#I hope you enjoyed the answer xD

[skyward-floored]

Well thank you :) hmmm, for a prompt. You know about all those fics where twilight losses control while in wolf form? What if that happened and time was forced to fight him? It could be caused by a villain with mind control powers whose cackling in the background as time tries desperately not to hurt his son

If I had a nickel for ever fic I’ve written where Twilight gets possessed/brainwashed and Time fought him I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it’s happened twice—

Anyway eeeeehehe I had fun with this one. This one is a little bit of a hypothetical situation, so it’s in the dubiously-canon pile. Technically canon to the au or not though, Twilight isn’t a little kid here, he’s... hmm, 17-ish? Somewhere around there.

Warning for some blood & injury: it could be worse, but I do think this is probably the heaviest one of these I’ve written 😅

———

“Easy pup,” Time soothed, ignoring the deep growls coming from his son’s throat, and the utter lack of recognition in his gaze. “You know me. I’m not your enemy.”

Nothing but a blank rage shone in Twilight’s eyes as he continued to approach, a snarl ripped from his jaws.

An amused cackle echoed from nearby, but Time firmly ignored it, still slowly circling around his currently-lupine son.

“Come on Twilight,” he breathed, searching for something— anything in those eyes that recognized him. “You can fight this. Don’t let them do this to you, I know you’re in there.”

A growl was all that met him, blue eyes devoid of recognition. Time took a risk and stopped moving backwards, reaching out a pleading hand, and Twilight seemed to hesitate, hackles lowering just a hair.

“Please Twilight,” he breathed.

His nose reached out to sniff Time’s gloved palm, and something flickered in Twilight’s gaze, something familiar.

“Get on with it! Kill him!” a voice screeched, and Twilight’s eyes went black.

He threw himself at his father with a snarl, and Time just barely managed to throw himself out of the way of his son’s jaws. Twilight immediately turned around to come at him again, and crashed into him with what felt like the force of a truck, sending him to the ground with a cry.

Twilight began to snap wildly at his face, and it was all Time could do not to get his neck torn out.

“Twilight stop!” he shouted, calling on his powers and the strength that they granted in order to throw him off. “Fight this!”

Twilight hit the ground but was immediately up again, snarling with his teeth bared wider than Time had ever seen them before.

“Ooh, he’s made him mad now sister!” a voice different from the earlier one giggled. “This is getting interesting!”

“A battle to the death!” cackled the other voice, almost impossible to tell apart. “The great Fierce Deity against his own son! Who will destroy the other first?”

Time gritted his teeth and avoided another snap from Twilight, casting his gaze around the room.

He saw no sign of the villainesses that were forcing Twilight against him, but they must be here, or at least close, eagerly watching the action. The Twinrova were notorious brainwashers, and their powers had not diminished in the slightest since Time had fought them as a child.

How could he break their hold over his son without killing him?

A piercing howl broke his thoughts and Twilight lunged at him again, jaws closing around his leg. Time cried out as teeth pierced his skin, and in a panic he lashed out with his powers, throwing Twilight off and straight into a wall.

The sound his son made when he fell made Time’s heart cry out, but he used the time it took him to recover in order to form a strategy. He’d seen something glint in Twilight’s ear when he’d attacked that time, and if memory served correct, it was almost definitely what was forcing him to attack.

All he needed to do was get close enough to get it out.

Time struggled to his feet, mauled leg barely holding his weight, but he leveled his weapon when Twilight turned towards him again. His breath came fast in his chest as Twilight snarled, but he had a plan now. All he had to do was see it through.

Twilight moved and Time met him, dodging his lunge and trying to get close to his ear without getting ripped apart.

Time was normally quick on his feet, but Twilight was a blur on four paws, snapping at his heels and trying to get at his injured leg, all while the Twinrova cackled in the background. Time dodged as best he could, trying not to hurt him any further, but he was forced to strike back with his own attacks, something in his chest aching every time he landed a hit and Twilight whimpered.

His leg was starting to feel numb the longer he fought, and Time could feel the urge to more fully give into his power growing the longer he deflected Twilight’s advances.

He desperately needed to finish this.

Taking a deep breath and mentally sending out an apology, Time sharply kicked out at Twilight’s ribs, knocking him backwards for mere seconds, but it gave him the moment he needed to get into position.

Time breathed out, preparing himself as Twilight shook himself and stumbled to his feet, and when his son launched himself at him yet again, he didn’t try to avoid him.

Twilight’s jaws closed around his arm, sending a burst of sharp pain up his elbow, and Time forcibly bit back a cry. Despite the feel of teeth beginning to tear through his gauntlets, he used his new position to reach forward and grab at his son’s ear.

A burst of hope went through him as his fingers closed around something hard, and he tore it out of his son’s ear, slamming the small gem to the ground and utterly shattering it.

The effect was immediate. Two identical screams echoed through the room, and Twilight jerked backwards, releasing Time’s arm with his eyes blown wide.

Then Twilight dropped to the ground with a choked cry, one that tore straight through Time’s chest as the enraged screams abruptly cut off. He wasted no time in stumbling his way over to his son, and ran a hand he firmly told himself wasn’t shaking along Twilight’s fur.

A full-bodied shudder ran through Twilight, and he fell back into hylian form, face pale. A small moan escaped his lips as he clutched at his forehead, and Time eased Twilight’s fingers out from where they gripped at his hair.

“Easy Twilight, take it slow,” Time said quietly, and forced himself to look at every injury he’d inflicted on his son.

Twilight had blood smeared across an eye from a hit Time had been forced to take, and there were several other spots where his suit had red stains beginning to soak the fabric, the actual material unaffected due to the fact that he’d been in wolf form the entire time. Another shiver wracked through him as Time watched, and he curled slightly around his ribs, face still twisted in a wince.

Time felt his throat tighten.

What was he going to tell Malon?

“Easy pup, easy,” he soothed as Twilight tried to move, gently gathering him into his arms. Twilight flinched as he was picked up, but immediately sank into his father’s hold, brow creased. “You’re okay.”

“D-dad...” Twilight breathed, then flinched when Time felt his hand along his side. He could feel at least one cracked rib, more likely broken.

Twilight’s breath hitched, but he managed to open his eyes and blearily meet Time’s gaze, still clutching at his forehead.

“I-I couldn’t...”

“I know, it’s not your fault,” Time soothed, and ran a hand through Twilight’s sweaty bangs. “Brainwashing is the Twinrova’s specialty. You did an admirable job resisting them, pup. No one could have done better.”

“...they gone?” Twilight murmured, hope in his eyes, and Time glanced around once before nodding.

“Yes. Though I doubt for good. We should get you somewhere safe,” he said softly.

Twilight’s breath hitched again as Time began to stand, and Time himself swayed dangerously as he got up, but he managed to keep his balance, and used just enough of his powers to easily hold Twilight in his arms.

He wasn’t able to hold back his hiss of pain as he began to walk though, and Twilight, despite his dazed state, picked up on it, eyes catching on the blood on his arm and the limp in his gait.

Realization flitted across his face, and Time saw the exact moment the guilt hit him, a short intake of breath accompanying it.

“I’m-m sorry,” Twilight mumbled in a distraught voice, and Time merely pulled him closer, holding him tight as he continued to plod forward.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he replied in a whisper, closing his eyes.

And I have everything.

[telemna-hyelle]

Do it. Write the song. I dare you.

You know you wanna.

Well, I have a little ditty for you, entitled

"I am Going to Regret This"

...

You have Legend, you have Twilight,

Heroes evil could not destroy,

And Sky, and Wind, and brave Hyrule,

Blorbos that never will annoy

The Old Man and the little Smith,

and scarred Wild cooking with joy,

But Warriors shall e'er stand out

for he is a sassy boyyyyyyyyyyyy~

...

He's not just a pretty face,

a scarf or butt of jokes.

He's a noble hero in his own right

which seems to escape some folks

He's a soldier, and a captain,

a brother and a friend

And when the Quest gets going

on him they all depend!

...

Y'see there was a priestess

Who was lonely all the day

And she got a bit too clingy

Understandable, but not okay

She tried to take the hero

and keep him for her own

To bad for that poor priestss

for Link did not stand alone!

.

OCARINA SOLO

.

A big ol' war was fought then

'Twas both back and forth in time

And sometimes also sideways

With a Princess who does crimes

Friends and foes through history

did clash in grand attacks

And when it ended, our boy had

Stopped Ganon in his tracks.

...

But when the war was over,

LInk had to say good-bye

To all the friends along the way

who did aid and strength supply

He bid farewell, some tears were shed

And then he went to rest

But little did he know, Jojo

had thought up a new Quest

...

It's time for time shenanigans:

Electric Boogaloo

One single hero is not enough

you need also four times two

Yes, nine is the magic number

(Alas, Spirit's out of luck)

And these heroes need a Captain

who reins them in when all's amok

...

For Time cannot just lead alone

He has many things to bear

But Warriors will have his back

and help lighten his cares.

He fights for them, supports them

and with Dink gladly duel

And deftly use the fire-rod

'cause arson is way cool

...

And of course our boy is sassy,

for he knows that words hold sway

A joke and cheerful banter

will distract from cares that weigh

For a soldier and a captain

who fought in a dreadful war

Knows well, my boy, that this peace is

what all true Warriors fight for

...

[townofcadence]

🧵 Nothing. For Mack (jkjk,,, unless,,,?)

Clothing Meme

Mack looks down at himself, at his scarred, thick fur. He looks back at you, downwards given his height, and then further down at himself again. His ears flick. Then he lowers his neck to the ground, where a false foot dangles from a thick cord. It thunks to the earth, slipping along his fur until it falls loose, and he returns his gaze to you, tilting his head quizzically.

[atanx]

any subnautica character headcanons? especially the side characters, they're my faves :]

Sorry anon im normally better at answering my asks :P but alas exams had two write two in a week :)) not fun but anyway! thank u sm for the ask <3

Hhh I have sooo many character hc i could write a novel anon alvnqjcoqofpqf (partly because i do have a wip all about the subnautica characters and the journey to 4546B + ensuing canon divergence but pssshhhh)

So I think I'm just gonna choose the characters I've thought the most about:

2ND OFFICER KEEN

I hc his name as Roman Keen - I saw it in the fic "Survivors" on Ao3 and honestly I think it's a really good fit :3

He's 28 and has been working for Alterra since he was 17, most of which has been with Captain Hollister, who has become somewhat of a parental figure for him. He joined because of a love for flying and space, which his family disapproved of, and so he doesn't get along great with them.

I hc him as genderfluid - on some days, he feels like a man, and on others, he feels like he had no gender at all. He hasn't got himself totally figured out and mostly uses he/him pronouns, being unsure about how he feels being adressed with other pronouns.

He's a gay disaster and crushes pretty easily and hiding that does not come easily to him, although he mostly manages. When he first sees Jochi Khasar, it's instant aesthetic attraction. He finds him fascinating, and Khasar seems to find him fascinating, too, since he starts flirting with him and they develop a relationship over the eighteen-ish month journey to 4546B.

He's ace, and although fine with talking about sex, isn't interested in having sex himself.

Even though he comes across as stiff, he's not actually all that stiff as a person. He is just very responsible and aware and is thus anxious to fulfil his responsibilities as 2nd Officer to the best of his abilities. For things unrelated to work, he is still responsible and mature but not a stick in the mud. He's a fan of adrenaline rushes and actually used to do illegal racing as a teen.

Keen works well under stress, but as soon as the stress abates enough, he will have a breakdown.

He has an annoying-sibling type relationship with CTO Yu >:33

CTO YU

I also liked the name "Emily Yu" from the same fic as before, and I hc that her Chinese name is "Yu Jian" with 'Jian' for strong, healthy.

She is 29, a year older than Keen, which she teases him with, and has been working on the Aurora for 4 years, since finishing her master in engineering with a focus on spacecraft engineering. She worked herself up the ladder by virtue of 1) having a master's degree 2) hard work and successful projects 3) spite (someone (rightfully) insulted one of her ideas once) and 4) a little bit of nepotism.

I hc her as a cis bi woman who uses she/her pronouns. She enjoys both more feminine and more masculine styles for herself, although her style is rather tame and doesn't become hyper-feminine or hyper-masculine. She doesn't like dresses.

She's into Berkely, with her first being sexually attracted to him and then also experiencing romantic attraction. She enjoys his sarcasm and teasing him.

Even though she likes to be silly she gets serious in serious situations. She has a tendency to think that her way is best and has worked over the years to curb that down and be more open to other people's thoughts. When she does truly firmly think that her way is better though, she will stick to that unless presented with a better option and will put everything into trying to make that work.

In very stressful situations she tends to... sort of zoom out, distancing herself from her emotions and achieving a strong focus to do what needs to be done. Afterwards, she struggles with feeling the impact of what was going on, sort of feeling like it happened to someone else. It's a mild sort of depersonalisation. She works well under stress in general but needs some time to recuperate and destress. If she doesn't, her body will respond to the stress via tense and pulled muscles, headaches, stress-rashes etc.

BERKELEY

I don't have a particular reason why but I hc his first name as 'Cedric'. Honestly not too sure on that, if I find one that clicks more for me I might pivot to using that but this is what I've got for now!

He's 27 and he is not a routine member of the Aurora staff. Instead, he is part of the extra engineers meant to oversee construction of the phasegate at 4546B and hadn't met anyone from the Aurora before. He has a Bachelor in engineering but found studying so unpleasant he decided he was not going to go for a master and instead started and apprenticeship into job on a spacestation relating to phasegate maintenance.

He is intersex, which wasn't noticeable until puberty when he started developing boobs. Because he identifies as a man (he uses he/xey pronouns), he decided to opt for puberty blockers and later hormone therapy. He would have been fine with his boobs but society made him feel really shitty about them and he got top surgery.

He works out very regularly because it makes him feel good and enjoys jewelry and make-up, although he hates bracelets that move because he hates the sensation of them moving and bumping along his forearms whenever he has to tinker with something. He is somewhat introverted, not caring all that much for social interaction, and indulges in sarcasm a lot. He doesn't like the feel of long hair so he always wears it in a buzzcut. He's also chubby and built like a (short) bear.

He actually doesn't cope with stress well at all and only made it through school and a Bachelor's degree by luck, a lot of caffeine and the knowledge that if he doesn't manage at least a Bachelor's, finding a decent-paying job he likes will be very hard in Alterra-space. He finds it preferable to listen to others although not uncritically.

At first Emily annoys him to no end but as he gets to know her better (and she also tones it down) the annoyance changes to fondness. They become good friends and he eventually falls in love with her. He is pan and demi-romantic.

[iimexpensiive]

✧ @inmiasma ✧ — (reborn!zha) Little Zha won't say he's envious of the delights of the flesh such as food (or in this caseー alcohol), but surely he's given enough hints right? Like showing up with a fiery open palm and slamming fists rhythmically into your your bar counter? Mercy please? Charity? Would you pour a glass for an old spirit?

"Can't even spare a please there? Where have your manners gone, young man?"

Teasing tone leaving the Great Sage, easily guessing what the other wished for without having to speak. Soft laughter leaving him at the demand from the Lotus Prince. It was quite a display for sure and one that would draw anyone's ire if they didn't know him like Wukong did. Oh no, he always enjoyed the visits from one of his dearest friends — even if he had a habit of teasing and taunting him whenever he spared him these moments of his presence. He couldn't help himself. Nezha had some of the best reactions to his shenanigans, second only to his dear brother Bajie of course.

Turning his attention from the pounding against the counter of his bar — no fear that it would be damaged in the process. He wouldn't do that to him after all, not after the monkey had put such painstaking hours into his custom set-up. Making sure to snatch the best bottle he had for his companion to serve. He only stocked the finest of alcohol in his bar — none of that cheap and tasteless crap would dare be stored here. Deciding to mix him something special for his visit, one that he knew Nezha would enjoy. Plus, nothing like a little entertainment to go along with your drinking experience.

No sooner had the demand for earthly delights been made by the firey prince was there a glass slide into his hand from the king. A little flourish of a umbrella and flowers added by two of his little monkey clones in process. Both bowing afterwards before darting off.

"How's that? Hopefully it's worthy of the Lotus Prince."

[siixkiing]

(from crossed-worlds) (Usiku and Wukong) 32. A kiss while someone watches

((One of them is possessive >:3))

☯ kiss roulette | @crossed-worlds ☯

While Wukong wouldn't say he was oblivious, there were times that he didn't pay attention — clueless sometimes when someone was checking him out or eyeing him in THAT way. Trying not to be obvious as they checked him out, peering away when he turned in their direction. It wasn't that the golden simian wasn't aware that he had an appeal to some and he could admit when someone was attractive — he wasn't blind after all, there had many that had caught his gaze and he couldn't help but admire. Still, he never acted on it nor really cared to, preferring there to be more to it than just thinking someone was hot. Wanting that deep connection.

Which is why he hadn't noticed the gaze constantly being on him, their eyes roving over his figure as he sat. Having wanted to go on another 'date' with his beloved shadow. Taking Usiku to a bar that he thought they both would like — the place casual and fun. Not overly crowded or noisy which suited the two disguised simians just fine in the moment. It seemed though that while he hadn't noticed the stares from the other, his partner had. His own attention on the menu that sat on the bar, trying to decide which peach drink he'd like to order for himself — they all looked so delicious after all. Being drawn away from the selection when he suddenly felt a hand reach out and grip his hip firmly, blinking in surprises before turning to the one seated next to him.

He had been about to ask before he felt the other's fingers grip his chin and crushed their lips together. Drawing a surprised noise from the sage in the moment, softly gasping — allowing Usiku to deepen the sudden kiss. It make his face rapidly heat up and brighten in the moment, shivering softly in response as he returned the gesture all to eagerly. His claws managing to grip the fabric of the healer's shirt. Feeling that all too familiar flutter in his chest and stomach as they sat there, lost in the moment as the bar seemed to fade away into nothing.

It felt like eternity before Usiku drew back, his false golds drinking in the sight before him of the flushed king in his grip. Another soft noise leaving Wukong's lips as he felt that thumb trace his bottom lip. Gods, this man knew how to make him absolutely weak in the knees and he loved it so much. Soft purrs being heard rumbled from him, lost to the noise of their surrounding — but not to the six-eared simian in disguise. Oh no, he could hear them well especially with how close they were in the moment.

"W-What was that for?"

He stammered out lightly, taking a quick peek around to see if any eyes were on them. It wasn't that public displays of affection were something he hated BUT his stage fright made it hard to do anything that would draw attention. Like that kiss for example. Not that he was complaining about Usiku kissing him. Never. Luckily it seemed not many patrons around took noticed and if they had their attention didn't linger long on the two before going back to whatever they had been talking about or doing prior.

"Not that I'm complaining much here, that was...wow."

Ah yes, poetic. Than again, there was no better way to describe that kiss than wow. It was so sudden and oh so amazing — seemingly possessive too in nature. Still words failed to convey just how much he enjoyed it. A fond smile decorating his features as he leaned slightly into his beloved shade just a bit. Completely spellbound right now with him and purring softly away in bliss.

[aparticularbandit]

🌹

🌹🌹🌹

...

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

(I'm being aggressive and I'm only a little sorry)

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP i’m currently writing

oh, fuck you. (affectionate)

READ MORE BECAUSE YOU GET NINETEEN OF THESE. JOKE'S ON YOU. HAH!

...but also a table of contents for anyone else who might want to creep in on these:

Dark!Eve

Agatha Birthday fic

Take A Sad Song and Make It Better Ch. 3

Post-Finding Family Agatha - Stephen Encounter

The Haunting of Westview Manor

What Dreams May Come Ch. ???

Mexican Stud (Epic Superhero Crossover Book 1)

Collateral Damage (Epic Superhero Crossover Book ???)

The House on Ridge Road (Epic Superhero Crossover Book ???)

Dottie as Sin Rostro

Love is Not a Victory March (Roisa Soulmate Timer Book 4)

Clara Ruvelle and the Heir of Slytherin (Roisa HP AU Book 2)

A Christmas Hideaway (Roisa Hallmark Holiday Special Reversal)

Roisa Grinchmas Special (this one’s in rhyme!)

On Myths and Hideouts Ch. ???

On Myths and Hideouts Jess Prequel

Paradise Lost post-canon

Timeless/Noir fusion

The Story of a Girl (Noir fic; Title pending) Ch. 3 - “Shielded by Black Robes”

Dark!Eve:

It’s boring when they don’t struggle.

Dottie’s let her practice on her some, let her bind her hands together, made sure she’s tying her victims down properly, grinned around the gag pressed into her lips, and just stared without making any noise as Eve’s explored. She’s learned – you can’t just rip someone’s fingernail off.  That hurts, sure, but you want to extend the pain.  Start with something small and then build.  You shove splinters and nails under their fingernails first, then you rip them off, if you want, provided there are other nails that you can do the same thing with.

Dismembering usually isn’t necessary.  The people they send her after break long before then, which is good, because she’s never actually gotten to try the dismembering thing. She can’t just cut one of Dottie’s toes off.  Besides breaking a bone is better than cutting it off because then you can still peel the skin back with a knife later.  If you remove stuff, it should be teeth, pried out with pliers.  Sure, they can’t grow back, but there’s not really much more you can do with teeth.

The thing about playing with Dottie is that she doesn’t break, which is fine, really, although she’s pretended to break so that Eve gets the idea of what that’s like, but Dottie is intentionally unbreakable so that Eve can deal with her own frustration when torture just doesn’t seem to go the way it’s supposed to go.  But also playing with Dottie usually ends up in—

She can’t think about that right now.  She needs to focus.

Eve picks at her teeth with the tip of her knife, fitting it carefully beside her canine with a little creak.

Maybe it’s the gag.

Agatha Birthday fic:

It literally goes wrong from the moment Eve wakes up.

Agatha refuses – absolutely refuses – to answer her phone.  Which, you know, on a normal day, that’s just fine.  Agatha has a life.  She has a job.  She’s juggling a lot of things all at once, and sometimes it takes a bit before she can call Eve back if she missed her call.  Usually, when she knows it’s going to be a while before she can call back, she shoots Eve a text to let her know, to check and see if the conversation is something that can happen over text (most of the time, yes, but not always).

But on her birthday?  None of that. No returned phone calls.  No texts.  No texts back, either, when Eve texts her. Just very clear and complete avoidance.

Now.

Eve likes to consider herself a good girlfriend.  She isn’t particularly worried that something has happened to Agatha; she’s too aware of the date for that and figures that Agatha is just hiding. (On a normal day, yes, she would be worried.  This is not a normal day.)  It isn’t like she didn’t do the same on her worst day ever, when Jane wasn’t available as a distraction (for very good reason), but even she had reached out to Agatha.  Eventually. When she’d desperately needed someone there and hadn’t—

Look, Eve understands needing to hole up and mourn, but it is Agatha’s birthday, and Agatha needs her, and Agatha would never admit that she needs her, so she’s going to go pound on Agatha’s door and barge in and make her feel better.  As soon as she gets off of work.  With the hope that Agatha is actually home.

Take A Sad Song and Make It Better Ch. 3:

The thing about hospitals is that—

Well.  There’s a lot of things about hospitals, and we really don’t have quite the time to get into all of that.  Andi’s still out, which does give us a fair amount of time, but I highly suspect that you would prefer to get back to the action, back to the fam, back to the search for the envelope to determine whether or not that they might find it.

Give me a moment.

The thing about hospitals is this: If you have an emergency contact listed with them, then when something happens to you, they call your emergency contact. Regardless of whether or not someone else is there with you, your emergency contact is the person who has the right to make decisions about your life when you are unconscious, the way that Andi currently is.  It’s just simple protocol.

And here’s the thing about that – up until just recently, Claire was Andi’s emergency contact.  Claire knew that.  Claire knows that.  It hasn’t crossed her mind, however, that when Andi reached the hospital they did not call her.  Duke did, but the hospital didn’t.

Because once Claire lied on the stand, Andi took some time to herself. Reconsidered a few things.

And changed her emergency contact.

Post-Finding Family Agatha - Stephen Encounter (because it got prompted):

She told herself she would never actually go in the New York Sanctum again, after that last time, but the problem with telling herself that is knowing that, well.  As long as she literally had an apartment right next door.  Inevitably.

But honestly, she had a rent controlled apartment in New York City.  Sure, sure, she could use magic to override her landlord’s mind and make it completely free (and, sure, she might have already done that once or twice over the past few decades, when whoever inherited the building tried to fuck around with her (How can you be the same resident from over a century ago?  That’s not possible! – Dear, you live on a planet of superheroes that gets visited by aliens, and you think you have some normal human being just hanging out in this apartment?  That you can boss around?  This is why New York gets attacked by every new wannabe villain; it’s not the Worf Effect or a symbol or anything – it’s entitled landlords not remembering that people with powers exist and can punch the ever-loving shit out of them when they get pissed off.  Almost as bad as working in customer service.  Yeesh)) – but what would be the fun in that?  She’s not Wanda, after all.  She doesn’t need everything to go her way all of the time.

Admittedly, Wanda is the reason she’s here in the first place.  Something about America and Wendy being part of this new Baby Vengeance team or something like that (she knows the real name, but she enjoys seeing the frustration in Wanda’s expression when she refuses to use the right term, loves seeing her pinch the bridge of her nose, delights when, eventually, Wanda says, “I’m not even going to correct you anymore, Agatha; I know you’re doing this on purpose” and still sighing with exasperation anyway); something about how they’ve been gone for far too long this time. That thin tremor under her voice that suggests just how worried she’s trying not to be.

For a witch able to control the very fabric of reality in this universe, Wanda has gotten surprisingly good at not sticking her nose into everybody else’s business.

Why would she need to do that when she has Agatha to do it for her?

(In most cases, Agnes would be better, but they can’t get Agnes without having America open a portal to that universe she and Ash are shacking up in, so she’s the next best thing. Besides.  She has centuries of being the New York Sanctum’s nosy neighbor.  It’s just a shame that Cian is no longer here to see it.)

The Haunting of Westview Manor (aka THOHH/THOBM and WandaVision infusion):

She’d always had a hard time sleeping in Westview Manor.

Or.

Well.

She’d always had a hard time sleeping starting with Westview Manor.

She remembers, in flickering fragmented memories, moments before her family had moved into the not-yet-decrepit manor, but they’re few and far between.  Her time living there had so shaped and shifted everything else that it is hard to reach back to earlier, simpler, happier times.  Times when she could sleep and dream of something good – like flying into a sky full of stars and reaching out to each one in turn, hoping to make friends with them. Times that she hadn’t had since—

Well, since Westview Manor.

She’d always had a hard time sleeping in Westview Manor, even before things went bad, and she’d always had a hard time sleeping after Westview Manor, even now when things could almost be called good.

It’s the closest to good she’d had in a long…in a really long time, actually.

But we’re not there yet.  We’re still looking at Westview Manor, we’re still looking at her, slumbering, trying to slumber, and shifting beneath her blankets, unable to stay still, turning this way and that, tangling herself in them, hands gripping her throat until she sits up, gasping for air, blankets falling to her waist.  Back then, she was only a child, brown hair nearly down to her waist if it was ever let free, although she cut it off a few days later, not liking the way it could so easily catch on anything – everything – around the manor.  She always felt like something was reaching out for her, grabbing and tugging on her hair with thin spindly fingers, and it didn’t matter that she would turn and see a statue with a bow or something like that, she still felt like it was someone and not something.

What Dreams May Come Ch. ???:

You are you and you are aware of yourself and you are aware of nothing at all.

Your name is Viola Lloyd, nee Willoughby, or something like it.

Your name is Viola Lloyd.  The year is 1680.  You are at Bly Manor.  Your daughter, Isabel, is five years old.  Your husband is gone on one of his business trips.  The money is running out.

And your sister wants you dead.

You have lived in this room – in your room, you know this room, you know it well, you know it from the way you have paced it so often, so often since you have taken up space within your host’s body – and yet you do not have a host.  You are you and you are yourself and you are nothing at all.

For the past five years, you have been stuck in this room, barely leaving it and being forced back into it when you do by family who are afraid that you will infect them or even more afraid that you will somehow ruin the image your daughter has of you.  This angers you – a rage that has been building over the past five years, not just from this alone – a rage that, it appears, has not left you, even in death. Your daughter remembers you as nothing else but this.  Why should seeing you at your worst make her hate you?  She has only ever seen you like this.

And this?

You know now.

This is not your worst.

Mexican Stud (Epic Superhero Crossover Book 1):

Joan clasps one hand over the hollow where her left eye once was – or she tries to, but it isn’t as hollow as movies and books would lead her to assume.  The bulb that was once her eye is splattered, blood covering her face, the sheets, probably the face of the woman who had been lying above her – but none of this matters.  The only thing that matters is the nerve she now holds in her hand and the popped vessel at its very tip and the incomparable pain pulsing behind where her eye once was.

She doesn’t scream.

Her throat is torn raw, but she doesn’t scream.  She shivers as the pulsing slows down, sparks flying about her fingertips. The rings she’d been wearing – the rings the other woman made to ground her – are smashed, shattered much in the same vein as her eye is, and their metal edges feel shoved into the flesh of her thumbs, her middle fingers.  There’s probably blood there, too.  She can’t tell.

Joan takes a deep breath and sits up in the bed, still cradling what was once her eye in one hand, trying to clasp it to the hollow where it once lay, and it’s only then that she notices how far the electric jolt has carried Rose.  No longer is the redhead on the bed with her; instead, she has been thrown across the room by the force of the blast, and she sits crumpled on the floor beneath a wall that looks cracked by the weight of her. One of her hands cradles her head.

“Was it worth it?” Joan asks, her voice raw, rasping.  She can’t keep the venom, the bitterness out of her voice, even as Rose looks up with a blood-spattered face.  “Was this what you wanted?”

Rose doesn’t say anything at first, and Joan is certain that’s because there is nothing left to say.  With her free hand, Joan tries to prop herself up so that she can move from Rose’s bed, but the hollow where her eye once was throbs.  She takes a deep breath, her free hand gripping the edge of the mattress so tight that her knuckles turn a bright white.  A tile from the ceiling drops with a loud clang between them, but neither of them jump.

“I can fix this.”

Joan starts to whirl to face Rose, but the movement makes her stomach clench.  Her teeth grit together.  “What?”

Rose struggles to her feet.  “I can fix this.”

Joan stares over the other woman’s naked body with her one remaining good eye, and she chokes back a sound that could either be a laugh or a sob. She intends for it to be the former, but she’s in so much pain that the latter wouldn’t be unimaginable at this point. “You can fix this?” she snarls.  “I’m missing an eye!”

Collateral Damage (Epic Superhero Crossover Book ???) (Luisa/Wendy backstory/interlude/etc.):

“Rose?”

It has been three months since the accident.  She didn’t like to think about it in public if she didn’t have to, and for those first few days, she had holed herself up in what was their apartment, because no matter where she went it felt like everything playing on every television in every restaurant or train station or anywhere that had a television on playing in the background was that recurring footage and the big white letters on the blue background: SUPERVILLAIN THE GHOST KILLED IN EXPLOSIVE FIGHT WITH—

The rest didn’t matter.  It didn’t matter who had killed Rose (it was an accident, the reporters said; there were no witnesses), only that she was destroyed so completely that all that was left of her were her teeth and an imprint of her on a wall otherwise covered with shadow and ash.  There hadn’t been any body for her to identify, hadn’t been any call for her to come to the morgue, hadn’t been any funerary arrangements or urns or anything – just POOF! and then the love of her life was gone.

Luisa stared at the redheaded woman standing just in front of her, and her breath catches in her throat because Rose was dead.  But, then, maybe that was why Whitney had directed her to this hair salon to get her hair done instead of her normal one. Maybe Whitney knew something she didn’t.

But, no, before the girl could even say anything, Luisa was convinced that this couldn’t be Rose. She was too young.  Far too young.  (Okay, maybe not that young – she looked the same way, perhaps, that Rose should have when they first met, if Rose hadn’t been changing her appearance to fit how she thought she should look.)  Her blue eyes were brighter, calmer than the tempests that had often been in the midst of Rose’s, and the freckles on her face stood out more starkly beneath her make-up.  Rose had always tried to change her face enough to cover them up, to not have them at all unless Luisa specifically requested them, but this girl didn’t seem to mind hers at all.

And she was—

“No, I’m Wendy,” the girl said, and her voice made Luisa’s heart ache.  “But if you’d like to see someone else, I can arrange for that. You had an appointment, didn’t you? You’re Miss—”

“Alver, yes, I had an appointment, a friend of mine set it up for me, and no, don’t get someone else, I….”  Luisa took a deep breath to steady herself and looked up to meet the younger girl’s eyes. “You just look so much like someone I used to know.”

The House on Ridge Road (Epic Superhero Crossover Book ???) (Dottie Backstory):

You run a hand through her hair.

Present tense – run – when it happens, you’re present; when you remember, you’re present – you understand the past and the future as detached concepts, but you are present in them and within them; you remember and you relive.

You run a hand through her hair.

It’s soft, softer than her hair has any right to be after hours, days, years of being pinned up, sprayed into place, not one strand moving unless you – you, yourself, or someone like you, but there is no one like you, only weak men who fail beneath your own prowess – force them to move.  Her hair is soft and smells of roses.  That’s the bathwater.  You scented it, before—

You scent it and run your fingers through the warm water as you sit on the edge of the tub, rippling, rippling, rippling.

There are no candles.  She doesn’t like candles.  She caught you once playing with the flame – baby lightning in a bottle – sometimes you burn your fingers – Peggy doesn’t like candles or maybe she just doesn’t like it when the skin of your fingers feels raw from playing with them, doesn’t like the way your skin grows back and heals all too easily and the rawness is gone in only moments, doesn’t like the abilities your people stole from vials they were never meant to have.

You’re weaker, in that regard, than the boy she lost years ago.  You know his name, but not because she wants you to know it. She tore it at you, screamed—

She tears it at you, screams it, louder than anything – “He’s a better man than you will ever grow to be” – and you let her say it because she means it and because she needs to say it and you brush the dust of broken plaster walls from your dress and wipe a track of blood from just above your right eye and pop your right shoulder back into place and you stare at her, chest heaving, face all rage and hate, and you know it’s just redirected at the nearest person and that person just happens to be you—

You can take it.  She needs to get the venom out.  All out.

When you look again, her hands are no longer clenched into defensive, aggressive fists; her fingers brush those loose strands of hair back into place; she’ll be sore tomorrow, but she’s not bloodied the way you are.  If you were a normal person, you would have a black eye, but you aren’t a normal person, no matter how much they force you to act like one until they need you.

You rotate your shoulder and it hurts but not too terribly.  You like the pain.

“Are you done now, Peg?  Get it all out?”

Dottie as Sin Rostro:

Time off.

The words are a nuisance for Dottie Underwood, who would far prefer to be sitting in a lair waiting for instructions or set up on location, gathering intelligence or preparing for a hit under yet another alias.  Even the name she used now wasn’t the one she was born with, not that it much mattered.  Crime lords and their best associates rarely used their real names – Elena di Nola was Mutter and her second-in-command was Sin Rostro, whoever happened to be wearing the name on any given day.  Sometimes it was Elena; sometimes it was her son, Derek; sometimes it was her daughter, a woman Dottie had never met; and sometimes, on the rare occurrence that the other two were not available and Elena wanted a proxy, Dottie herself would wear the name.

Names on names on names.

She wasn’t even Dottie anymore now.  When the word slowly grew more and more associated with insanity, she’d needed something a little more sane, a little more…consistent.

Not that it mattered during time off.

She’d painted her hair a bright red to match the blood of her nails and her lips, heightening and contrasting her pale skin, her ice blue eyes.  Some might use smaller terms to describe her – attractive, pretty, hot – and she hated that last one in comparison with the others she’d grown accustomed to in the earlier years – alluring, magnetic, mesmerizing.  Hypnotic.  But she wasn’t looking for words when she walked into the bar, as amusing as the murmurs and the collective hush were.

It was the eyes suddenly trained to her that made her blood rise, the heads tilted in her direction and following her every move that started the bubbling giggle clasped in the back of her throat, the turning of bodies open to her every whim that assured her control.

But it’s to the mostly empty bar that she made her way, the crowd parting for her like hot butter for a knife, and it was at the sole occupant that she paused, brightly painted nails tapping on the counter.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked, her voice soft and full of the innocence and wonder she’d been trained to exude.  “I wouldn’t want to intrude if you’re waiting for someone.”

Love is Not a Victory March (Roisa Soulmate Timer AU Book 4):

Michael Cordero, Jr. had never had a strong fascination with hotels like the Marbella.  He knew they existed, but to him, they had always seemed like tourist traps, destinations for people who didn’t live in Florida, meant for an elite sort of people that he and his family had never and would never be part of.  That made it sound as though he had a strong distaste for them, and maybe, to some extent, that was true, but for the most part, he just didn’t think about them.

That was until his timer went off for one of the waitresses who worked there.

At the time, Michael couldn’t have guessed that’s what she was, and in the years since, years he’d spent watching her from afar while he tracked down a crime lord who had grown mysteriously silent until, finally, he’d been connected to the very same hotel where his soulmate worked, he’d found that distaste slowly growing.  His soulmate deserved better, and he couldn’t wait to see her grow into whatever that better would be.

Mostly he couldn’t wait to spend his time watching something other than this stupid tourist trap hotel and its absolutely unattractive current manager with his rippling muscles that looked like they could burst out of his shirt at any moment or his leggy blonde wife who seemed to have no sense of propriety and wore bootie shorts everywhere like she wanted to be seen as a piece of meat. Not that he was one of those misogynistic assholes who thought that women couldn’t wear whatever they wanted, because he was not that.

He was just growing very, very tired of watching all of it.

Until Roman Zazo fell from a window on the twelfth floor and landed with the sharp point of an ice Marlin piercing through his chest.

Then everything seemed to suddenly grow a lot more interesting.

Clara Ruvelle and the Heir of Slytherin (Roisa HP AU Book 2):

“Hey!”  Clara pushed back against Hermione, shoving her over.  “I told you I didn’t want you to sit with me!”

But Hermione stayed where she was, refusing to get up, refusing to move even after Clara shoved her.  She just turned and gave her a flat stare.  “You’re not supposed to be fighting on the train.”

Clara’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re not supposed to set professors on fire either but—”

“Wait, wait, wait.”  Ginny held up her hands, palms out, and stared at Clara.  “Hermione set a professor on fire?” Her eyes widened, and she looked at Hermione.  “You really did that?”

Hermione gave Clara a blank stare and then turned to Ginny.  “No.  Of course not.  Good students don’t set their professors on fire.”

“Yeah, well, you must not be a very good student, then.”  Clara crossed her arms and leaned back against the plush back of the train bench.  “Since you definitely did that.”

“Clara.”  Hermione elbowed her harshly as she whispered through gritted teeth at her.  “Stop.”

Ginny just turned to Luisa with wide eyes.  “You’re the Hufflepuff!” she exclaimed and grinned.  “You’ll tell me the truth, right!”

Luisa just looked from Clara to Hermione and then winced.  “I, uh, I—”

“Quit making house assumptions,” Janet interrupted, voice flat.  Cat the cat had made his way out of her arms and woven around her neck, his head resting on his paws on the shoulder closest to the window so that he could stare outside with his one remaining eye, his tail on the other end, occasionally flicking against Clara as it moved.  “Just because Luisa is in Hufflepuff doesn’t mean that she’s a pushover—”

“Hey!” Luisa interrupted.

“—just because Hermione’s in Gryffindor doesn’t mean she’s brave—”

“Hey!” Hermione echoed Luisa.

“—and just because Clara and I are in Slytherin doesn’t mean we’re going to kill you or try to take over the world.”  Janet’s wand tapped against her arm a couple of times.  “Although, now that I mention it, taking over the world does sound like fun.  We may try and do that anyway.”

“Janet,” Clara hissed, elbowing her. “We’re not going to take over the world. That is way more work than either of us wants to do.  And you would have to pretend to get along with people – all that hand shaking and playing nice and everything – and I don’t think you’d like that very much.”

Janet sighed and nodded once.  “You’re right.  I wouldn’t. Maybe we postpone the taking over the world thing.”

A Christmas Hideaway (Roisa Hallmark Holiday Special Reversal):

“No, Daddy, I won’t be home for Christmas.”

Luisa has perfected the art of lying to her father about mundane things, particularly over the phone.  It started years ago when she was in high school, lying about stealing liquor from his cabinet whenever he asked with eyes that had initially shifted to look towards the ground and then eventually grew to facing him directly with a strong jaw, and continued through college, lying about how much time she was spending studying for her classes when really she was spending most of her time out with her friends doing almost anything except studying.  At some point, he stopped calling (or she stopped answering).  His time was – and still is – much better spent working on his company than inquiring into his children’s life.  Not because he doesn’t care.  He does. Luisa is certain he does.  That just isn’t how he shows it.  Mostly he shows it by staying out of her life or by giving her whatever she needs, money-wise, whenever she asks for it.

The not being home for Christmas part isn’t the lie.  The next part is.

Roisa Grinchmas Special:

Down at the hotel, far from their harsh glances, lived the other woman, whose drunken dances on tabletops naked with far too much glee were probably not meant for you or for me, especially since she had gone off the drink, tore it from her bar, and poured it down her sink. Yet still in her form she held both style and grace and often used these to make others’ hearts race. Her smile lit the room far better than fire and her heart burned like it would on a pyre for people and family who she held most dear, for whom she would shed far much more than a tear.

On Myths and Hideouts Ch. ???

City Hall feels like a bad marriage between Greco-Roman architecture and modern, streamlined, minimalistic design.  The former is a bad habit of all American political buildings; the latter is likely Storybrooke – or Regina – specific.  There are columns and a lot of black and white, which Rose hopes is not indicative of Regina’s way of thinking or her morals (she doubts this), and some wallpaper of trees, which should be rustic, but because it’s in black and white, it isn’t.  It works a little better than most people would think, but Rose – who spent way too long as Emilio’s interior design decorator for his hotels – doesn’t think it works at all.  She likes the black and white better than the Miami beach vibes that the Marbella put out, but only because she’s gotten plain sick of the Marbella after the last several years.

Regina stops at the secretary’s desk before heading into her office, leaning over just enough to give Rose a good view of her ass.  This is intentional.  At least, if Rose had done it, it would have been intentional, and she suspects that Storybrooke’s mayor runs on the same general wavelength that she does.  She can’t say just why she suspects it, but she gets that general vibe.

“Jessica, dear, clear out my meetings for the rest of the day.” Regina glances over her shoulder at Rose as though she hopes to catch her staring.  Her expression falters and quickly fixes itself when she realizes that she isn’t.  “I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

Regina’s secretary – Jessica, apparently – lifts her head and glances over to Rose.  The two of them look quite similar, although Jessica is, for the most part, thinner and more angular than Rose is, with the exception of her chest, which almost seems impossibly big for how small the rest of her is.  Her Crayola red hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and she pushes thin black frames up her nose, brilliantly cerulean eyes peering out at Rose with a lack of interest as she takes her in.  “Of course, Ms. Mills,” she murmurs, and her voice is at once both demure and alluring.

Regina Mills might try her hardest to seduce Rose Alver, but she will not get anywhere near as close as this Jessica does within the first five seconds.

Rose swallows once, and her gaze flicks back to Regina.  Maybe that ass view wasn’t for her at all.  Luisa had thought Regina had something going on with the sheriff, but at this moment, she’s pretty sure that she actually has something much more interesting going on with her secretary.

On Myths and Hideouts Jess Prequel:

Jessica Krupnick sees a lot that she does not mention.

Well.  This would mean more if she had someone to mention it to.  She has no friends in this little town, although she is certain that she could if she tried.  She has never felt that impulse to try.  People seem to think of her first as Mayor Mills’s secretary, the woman the mayor chose not as her right hand woman – the closest person in Storybrooke who came to that was Sheriff Humbert, who insisted that everyone refer to him as Graham (or at least, he insisted that to Jessica every time they spoke, and she consistently pretended as though he didn’t) – but as the protector of….

Well, her, if you wanted to think of it that way.

Sheriff Humbert protected the people.  He was a physical failsafe.  Jessica protected her office.  She was a mental failsafe.

And sometimes, Jessica considers as she sees Henry speeding into the office, skidding across the marble floors on his shoes with the biggest grin on his face she has ever seen, she protects her heart.

Paradise Lost post-canon:

Francis tapped the steering wheel of the U-Haul with the pad of her thumb. The air conditioner rattled a little too loudly as she drove, overwhelming the soft tunes crooning through the radio.  Davis sat in the middle seat, belt tight across his waist, and Reynolds sat in the passenger seat, elbow resting on the door and staring out the window at the passing landscape.

“It’ll be cooler once the car warms up,” Francis remarks, reaching over and tousling her youngest son’s hair.  He’s sticky with sweat; U-Hauls were nothing more than metal boxes, and in the Southern humid heat, it had cooked itself until even touching the seats felt like it would burn through their skin.  It was only made worse by the shorts they were all wearing, pushing exposed skin against burning fabric.  At least she had convinced the boys to wear t-shirts instead of tank-tops.

Davis was easy enough to convince, but Reynolds….

Reynolds wasn’t wearing a t-shirt the way Francis wanted.  Instead, his shirt was stretched so that it hung about him more like a wife-beater than a shirt, and the sleeves were stretched so that they might as well have not been there at all.  She was certain if he was wearing a normal shirt, the sleeves would be rolled up to feign a tank within seconds.

This was all just the influence of the football team and his father’s friendship with Dickie.  That may have fallen lax in the past few months as the divorce dragged on, but Reynolds had maintained his friendship with Dickie’s son – and no amount of Francis telling him it was a bad idea did anything.  In fact, she’d refrained from saying much at all, outside of suggesting that he should choose his friends wisely and hoping that Yates suggested the same.

Considering the fight he’d allowed between the two of them, Francis sincerely doubted he had.

Timeless/Noir fusion:

It happened at the end of her last class of the day.  Lucy felt the vibration of her phone – a longer buzz indicative of an email instead of the shorter one for a text – where it rested in the left pocket of her slacks.  She stepped outside of the lecture hall, shuffled her students’ papers and folders (it was essay day, and some of them still used folders although she’d said multiple times that she preferred they didn’t), and pulled out her phone.

Emma Whitmore.

Lucy didn’t recognize the name, but it could be from a student wanting into one of her classes or a professor asking for her expertise on one of their projects.  This wasn’t too unusual.  Probably a student – she knew most of the professors on campus by name; even if she’d never met them, she’d likely heard about them from one of the other students in passing.  She’d never heard of a Professor Whitmore, though.

Her eyes scanned the email.

Standard fare for a professor help request – doing a bit of research, wanted to speak with someone more knowledgeable about the subject (mostly time period, maybe some political history), etc.  There were a few lines that felt a little off, but Lucy chalked that up to what she expected was likely a new hire who was unnecessarily intimidated by her own pedigree.  And while it was odd that Emma hadn’t used her school email, given the more professional setting, it might be that she wanted to keep everything involving her research organized separately from her student emails.  Lucy couldn’t fault her for that, either.

She sent a quick reply – yes, along with perhaps meeting for coffee or drinks Friday afternoon – and then promptly forgot about the entire thing as her phone rang, another incessant and immediate buzzing.

“Amy?”  Lucy braced the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she moved her pile of essays and folders once more.  “Slow down!  What happened this time?”

The Story of a Girl (Noir Fic; Title Pending) Ch. 3 - “Shielded by Black Robes”:

The attackers dodged.  That was the first thing she noticed, the first of many problems with this scenario. They dodged.

The second problem was when one of them somehow caught the knife she threw at his forehead.  He smirked at her and threw it back so fast she barely dodged it herself.  These mooks were good.

But Chloe was better.

Whereas before she stood her ground next to the pillar with only the occasional dodge, now she began to race forward, a knife in each hand. The men pulled out their guns, finally finished reloading them, but she was upon them before the first trigger could be pressed.

Below.  Sweep the leg.  Beneath, behind.  Knife to the side, the neck.  Catch and hold while shot at – meat shields are the best kind because the shots go both ways.

Throw him away.  Dodge.  Roll. Bite.

The blonde stepped out from behind the pillar, aiming and shooting and moving, all one fluid motion, she a panther, lithe and strong, and Chloe a cheetah, swift and deadly, spotless.  She saw the shot from the gun, aimed toward the blonde, fast, too fast – the blue eyes once so icy now so warm and wide—

No.

Her teeth dripped blood that day.

[galaxythreads]

Hey, I was wondering - do you make playlists for your stories? Or do you ever imagine playing out scenes in your stories in a music video type of way? I'm particularly interested if you have this sort of thing with Igniting Fire? (I haven't fully read it yet unfortunately, but from what I have read I find it super intriguing - particularly the characters Aksana and Neko.)

yes, in general, i have one song that i listen to repeat when I'm writing fics that i think relates to that fic. Come Little Children by The Fox + the Hound, for example, I listened to almost exclusively while working on the Weeping Siren.

For Igniting Fire specifically, yes. I have a massive playlist I actually spent more than an hour splitting apart into character playlists (something i've been meaning to do for a while):

Isabella Alvarez: + the song I consider to be their theme: Brutal - Oliviga Rodergio

Neko: + the song I consider to be their them: Born Alone, Die Alone - Madaline Duke

Hazel Williams: + the song I consider to be their theme: Freak - Molly Sanden

Aksana Morozova: + the song I consider to be their theme: Underworld - CYPRSS

Hitori Adachi: (who does not get a link because his playlists spoils too much) + the song I consider to be his theme: Faded - Alan Walker

--

For Igniting Fire specifically, my playlist/fake soundtrack:

but if you're more like, whoa, would be great if I could just listen to songs you (the author) thought related to each chapter:

brutal - olivia rodrigo

can you keep a secret - ellise

overwhelmed - royal and the serpent

drama club - melanine Martienz

uh oh - sub urban, ft. benee

american dream - mia vailie / my body lies over the ocean - jasmine ash

bruises - ellise

beautiful crime - tamer

control - halsey

savages - marina

lilith - ellise

silence is all i have now -  Kurt Hugo Schneider and Lynnea M

[intergalacticfloralexplorers]

Intermission 2! The crew is at the Awakening Woods now! 

-Alph and Olimar go into a cave to try to find purple and white candy pop buds, Charlie and Brittany are surveying the area with the Hocotate ship giving them a tour, and Louie is trying to figure out a nice thing he can do for Olimar as a way of saying thanks. 

-These three events happen at the same time, progressing with asks to each character. Story wise, a bit more development to Charlie's conflict. Rigol grieves over Vio much to other pikmins confusion and with the help of Astur, they end up discovering a ancient mural. Louie finds a secret garden where the Snagret Hole is (thanks to Blue!), and O and A are unsuccessful finding any candy pop buds (odd…)

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

Event 3: Part 1

-the next day, the crew wake up to find the Drake landed back on the Awakening Woods. The ship alerts the crew that Louie has gone off early, but left some wildflowers on the table for some odd reason.

(The small batch of flowers include: periwinkle, clover, lavender, dandelion flowers, etc.)

-Olimar is led by a blue pikmin (Blue, the reincarnation of Ne, holder of the strange flower) to the secret garden where Louie is. 

-The koppaites, not worried at all, decide to just take the day to explore the area some more. 

-The Hoco Ship stays behind, claiming he’s not feeling like himself, which the crew is semi confused about, but just brushes it off simply thinking it's just Rusty being…rusty.

- before this however, the asks were bound to have people telling Alph to smell one of the flowers, insisting he must even if he is allergic (lol). Alph reluctantly agrees and smells a lavender. A very dramatic pause later, he comedically sneezes and begins to question the askers before being hit with a memory. 

-A memory of Alph with D(ead) by his side as they watch over his body in a white room. Then another memory (from A’s perspective) where Character D(?) is reaching towards him, telling him to smell the flower. (The Landing Event from the beginning!)

-Alph snaps back to reality by Charlie, who right behind him is D. Watching. Looming. 

-He blinks and D is gone.

-Charlie asks again if Alph is alright. Alph responds that he is fine, and the two head out along with Brit outside.

—————————————————————————————————

((Again, two events occur at the same time before coming together so I’ll go over them one at a time!))

-Alph tells Brit he would like to speak with Charlie alone, so she reluctantly agrees and feins recalling a fruit she forgot to retrieve. 

- C and A walk around the woods, stopping to battle a few fiery blowhogs. Charlie would have been happily answering a few asks before Alph gains the courage to ask about D.

-Alph begins to question Charlie about who D is (along with asks pushing questions too), C finally breaks and yells that he has no idea if D was even real or not. We learn that he believes he just…imagined them during his lonely solo missions.

-Alph is left dejected, C puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him to not bring up D again.

-But then C spots someone behind Alph

-the tall, bleeding transparent figure of D. 

-C stumbles back in shock, Alph asks if Charlie is alright. C bumps into a red pikmin(Astur) carrying a bomb rock, causing the pik to stumble, nearly dropping the bomb but manages to not drop it.

- But Astur ends up right inline of a blow hogs fire

-C and A look in horror as the bomb detonates.

-Olimar is worried as he is led by several pikmin (including Blue and a rock Pikmin, Magnolia) to the Snagret Hole. The little group begin to travel past the cave deeper into the log. Olimar is astonished to find a full garden inside. 

-The garden would’ve looked similar to a rest area, but with a variety of flowers, big and small. A tiny pond with a small river would be in the center, lined with rocks also varying in size. Spectralids and flutterbies are seen fluttering around.

-Olimar is amazed, marveling at how such a cave exists while the outdoors is getting cold. (Awakening woods here would have been fall themed to match the games changing its season every game. Pik 1 was summer, Pik 2 was spring.)

-He is startled by Louie suddenly appearing by his side. O learns that L sent the Blue to lead him to the garden. So they chill here for a while, Oli doodling and taking notes while talking with Lou and answering asks.

- Lou asks if Oli is ok after…well…everything. O has certainly been through…a lot. Bad luck seems to follow this poor guy wherever he goes.

-Olimar tells Lou not to worry about him, O claims he’s gotten quite used to the troubles the Pikmin planet throws at him, which makes moments like these all the more special.

-The two sit in silence, being present in the moment. 

-Lou slightly shifts closer to Oli, his hand inching closer to his hand

-Oli notices Lou shifting around, and asks if he has anything to tell him. Lou is noticeably very very nervous, slightly stammering as he reaches behind himself about to pull something out before…

-BOOM!

-The two hear an explosion in the distance. Oli gets up to investigate the outside, Louie is visibly (slightly comedicly) frustrated at the interruption. The Hoco Ship comms the two alerting that 1, Charlie is down and 2…THE FOREST IS ON FIRE!

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

Event 3: Part 2

-Alph wakes up with a very heavy weight ontop of him. (It’s Charlie, milliseconds before the bomb blew, he shielded Alph and promptly got knocked out from the explosion.) 

-A manages to push C off and is left momentarily dazed, wondering what just happened. Brit runs to his side, having heard the loud explosion. 

-The explosion caused the surrounding area to set on fire. Brit comms the Ship to teleport Charlie back to the Drake, but her koppad isn’t working (neither is Alph’s…weird)

-So A+B use the few pikmin they have left to carry C back to the ship as the fire continues spreading…

-meanwhile, Olimar commands Louie to collect wayward pikmin(not in the fire) and bring them back to their onion. O goes to the Drake to bring out some reds but notices a gathering of pikmin around the onion. Confused, he attempts to whistle them over.

-Ontop of the Onion is a yellow pikmin(Rigol) seemingly speaking to the crowd. They and a majority of pikmin(notably blues, yellows, and winged) look to Olimar with blank eyes. These pikmin return inside the onion. A majority of Rock and Red pikmin listen to Olimar’s whistle, with only a few handful of blue, yellow, and winged following. 

-The onion then proceeds to fly up into the air, and split in half! 

-The first onion lands back on the ground(Red and Gray, we’ll refer to this one as…the onion), while the other onion flies to the direction of the fire(blue,yellow,pink, we’ll call this one the Tri onion)

-Olimar is left stunned

-The HOCOSHIP exits from the Drake, telling Oli she’s lost track of ABC’s signals in the fire. Olimar regains focus, and takes a small squad of red pikmin into the inferno. The Ship refuses to let him go into the flames(too dangerous, it's not worth the risk, etc) but Olimar goes in anyway.

-JUST as Oli goes into the fire, the Koppaites return to the base. Rusty’s about to express their relief but Brit interrupts, annoyed that he didn’t receive their distress signals. The ship immediately defends herself, saying he didn’t even receive ANY notifications.

-Louie arrives at the base, having retrieved several wayward Pikmin. He asks where Olimar is. 

-A and B are left shocked as The Ship remembers.

-“Wait. If you three are here, and Louie is here as well…Olimar-Olimar went into the fire to look for…”

-A comedic pause between the crew, before Louie bolts directly into the flames

-The ship commands A and B to prepare for liftoff while he retrieves O and L

-Alph protests, wanting to help but Brit says something like uh, “dude we just got OUT of the fire. Let’s not go back there.” (I’m great at dialogue I know /sarc)

-A then asks, “but… what about the fire?” B hesitates before saying “well, there’s not much we can do about it…nature will naturally ease the flames.” Then adds, “who knows, maybe it’ll be good for the forest.” 

-Alph agrees, and A and B both return inside the Drake

-We cut to Olimar calling for the Koppaites but to no avail. He hears a Pikmin cry nearby. He discovers a lone red pikmin cowering in a hole, a wound on their forehead. (Later, they are known as Clover)

-He gently helps them out of the hole and calms the little pikmin in his arms. The red pikmin in his squad appear to be pleased with their captain.

-The HOCOSHIP is flying above the forest fire, trying to detect his crew mates through the flames. They spot the Tri Onion from far away, dunking itself in a lake. Rusty is puzzled by that, but focuses back on her mission.

- Rusty finally manages to contact Oli, pinpointing his location and briefly comms Oli to yell at him. (“You idiot! Why would you do such a selfless, reckless act?! Now Louie is looking for you too!”)

-Olimar immediately began to focus on finding Louie, the ship following him from above the forest.

-We cut to Louie, who’s also looking for Oli. L is coughing and holding his chest. The smoke from the forest fire seems to be affecting him to a much greater extent than the others. (Must be a bug in his oxygen filter…)

-he then spots something glowing red in the distance. L begins to walk towards it, thinking it’s Olimar

- But as he gets closer, Louie freezes. 

-It’s the Smoky Progg. 

-Louie runs the opposite way, trying to get away but ends up collapsing. His coughing is getting worse, and his nose appears to be bleeding. The Progg slowly approaches L.

- Louie is terrified, thinking that this was the end…

-*CRACK*

-They both look up. A large tree branch is falling.

- The branch lands between the two, creating a wall between them. 

-The Progg turns away, disappearing in the flames

-L is left frozen, wide eyed.

- He hears Oli calling for him, and spots his red antenna light. They both reunite, Olimar expressing his relief while lightly scolding Louie. 

-Then Oli whistles behind Lou, red pikmin begin to climb down the tree the branch fell out of. It’s revealed O was the one to save L!

-The ship comes down to teleport the two(and the squad of reds!) into his cargo, and flies back to Drake. 

-We see the Tri onion hovering above the forest, spreading a light water mist that slowly dispels the flames.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ prev/next part tba

[juniperhillpatient]

I'm the anon who asked about the Atla characters as prisoners and I was thoroughly entertained by your responses. I was wondering if you could do the adults as well

Omg YES so glad you enjoyed my responses xD

For context, anon is referring to THIS

Okay, I'll be totally honest, I generally put less thought into the adult ATLA characters than I do the kids BUT I will TRY

Kanna & Hama are arrested together for conspiring to take down a corrupt government official. You can interpret whether that means assassinating, exposing through leaking secret documents, whatever you want! They are lesbian lovers who are plotting against the government together though, that's important to me.

Kya is in prison for taking the fall for someone else. I think it fits her character to be self-sacrificing. Maybe she figures out a way to go down for Katara's eco-terrorism plot while Katara goes free. I'm so sorry, but it is better than her dying, right?

Hakoda is in prison for operating an illegal (but not necessarily unethical) business operation. Perhaps a speakeasy of some kind, with dancing, music, and good drinks. It's very fun until it gets shut down :( Bato is also in on this operation.

Michi & Ukano are in prison for embezzlement from Ozai's billionaire company

Ozai is in prison for illegal business practices including helping his favorite employees with embezzlement, worker abuse, embezzlement himself, and probably selling illegal weapons undercover & laundering money all as part of what he'd hoped to convey to the public as a legitimate business

Zhao is in prison for being a serial killer. This is based on him being a serial killer in nearly everything I write, for whatever reason. I don't even know, he just gives me them Ted Bundy type vibes, y'all.

Ursa is canonically responsible for an assassination, so I like to think she'd be in prison for that same crime in a modern AU :D

Iroh is in prison for giving marijuana to kids, including his nephew. This is based on this post that makes me laugh every time xD

[despairforme]

Wow having a vacation is great, I hope mun and muse both are having a great time! Also, Nnoitra , do you have a dream vacation? Like... where to go, where to stay, what to do? (Both to mainverse and canonverse because Quinto's concept of this must be fun af))))

❝ Vacation, huh? ❞ He tasted the word. It was kinda unfamiliar to him. Nnoitra really enjoyed his job, so he never felt like he NEEDED to take a vacation from it. Surely, it would be nice to go somewhere though, right? Where would he want to go? Honestly, these days, he was NOT in the mood for planning a vacation. Something like that would take a lot of mental energy out of him, and he simply didn't have that. He was balancing his mental state rather well. It had been a while since he'd had a REAL low. He knew this couldn't last. The problem with going somewhere, as far as he knew, was that it would not make a difference. He'd feel the same. He'd still feel down. If he could take a vacation from himself, that would be fucking sweet. Of course, that was impossible. He tried to imagine where he'd wanna go if he had one of his really good days. What kinda place would make such a day even better? Someplace warm, for sure. Nnoitra loved warm weather the most. He also enjoyed nature. The greener, the better. ❝ Maybe I'd wanna go 'ta some kinda jungle. ❞ He suggested out loud, more to himself than to answer the question. He was rather lazy, so he would not want to just go into a jungle with a survival kit or whatever. It would be better if there was a nice hotel, with LOTS of food. But not too many other people. Some hot chicks or some hot guys would be a good addition. He wondered if such a place even existed. There was the possibility of bringing someone (hot) with him on the vacation, but he'd rather go alone. He didn't want the hassle of having to chit-chat with someone 24/7. Then he wouldn't get to relax, which SURELY was the whole fucking point of a vacation.

❝ Oh, is Aizen plannin' fuckin' vacations 'fer us? ❞ Hah! AS IF! In any case, a vacation was completely wasted on him. He'd feel like shit wherever he went. This heavy burden on his shoulders would never go away. He wasn't even going to answer this stupid question. But he couldn't help but think about an answer regardless. He'd want to go somewhere he could see the stars. It was the saddest thing about Hueco Mundo. The black, starless sky above. He didn't know what exactly counted as a ' vacation ', but for sure... He'd like to go someplace he could see the stars.

[skyward-floored]

Ooooh, another thought for your Incredibles au writing! I know you've already done a Malon rescues Time from Majora, but could you maybe continue your story from Plane and simple, where they have to rescue him now from Dark Link? (I've finally read through everything you've got on AO3 for this au, and I'm at work for three more hours, but I had to get this to you before I forgot!) Thank you, you're amazing! 💖💖💖

I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t written much of that scene yet! (though I am planning to!) XD

I’m sort of working my way through the movie events starting at the beginning (with changes of course!) and since Time being freed is a later on one, I don’t have very much of it written.

Buuuuut, all that being said, I have worked a fair amount on the scene that comes directly after Plane and Simple. They’re not at the point of saving Time yet, but it’s leading up to it. And since you asked so nicely and I’d hate to leave you without anything, I’ll share the scene as it is right now! It still needs a little editing, and is subject to change of course, but this is what I’ve got so far :)

(The scene before this one)

———

Malon brushed some sopping wet hair out of her face, looking around at all her sons treading water alongside her. They all looked pale and shocked, eyes wide with adrenaline, and were looking to her for direction.

She took a deep breath, ignoring all her aches and pains she had received in the past ten minutes or so, and pushed away her anxiety.

Time to get down to business.

“All right. Those were short-range missiles. Land-based,” she explained, then pointed off towards where the trails from the missiles were still in the sky, lit by the setting sun. “That way is our best bet.”

“You want to go toward the people that tried to kill us?” Wild gaped, and Malon nodded.

“If it means land, then yes.”

Legend frowned from his piece of debris, brushing his bangs out of his face. “Surely you don’t expect us to swim there?”

“It’s gotta be miles away,” Wind murmured.

Malon gave them all a firm look. “I expect you all to trust me. We’ll make it work, just like we always do. Now come on, let’s get to work.”

They quickly rigged up a flotation device then, pulling debris together with Malon’s lasso to create a rather messy raft. Malon held her rope tight as they all piled on, almost afraid the raft would fall apart if she let go, but the knots held. Legend turned into a rabbit to save space, and Hyrule quietly held him as Wild kicked his legs with his super speed, propelling them across the waves, Wind helping where he could.

Land eventually came into view, just like Malon had said, but it was well after dark by the time they all made it to shore and dragged themselves up onto the beach, both physically and mentally spent.

Malon collapsed on the ground, taking a moment to let her aching muscles relax, and glanced over at who had landed next to her. Wild lay a little ways away, looking half asleep on the sand as he breathed heavily, exhausted from helping propel the raft. He caught her staring and shifted to look back, still out of breath.

“What a trooper,” she murmured with a smile, reaching over and brushing a hand through his hair. “Good job hon. I’m so proud of you.”

Wild smiled tiredly back. “Thanks mom.”

They all eventually dragged themselves to their feet, making their way up the beach and to a nearby cave. Twilight and Legend gathered a few pieces of driftwood so they could make a small fire to dry off with, and by the time it was built, most of them were shivering from their damp hair (though the suits were doing their job, Malon realized to her relief).

The warmth helped though, and soon they were all huddling around the little fire. Wind and Wild were both leaning tiredly against Twilight, looking half awake, and Hyrule sat next to Legend, the two of them slightly huddled together.

After a long while, Malon let out a tense breath, and they all turned to look at her.

“I think your father is in trouble.”

Legend snorted at that. “In case you haven’t noticed mom, we’re not doing so hot ourselves.”

A few chuckles went up at that, and Malon stood, sufficiently dried and rested from her time by the fire. She stretched a bit, loosening her stiff muscles, then dusted off her pants.

“I’m going to look for him. And that means you’re in charge until I get back Twilight,” she instructed.

“Aw, what?” Wild and Legend complained at the same time.

Twilight smiled. “You heard her.”

“Mom, you can’t just go by yourself,” Wind protested worriedly, “these guys are—”

“Dangerous,” Malon interrupted. “And trust me, I’ve been in this sort of situation many times. I know what to expect, and you all don’t, so I want you to stay here and stay safe.”

She reached into her pocket then, pulling out the masks Fi and Ghirahim had given her, which she handed over to her boys.

“Put these on,” she said, and they all gave her slightly confused looks. “Your identity is your most valuable possession here. Protect it. And if anything goes wrong, use your powers.”

Wind frowned. “But you always say never to use our powers in...”

“I know what I said!” Malon said with a surge of exasperation, and they all went quiet. She sighed and took a steadying breath, then gave Wind an apologetic look.

“Do you all remember the bad guys on those shows you sometimes watch on Saturday mornings? Or the ones in the books you all like to read?” she asked, and they nodded. “Well, these guys are not like those guys,” Malon explained seriously. “They won’t exercise restraint because you’re children. They will kill you if they get the chance. Do not give them that chance.”

Her sons went silent, but nodded as she finished, their expressions equally worried and serious.

“Twi, I’m counting on you,” Malon said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be afraid to use your abilities. You’re stronger than you think.” He looked intensely worried, but nodded anyways.

“Mom?” Hyrule said quietly, so quietly that Malon didn’t realize he’d spoken. “There’s something I...”

Malon still didn’t hear him. “I’m counting on you all. Be strong, Wind, make tornadoes if you have to. Don’t be afraid to use your skills Legend, Hyrule. And Wild, if anything goes wrong, I want you to run as fast as you can.”

Wild perked up immediately, a huge smile on his face. “As fast as I can?”

Malon smiled back. “As fast as you can.” She leaned forwards and drew them all into a tight hug, then stood up again. “Stay hidden. Keep each other safe. I’ll be back by morning... with your father.”

Then she slipped out of the cave.

She’d barely reached the edge of the jungle when a voice called her name, and she turned to see Hyrule jog up, his face distressed.

“Mom, before you go, I just wanted to say that what happened on the plane, I-I’m sorry. I wanted to help, I mean, when you asked me to, I just...” he stuttered, then lowered his head. “...I’m sorry.”

Malon felt her heart ache, and she placed her hands on Hyrule’s shoulders before drawing him close, giving him a quick hug.

“Oh honey, it isn’t your fault,” she murmured gently, “It wasn’t fair for me to suddenly ask so much of you, I’m sorry I yelled.” She pulled back and met his eyes, giving him a serious look. “But things are different now, and doubt is a luxury we can’t afford.”

She cupped his cheek in her hand, and Hyrule swallowed, still looking uncertain.

“You have more power than you realize, honey,” she said more softly, “I know you can do this. Don’t think so hard. And don’t worry. lf the time comes, you’ll know what to do.”

She let go of Hyrule, and gave him one last reassuring smile before she turned and ran into the jungle.

“It runs in the family.”

[risu442]

9, 24, 31, 37, 57 🟦 for the song asks :3

-@vegasandhishedgehog

Hey! Thank you so much for the asks! 😍💕🙏

9. Do you have a favorite band?

Yes, the GazettE :3

24. Do you play any instruments?

Sadly no. I always wanted to try to learn the guitar - even when I was 4 and I touched the guitar of my brother's friend - it mesmerized me. I am so weak for that. But no, I'll never afford one so... but I won't die before I'll be able to play Polly!

31. Who’s your favorite fictional band or artist?

Nittle Grasper/Bad Luck! From the anime Gravitation! My first BL and I just adore it and these two bands are perfect!! Funniest bands ever -w-

37. If you could travel in time and go to a concert of an artist who’s no longer alive or a band that’s no longer together, who would you choose?

Nirvana, not even hard to choose.

57. [Send me a color and I’ll tell you the first song it reminded me of.] 🟦

I am sure it's because of the blue stage lights they use almost whenever it comes to Cassis, but yeah, this live version(s) came to my mind!

[cannibalcreeps]

could you write something could with any of the brothers from wrong turn? you are nearly the only; and best writer in this small fandom.

Aaah you are so kind <3 I appreciate you so much for your kind words, how about something sweet today for the Hilliker boys —---------

It was one of those days that looked like it should of started out great but clearly was this day was out to get Three-Fingers hard. It was a dreary one for sure, the fog was low and chillingly cold, the perfect cover for a hunt as the Hilliker boys were eyeing off the snoozing, camping trespassers in the West Virginia Forest Mountains. One-Eye was with Saw-Tooth, jagged knives in hands as they crept towards one of the tents together while Three-Fingers went for the second tent alone, it was supposed to be a quick and quiet job, a slice to neck and easy bagging. 

But One-Eye being the clumsy fucker he was, knocked over an electric lantern whilst Saw-Tooth was leaning over to place his knife over a man’s throat. The clutter woke up everyone, causing a chain of events from Saw-Tooth quickly slicing the man’s throat to dispatch him quickly and then slamming his fist into the woman, that began screaming like a banshee, face over and over until she was knocked out and bloodied. While for Three-Finger, he was not as lucky. The knocking of the lantern and the screaming of the woman had shocked the man and woman awake in the tent he was sneaking into before he was even fully in, he launched himself at the man with a screech but had missed as the two people rolled over. The tiny cannibal got his head hit with fists and a heavy bag, his hand grabbed and twisted as the man was wrestling the knife from his hand and the woman running out of the tent into the arms of his middle-brother. The man was overpowering him, punching him in the schnoz and cheek, but what came next was the most pain this feral cannibal had ever felt. With the ball of his heel, the man had stood and slammed his foot down on Three-Finger’s thin leg, which had been in an awkward twisted position, so hard that Three-Fingers would claim the snap could have been heard all across the forest.

The squeal that came from his mouth sounded like a mix of a throttled cat and child, he didn’t have time to react when the man's foot collided with his face, causing his nose to bleed out more and made the cannibal see stars. But after such a hard blow there was nothing else, no more kicking and punches, nothing but silence for a good few seconds and then followed by a gurgled groan as the body of the attacking man dropped next to him, a bleeding gape in his neck. 

Saw-Tooth had come in and slammed his knife from the back of the man’s neck until it pierced right through and poked out of his throat, twisting it hard until pushing the man over.

After the event, One-Eye had decapitated the last woman’s head off at the command of his older brother and helped Three-Fingers to the passenger side of the truck before helping to load up the dead bodies. Three-Fingers was quiet through the trip back home, holding a cloth to his bleeding nose and keeping his pain to himself about his now broken leg, Saw-Tooth made no sound or motion to show he cared as he knew it would just offend his younger brother, but he was worried, at times sneaking glances too see how bruised up and twisted his brothers leg was.

Once they parked outside the hut, Saw-Tooth motioned for One-Eye to go unload the bodies, giving him a ‘Don’t’ look when he saw him go to Three-Fingers door, he understood One-Eye wanted to help his injured brother and didn’t think about how it would bruise Three-Fingers ego, but for now it was best to not make the small brother feel more miserable than he already was. He would watch Three-Fingers hobble out the truck and to the hut door, the man having to hop as to not put pressure on the fucked up leg.

Whilst the youngest was getting inside, Saw-Tooth helped his other brother get the bodies in as well to dice up and store away, while the two larger men where busy Three-Fingers began looking for some wood and bandages to begin splintering and setting his leg, for now his mind was set on fixing himself up but he appreciated the two leaving him alone, he disliked being fussed over like a kicked puppy. When he was successful on finding what he needed he began to switch out of his usual overalls and button up to another button up but this time some loose pants so he could roll them up to his knees and proceed to splinter his leg straight.

It was not a fun process, very uncomfortable to lean so much on the side of the bed and not bend his bruised up broken leg, letting out a deep growl when he strapped the wood against it to be hard and stiff so it could not move, all the while the two other men were cutting up their victims and placing flesh, meat and grit in different containers to store. He could feel eyes on him as he shuffled onto his bed to lay down once he was done with his leg, the saddened worry of One-Eye and caring stare of Saw-Tooth, though from an outside perception it would look like he was sending a death glare at his brother.

Wiping his hands from blood on a spare cloth, Saw-Tooth grabbed his water satchel from his waist and headed to where Three-Fingers laid, snatching up an extra pillow from a bed he passed, of course it was One-Eyes who let out a whine that he lost a pillow, so he could put under Three-Fingers broken leg. He ignored the small man’s snappy huff, shoving his water satchel into the man’s hand as a demand to drink while he made him comfy, looking at Three-Fingers bruised up nose, brow and cheek which would heal in a matter of hours.

While Saw-Tooth was tending to the youngest, One-Eye was finishing up the last of the victims, he felt some guilt for alerting the people, had he paid attention to where he was stepping then Three-Fingers wouldn’t have gotten jumped like that, a large pout formed on his soft face, hairless brows knitted as he thought about what he could’ve done better, almost slicing the tip of his finger with how he wasn’t paying attention to his butchering. His guilty, saddened look did not go unnoticed though as Three-Fingers chittered out for the man to come over, One-Eye obediently listened, wiping his slimy reddened hands on the same cloth Saw-Tooth used and shuffled on over to his smaller, busted up brother.

He expected to be chastised or swatted at for his failure at being sneaky and attentive, tensing up when he got closer and Three-Fingers reached up with a hand, but what came was a kind pat to his arm and gentle chittering and grunting of Three-Fingers expressing he shared no ill-will to his brothers mistake, he was showing forgiveness at it warmed up One-Eyes chest that Three-Fingers was not upset with him.

He felt another hand on his back that was giving a ‘Everything is okay’ pat that came from Saw-Tooth as he stepped away from the two so he could return to storing and cleaning up the bloodied meaty mess in the kitchen. Knowing he was not in trouble and neither brother was mad at him, One-Eye followed the eldest with a cheerful smile whilst Three-Fingers decided to nestle into his bed and sleep away the pain.

It would not take long for Three-Fingers to heal up, the Hilliker boys were odd in their abilities to bounce back after being beaten and broken, as though he had not gotten his leg smashed in the rascally, thin bastard of a cannibal was back to scampering and clambering around three days later, his leg having healed up and now just an ugly colouration of greens, yellow and purple.

He was appreciative of his brothers being so kind to do his part of the chores for those three days and let him laze around, even though he would have liked a longer break being kept from joining hunts was too much and so he was back in the field again, ready for the next hunt with his brothers.

[worldly-diversity]

@rosafulmen​ ○ 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕟𝕠𝕨 ○

          ⤷  『  “  i just want to be done.  i’m tired.  i’m so,  so fucking tired.  ”  』

He knows where she's coming from, honestly. It's been… one crazy mess after another and every day almost feels further away from the end goal than the previous. Suppose that's what happens the more you learn about what's going on behind the scenes but easy is by about the last way anyone could describe it.

That it'd crack Lightning enough to actually admit something like that to him though… That he hadn't been expecting.

The others were asleep or seemed it a little bit further behind them, with Light taking first watch and Snow having opted to join her. Surprisingly, she'd only barely grumbled at him over it for once, but he didn't like being alone with his thoughts either so he figures it works out for the both of them.

Anyway, maybe it's the stillness of the night or maybe it's cause the others are all sleeping that she chooses to show some very rare vulnerability, but Snow feels kinda honoured it's him she's exposing it to despite her growing bond with Hope and even what looks to be quite the fun friendship of a sort with Fang. No shortage of people to talk to, really. Yet for some reason she'd picked the one guy on the team who knew her best, go figure. And here he'd always thought the less people knew about miss stoic the better~

Teasing thoughts he isn't about to ruin the moment with by expressing them aside, he sighs softly and gazes up at the stars, fingers brushing over the necklace he hasn't so much as left off his person for a second since it all happened.

"I know what you mean." It's a soft murmur, perhaps uncharacteristic is what some would call it if they heard him like this, soft spoken and careful rather than boasting and impossible to topple. Even a hero's gotta get a break in there somewhere at some point, right?

"Feels like every step forward's about two steps back, doesn't it?" Yet, even so, neither of them will give up while there's still breath left in their lungs and a fight in their bones. He knows that about her as well as she knows it about him, kinda like a connection… Bah, look at him getting melancholy.

"We'll get there sis, you'll see."

.

[iimexpensiive]

✧ @somniaxperdita ✧ — ( ↪     𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 , 𝑰'𝑴 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑾 - ᶰᵒ ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡʸ ˒ ᵗᵒᵒ . 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑚 𝑖? ) "i'm kidding . where's your wit gone ?" My goddess au liv @ your king? 👀

An overly dramatic gasp leaves the old sage. His wit? Oh, he feels wounded at the mere idea that it was gone. Placed one hand against his forehead and the other clutching his chest — playing up the dramatic act to the extreme in the moment. As if hurt by such accusations.

"My poor pride — "

" — alas, my abilities have been lost to the temptation of the bottle it seems and it's siren call. My one good quality I had left vanish."

Falling down to his knees dramatically — a few moments of silence being held before he couldn't hold it in. A choir of laughter leaving the simian at his little stunt.