to breathe, the memory of them a sharp knife in his side that grated against his ribs with every panicked breath.

Slowly, he folded the heavy blanket and stuffed it into the cabinet, latching the door shut. Lorcan loosened his tie and dumped his suit jacket on the bench before he moved back to the driver’s seat and started the boat again, numb as he drove home.

He docked the boat an undetermined amount of time later. Guests were milling and buzzing about, gossiping as he parked the boat and stalked up the jetty, ignoring everyone and everything.

He saw Aelin first and when he shook his head, her face fell and she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he whispered, his words strangled. “I’m gonna go… do something.”

Aelin stepped back and nodded, “Ok. I’ll be here if you need me.”

With a slight nod, Lorcan was off, not meeting anyone’s curious stares as he strode through the house and slammed the bedroom door behind him. It had been forty-five minutes since Elide left and he had never missed anyone the way he missed her.

Someone had moved the dress and the letters off the bed and he practically tore his clothes from his body, throwing himself down on the mattress and wrapping his arms around a pillow. It smelled like her honey-suckle shampoo and Lorcan gritted his teeth as he flung it to the other side of the room.

Deciding he couldn’t stand to be surrounded by her presence, even after she’d gone, Lorcan busied himself by cleaning the room, methodically cleaning the space. Even if he could never forget her, he could rid his home of her.

As he worked, he tried not to think about how his heart was going across the world and he’d never see it again.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide sat down in her seat and clipped her seatbelt on, ready to leave. She’d been the first on, meaning everyone had seen how she’d left Lorcan like that. 

Her seatmate sat down and glanced at her quizzically, wondering why she hadn’t stayed.

If she were being honest, she didn’t know either. Well, she did know. Lorcan wouldn’t have been happy with her forever and she didn’t deserve him. He was good and kind and he cared about others. Elide did not and hadn’t for a while.

It was almost humorous, she supposed. Two people, who had been hurt from a very young age, their lives nearly identical, but while one had used that as fuel to be selflessly loving to the people that mattered the most to him, the other held on to the feeling of cold detachment, never trusting anyone ever again.

Elide tried to be happy. She had missed Terrasen all these years. There had been too many times to count when she had wanted to pack up her life and ship it back over to her home, but without the financial stability she had now, Vernon would have sought her out and reeled her back in with his vicious words. And honestly, she hadn’t wanted to go back. Every time she thought about doing so, a voice at her shoulder would tell her to stay and so she did. 

In need of distraction, she searched into her pocket, looking for what, she didn’t know. She felt something smooth and cool, pulling it out to find the piece of sea glass she’d found that night. It was black, and she’d chosen it because it looked like Lorcan’s eyes. She pulled out her phone next, fumbling as the screen lit up to a picture of her and Lorcan, walking together on the sidewalk. She was holding onto his elbow and hand, wearing his fleece and looking up at him with an adoring look. He was returning the gaze fondly, his posture relaxed for once. 

“You two look beautiful together,” the older woman sitting next to her said. “It’s probably none of my business, but I hope that you two know that, if you love each other, things should come easy. Before you tell me to mind my own self, just ask yourself: how does it feel to be away from him?” 

Like she was being torn apart. 

Without really thinking, Elide unlocked her phone and tapped out his number, knowing he wouldn’t pick up and still hoping he would. She got his voice mail and just hearing him talk had her wanting to cry again.

Her heart was in her throat as she waited for the beep and it took a few tries for her to speak. “Hi. It’s me. I just- I’m on the plane and I want to cry. I miss you. I don’t know why I’m here, I shouldn’t be here.” Elide swallowed back her tears, looking up as if it would stop them from forming in her eyes. “I thought I was going home but I’m not ‘cause you’re my home. Wherever you are, that’s where I should be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t-“ she breathed in sharply, feeling like someone had punched her in the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. “I need to get off this plane.”

Quickly, she shot up, hastily grabbing her bag as the flight attendant pulled the door shut. Elide sped around passengers that were still putting their carry-ons, apologies spilling from her lips. “Miss-“

“I need to get off the plane.”

The flight attendant sighed, “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to take your seat. The plane will be leaving soon.”

“No, you- you don’t understand! I need to get off this plane, I can’t leave—”

“Ma’am. I’m sorry, but I cannot let you off this plane. Now, if you would just—”

“Please. Please, I am begging you, just let me off the plane. I have to get off this plane.” Elide felt her eyes sting with tears and the woman pursed her lips, glancing between the cockpit, the door, and Elide. She tried again, her voice cracking. “Please.”

“Let her off the plane!” Elide turned at the voice, seeing her seatmate standing up, her fist waving in the air. “Come on, just let her off the plane! Have a heart, miss." 

Slowly, the other passengers took up her cry, pleading with the flight attendant. Elide bit her lip to stop from outright crying then and there. “Please. I love him.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

No one had seen Lorcan since he’d returned and the boys had had enough.

They’d found out that the door was locked and he wouldn’t open it – that they knew, so they did what any reasonable people would do. 

They scaled the side of the house up to the balcony.

Crashing through the French doors, they found Lorcan in the shower. “Ayy, Lorcan!” 

He looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you fucking mind? Get the fuck out!”

Rowan and Connall nodded and turned, but Fenrys and Vaughan were unperturbed. “We don’t want you to be lonely! Are you sure you’re—”

“If you do not get the fuck out right now, I will kill you. I will literally murder you dead and chop up your bodies with the ax and feed you to the fucking orcas! Get out!”

Both wearing shit-eating grins, they left. He had a lump in his throat and no matter how many times he coughed or swallowed, it didn’t go away.

A few minutes later, Lorcan stalked out of the bathroom, his hair piled up in a messy bun to keep from getting wet. One of the boys, probably Connall, had put new sheets on the bed and they were all piled in it, looking up at him with excited expressions. “Dude. They have Space Jam.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh at the sight of all four of them in a bed that was far too small for hulking men. He got dressed, wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie, the hood flipped over his head, and shoved Vaughan to the side so he could be in the middle, between his cousin and Rowan.

Rowan opened his arms and Lorcan let his best friend hug him close, Rowan’s chin resting on top of Lorcan’s head. Lorcan leaned the side of his head above Rowan’s heart, slinging an arm across his waist. Someone pulled him up into a seated position - Vaughan, who gently took his hair down and began to braid it as Fenrys used the remote control to choose Space Jam.

As the opening credits began, his eyes welled up and he did nothing to stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks. “I love her.”

Rowan sat up and let Lorcan lean on him. He kissed the top of Lorcan’s head, rubbing his back, “I know, L.”

“It wasn’t… just what happened. We were more than that,” he whispered, closing his eyes and still the tears slipped past his thick lashes. He had to believe that they were more than that.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

The girls had been sent away, out of the house, their protests gone unheard over their mother’s commands.

Odette roped in Nehemia and Aelin to help her in making food, not that either of them needed much convincing. In times like these, it was hard for the two women to sit still, the very being in their bones urging them to help in whichever capacity.

Nehemia and Odette spent the late morning making food, while Aelin was in charge of whatever boozy drinks she could make, having been banned from the kitchen ages ago. She sipped from a glass, the drink burning the back of her throat and calling tears to her eyes, “Whoo, that’s got some kickback, dang! It’ll do.”

Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, Nehemia wandered over, a scrutinizing look on her ethereal face. “Are you sure?” Aelin just rolled her eyes and took Nehemia’s towel, giving her her own glass. She looked at it warily and sipped, coughing and nodding, her voice strained, “Yeah, this’ll do, gods-damn, Aelin.”

Odette laughed from where she was stirring a large pot of wohanpi, a bison stew Lorcan had always claimed had healing powers. All anyone knew about it was he made it once a year in a huge batch and froze containers of it. A lucky few would receive a portion when ill or fighting a raging hangover. Aelin, being his best friend, always had a guaranteed portion as well as Nehemia. The boys could fend for themselves. “Which of you is up to go wrangle the boys?” They had all watched as Rowan, Vaughan, Fenrys, and Connall scaled up to the balcony.

Aelin rose her hand, holding up a finger as she drained her glass, “I’ll do it.”

They nodded and waved her down the hall and off she went.

Having the decency to knock before entering, Aelin waited until someone called ‘come in’ to walk in, smiling widely at the sight she saw.

All of them, piled onto the bed and cuddling while watching what they considered to be the peak of cinematic history. It was cute and she thought about teasing them, just a tad, until she saw the tear tracks on Lorcan’s face and the redness of his eyes behind those round glasses of his. “I got booze and bison stew!”

“Did you make the stew,” Lorcan muttered, snuggled in between Vaughan and Rowan. Fenrys, probably having decided that he wasn’t being given his due attention, was sprawled on top of them and somehow managed to make it look comfortable. “If so, I don’t want it.”

“Hahaha, you’re so funny! Did you come up with that all by yourself? No, of course I didn’t – Mama Salvaterre did that and Mia made bread, I think. Or was it cookies, I can’t quite remember, but she was baking. C’mon! Get out of bed,” she whined, stamping her feet on the floor like a petulant child until they all slowly climbed out, wearing an unintentional uniform of hoodies and sweats. Aelin being Aelin, commented as they filed out, somber and silent. “Wow, matching, how cute.”

Lorcan snapped his teeth at her and flipped her off as he sat down heavily at the island bar, smiling slightly when Nehemia pushed a filled bowl and spoon towards him.

The rest of the boys served themselves and were silent as they ate, shoveling the food into their mouths and down their throats. Nehemia half wondered how they hadn’t choked yet.

When their bellies were full, Aelin gave them glasses and the pitcher of her concoction, sending them out onto the porch. They all protested, of course, and said they would clean up like the good mama’s boys they all were (though they were loath to admit it) but Odette would have none of it.

It was a good thing that the sink was situated so that one could look out over the yard and therefore patio while they washed up. Aelin had suds up to her elbows as she half cleaned, half spied on the boys, little snippets of their conversation floating through an open window.

Lorcan was talking about Elide and how he didn’t want his brothers to hate her. They were all quick to assure him they didn’t, but Aelin knew better. There would be a grudge held for a while.

Eventually, Fenrys and Vaughan got antsy and went off to box on the grass. Aneha and Sadirah watched from the garden, egging them on, the little troublemakers. Rowan and Connall finally went down to break it up before either of them took it too far, as they were prone to do, but just ended up getting drawn in.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was watching his brothers fight but wasn’t processing a thing. He stood up and walked down to the yard, passing everyone to sit by the jetty, watching the sun set. Lorcan dug out his phone from his pocket, not exactly sure what for.

The screen was lit up with one missed call and he opened his phone to see who it was. He choked, nearly sending the drink in his hand flying when he saw that it was from Elide and she’d left a voicemail.

Hands shaking, he put his drink down and pressed on his voicemail, hardly breathing as it rang and the automated voice recited: “You have one new message. To hear your messages, press one-“

Lorcan pressed one and leaned his elbow on his knee, biting his thumbnail as her voice filled his ear. “Hi. It’s me.” She sounded like she was crying. “I just- I’m on the plane and I want to cry. I miss you. I don’t know why I’m here, I shouldn’t be here. I thought I was going home but I’m not ‘cause you’re my home. Wherever you are, that’s where I should be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t-“ she breathed in sharply, interrupting herself, “I need to get off this plane.”

His eyes widened and his knee stopped bouncing as he heard a rustling sound and Elide murmuring quick apologies to the people she pushed past. There came a second voice that sounded like it was further away. “Miss—”

“I need to get off the plane.”

Lorcan swallowed hard, almost thinking this was a dream. The flight attendant spoke again, sounding slightly exasperated, “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to take your seat. The plane will be leaving soon.”

“Let her off the plane,” he breathed, standing up and pacing back and forth. He ran his hand through his damp hair, his heart slamming against his ribs.

“No, you- you don’t understand! I need to get off this plane, I can’t leave—”

The message ended and he froze, “No, no, no, fuck!”

He hung up before the automated message could play and almost threw his phone into the ocean. He didn’t know what to do and so he hastily typed out Elide’s number, messing up more than a few times and hitting the wrong number.

When he finally got the right number, his call was sent straight to voicemail and Lorcan swore again, unaware that the play boxing had stopped and they were all watching him with confusion on their faces. “Princess, please, just tell me if you got off the plane, ok? I need you to call me back and tell me if you got off the plane—”

“I got off the plane.”

He froze, his phone falling to the grass beneath his feet. Lorcan didn’t dare turn around, afraid it would just be a figment of his imagination and she'd slip through his fingers again. When Vaughan nodded once, just barely a dip of his chin, Lorcan’s breath escaped him in a rushed exhale and he turned, not making any other move towards her as the same water taxi drove off, leaving Elide and her bag on the dock. “You got off the plane?”

Elide nodded, biting her bottom lip as tears streamed down her face, “I got off the plane.”

He rasped a laugh, the sound watery and tearful as he took one step towards her and Elide flew towards him, her arms stretched out and reaching for him.

Lorcan rocked back a step as she launched herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her hands slid into his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body closer and closer still. He could feel Elide’s tears drip onto the skin of his neck and her body shook as she cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I left. Of course I love you. I love you.”

Pulling back, Elide tracked her eyes over his face, crying anew at the tears on his cheeks, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Lorcan moved a hand to cup her jaw and kissed away her tears which only made her cry harder.

“I love you,” he murmured, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “I love you.” Elide laughed, the sound choked, and hugged him tighter, looking down at him from her elevated position as he hoisted her up higher and banded his arms under her thighs. “Did you mean it?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “What you said in the voicemail.”

Elide smiled, almost shyly, through the tears that fell steadily and nodded. “Every word. I don’t want to leave you again. I’m home with you. Wherever you are, I’m there.” 

He didn’t want to waste anymore time and closed the gap between them, kissing her softly, uncertainly. After a second, he drew back, looking up at her as she kissed him again, sure of herself as her hands moved to cup his face. “I love you.”

“Say it again,” he whispered, chasing the feeling of those words against his lips. “Tell me again. Until I am tired of it.”

“I love you,” she said, pulling away. Her nose was tucked against his, their lips still brushing together as she said it. She kissed his cheek, “I love you.” Another kiss pressed to his other cheek, “I love you.” Elide kissed his brow, “I love you.” She kissed the tip of his nose, “I love you.” And then, finally, her lips pressed against his, soft and sure as her words, “I love you.” Her lips moved against his, her hands slipping back into his hair, “Are you tired of it yet?” 

“No.” 

“When will you tire of it?”

“Never.”

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Twilight was upon them and Lorcan guided Elide through the dew-kissed grass, her hand fitting flawlessly, like the final piece of a puzzle, in his.

After dinner, a slightly strained ordeal on the boys’ parts until Odette cut them a glare that had them near pissing themselves when it then passed smoothly, Elide and Lorcan had slipped off silently, having only eyes for each other as they strolled peacefully, their joined hands swinging between them.

Rowan and Fenrys had scowled after the retreating figures, an indignant fury directed towards the petite woman. Odette had seen this and pulled them to the side, chastising them for not recognizing their friend’s happiness over their own pigheaded, male need to hold grudges on behalf of a man who wanted not their anger.

In the present, Elide tugged on Lorcan’s hand until he turned back, gazing at her as she was bathed in the bright moon’s silver light. “I want to dance,” she whispered, delighted as he swept her into a sweet dance, slow and even over the glowing grass.

They danced under the twinkling stars and full moon, to the music only they knew - something that played only in their heads. 

When her feet grew sore and her eyes drooped, Lorcan scooped her up and held her close to him, pressing his lips to her forehead as she made a happy noise in the back of her throat and hummed sleepily. She toyed with his necklace, sliding her fingers up and down the chain.

Elide was out by the time he closed the door to their room and put her down, smiling as she clung to his hoodie and whined, her brow wrinkling.

She settled once he laid down beside her and let her move however she wanted, not satisfied until she was straddling his waist and snuggled against his chest.

Elide sat upright suddenly, her hands braced against his chest. Lorcan sat up, cupping her cheek, “What is it?”

“Kiss me.”

He did so with no hesitation, kissing her slowly, thoroughly. She sighed and melted into it, moaning when he licked into her mouth and their tongues tangled together.

Chests rising and falling erratically, Lorcan pulled away, only slightly, his lips brushing against hers as he asked, “What was that for?” She didn’t open her eyes, her fingers lingering on his cheeks. 

“Is this a dream? If I open my eyes, will you be gone?”

He smiled and waited until her eyes slowly cracked open for him to say, “You are my dream.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: i told y’all it would be fine 

@mythicaitt​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere e @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @yikesitsmaddie @flowerspringsea @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books s @b00kworm @bat-wing-rhys @poisonous00 @empress-ofbloodshed @feyrethedarklady @gorl-power @keshavomit @ifinallygavein @rosegoldannie @pilesoffriles @julemmaes @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @januarystears

#too late to turn back now #tlttbn chapter eleven #the proposal au #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore

[theriverpersonshadow]

Lamia Drama/Deltarune Semi-Crack Fic

The not-awaited, not asked for Lamia Drama X Deltarune crackfic that absolutely no one wanted, but might now find they want!

I played Deltarune Chapter 2 and just decide to write some silliness for fun. This is extremely non-canon to everything involved. Spoilers (kinda but not really) for DeltaRune Chapter 2.

Warnings for swearing, an extremely brief moment of existential dread, and one sexual joke.

As always, the species of lamia I use come from @vex-bittys

If this is your cup of tea, maybe buy me a Kofi?

           Susie stared up at the sign in front of them. “Kris. This…. Is this a fucking pet shop???” Susie said. The sign said “Caring Coils” and had a picture of someone part skeleton, part snake.

           “No! It’s a spring shop!” Lancer said. What else could “Coils” mean?

           “U-Um… I… I don’t know where this building came from???” Ralsei said. As far as he was aware, they had seen neither snakes nor springs on their journey, but apparently this was in Castle Town now! Somehow!

           Kris walked in. It was surprisingly bright for something in the Dark World, eerily similar to what it’d be like in the light world, but given that the main inhabitants seemed to be the apparent offspring of Jockington and Sans, just… What was even happening here.

           “Are these, like, half skeleton, half snake?” Susie said, walking up and knocking on the glass holding the Mamba. A dozen or so snakes suddenly tackled the glass, hissing at her. “Okay, not gonna lie, that’s kinda cool. You think they bite?”

           Kris just stared at the sign on the glass enclosure saying “Please Ask Before Handling – We Bite – Highly Venomous” until Susie got the hint.

           Regardless, Susie hummed, seriously contemplating sticking her entire hand in there anyways. “Hey. Hey Noelle, you dare me?”

           “SUSIE NO!”

           “C’mon, does venom even work on monsters?”

           “Hah! Clearly you know nothing. Monsters do not have blood and nerves to shut down the same way humans do,” Berdly said, strolling over to the Mamba enclosure. “They don’t even look that tough. Look! They’re worm- AAAAAAAAAAAA;LKJSDFLK;JDFA!” He had stuck his hand in there and immediately gotten himself bitten by like 13 Mamba. He flapped his wings, running around the room and sending bitty Mamba flying absolutely everywhere. Tiny battle cries filled the room as they chased after Berdly.

           “Um… Kris? Should we help him?” Ralsei said, watching the chaos.

           Kris answered No, deciding to instead head into the back. Unlike the skeletal-snakes who were snake sized in the front, this area seemed inhabited by skeleton-sized skele-snakes. Kind of. Most were shorter than Kris, except one Cobra who zipped directly by them with a weaponized mop in hand. Kris peaked back – looks like the cobra dude was mopping up the little skelesnakes. Cool, that’s been settled.

           They got a few odd looks as they browsed the area. It had snake things, and child things. Presumably for snake children, which most of these seemed to be. If not for the supplies and price tags, it’d be easy to mistake this place for an orphanage – which Kris could understand, who would want a Sans X Jockington baby?

           Oh hey, that one might be an adult. A particularly grumpy looking  skele-snake looked them up and down, them immediately flipped them off, “Oh great, I thought I was done with human shit. Or whatever the fuck you are.”

           Kris flipped him off back. What meaningful dialogue.

             Meanwhile, Ralsei was trying to figure out what he should do. In the few seconds Kris had left, Suzy had broken another enclosure completely and even more snakes were running around, not at all helped by Lancer and Rouxls mistaking the new lightners(?) for worms and trying to eat them. Berdly had been swiftly knocked out by the tiny swarm.

           Thankfully, something answered Ralsei’s prayers. He didn’t expect his newly found angel to be a 12-foot-something long version of the things causing chaos, but he literally started mopping up the little ones and depositing them into boxes. As soon as that was done, he gave them all an exhausted, withering stare, “Why. Just… why.”

           “Worms are tasty!” chirped Lancer.

           “These are not worms, we’re lamia,” the new person said. He sighed, straightening himself, “Where are my manners. I’m Nikolai. Apparently the rest of the staff disappeared, somehow, and I have no idea where we are, so forgive me if I’m a bit… in need of several of wines.” His “staff” uniform had been replaced by gold and white robes… and a small golden nametag declaring him “staff”.

           Rouxls pushed himself to the front. “I sympathizeth with thee mostly fullily, thine fellow worker of high class and generallyeth most terrifying stature.”

           “… I think I’m having a stroke,” Nikolai said.

           “Hey Yooooo. I Heard Someone Was Wanting Wine (alcoholic)? I Have Some Battery Acid Right Here!” the Queen said, holding her glass cup of battery acid. It exploded in her hand. “Oops Lol (amused)”

           “… I… I give up,” Nikolai said, laying his head on a table. Several of the bitties were chirping and giving praises, trying to tell him not to give up, but the Mamba were also trying to knock the box they’d been placed in off the shelf by all ramming the side of it at once. The chaos refused to be contained any longer.

           Ralsei looked at Nikolai sympathetically, going over and patting his back, “H-Hey, it’s okay! I’m sure between the two of us and Kris we can keep… order… Oh dear.” Everyone had scattered. It seemed that only The Queen, the unconscious Berdly, and Noelle remained in the room with them.

             The Queen looked into the bitty Papython tank. “Hey Is That You Trousle?”

           Trousle looked up at this new lady with the cool glasses, nodding.

           “Sorry You Came Eleventh In The Dragon Cards The Deckening Mini-Tournament Game But Dang Getting That Much Out Of Like A Billion People (Exaggeration) Is Dang (Damn) Impressive!” The Queen said.

           Trousle’s eyes widened, how did she know that?

           “Oh Yeah And Here Is This (based on search history: Sexy Dom Bitties).” It was a small domino with Mettaton legs sticking out from it.

           Trousle was silently screaming, but being him had the perk that he didn’t have to hold in his screams! They were silent by default. So he was just screaming and completely blush-colored in the face.

           “Oh And Emo Thrash Metal (based on search history: Emo Thrash Metal).” She deposited a small broken chunk of the Thrash Machine that had thrashed her giant robot’s ass which was inexplicably wearing eyeliner and had “it’s not a phase mom!” written on it.

           Meanwhile, Susie had joined Kris in flipping off Hux, and then Liam came.

           “Tch. I don’t know what you troglodytes think you’re doing, but we’re closed. Get out,” Liam hissed, putting himself between Hux and the intruders. They were not closed, but could you really be “open” when you had accidentally planeshifted to another dimension without the majority of your staff?

           “Yeah! Fuck off!” Hux hissed, throwing a double birdy.

           “YOU GUYS WANNA GO?!” Susie yelled, foaming at the mouth and drawing her axe. Liam looked injured, but if he was going to go around picking fights, she wasn’t going to stop him!

           “Oh please,” Liam said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, smirking far too smugly. “I would obviously win.”

           “OH IT IS ON!” Susie said, surging forwards. She and Liam both turned out to be too adept at dodging for this to go much of anywhere, and Hux and Kris just spent the fight insulting each other even after Susie and Liam got so mutually carried away they left the battlefield.

           Lancer had found some new kind of paradise: a plastic hammock full of dubious, blueberry snot flavored salsa! He paid no mind to the other person using the weird spa, just jumping in and plopping into the vat of goo.

           Oozy blinked owlishly at Lancer, then started laughing, “Kid? Kid, what are you doing?”

           “I’m claiming this spa as mine, you minty fresh bundle of mouthwash.”

           “Um… This… is my bed?”

           “No it’s not! This is a hammock, not a bed!”

           “… can’t argue with that logic,” Oozy said, shrugging. He wrapped lightly around Lancer, purring. That said, he couldn’t quite resist the urge to tease, “Wow, easiest snack ever.”

           “Thanks!” Lancer chirped.

           Rouxls Kaard then skidded down the hallways without ever adjusting his Trademark Pose, “HALT WORMTH! THEE SHALSTH NOTS EAT MINE PRINCETH.”

           Oozy, being a little shit, looked Rouxls in the eye as he lightly pressed his teeth to the back of Lancer’s head and audibly said, “Nom.”

           “NOOOOO! UNHAND HIM, THINE UNCLEANETHEST OF HEATHENS!”

           “Naaaah.”

           “I’m slimy!” Lancer chirped.

           Meeeeeeanwhile, Keith was laughing maniacally in a mix of sheer disbelief and genuine amusement as he dodged kicks from a living checkers piece, a small army of Pawns at his side. Too bad they weren’t from the same game.

             Some of the Queen’s butlers helped Nikolai and Noelle clean up the storefront from the burst of chaos (and Berdly). They still weren’t sure how they got there, but y’know what, even Nikolai cannot contain this, so he lets the kids who are old enough play around the area with some supervision.

           The Mamba immediately flock to the Dojo, Liam leading the charge, to prove their superiority over all. Berdly gets his ass beat there again. There are Papython in the bakery and Kings in the café, and, well, just lamia generally everywhere.

           A lot of the younger ones flock to Seam. Every child’s dream come true: a giant plush toy that can actually talk to you and he’s kind of just a big fluffy grandpa!!!

             Eventually just Kris and Hux are left inside, locked in a battle of wills and insults.

           “Like you’d even know what it’s like to not have fucking control of shit! To always be told what to do and what to be, and if you can’t, no one gives a fuck about you!”

           Kris: Act:

           Understand.

           They understand, they understand far too well.

           …

           Kris: Act:

           Kidnap.

           The snake boy is going home with them now. He screams, but he does not get a say in this. Bye.

#deltarune #lamia drama #my writing #crack fic #random silliness #non canon #extremely noncanon #deltarune fanfiction #nikolai #berdly #noelle #kris #hux #oozy #keith #ralsei #liam #tw swearing #vex bitties #the queen #trousle #silly shorts

[emptypringlescanister]

New Perspective: Chapter 4

Idk if this can be classified as slow burn anymore lol.

We reached a spicy chapter everyone. Admittedly, I’ve never really written a smut chapter before so hopefully it seems ok.

Tom Nook x Reader

Words: 1257

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Spoilers for Animal Crossing: New Horizons

Smut is under the cut, see the ending for the tag list. 

Previous  <----->  Next

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Animal Crossing: New Perspective

Chapter 4

             Morning brought knocking on your fabric door, rousing you from a wonderful dream about catching butterflies. Slinking out of the tent with a horrible case of bedhead, you glared wearily at the figure. Tom Nook stood before you, looking quite amused with your current state of being. “Tom,” you yawned, “Someone better be dying since you thought it was such a wonderful idea to wake me up.” Nook chuckled at you, tail swishing calmly back and forth. “I do apologize, but I have a matter in which I would love your assistance. If you don’t mind, that is.” You stared at him, brain still cranking along at half speed. “Well, come in then.” You turned and waved him into your tent.

           Back in this blissfully darker interior of the tent, you flopped back onto your tent with a grunt. Nook took a seat in a folding chair as you wrapped yourself back up in a blanket burrito. “So what can I help you with, Tom?” you asked, combing your hair through your fingers. “Ah, yes,” Nook straightens up. “Thanks to all of the materials you and the children collected the other day, Timmy and Tommy have decided to open up their own shop! Therefore, as Resident Representative, it falls to you to decide where to have it built.”

“Oh, well that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.” You emerged from your blanket cocoon, a little more ready to face the day at that point. “From the look on your face though, there must be something else to this.”

Nook smiled sheepishly. “I admit, as knowledgeable about construction as I might be, the mechanical resources for such are in a bit of short supply. As such, it falls to our own hands to build such things for now. In time, we will have such resources, but not now. Ah, I’m rambling. What I mean to say is, I would like your assistance in building it as well.”

           That surprised you. “I’d love to Tom, but I don’t exactly know how construction works.”

           “Oh, but with my assistance, there is no doubt in my mind that we will finish the job perfectly.”

             ‘Well, If you insist,” you giggle. “I suppose that means I have to get ready for the day.” You stretch, but in doing so, your shirt rides up, showing off your midriff. Nook’s gaze was immediately trained on the strip of skin, and blushes hotly under his fur. His tail swishes once, and you look up, locking eyes with him.

“I ah, should leave you to it then…” Nook says, but makes no move to get up from the chair. Seeing the dark gaze in his eyes causes you to blush as well. The relationship between you two was unnamed and tentative, but the playful part of you wants to see just how far you could push things. You stood from your cot and bent over to rummage through your bag, taking just a little longer than necessary. You could feel Nook’s gaze almost piercing through you. You straightened up and fiddled with the buttons of your sleep shirt. Nerves cause your fingers to shake, but you proceed in unbuttoning it all the way. Your gazes lock together again as you slip the shirt off your shoulders and toss it in the corner. Nook’s tail twitches as he leans forward in his seat, pupils blown wide. Your shorts soon join your shirt in the corner. Nook’s eyes rake up and down your body, blush still raging on his face as well as yours. “Far be it from me to complain,” Nook gulps, “But did I happen to do something to deserve such a show?”

           You shrugged, not trusting your voice to speak without squeaking. Tom stood from his chair and walked steadily over to you. The cramped interior of the tent made it a short walk, but one that still felt like it took ages. His arms encircled you, fur rubbing against bare arms with a delicious friction. His nose nuzzled into your hair, sniffing deeply as if he was trying to commit your scent to memory. His hands wandered your body, marveling in your soft skin. You shivered slightly; physical contact was something you had been missing for a long time. You didn’t realize how much you missed it. “Tom,” you gasped; his tail lashed, and he pushed you back towards your cot. Knees hitting the edge, your legs buckled, and you fell dragging Tom with you. Your lips connect, and the kiss you share is heavy and lingering.

           Everything outside the tent fell away, and the only thing you could focus on was the delicious feeling of Tom pressed against you, kissing you, touching you. His hands slide further down your body to your waist, and your hips jerk at the light touches. Your hips brush against the waistline of his pants and he pulls away from the kiss to gasp out a moan. Your eyes trail down to see a sizable tent in Tom’s pants. He certainly wasn’t lacking in that department, and to say that you were excited was an understatement. A thought entered your mind and you smirked. Noticing this, Tom pulled back from the kiss, a strand of saliva still connecting your lips. “What is that look for?” he asked.

           You hook your leg around him and twist, forcing his body down to sit on the cot instead, and you settled on his lap. He grunted in surprise, but his hands automatically went to your waist to hold you securely. You ground your hips into his, the new position allowing you free reign in controlling your movements. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Tom groans out as you thread your fingers through his fur. His erection presses against your stomach through his pants and God do you want it inside you. Almost shyly, you reach down and unzip his pants, reaching in and stroking Tom’s cock. He hisses at the contact, his bucking into your warm hand. Soft moans fall from his mouth as you stroke him, eventually pulling his cock fully out of his pants. His hands grip your ass tightly, and his fingers dip below the waistline to pull down your underwear. “Ah shit, Tom wait.” You say, and he pulls back immediately. “What, are you alright?” He asks, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. “No, I’m fine, it just that I don’t have any lube or condoms with me.” Tom curses under his breath. Seeing disappointment on his face, but still feeling his obvious hardness in your hand, you start stroking his cock again.

           His head falls to the crook of your shoulder and you can feel his breath coming out in hot pants. Curses spill from his lips and his tail swishes against the blankets. You whisper sweet nothings in his ear as you hold him, hands still pleasuring him. “Please,” he groans, “I’m so close, please.” You speed up your hand and he cums with a low groan, spilling his seed all over your hand.

           A comfortable silence stretches between you two as you go through the motions of cleaning up and getting redressed. As you straighten from putting your shoes on, Tom pulls you into another kiss, a sweet, chaste one this time. He pulls back and rests his forehead on yours, gazing into your eyes. “It may be a bit late of me to ask this,” he chuckles softly, “but would you perhaps consider becoming mine?”

           You grin and wrap your arms around him. “I would love nothing more.”

________________________________________________________________

Dang. Short chapter unfortunately, but don’t worry! This is not the last chapter! There will be more! Hopefully this wasn’t too bad of a chapter.

Thanks everyone so much for reading! If you’d like, go check out my other works on my page. My uploading schedule is a little inconsistent thanks to my work schedule, but i’m trying to upload as often as I can.

Requests are open!! Send me a message or send me an Ask. Ask if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tag list for New Perspective @accio-zara    @themagpiewitchescorner    @hentaiqween101 @quesopotato   @moonrocket3   @mookoo-draws @cari0

#animal crossing #New Horizons #Animal Crossing New Horizons #tom nook #tom nook x reader #nook inc

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 2: Going from Zero to Antichrist Real Quick

Bumblebee and his camp buddies are trying to figure out what to do with the Titan who just popped out of the ground like a prairie dog, as the sky looks like a Lisa Frank notebook thanks to the portal to the Dead Universe. It’s honestly very nice, we should should get more pretty apocalypses like this.

Bumblebee starts throwing out orders at everyone, much to Slag’s chagrin. When Slag brings up the point that they probably can’t do much of anything to a guy roughly a hundred times bigger than they are, Bumblebee tells him to shut up and do as he’s told.

Yeah, I had about the same reaction, Slag.

So the Dinobots do their thing. Swoop, who I think is the only guy here who can fly, goes up to see what the Titan’s doing. It’s not much, other than looking really upset. Oh no, what if he’s afraid of heights? Poor guy.

Even if the Titan isn’t moving, the mere presence of the thing is jamming signals, which is kind of an issue. Ironhide’s ready to shoot it in the foot, and Arcee will help, because she’s a team player now. Bumblebee has a minor crisis over whether this is the same Titan that told Starscream he was a prophesied son of a gun, but Prowl doesn’t seem to think that it is.

Prowl, who has been suffering from short-term memory lapses over the last several months or so because a bug-man was controlling his mind.

Yeah, let’s maybe take his opinion on the matter with a grain of salt, even if he is right.

Over at the Lost Light, Orion Pax is visiting Brainstorm’s workshop, where everyone’s favorite science man is admitting to having studied the Dead Universe’s effects on the living and interviewing people who had been to the area.

Man, I sure hope that guy signed a waiver, otherwise Brainstorm’s going to be in a spot of trouble.

Then we get a quick rundown of what the Dead Universe is: an omnicognizant parallel universe that functions on fundamental principles that differ from our own and wants you to die. So, obviously not a place you would want to go to. Still, we gotta, because that’s where the plot is the Dead Universe is gonna vore Cybertron if we don’t.

Brainstorm agrees to cook something up to make the trip through the Gorlam Prime portal easier.

Back on Cybertron, the Titan looms in the distance as we check in on an oddly pristine-looking Iacon. Rattrap tells Starscream to come out of the closet, because the Titan still hasn’t moved and doesn’t seem like it’s going to anytime soon. Starscream does come out, but it’s with his arms full of weapons of Autobot design that he appropriated from the ruins of Kimia, because he doesn’t trust that Titan to not start some shit. Rattrap suggests that they maybe get a second opinion before they start murdering people for standing in a barren field.

Back on the Lost Light, there’s a little shindig going down at Swerve’s, everyone staring down the table where Optimus, Rodimus, and Ultra Magnus are seated. Swerve takes the opportunity to do what everyone else is probably really wanting to, and snaps a few photos of them for his scrapbook. As soon as he’s done, we get to the Emotions portion of our issue.

Rodimus is letting himself be vulnerable in front of the man he idolizes, and I think that’s very brave of him.

Nobody’s feeling super great about the situation they’ve been presented with, but there isn’t a lot that can be done about it now. Just gotta work with what they got. Rodimus asks Optimus how he feels about Starscream being elected leader of Cybertron.

But I thought that freedom was the right of all sentient beings? You know, like the freedom of choice in our government officials, even if they aren’t the best option we could possibly have, because at least they’re better than the guy who had bombs planted in people’s heads for crowd control purposes? Are you saying that it only counted when the concept of freedom could be manipulated so you could go kick Megatron’s ass, and that actual freedom of choice doesn’t jive with your personal sensibilities as much as you’d like everyone to think it does? No wonder you’re going to try to overthrow the entire Earth’s government system to get humanity annexed into Cybertron’s bullshit in a few years’ time.

But perhaps this Starscream thing is actually the work of Megatron! What will Orion do then?

…I mean, do I even have to say it?

ORION, THAT’S GAY.

And I thought we’d already figured out what to do with Megatron back in “Chaos Theory”, where you spent three issues waffling on the subject until the man himself told you to execute him, because even he was sick of your crisis of self. The only reason you didn’t get to act on it was because Megatron disappeared after Vector Sigma blew up and then you fucked off into space without even bothering to check if he was actually dead.

But enough of Orion promising to kill/kiss Megatron, it’s time to see what Brainstorm’s cooked up. It’s not much, but to be fair, he’s only had a few hours to pull something together- our ship’s genius has made a few forcefield generators, using nothing more than some forcefield generators and juice he squeezed out of a bug. Science truly is amazing.

And I bet Trailcutter hates this invention too, for multiple reasons this time!

Cyclonus, who is looking especially purple today, agrees to join the excursion to the Dead Universe, even though it’s pretty clear he really, really doesn’t want to. Hardhead seems in better spirits than our resident space jet, though maybe that’s just bravado macho-man bullshitting on his part.

With our team put together, it’s time to jump out of the spaceship and into a place that quite literally wants them dead. But first Rodimus has a little chat with Ultra Magnus about his feelings. A lot of sharing this issue.

Magnus doesn’t feel fit to be in charge while Rodimus goes off to save the day and maybe die, because he doesn’t have that special something that makes a leader a leader. Charisma? The ability to think on your feet? The ability to see people as people and not numbers? Not having people know you’re actually a much smaller man running around in an Ultra Magnus suit? Whatever it is, Rodimus seems to think that it’s trumped by a mysterious something in his hand, and that Magnus will do just fine.

While Team -Imus goes into the murder reality, Magnus and the Lost Light will be going off to find Jhiaxus, because they need something to do while our protagonist and his absentee father go on their own adventure.

Back on Cybertron, Starscream’s visiting prison, and wants to talk to a very good boy without the guards overhearing. Jazz makes a very vague threat about what will happen if any harm comes to the prisoner, then steps away.

Let’s talk about how to sell toys for a second.

This issue of “Dark Cybertron” had a cover featuring Scoop, the very good boy I’ve mentioned before, because it was paired off with his Generations toy. We know from reading RID that Scoop is the leader of a group called the Construction Patrol, and he likes to help simply for the sake of helping. Sounds like a nice, if generic, character. How is this issue going to introduce people to him? Will he bust out of prison to save the day? Fight evil through heroic sacrifice? Do anything besides talk?

No, he’s going to tell Starscream he’s a herald of death that was foretold in the robot bible.

Yeah, that’ll move some fucking product!

This isn’t even the most batshit thing Scoop’s going to pull in this event, but it is what they decided to put in the issue that “features” him.

Over with Shockwave, we’re treated to some renewed friendships, as Nova Prime and Galvatron reveal that they don’t hate each other after all, but have a mutual respect based in subjugating those weaker than them.

I’m guessing this is a contrast to their previous relationship dynamic in older publications, but I’m not going back to comb through the likes of Heart of Darkness to check, because it really doesn’t matter.

There’s a bit of a snag in Shockwave’s plan to bring Galvatron and Nova Prime back to the Not-Dead Universe, as the space bridge in the Titan burnt up when it got there. Gee, that sucks. I guess all those “Prelude” issues about getting the Titan from Gorlam Prime were sort of a waste of time, weren’t they? Love it when I’m told I wasted my time reading motherfucking Ramondelli issues.

Speaking of Ramondelli, it’s Dead Universe time.

Sigh. Hello, public domain pictures of space on the overlay layer option in Photoshop. It’s nice to see you.

No, it isn’t. I lied.

I’m sorry, public domain pictures of space on the overlay layer option in Photoshop, this isn’t your fault.

So we’re here in the Dead Universe, and it’s looking pretty wild and crazy, though the characters are likely thinking this for a completely different reason than we are as readers. It turns out, the Dead Universe… is dying.

…MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM THAT’S SOME GOOD WRITIN’ RIGHT THERE

Also, Cyclonus has disappeared, not that anyone actually gives a shit, because they’re too busy dealing with the giant space leeches that just showed the hell up. Dang, why’s that happening?

…That only happens as a form of population control, or if the young in question are sickly and have a low chance of survival, not just because the mama rabbit got a bit peckish between lunch and dinner, you stupid fucking robot.

Half of this writing team won awards a couple years after this was published, I want you to remember that.

They fight the cyberwraiths for a bit, things look like they’re getting dicey, then suddenly they fuck off as Cyclonus shows up, probably fresh off the end of a goddamned panic attack because he’s back in the Dead Universe. Then he proceeds to vomit up some black energon. That’s a fun thing, glad you made me look at that.

Rodimus is concerned that one of their team members has got the Hollywood Tuberculosis cough, but Cyclonus doesn’t want his fucking pity. The fellas decide it’s time to get a move on, seeing as they’ve been here a grand total of 20 seconds and been attacked, so they need to get this over with ASAP.

As Team -Imus flies off in a ship I don’t remember them bringing along, someone decides that they’re going to stick their finger in that puddle of vomit.

Nightbeat you fucking idiot, there aren’t any sinks in the Dead Universe! Now your hand’s gonna be all gross for the entirety of this event! He’s not even analyzing it, it’s just on his hand! Why is Nightbeat having zero concept of personal hygiene a running theme in the things I read? Fuck!

You may be wondering what Nightbeat’s doing in the Dead Universe, or even where he’s been for a good chunk of IDW. We’ve seen him in flashbacks from before the war, but not during or after, least not within anything I’ve covered. So, what’s be been up to?

Fuck you, you’ll have to wait for a later issue to be told what Phase One bullshit you’ll have had to read to understand why this dumbass is here.

Back on Cybertron, Prowl is telling Bumblebee that he sucks because he’s not acting. I’m not exactly sure what he expects Bumblebee to do about the Titan who’s just standing there. It’s not like issuing a loitering ticket is going to do anything. Then the Decepticons attack them, among their ranks being the scariest fucking Ravage I’ve ever seen.

Why do you look like that? Rojo’s supposed to have the cutesy style on this team, why the fuck did he turn the kitty cat into one of the terror dogs from Ghostbusters? 

Anyway, that’s the end of the issue. Sure hope you’re invested enough in trying to figure out what the fuck Nightbeat’s deal is to snag Robots in Disguise #23.

#transformers #jro #dark cybertron #issue 2 #mtmte #issue 23 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

[ghostmartyr]

So if you, like me, have nothing to do but wonder about the state of my inbox, you might rightfully be wondering how I plan to deal with the obscene backlog I have spent so many years failing to deal with.

If you have never wondered that, fear not, that doesn’t exclude you from finding out.

Today we’re just going to go through my entire slew of unanswered asks, and instead of answering them, I am going to provide excuses for why I didn’t do anything with them.

For added fun, several of the asks were in my Drafts.

I will not be cutting out the comments I started to make.

I will no doubt regret this.

Let’s have a time, shall we?

I don’t even know what year this is from. If I remember correctly, I didn’t get back to you because I thought about trying to reason out who would legitimately win, and there were too many points for both sides. I kept intending to come up with a proper answer, then time went by and this got buried.

Though the actual answer is probably “it depends on who gets the main character sticker at the time.”

...

..

.

Well.

I can tell you this is multiple years old.

We, as humans, aren’t equipped for time travel.

I didn’t answer this one because I didn’t feel like it was asking for one, and I’m only reproducing it here because it is really, really funny now.

Two years old. Plus change.

I think the entire reason I never replied to this one is that it cheered me up whenever I scrolled down enough to see it, so thank you.

You know, I entered the link at the time. Really, I did. But then came trying to come up with a comment and what can you really follow that with?

(Click the link.)

Okay then.

I still feel no need to respond to this, so that’s probably why I didn’t to start with.

Historia and literally anyone.

I don’t remember why I didn’t answer this, which usually means some combination of feeling tired and not being in the mood to scroll down to where it was.

Oops.

The thing is, this crosses dangerously close to being a fic idea. Fic ideas take time and effort. You can imagine the absolute dread I felt at having to engage with either concept.

It would have been a lot of fun to do, though. Hats off.

See, again. This is a very interesting concept that requires thought. I can tell you when I received it I was in no mood for anything that required anything of the sort.

I wrote a fic that is possibly never going to see the light of day now where they hang out in a kitchen with hot chocolate together and bond through unstated trauma and Frieda attempting to make things better.

That probably contributed to interfering with imagining how they would actually get along.

Anyway, I ship them slightly in that fic AU. Don’t @ me.

Oh dang. I remember this.

I actually really wanted to answer it, but the problem is that I wanted to come up with a good answer. Every character, tiered by their chances. A full Hunger Games edition of what went down and who killed who.

Then I didn’t.

Anyway, turns out the answer is that no one feels the need to chop of rocking chairs in a hurry, so she’d last a long time!

I didn’t answer this because I try to avoid responding with, “I don’t know.” My secondary answer would probably have been, “By being killed.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with those answers, but unless there’s been a tonal trend in asks, I assume that pithy answers that don’t actually have any meat behind them would not be appreciated.

I would stick to him probably being killed, though. But some signs do point to him being relatively immortal.

Hm.

Hmm.

I don’t know why I didn’t answer this, but I would guess it had something to do with me caring very little about Ymir’s thoughts on anything outside of her little clutch of people. And ongoing trauma of repeated dead/alive Ymir commentary killing off my desire to come up with a good answer.

Sorry?

I... have no idea why I didn’t answer this? Maybe I didn’t see it?

Anyway, yes.

There’s a longer version behind that yes, and I’m sure that might have contributed to never getting around to answering this. ...Assuming a past where I did actually see this one.

I have a confession.

I don’t really like crossovers.

There’s a sliding scale of degree, but that’s basically why this didn’t get a response.

Ah, we’ve landed on a recurring theme.

Sometimes, answers involve me thinking about the entire cast.

The usual consequence of that is I don’t have the energy for that, so nothing ever happens with these.

Oh, this one’s easy.

I had no fucking clue.

No ideas, head empty.

That didn’t seem like a good answer, so here we are, probably around a year later. I still have no clue. If I were forced to write a singing duo AU, I would probably just put some adjectives and nouns into a blender and flip a coin.

Names are hard.

I think I didn’t answer this one because I felt like I’d answered similar asks before. And I’m not really sure when this is from, but it’s possible canon complicated coming up with an answer that wasn’t distressed screeching.

Something something give Connie and Mikasa hugs, not partial about where they get them from.

Apparently not. Oops.

I can’t remember why I didn’t respond to this one. It’s possible the oodles of bad parenting proved too distracting to formulate such a post.

Sometimes I get an ask, and my immediate, gut reaction is, how the fuck should I know?

If I can move past that, the ask is answered.

If I can’t, the ask continues its descent through scroll hell.

I am sorry. There are no answers here.

Yeah, this is just the same as the above, just with I have no idea.

It’d probably be a Madoka Magic deal.

Huh. I don’t remember passing this one over. If I were to guess a timeline, I was probably too bitter over potential post-timeskip looks that I never got to be interested in focusing on the characters lucky enough to get good ones.

Go Connie for being less short, I suppose.

This clearly belonged to something that I was doing, but time has eroded the context, so I am simply left with failure and disappointment on all sides. Sorry.

Aw, we’re getting into the boring part of the inbox now, I think. Not because of the questions; you guys are always great. But I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t have answered this, which leads me to think that the reason was I was too tired to put words together.

That’s a boring reason, so maybe I should go into Drafts for the next few...

Yeah, still unfairly prejudiced against crossovers. I am no fun, etc. etc.

I have no memory of it, but I feel like I didn’t answer this because there was no way I could match this kindly anon’s enthusiasm.

You go, random internet person.

You have good ideas.

Oh no.

Uh.

See.

I know exactly why I didn’t answer this one.

I am so sorry, Anon.

I really didn’t care.

I am filled with affection for you because you clearly do, but uh.

...I basically put this on Read.

This has a very simple, ie boring, explanation. Any time someone asks about the cast as a whole, I want to think about the cast as a whole, and that takes a lot more thought than most of the asks I get. Cue putting it off. Cue it getting lost in scroll hell. On and on we go until we end up here.

Anything that opens with kilometers is something that requires more brain power than I have had in the past year.

Also I think I got this during a spoiler week, so I saw it, but I was trying not to look at it, and then it got lost in the post-chapter asks.

That happens a lot.

We might see it more soon.

If I can’t come up with words more than “-shrug-” I try not to answer.

...Good news, though!

The manga did my job for me!

I feel like I answered some variation of this. That might be why I didn’t answer this specific one.

The wiki does a better job keeping track of the timeline than I ever have. I probably didn’t answer this because it would involve trying to remember which volume actually name-dropped a number of weeks or months. Searching for lines I know a character said is pretty easy, but searching out lines I have a vague feeling of someone providing? That tends to hit the frustration button with the force of a truck.

But yeah, if you ever want to know how long something took, the wiki is absolutely your friend. They do good work.

Consider: “What if” questions are hard, and I am lazy.

This is actually one I really did mean to get to, sorry. It’s an interesting thought, and I miss Sasha.

...I clearly did a magnificent job answering your asks, friend.

Prediction asks are hard for me; I feel like I’m throwing darts randomly into the air and the dartboard is still deciding if it’s going to show up. So uh. I guess I just kept putting this off until it didn’t get answered.

This post is going to have so many apologies. Implied and otherwise.

I continue to be the No Fun Police who accidentally-on-purpose avoids crossover commentary.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one entirely because seeing it in my inbox gave me far too much joy to have it lost in a sea of posts.

This is what my inbox was made for.

I have no idea when this was from, but I see your emotions and appreciate them, Anon.

...Did I not see this one?

Hey, Anon who probably doesn’t remember sending this: This is a good ask and deserved some good attention, and I’m sorry I missed my shot at it. Good thoughts.

I didn’t answer this one entirely because I knew I couldn’t match the energy of it, and responding with anything less felt heretical.

That is one hell of a mood, Anon.

This is definitely from the era of, “Can’t think, brain empty.” Sorry about not getting back to you, I just really couldn’t organize my thoughts well enough to come up with an answer.

I feel like I didn’t know what this was continuing from and was too exhausted to ask.

LOOK YOU CAN SEE I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE IT’S A DRAFT.

Too many things, Anon.

I liked so many things about all of that. Trying to turn that enthusiasm into words wasn’t agreeing with me, so I put it in Drafts and told myself one day I’d do the most awesome post detailing everything.

Intentions, huh?

Every time I tried to take a normal screenshot with formatting Tumblr just laughed at me, so that might have been a contributing factor.

Dang, I’m really sorry. This is another one of those cases where I wanted to take my time with a response, and I took too long.

I, uh.

Am guilty of not being too interested in pondering Ymir’s thoughts on Levi or Erwin.

That’s it, that’s the explanation.

Yeah, I just couldn’t come up with an answer here? Or someone else asked? Or several of my friends decided to be annoying about lists on Discord? I don’t even know.

Presumably there could be a list.

There is not.

Honestly, I just couldn’t figure out how to follow that starting sentence up. A thought exercise on Armin, Historia, gender, and themes sounded really interesting, and I put it in Drafts so as not to forget it being interesting.

Then, you know. This post sort of paints the picture.

Ah.

Man, I really was looking forward to putting some proper thought into this. That’s the problem with having so many things I love in one place, I guess. Symbolism? Historia and Ymir? Mikasa? So many good things! Where do I start!

With paralyzing indecision that results in not a lot. Sorry, Anon. This really did light up my day when I got it.

Here’s the thing about me and writing:

I often fail to.

(I love both these ideas, though.)

Yes.

Do I know why I didn’t get around to answering this?

Absolutely not.

But yes, I’d agree with that.

GOOD NEWS!

The manga actually gave us some of them together in the future.

I occasionally giggled over their shared distaste.

It was a good time.

And this is another one I just do not know why I didn’t answer, whoops.

This never got answered because I couldn’t come up with an answer.

Broad questions are scary because they can go just about anywhere and I didn’t know how to handle that level of commitment.

I think I didn’t answer this one, A), because words are hard, and B), because mostly I just wanted to listen to more of your wondering and less of mine.

I probably could have answered this by saying I don’t have any, but that seemed rude, so I didn’t respond to it at all.

Yep.

Frieda is worthy of my time and effort.

Landing this in Drafts instead of my inbox.

Where the lighting makes it more obvious that hope has gone there to die.

I think about it so much too.

I find the answers fundamentally upsetting.

That is probably why I did not provide an answer here.

That is a lot of kids to make up headcanons for.

So I didn’t.

She’s eaten by dogs before she develops a personality.

Since that seemed like the wrong thing to say, I said nothing, and into Drafts this went.

‘I have no earthly clue’ seemed similarly unhelpful.

At this point, we understand that there is no mystery to my backlog.

This one hurts.

-sees the 112 reference-

Wow does it hurt.

As I hope is obvious, I really, really loved this question, and kept meaning to carve out time to work on it specifically. What went sideways was trying to put words to how EMA functions. I knew the feel of what I wanted to express, but every time I tried to write it, it came out wonky.

I’m very sorry I couldn’t do anything for this, because I was thrilled to spend time with it.

I didn’t answer this because Fuck Marley.

It’s nothing against you. At the time, I simply wasn’t in any mood to consider any version of Marley. Even the canon version was too much for me, so giving it my time in a roleswap AU had me hissing.

Roleswaps in general are amazing, and I love them a lot. A dedicated person could make a fantastic one based around Marley and Paradis. I think it would probably be cool af.

But I was so tired of Marley when I got this, I just couldn’t make myself think about it. Sorry. It’s a fun idea.

I didn’t answer this one because I kept trying to extend my response past, “I think he just really likes baseball.”

I think he just really likes baseball.

My feelings on that as a quality answer are derogatory.

Mm. The ones where I actually tried to get something started hurts.

Ultimately, this ask was a larger demand than I could make my brain work through at the time. I made sure to write down the tl;dr version of Sasha’s, because I found that desperately important, and not something that people talk about much, but the additional weight of trying to think of themes for multiple characters made it hard to progress.

Me, looking at the prompts: Hi my brain left me.

Sorry, Anon. Too many gears were moving for me to get a proper feel for what I wanted to do with this one, so I ended up ditching it. ...I was planning to finish it, though. Eventually. See, I even put the quote in the Draft version as a reminder of what I was doing, so I could get back to it right away.

Yeeeeah, this is just one more to the “I will give this wonderful thing all the time it deserves!” pile.

The pile is stored in the Failure Corner.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

You guys really like crossovers.

I love that for you.

-spends two years ignoring you-

I mean, I just didn’t know what to do with the rainbows.

They sure are there.

They sure are pretty.

I sure couldn’t come up with a comment to add.

...I don’t know why I didn’t answer this. Possibly because I think it’s fine? I’m not too attached to it, and spent the whole manga period wanting to watch an anime version instead, then we got an anime version.

I’d guess that my general “meh” feelings interfered with responding here.

No idea why I didn’t answer this.

Yes, and good for you.

I support all thoughts on giving the Reiss kiddos personalities.

I think I didn’t get back to you on this because I wasn’t sure how to encourage you to keep going so I just sat awkwardly on my hands and felt weird about not saying anything.

...Thanks for sharing!

I love how it’s the little things that date these.

Unfortunately, we’re now at the point where 90% of the reason I didn’t answer was because I was too sick to muster up anything approaching enthusiasm.

Or because I’d just finished answering a bunch of chapter-specific things and was burnt out.

This felt pretty self-explanatory to me, so I felt like that gave me permission to ignore it.

Also, it mentions Marley.

I might be slightly petty.

Really though, I think what stopped me from giving a proper answer is that the question of what an author is trying to say throws me off a little. I work better thinking of it in terms of what the story is saying, with the author just happening to be the hands that wrote it all down.

I don’t know. This was probably another case of feeling like I should give this more of my time than I was able.

I couldn’t decide.

That’s it.

That’s the reason.

Everyone needs to give Mikasa a hug.

My blog title for a hug.

-the crossover snake hisses and consumes another-

I am so sorry.

This is fun.

I probably should have just gone with posting and saying so, because I am genuinely charmed by this. I tend to feel like I have to add something to asks to justify the post. That policy maybe didn’t need to be a thing.

I love my anons.

I want that to be clear.

Really, I do.

I especially love their willingness to embrace my crackpot logic.

Still.

Sometimes, the only response one can have to Schrodinger’s Ymir is to ignore its existence, find a pillow, and scream into it for the rest of time.

This replaces typing.

-looks at Armin-

-looks at Eren-

Yeah, don’t know why I didn’t answer this one, either. I blame tiredness? Sorry about that.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one because it felt like work.

This is where I start considering that making this post was a mistake.

I could have just agreed with you and gone about my day.

Probably should have.

Did not.

Another one for that, “had nothing to add so I just left it in a corner, abandoned and unloved,” pile.

There is an apology section at the end, but we’re not there yet.

This one I don’t think I noticed.

Alternatively, I did notice, and wasn’t sure “Yes,” would pass as a good enough answer.

--------------------------------------

Okay, time to really just get into it: I think for the remainder of my inbox, I didn’t answer because physically, I was just too damn exhausted, and I kept waiting for a point in time where I’d feel better. Sorry to put a limit on the personalization, but in the end, that’s all there was to it, and rephrasing it a dozen times will make me crazy.

And here we are.

Well.

Good grief, do you guys even have any clue how much I like all of you?

Obviously there’s a lot of guilt in the above, because I can’t tell you how much I wanted, each time, to give a great answer that would make you thrilled you messaged me. I am so sorry to all of these I didn’t get to. There were days when the alerts in my inbox were the best thing to happen to me, and I never wanted to let any of them go without acknowledgment.

I try to say thank you as often as I can in my responses, because that’s as close as I can get to reminding you all, constantly, that I am grateful for your participation. The only times I don’t say it is when I worry that it’ll look like it’s being done out of habit, not genuine gratitude. Or when I think you might take it the wrong way if I say thanks for a basic conversation. Because you provide me content and make me interested in things I might not normally look twice at.

There are so many instances of people saying hi, and thank you, and wishing everyone well here.

I haven’t been active in the larger fandom in two years, but I have always been so happy that you guys kept dropping by my space anyway.

You are a pleasure and light in my life, no matter how much snark I might throw about.

Thank you all.

#attack on asks #tl;dr #long post

[sorry-apsalar]

See You in a Bit Chapter 2/4: where u at?

Fry woke feeling groggy, slightly nauseated, and with a headache that rivaled his arm for the worst pain in his body right now. Why was it so hot? Despite how much he didn’t want to, he forced open his eyes.

He was in the ship’s pilot’s chair, looking out through the window at the desert. Right yeah, after taking some pain pills with a can of soda he’d sat here to wait for Bender’s return to the ship, ready to start it up the moment he showed up so they could take off as soon as he was on board. Instead, he’d fallen asleep at some point and now it was well into day time, judging based off the bright light glittering off the sand and how dang hot it was in here; he was sweating so much, his shirt was soaked with it and sticking his to his body is places, gross! Far longer than the hour Bender had suggested it would be before he returned to the ship. Which couldn’t mean good things, could it?

With a sigh, Fry started up the ship and cranked up the AC as far as it would go. Instantly as the cold air hit him, he felt a little better. He wasn’t supposed to leave it running when the ship wasn’t in flight but fuck it, he needed it right now. Next, he grabbed his phone – thankfully left on the ship so the plant aliens hadn’t taken it from him like they had with his jacket – and texted Bender. ‘u ok? where u at?’

While he waited for a response, he got up to take some more pain pills and down a whole glass of water with it. Except when he returned to the cockpit to check his phone, ‘Error, text not received. Try again?’ was his only response. Odd, he’d never got a message like that before. He tapped the ‘Try again?’ of course. … But got the same message.

After trying a few more times, he just called instead. It didn’t even ring once. He tried again but… still nothing, not even a voice mail message. … Maybe Bender’s phone parts broke somehow. Which would mean he was damaged and thus likely in trouble.

What could Fry do about it though? He didn’t even know where Bender was. … With today’s technology and lack of privacy, as well as Bender being a factory-made robot, tracking him had be an option.

Even with as dumb as he was, it didn’t take Fry long to figure out how to do it. Just a quick Google search and some fiddling around on his phone and he had a tracker on what he was fairly confident was Bender – it was supposed to be a robot and was the only one around so it had to be him. He was off to the right of Fry’s current location on the map, not up and in the plant city like he was supposed to have been.

Not too terribly far away but still far enough that he really didn’t want to walk over there. He was already sore and in pain, his dang arm broken, and it’d be through the desert at the hottest time of day. But alas, he couldn’t fly the ship over because as soon as it left its hiding spot, the plant aliens would probably see it and landing it again would draw them over. The outcome of which wasn’t likely to go Fry’s way, judging based off his last hostile encounter with them. Damn, the one time he actually had a smart realization and it was this. Why couldn’t he have had his once in a blue moon smart moment before landing them in trouble?

With a groan, he flipped the AC back off. He then stood up and started for the rear of the ship where the exit ramp was. Bender was probably fine, he was Bender after all and a robot, what could a bunch of plants, even if they were angry and mean, really do to him? So when Fry found him, he was going to be mad at him for making him worry and go through this nonsense and he was going to make sure Bender knew that.

 -

Why’d it have to be a desert? Of all the environments his job had ever landed him in, deserts were the worst. … Okay maybe the planets with acid rain had been worse. So really, on the bright side as miserable and hot as he was at least he wasn’t being eaten alive by acid. Not that was really much of a comfort with his head pounding in tune with his broken arm’s throbbing, not to mention all his other bruises. Also, he hadn’t had to trudge through the acid rain like he’d had to do through more deserts than he cared to consider. So yeah, deserts were the worst.

As he crested over top of another sand dune, the city became visible to his left again. So did a landfill, off to the side of the city and immediately in front of him, starting not far from the bottom of the dune he stood atop. A quick glance at his phone revealed that that was where what he was tracking – which he still couldn’t be totally sure was Bender but it was his best bet right now – should be. Maybe Bender had hidden and gotten himself trapped in a fridge or heck, maybe a safe since if he saw one there was no way he wouldn’t try to rob it, or something else similar that had been tossed out here. If so, as soon as Fry saved him, he was going to be the one having a good laugh at Bender’s expense for once because that was hilarious. There was no way Bender would ever be able to live it down.

Already grinning at the thought of how Bender would react to being saved from such a situation, Fry picked up the pace a little, letting gravity help him jog down the slope. Thankfully it didn’t look as if any plant folk were around but he should probably be as fast as he could to make sure he was…

On the outskirts of the landfill, tossed haphazardly alongside and partially covered by more generic looking trash was the distinct shape of the lower half of a robot. … Bender!?

Fry jerked back into motion from the halt he’d come to upon first catching sight the way the sun glinted off the dull metal of the robot’s body. It took him only a handful of seconds to reach it.

Even with the top half being covered by a tattered tarp, it was obvious that something was wrong. The distinct smell of spilled motor oil and alcohol wafted up from the robot, recognizable even through the hot garbage smell coming from the trash heap a few meters away. Only one leg was attached and only barely, the other lay a short distance away as if tossed there disdainfully. Pulling aside the tarp, revealed that it had indeed once been a bending unit. The head was partially crushed similar to how one crushed a beer can in their fist, and forcibly pushed halfway down into the body, the top dented in. What little of the mouth plate that was visible was shattered, only shards remained. There was no trace of the eyes, the metal hood around them bent inward. The body was so bent and dented that the chest compartment door had fallen off, also missing as was one of the arms.

Despite the heat, Fry went cold at the sight of it. But… but… it didn’t have to be Bender. Bending units all look rather similar and with how much damage had been done to this one, it would be indistinguishable from any other, right? So it didn’t have to Bender, couldn’t be in fact, right? … A quick glance at his phone revealed that this robot was the one he’d been tracking. … Still didn’t mean it was for sure Bender though.

Bender wouldn’t die like this. No way, he’d always been nigh on indestructible and far too good at getting away from law enforcement to ever have this happen to him. So… it wasn’t Bender. It was just another random bending unit that had somehow ended up on this planet the same time as them. Unlikely but unlikely things happened all the time to and around Fry. Maybe Flexo had stowed away on board for some reason and got himself in trouble, possibly even been mistaken for Bender; with the head pushed into the body like that it was impossible to tell if there was a metal beard or not.

So then… then… where was Bender? If he’d been able to, he’d have gone back to the ship when he’d said he would. … Maybe he’d been captured and imprisoned? No, he could just bend the bars and get himself out which would’ve angered the guards even more when he got out and then… who knows what would’ve happened? Maybe he ran out of fuel somewhere in the city or palace and needed help. Fry should go look for him there. … But first…

He carefully lowered himself to ground by the mangled robot. He was just going to make absolutely sure it wasn’t Bender before moving on. There was no way it was but… he just had to make sure. Lucky for him, the scorching sun up in the sky was positioned perfectly to allow him to look into the bent and dented chest compartment without having to touch anything or get too terribly close.

Inside was shards of brown tinted broken glass, which could only be the shattered remains of beer bottles. Something any robot would be smart to carry since they ran on the stuff and thus told Fry nothing. Other than that, there wasn’t much in there, which boded well since Bender liked to steal things and thus almost always had something stowed away inside himself. … Except for the fact that, if he had stolen anything it would’ve been from the plants’ palace and thus, they probably would’ve taken it all back, especially since the door had literally been broken off during whatever had happened. So… that told Fry nothing either. …

Bender liked to keep a little waterproof bag that contained things that only held sentimental value in his chest compartment, kept in place out of easy sight with a small magnet. He’d shown it to Fry a few times, one of those times being not long ago and had even told him a few of things that were inside, including a note that Fry had drawn him ages ago, not long after they’d started dating, and the ring Fry had proposed to him with a couple years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Fry forced himself to put his good hand into the robot’s chest cavity – it seemed more a gaping hole than a compartment now. Even being exceedingly careful of the broken glass, it didn’t take him long to find the little bag. He pulled it out to get a better look at it. … It was Bender’s. He didn’t even have to open it to know that because it looked the same and what were the chances of another bending unit not just ending up here but also have the exact same kind of bag and kept it in the same place as Bender did?

Fry opened it anyway though – hard with a broken forearm but doable – because what if…? But no, the ring and the note were inside, as well as a few other things that Fry didn’t dare look at long before closing the bag again. It was none of his business and Bender would be angry if he caught him snooping. Except… Bender couldn’t be angry anymore because he was… dead. Was that even the word to use for a robot? Maybe ‘destroyed’ would be better? Didn’t matter though, the word used didn’t change anything about it, Bender was gone.

His vision blurring with tears as the full impact of that hit him like a freight train, Fry clutched the bag to his chest. It couldn’t be real; Bender couldn’t be gone. It just… wasn’t feasible. But it was. Bender was gone and it was Fry’s fault; he’d stupidly gotten himself into a mess and Bender had been getting him out of it when this had happened to him, and now… it as too late to do anything about it.

Previous / Next

#my writing #futurama #frender #Fry/Bender #main character death #mechanical gore

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/78831778

Chapter 66

Nick woke up with a nasty headache. Also, he felt like he had been lying on a stone all night. His body ached and this didn't help his poor head at all. “Virgil?”, he rasped, because he didn't manage to shout. His husky voice alone felt already too loud. “Ohh...” He figured he could be lying here, waiting for his manager to find him in time, or until he was able to shout again. But then again, his bed still felt uncomfortable as fuck, so he better got out of there. His hands searched the mattress. It felt so weird, almost wet... Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he noticed that his hands were all dirty. “What the...?” He blinked and looked at them. Then he wiped his hands. Dirt...where did that come from? When he took a look around, he found himself surrounded by a bright green hedge. Before he could fuss about the weird room décor, he observed that he was sitting in grass and not anywhere inside. The purple but cloudy sky above him also proved a point. Stunned, Nick remained sitting, hands pressing into the moist grass, and pulling slightly at the stalks.

How did he get here? A picnic? He looked around again. There was no poof that another person had been here with him, no blanket and nothing else. Rather not. So, he had been wandering around and passed out? Well, that was more likely. He slowly put his feet on the ground to lift himself up, feeling sorry for his fancy rags. Another pair ruined, so it seemed. Now he had the honour to find out where the hell he went. He thought he had seen the hedge before, but didn't all hedges look the same? He followed it, cussing about the after effects of the drugs he must've been taking last night, and soon noticed with relief that he had been right about the familiar surroundings. Even though it looked much brighter than usual, he still recalled it was the park in the Avalon Hotel. The maze, more like. He remembered getting lost in it from time to time due to party favours. But now he was almost in a clear state again...he should be fine...After all, he needed something for his head, like right now.

Determined, he continued walking along the hedge, having an odd feeling in his stomach that he also knew already. Yeah, it seemed like he forgot something again and he'd remember later or never. Better never, he thought, because it didn't feel good. The feeling got stronger the closer he came to his statue. He had planned to simply use his secret entrance, in order to not being stared at by the staff. Even an idol needed some nice and quiet sometimes. But walking past the statue without looking at it now felt wrong. He stopped in his tracks and eyed it, still being too far away to see anything more than a little shiny figure. What could be there? Nick sighed. He'd see it anyway, so he could just as well go now... Coming closer, his stomach began to toss and turn, protesting. Nick came to a halt again. Now what?, he said to his stomach. I thought you wanted this. He hugged himself and breathed deeply. His poor head.. he could come back later...cure himself first...but he was almost there. What's this sudden curiosity?, he asked himself. As if I wanted to see...what I did...but what did I do? Feeling stupid about idling around for so long, he went on walking towards the weird feeling. There was no way out anyway.

Now closer, he recognized that the statue looked different. There was something dark hanging on it. A banner? Another “Nick is a prick” kinda thing from a disappointed fan? His stomach said no. He turned his gaze to the ground and forced himself to move on. What could it be? What nasty thing could it be that made him feel like that? It couldn't be real... Looking up, he identified the body immediately.

“Oh, no...”, he gasped but he didn't feel it. His mind had already moved on. Gaze wandering along the lines of the cuts, the mess he had made, the rage he had been putting into all his movements. The chaos was showing. Blood had been tripping from the body and had painted the legs and pedestal of the statue black. The golden Nick held it out to him. The real Nick made a step on the pedestal and pulled himself up. Fixing his eyes on Virgil, he gently put his arms under him, holding the body that still had some warmth. With tears in his eyes, Nick pressed his head against the other man's bleeding chest. It was quiet.

The next moment he recalled was noticing himself wandering through the streets. His feet were moving all by themselves, so it seemed. He had no idea how long he had been walking. He was only happy to realize the trip went straight to home, because he was exhausted. Virgil. Why did he think about Virgil now? Nick smiled faintly. Because the manager was probably worried out of his mind by now. He maybe even missed a gig. Heh. He chuckled quietly. The privilege of being a rock idol. Virgil would forgive him. Entering his front yard, Constable Hunt gave him a shocked look. “Ah, nothing, just a headache”, Nick waved him off and quickly went inside. This Bobby was nice but still too nosey for his taste. “Virgil, I'm home and I feel awful!”, he shouted into the corridor, more playfully than anything else. He was in a state where he still felt the headache but was too giggly to mind treating it himself. “How are you?”

He went into the kitchen to mix himself a cure and shortly after, somebody went in. “Where have you been?”, a familiar but unexpected voice said. Nick turned around, the empty glass in hand, and was surprised for a moment to see the person in front of him again. “Chris?”, he wondered. “Yeah, it's me, Virgil is still out.” The long lost friend said casually and sat down on a counter, eyeing  Nick curiously. “Are you okay? What's that in your face?” Nick put the glass down and wiped some hair strands out of his face. “What? What's wrong with my face?” Chris left the counter and stepped closer. “Are you...bleeding?” Nick wiped his cheek, now annoyed. “No, I'm not bleeding. I'm fine. Look, it's nothing.” He turned around, arms held up, to show himself in full functioning glory. Chris' eyes widened. “Holy shit!”, he gasped. Nick looked down and noticed for the first time that his jacket was full of dark brown spots...they could still be everything...but... “Is that blood?”, Chris asked. Nick pulled up the cloth and wiped it. “I...I don't know...” “Where have you been?” “I don't know...” He gave his friend a helpless look. Then he shook his head. “Of course it's not blood, don't be ridiculous! It's probably lipstick...” He turned away again, forgot about his throbbing head and went out, targeting the stairs. “I know what lipstick looks like!”, Chris' voice contained more panic now. Nick ran up the stairs, wrapping his arms around the bloody jacket and didn't stop until he could lock the bedroom door behind him.

There, he got rid of the crusted clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. In disbelief, he palpated his stained cheek. That was bad. That was very bad. Stepping backwards, he pressed his eyes shut and massaged his head. He felt dizzier now, he could barely hold himself up anymore. He needed his secret stash! Where the hell was his secret stash? Gosh, why did Virgil have to be gone now? He stumbled to the first possible place he could've hidden his precious party favours in. The search made him gather his last bit of strength. Franticly, he went through all the drawers. What he could find where the sad remnants of a once copious stock. They were a few pills, all in different colours and shapes and none of them were reds-and-yellows. “I guess these must do”, he said, holding them in shivering hands, and quickly swallowed them down.

He must've been passed out for a while, before he was awaken by a loud thunder. He winced and stretched himself, relieved to feel better. If only the bloody weather would shut up. Angrily, he pulled the blanket over himself, determined not to move until the fuss was over. “Nick? Nick, open the door! Nick!”, he heard the muffled sound from outside, accompanied by another thunder. Nick moaned. What he had thought to be the weather was actually someone knocking. Gosh, why now? Unwillingly, he went up to open. He failed at first, because for some reason he had locked himself in. Oh, dang, he had promised Virgil not to lock himself in. He should probably give him the keys... Opening, he saw a tall man with glasses and black hair. More precisely, he firstly stared at his chest in confusion and then he looked up to his face. Arthur. Yes, Arthur!

Nick smiled. But for some reason Arthur didn't. “What's wrong?” “What's wrong?”, Arthur repeated, sounding upset. “Tell me what's right! Where have you been? Chris says you came here covered in blood, and then you locked yourself in and didn't talk to anyone anymore!” Nick's face fell. He unsurely palpated the doorframe. “Covered in blood?”, he quietly asked. “That's what he said”, Arthur walked into the bedroom. “I don't know why he should make that up.” His gaze fell on the jacket Nick had left on the floor. Nick's heart missed a beat when he saw it, too. He clutched the doorframe while his lover picked the piece of cloth up like it was a corpus delicti. Nobody said a word when Arthur examined it and obviously found the stains, then let the jacket fall back down. “You know, you still have it on your face”, he said quietly and Nick promptly wiped his cheek. He couldn't say a word though. “I wonder, if someone attacked you, you would be hurt, right? It would be your blood. But you're not hurt...” “How do you know it's blood?”, Nick protested. “I know what it looks like”, Arthur said. Nick winced. Of course he did. “Listen, I...I don't know what happened...I didn't do anything, I swear...I mean...do you think I...? Do you think I could...?” “I don't know”, Arthur answered, gloomily eyeing the floor. “I think I don't know who you are. You could tell me everything, make me believe everything...How would I know?”

Nick's stomach turned. “But Arthur”, he said, abandoning his save place at the door and coming closer to the man he called his love. “You know me...We spend to much time together...Have I been so bad to you? I guess I am a good actor...” He shrugged. “...but only on stage...for the show...you can't blame me for this.” Arthur didn't light up. “Do you know what happened today?”, he asked sternly. Nick stopped. “Except me passing out?” He shook his head. “No...” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Your manager was found dead in the park of the Avalon Hotel, slaughtered like all the others.” Nick stared at him. “My...Virgil?” “Is it his blood?”, Arthur asked, eyes fixated on Nick. “My Virgil...” Nick whispered and turned away, covering his face with his hands. “Virgil...”He gave a few dry sobs, then Arthur grabbed his arm. “Nick! Nick, snap out of it, you hear me?” Nick ripped himself out of the grip. “How dare you! My manager died! How can you think it was me?” “Because it's obvious you're not honest with me!” Nick eyed him sadly. “I hate to bring it up now, but...” Arthur struggled for words. “How could you...?” Nick watched him in confusion. Arthur waved himself off. “You know what? You better come with me and see yourself. I'm...curious what you're gonna say.”

Nick indeed followed curiously when they left the room, but he soon felt a lump in his throat as he noticed which way they were going. Arthur didn't spare him, they were heading exactly in the direction of the room that Nick now wished he had locked. Their journey ended in the guestroom where the Nightblooming Nonsuches still stood on a side table and shimmered innocently. Arthur darted a glance at Nick, but the rockstar only eyed the flowers in silence. “This is Morrie's room, right?”, Arthur asked and Nick nodded in defeat. “You're so quiet”, Arthur went on. “Come on, explain.” Nick winded. “I guess you've already seen the photo on the desk...” “Perhaps,” the other man said without batting an eye. Nick hung his head. “Now, are you trying to find out what excuse would work? Are you wondering how much I know?”, Arthur dug deeper. The other man wiped his forehead. “I don't know what you're getting at.” “I can put one and one together, Nick! You gave me the hint yourself! The thing about loving two people at once? I thought it was about Sally, but...it was Morrie, right? The way you acted around him, how you talked to him when I was passed out from electric shocks...The way you never wanted me here until he died...You even gave him my offering!” Arthur's voice began to shiver. “No, I didn't give it away. Morrie just...He...” “He found out and you didn't want to look suspicious?” “Er...no...I...I don't know how to explain this...it's a weird coincidence and it has nothing to do with what I'm feeling for you...Believe me, Arthur,” Nick begged. “Believe you?”, Arthur blurted out. “How can I believe you anything? You lied to me! You played with me! And with Morrie too! Or, Morrie and you played with me, that's still unresolved but it doesn't matter...” “No, Morrie...Morrie didn't know”, Nick explained. That didn't cheer Arthur up. The look Nick received from him made him shrink.

“Arthur, I love you both! That's what I was trying to tell you! It's like with you and me and Sally!” Arthur shook his head and made a few steps backwards. “I don't love Sally...it was a crush! Nobody loves two people at once! You only love yourself!” “How can you say this? You should know me better! Didn't I make you feel good? Didn't I make you feel like a human being again? How would I do that if I only cared about me?” “It doesn't matter”, Arthur snapped, eagerly shaking his head. “I have to leave! Thinking that I stayed here for so long, only for you! I have to get my shit together and quit!” He sounded more like he was talking to himself. “But Arthur!”, Nick shouted and grabbed his arm. “Where would you go?” “To where I should have gone already!” Arthur freed himself and began to flee. “Arthur!”, Nick cried. “Wait! You're upset! You don't now what you're doing!” “I know very well what I'm doing”, the other man snapped back. “But why would you leave?”, Nick whined. Arthur sighed. “Fine!”, he shouted. “Just so that you know what you've done!” He turned around to face Nick for one last time.

“I have a brother! He was brought to Germany...in the train...You remember, they were taking children to Germany, promising to bring them back some day? Well, surprise, they never came back! My brother is still out there somewhere and I have to find him!” Nick gave him a shocked look, if it was due to the dramatic fate or the memories, Arthur couldn't say. “All I wanted was to get out of here and save him! But then you showed up! You made me turn my back on him, only to play your fucking game with me!” Nick's back hit the wall. “I wasn't playing...and I didn't know...” “Well, now you do!”, Arthur said bitterly. “And also, two people died and you come back all covered in blood! I can't deal with this shit! I don't want to stay for longer only to find out you're a murderer!” He turned away from the other man. “Goodbye, Nick!” “Arthur!”, Nick cried again and followed the angry Downer. “No, look at me! Don't leave me like that! Not like that! You have to believe me...!” “No, you have to believe me! It's over!” Arthur didn't look back. “I love you...”, Nick said quieter. The Downer didn't answer, he only left, without slowing down once, without hesitation. The silence was unbearable. In his front yard Nick stopped, realizing he had no chance. What was a traitor against a long lost brother? Clutching a wall, he watched Arthur leave, wishing the other man would turn back just once, but he never did.

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