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tartglias · 4 years

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almost falling (headcanons)

characters: scaramouche and xiao

warnings: VIOLENCE. i’m 98% sure i kept it slight but just in case don’t read if you’re sensitive please!!

request: “Anyway, so I'm requesting for Xiao and Scaramouche (fitting, they're sadists HAHA) their s/o (separate) is about to be thrown off the balcony after someone pushed them and hit the railings and they're about to hang on edge of their life. The boys just came back after whatever mission or errand they finished and saw the blasphemous attempt of a masochist (because how DARE they attempt such on their s/o?) Trying to kill their love. They sprinted or used their powers to get to them and stopped calamity from unraveling (sorta) into their world. Yes add some Overprotectiveness and probs them hunting to rip that masochist's head if it's not too much. Headcanons pls--“

[a/n: i loved this headcanon and i knew what you write from the start (which i never do lol), but the mental gymnastics i had to do to find the vocabulary omg... i can’t say i’m a big fan of how this turned out because of that]

•••••

Scaramouche

Scaramouche had to do some business in Mondstadt, and since you wanted to visit your friend Amber, why not accompany him? It took a while to convince him since he usually doesn’t like the idea of mixing his personal and work lives, but he has a soft spot for you, believe it or not. Not that he would ever admit it.

Before he left you to do your things, he made you promise to meet him at the Good Hunter after an hour, on the dot. He had a busy schedule, but he still wanted to treat you lunch so you excitedly agreed by kissing his cheek and nodding.

After the meeting, he hoped to see you sitting down at one of the tables waiting for him, but instead, he saw no one. “I thought I made myself clear about punctuality” he thought.

“Did you see my partner? They’re about this height tall, *hair color* and probably accompanied by some friend called Amber?” he asked the girl that took orders at the Good Hunter, with a very obvious fake smile. “Not really, I’m sorry” she said, giving an apologetic look, which quickly turned into a frown. “Although, I thought Outrider Amber was out on a mission today. She even ordered some food supplies this morning, are you sure your partner was with her?”

He took a moment to think. He knows you were meeting with Amber because you kept rambling about how you haven’t seen her in forever and you wanted to surprise her. He can’t recall a time when you lied to him, either. Something about having an honest and open relationship with him, so you couldn’t have lied. And you wouldn’t leave the city without informing him, either.

So he decided to scratch out the possibility of having to search you through all Mondstadt. Then, he nodded towards the girl and left without saying a word.

Walking through the city, he paid attention to details. Something was off, he was sure of it.

After a while, he heard a yell. At first he wasn’t going to do anything about it, it’s not his problem plus he still has to find you. But when he realized the owner of the voice yelled “Leave me alone!”, he knew it was you. He ran towards the origin of the sound and found out that you were on top of the wall that protected Mondstadt.

He climbed as fast as he could and when he got to the top, his blood boiled at the sight.

A big tall man was holding your arms tightly, and then pushed you to the edge. Your back hit the railing and you let out a pained yell. You saw the man approach you with intentions of pushing you again, but before you could lift your arms to protect yourself, you heard thunder.

“You heard them, leave them alone. Now” you heard Scaramouche say. The atmosphere became dark and tense very quick, making a shiver go down your spine.

The man let out a short laugh. “You can’t intimidate me so easily. They were mine first, I’m just reclaiming my property”

Oh boy

“I don’t think you heard me, stupid. Leave them alone, now. Or I’ll make sure you suffer the most painful and slow tortures ever imagined. I have a whole book I want to test out anyways, you know.” Scaramouched threatened, and when you saw the look on his face, you gasped. You never saw him like that

He had a creepy smile, no, it was the smile of a sadist, actually. Small thunders came out of his fingers, and by each second, they grew stronger. You noticed that the man started shaking, now reconsidering everything. Scaramouche tilted his head a bit and let out a laugh. “You don’t want to play anymore?”

The man quickly left, or more like ran for his life without sparing you a second glance. You dropped down to the floor and noticed the sky get clearer, and so did the sound of thunder. You were still teary-eyed and overwhelmed from the situation with the man, but you lifted up your head to see a calmer Scaramouche.

You didn’t notice before, but his purple eyes were sparkling with pink thunder, and once he kneeled down in front of you, they turned back to their original color.

He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close and away from the edge. “Are you alright, my beloved?” he asked you, a hint of concern filling his face. “Now I am. Scaramouche... I never saw you like that” you said, holding his hands that previously let out sparks and thunder.

You heard him sigh. “I lost control. Your scream and then seeing you almost falling... it made me snap. I can’t lose you.”

You kissed him, hoping that this way he can understand that you’re not scared of him and also reassuring him you’re not going anywhere either.

“You scared him for life” you said once you pulled away, laughing slightly. “I’ll scare him for eternity because he won’t be alive after I catch him”

Xiao

He told you numerous times to call his name if you ever found yourself in trouble. Even if it’s just a whisper, a thought even, you just have to say “Xiao” and he would drop whatever he was doing to come to rescue you.

In full honestly, you thought you could handle things on your own. You didn’t need him to come to rescue you, unless a very real danger was knocking on your door. Which unfortunately, leads to this situation.

Moments earlier, you were at the top floor of the inn, waiting for Xiao to come back. Everything was normal, until you noticed two suspicious looking men approach you. At first, you didn’t think much of it since adventurers often ask you for certain locations or roads. But this thought quickly changed when one of them came from behind, a little too close for your liking, before covering your mouth with his hand.

“A little birdie told us you’re close to an adeptus” one of the two men said, standing in front of you with a smug smile. “We need a favor”

It happened very quick, you were fighting for your life as you screamed and tried to kick the man holding you down. You almost succeeded, if it wasn’t for the other man in front of you. He held your arms tightly and pushed you towards the edge, you lost your balance and tripped over it, but quickly managed to grab onto the railing.

“Go on. Call the adeptus for help, we’ll love to have a small chat with-“ the man started saying, but got cut off by a strong wind that made him trip over. It was Xiao.

His eyes immediately landed on you, you were trying so hard to lift yourself up but you were slowly slipping. You weren’t going to last much longer and rage filled both his body and mind almost instantly.

How dare they lay a finger on you to get to him? “Worthless. Pathetic. Stupid.” he muttered each time he hit the men, until knocking them out. His eyes went back to you, and he immediately sprinted towards the railing.

But he was late

Your hands that desperately tried to grip the railing and lift yourself up were red and they hurt, and just when he was about to extend his hand for you to take, you slipped and fell.

You thought it was over, truly. You yelled out Xiao’s name as you tried to get hold of anything that could possibly prevent you from hitting the ground, but you were far away and the floor was coming closer and closer. You closed your eyes, ready to face your end.

But that end didn’t come, and you found yourself wrapped in Xiao’s arms while strong winds surrounded you, keeping you from hitting the ground abruptly. Once his feet touched the floor, you heard a faint sigh of relief from him.

Now on the ground, you dropped to the floor while you sobbed in Xiao’s arms, suddenly very aware of how close you came to meeting death. He kept you close to his body, as if you’re gonna slip away from him again. He faced many monsters and wrath in his life, but he never felt as scared as he did at the moment.

“I’m sorry” Xiao muttered out once your crying calmed down. Drying your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked at him questioningly. “You almost died because they were after me”

This made you cry more

He was kind of confused? Why were you crying again?

“Xiao you don’t have to apologize because its not your fault at all and you also saved me! I should apologize for not being careful and tripping!” you sobbed again. “But it’s not your fault either...” he whispered as he patted your head, not sure how to calm you down.

Xiao doesn’t kill humans, but nothing is going to stop him from making hilichurls, mages, and other monsters appear in the way of these two men. He’s going to make them pay (indirectly)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche scenarios #scaramouche imagines #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #xiao scenarios #xiao imagines

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nad-zeta · 3 years

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Mitsuhide- Mealtime Mayhem

Fandom: Ikesen

Pairings: Mitsuhide x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1700+

Comments: Eeeeep HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINEKO!!!! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤Hope you have the best day! ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈 @mineko811

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ

You reached for the doorknob of your shared apartment, key turning slowly as you went to step inside. Feet aching after the long day at work, you passed through the doorway, excited to greet your lover but instead being met with a puff of white smoke. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth as a cough ripped through your chest. You dared to trudge deeper into the apartment, kicking your heels off and leaving the door ajar— in hopes that the smoke would disperse to hopefully at least restore some of your vision.

You felt around the room blindly, cautiously walking to avoid stubbing your unsuspecting toes against any chair legs or counter corners.

You spotted him there— amid the smoke— white hair blending in all so perfectly. That dense mist-like smoke creating an eerie feel of mystery and danger, perfect to disguise the mischievous fox within. You couldn’t help but think it suited him.

You sauntered up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and standing up onto the very top of your tippy toes to peek over his shoulder to see the absolute disaster he was creating. “Whatcha making there love?” you asked curiously, giving him a loving peck on the cheek.

Mitsuhide turned around, a snakelike smile plastered across his features as if there was nothing out of the ordinary— as if he wasn’t there setting your house on fire with his culinary train smash.

He expertly evaded the question— master of avoidance and deception— or so he liked to claim—standing in front of the smoking mess, to shield it from your prying eyes. “Welcome home, my dearest mouse,” he beamed, holding your cheeks hostage between his hands to keep your eyes focused solely on him.

To humour him or not to humour him, that is the question?

Making your choice, you ducked down around him, shaking your head at the scene in front of you. “What in the world? Are you trying to imitate your latest investigation?” you teased, shooting him a playful little grin over your shoulder.

“It’s nothing to be concerned with, my dearest; now pray tell how your day has been,” he hummed out, trying once more to distract you with hands falling onto your hips, nuzzling his nose against you lovingly.

“My day,” you started, sparing the dodgy pan a final glance before turning to shrug off your coat as you took up residence atop a nearby kitchen counter. “ Was busy as usual, nothing to write home about,” you reported nonchalantly.

It was a long and tedious day, filled with the usual work, politics and chaos, certainly not the most ideal way you wanted to spend your birthday. On the contrary, you wanted nothing more than to spend your birthday at home, with Mitsu. Guilt tugged at your heart when you thought back to the morning— being greeted with soft cuddles and golden eyes filled with a dazzling glint of excitement at the prospect of a day off. He rarely got time off, and your heart sank even further, knowing the amount of effort and strings that needed to be pulled to allow it. Yet alas, the universe had different plans for you, as shortly after hearing out all the thrilling plans he had made, you had gotten a call summoning you into work.

“Whiskey?” you sighed out, breaking the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. Without waiting for an answer, you reach across the counter to take hold of the whiskey bottle and two glasses. You poured the golden liquid into the glasses, adding a few ice cubes before holding one out towards Mitsuhide.

“My, are you certain you would not like to write home about your day? The stiff drink certainly is telling, mouse”, he teased with amusement and hints of concern, swishing the knife in the air casually before cutting up some onions and throwing it with the unidentified contents of the still smoking pan.

“Would you write back if I do,” you met his tease with a tired smile, handing him his drink and clicking your glass with his.

Mitsuhide simply shook his head, chuckling while taking a sip of the golden rye. “If your heart desires it, little one, now wash up. Dinner shall be ready momentarily,” he nodded, turning back the pan and adding some water from the kettle with brows furrowed in concentration, causing even more smoke to rise up.

You hummed contently, hopping off the counter, changing from your work clothes into your PJs— not wanting to linger too long; after all, you did want a kitchen to come back to. You crossed the threshold of the dining room only to see Mitsuhide set out two bowls onto the dining table with a proud smirk plastered across his face.

You swallowed, preparing yourself for the horror that was the meal you were to eat. Making your way closer, you inspected the bowl of goo with wide eyes. “So what do we have on the menu tonight chef,“ you asked, slipping into your seat—hoping to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Mitsuhide shrugged and booped your nose in response, “just a simple meal made with love.”

You hummed, picking up a fork —ooh, you could not bring it over your heart to take a bite— so instead, you just moved the food around in the bowl like a fussy child at dinner time.

“Gracious, you’re not even touching your food, my love. Here, shall I help you.”

He scooped up a healthy helping of the sludge-like substance onto a spoon and held it out for you to taste. Your lips pursed, eyes narrowing at its contents. What in the 7 hells was this supposed to be? He brought the spoon closer to your lips, leaning forward to rest his chin on his other hand.

“Come now, little one, how are you to grow into a mighty mouse if you don’t eat the special birthday meal your husband lovingly prepared for you, hmm."

“I don’t think I will grow at all if I eat that; if anything, I think death will be imminent,” you quipped back.

“My my, how you wound me so, if you keep rejecting me, I may very well just burst into tears,” Mitsuhide sighed out dramatically, bringing his hand over his heart in mock hurt— yet the way his golden eyes shone told you he was anything but hurt.

“Fine! Fine!” you finally huffed out, turning your face back, wrapping your hand around his to bring the spoon to your mouth. Only a little taste, you thought with a gulp. You stopped short of your lips, praying to any and every god that you would be spared from the horrors of food poisoning.

Oh, how he tried, it warmed your heart, really it did, but the culinary genius inside you was screaming. Finally, you closed your lips around the spoon, letting the flavours coat your tongue; whatever it was, it was beyond fixing, so much so that you could almost hear Gordon Ramsay’s comments of the meal echoing in your head. Of course, the texture would be fine, Mitsuhide could execute that part well enough, but the taste, GOD, the flavour was a dead giveaway of a certain someone’s taste or rather lack thereof.

You swallowed the contents, trying to school your features into a carefree smile, only the delicate muscles of your face had not gotten the memo, instead pulling into a sour, scrunched up expression. “Mmm, this is great,” you managed to get out, sounding far less sincere than you had meant it to.

Mitsuhide, on the other hand, burst into a fit of cackling laughter. You realized then, you had been played. The cackling continued even after you narrowed your eyes, sending him an icy glare,” oh dearest, this is precisely why I love teasing you so.”

You crossed your arms and turned your face away with a ‘Hmpf.’

He tried to get your attention, but each time you turned away with a huff. “Has a cat caught my darling wife’s tongue,” came the amused words from the man you loved so dearly as he curled a stray lock of your hair around his fingers.

You dared to cautiously sneak a glance at him, only to see a broad grin littered with mischief. You quickly turned your face away once more, fearing he might see straight past your pouting facade. With mischief marrying his eyes, his hands moved toward your sides to tickle you mercilessly, “perhaps I shall use my skills as a detective to get you talking.”

You held out as long as you could, but the ticklish sensation caused laughter to bubble from your chest, “M-Mitsu s-stop, -stop,” uncontrollable laughter wasn’t the only sound to file into the room as your stomach let go of a large growl in hunger.

Of course, you had not eaten all day and, that, whatever it was, was less than satisfying to the taste buds.

Mitsuhide continued to chuckle as he shook his head, pulling out his phone to give it a sparring glance, “truly you amuse me to no end, my love.”

He leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose while gracefully swooping up the unfinished bowl of goop. Taking elegant strides back to the kitchen, he shot you a smile from over his shoulder, “the pizza should be here soon,” the confession finally came.

Jumping from your seat, you ran after him. “You massive troll!” you accused, rolling your eyes and reclaiming your spot on the countertop to wait for the ACTUAL food to arrive while watching him clean his mess.

“How you flatter me so,” he purred out, slithering closer to you. That earned him another roll of the eyes, yet, you still found yourself inching closer to rest your forehead against his as you exchanged loving smiles. He met your soft lips in a fleeting kiss, then, hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“Happy birthday, my dearest,” was all he said, planting one more kiss onto your lips. You felt him slip something into your hair, and before you could question, his phone rang, causing him to turn on his heel and attend to it.

With a dazzling smile, you gazed upon the bellflower pin he had placed into your hair. His features softened as he matched your smile with one full of love for you. One thing was for sure, Mitsuhide may be an incorrigible tease, but you knew when it came down to it, he loved you with all his heart.

#akechi mitsuhide #ikemen mitsuhide #mitsuhide fanfic #mitsuhide akechi x reader #ikesen akechi mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide akechi #ikemen sengoku fic #Happy birthday mineko!#Here is a lil sneki boy to make the day a little sweeter

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thedeviltohisangel · 3 years

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She Was Mine, I Was Hers//2

And she hated that she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know where he was or where he was going or what was really happening. She had her own ideas. Gathered an opinion based on her history with him. But she ached with the thought that maybe she never knew him at all.

masterlist is my url/writing

accepting requests for this pairing

She had heard about Germany. Seen the wall to wall news coverage of the Avengers going to war with themselves. Watched with horror as Bucky flashed across the cable channels. It had been hard enough seeing him blamed for the UN bombing but now...now it seemed she really had no chance of seeing him again.

She couldn’t say that she had no regrets over leaving him. Her reasons for doing so were honest. She was losing herself and place in the world by being on the run with him. It had never occurred to her that leaving would mean never seeing him again. That Bucky would keep running and running and would never leave a trail for her to follow. And it kept her up at night, wondering if he had the capacity to forget her. Compartmentalize their time together. Shove it to the side and move on with his life the way he had for decades.

----

Lucia had ended up settling in Cape Town. It was remote enough that no one from her past bothered her but modern enough she needn’t go far for a bottle of wine or a new tube of mascara. A part of her knew that if she had gone to America, that would be a nail in the coffin of her and Bucky. He would never be welcome there after all he had done. So she stayed far away in the hopes one day she would find it in herself to accept the life he needed to live. Find it in himself to accept the life she needed to live. Or maybe they would be forced back together.

She paused her reading of Proust as the lights flickered in her apartment then shut off, cloaking it entirely in darkness. “It’s not even windy,” she groaned as she got up to go and see if the other units were as dark as hers. A peek out the window told her they weren’t. Her heart beat a little faster at that. Bucky had told her, long ago, that she might be used as leverage against. Explained to her the warning signs of how that would happen. Targeted isolation was one of them.

“Bucky said to give you this. So you knew you could trust me.” She screamed as a man’s voice pierced the silence, her eyes searching the living room to try and find some sort of barings. Out from the moonlight stepped Steve Rogers. “I’m not here to hurt you. Promise.” He extended a hand towards her and in it was her nightgown. The silk one Bucky had loved so much. The one that had been missing the morning of her flight. Now she knew it was because he had taken it. Had kept it with him all this time.

“How did you get that?” she asked, afraid to touch it. All of her strength was being used to keep her emotions at bay. That little bit of silk would ruin all of it.

“Bucky said it would prove he sent me.”

“Sent you for what?” Her eyes hadn’t moved from his hand.

“See if you would be with him while he goes under.” Her gaze snapped up to meet his eyes.

“What does that mean?” Steve took a deep breath.

“Hydra’s control over him is hardwired into his brain. He asked to be put back on ice until we can figure out how to get it out.” She stood shakily to her feet and took a couple seconds to herself, to try and work through the words he was saying. Bucky had worked so hard to remember the bits and pieces of his life. She could only imagine the division within him when he had been reverted back to the Winter Soldier.

“Where is he?”

“Wakanda.”

“And he asked for me?” It had been long enough since their last conversation. If she had known all he had been going through…

“Only if you want to see him. I didn’t come here to force you.” Bucky wanted her to be the last thing he saw. And if it didn’t work, he wanted to know he had done at least one thing right in his life to have been loved by her if only for a fleeting moment. He wanted her to know he loved her too. That he always would. That, if it led to her, he wouldn’t do anything different.

“Let me grab my bag.” Steve watched her walk towards the bed and grab a backpack from underneath the frame. He smirked.

----

She asked if she could have some time once they arrived in Wakanda before she went to see him. Steve obliged, saying he would be back in a little bit to bring her to the lab. Lucia showered and tried on all the clothes in her bag before settling on a dress that was in the closet of the room she had been given. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself in the mirror. The girl looking back at her was blushing, glowing and every other cliche word that describes a young girl hopelessly falling in love. Maybe there was no Lucia without Bucky. Maybe he was the spark that kept the smile on her face. Maybe she should have never walked out on him that day. Was it too late? Did him going back on ice mean he would never be just Bucky again? Lucia heard a knock on the door and knew it was time. She didn’t know if this was a see you again later or a goodbye. And she didn’t know which one she wanted it to be either.

----

He looked good from afar at least. He was smiling as he exchanged words with Steve, her eyes immediately moving to the lack of metal arm on his left side. She wondered if he even missed it. He turned and saw her through the glass panels. In that moment she knew. They both knew. Leaving had been the right thing to do because he wouldn’t have been able to protect her through everything that had followed. He was no longer angry at her for leaving and she was no longer hurt that he didn’t say goodbye. When you love someone, you learn to forgive them.

“Steve said you had made it.” Bucky swallowed as she stood just outside of his reach.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. See you with my own eyes after everything I saw on TV.” Even though she had never stopped thinking about him and her feelings had never gone away, she felt out of place standing in front of him. Like they were strangers again.

“I wanted to let you know I was okay. I didn’t know if I could or if you even wanted me to.” She nodded and looked down at her feet. “I am okay,” he assured her.

“Good. I’d kill you if you weren’t.” They both smiled together, the joke easing some of the tension from their shoulders. “How long do you think it’ll take?” She began to drift a bit closer as she remembered the actual reason for her being here. Bucky was going under. He’d be gone again. Truly not there with her.

“I hope not long but I’m willing to do anything to make sure no one can control me like that ever again.” Her hand had found its way into his lap, his fingers twisting with hers. It was pure elation to touch her again. To be with her and feel her love for him washing over him in waves. It reminded him he wasn’t actually alone here at all. That if even when she wasn’t with him physically, her love always would be.

“I’ll stay here as long as it takes,” she whispered as she finally found the courage to look him in the eyes.

“Lucia, I would never ask you to do that.” Put her whole life on hold for him again. Clip her wings to be by his side while he recovered from years of trauma.

“I know. And you didn’t. I’ve lived life without you, Bucky, and it wasn’t really living. I want to be here when you wake up. By your side every day as you reclaim your life.” He leaned forward and pecked her lips gently. “I want to learn all the new parts of you. Fall in love with all of them the way I have the rest of you.” Because she had always believed that she loved all of Bucky. The damaged, torched by Hydra pieces as well as everything else. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to where he sat.

“I love you, Lucia. I want you to be the last thing I see every night and the first thing I see every morning for the rest of my life,” he breathed into her skin. Bucky hoped this process didn’t last so long that he didn’t get the chance to get his new life. He trusted the Wakandans and Shuri to be able to give him the opportunity.

“I want that more than anything,” she smiled as Steve walked up next to them. Their time was up. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.” After Steve said his goodbyes, they both watched Bucky close his eyes and drift into a long sleep from the hallway.

“I can bring you back to where you were until it’s time,” he offered.

“No. I’m not leaving.” Not again. Not ever again. “Where will you go?” Last time she had checked, Captain America was technically a fugitive.

“Some friends of mine are in prison. Think I might go get them.” She nodded like it made sense.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Captain Rogers.” She offered her hand. He shook it firmly.

“Take care of him. When it’s safe enough…”

“I know.” Steve left but she stayed where she was. A sentry by Bucky’s side. It was his turn to be protected. Have someone watch over him. Not have to look over his shoulder at every turn. And she’d be here to make sure of it.

----

The days passed well enough. She did a lot of reading and writing and exploring. The Wakandans had been more than welcoming. Shuri had taught her new dance moves and slang. Okoye had helped her get handy with a spear. T’Challa had made it a point to invite her to all the meals the royal family shared. She was happy and knew she could live the rest of her life like this if she had to.

But on the nights the darkness was particularly daunting and her room was particularly silent, she found herself walking past the lab where Bucky was. Frozen in time. It brought her some comfort to think he was at peace. That he was actually able to sleep. That soon, the demons would be forced to leave him alone.

“I love you, Bucky,” she whispered as she pressed her hand against the glass. Even in the darkness, she always wanted him to know that she was there by his side.

----

Lucia was chasing a group of children around in the grass when the time finally came. She knew as soon as T’Challa appeared at the top of the hill, her heart racing. Even though she had looked forward to this moment for so long, she wasn’t sure what to do. Would it have truly worked? Would Bucky still be Bucky? Would he have forgotten more than just the words in his head but all of his good memories as well?

“Mr. Barnes is being awoken today.” He looked at her carefully and spoke softly. He knew she had just gotten used to being without him. He knew that none of them could plan for the unknown of what happened next. “Would you still like to be there?”

“Yes,” Lucia responded.

“Then let us go.”

----

She had imagined this moment a thousand different ways in her head. Some were out of a romance novel. Her kisses awakens him and they reunite against the backdrop of the sunset before vowing to live a simple life in the countryside for the rest of time. Other scenarios were ones of nightmares. The tests don’t work. He wakes up as the Winter Soldier and terrorizes those who had tried to help him. Or he wakes up and his memory has been erased. He looks at her with confusion and nothingness. She is doomed to love a man that would never love her back. She hoped, as the temperature rose and Bucky was slowly brought back to life, that it would land somewhere in the middle. That no matter the obstacles that surely lay ahead they would face them together. There was no life without him. There was no one else. He is hers and she is his. And that is how it is meant to be.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #captain america #winter soldier #avengers #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

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Religious Trauma Syndrome: How Some Organized Religion Leads to Mental Health Problems

By Valerie Tarico

Marlene Winell interviewed March 25, 2013

At age sixteen I began what would be a four year struggle with bulimia. When the symptoms started, I turned in desperation to adults who knew more than I did about how to stop shameful behavior—my Bible study leader and a visiting youth minister. “If you ask anything in faith, believing,” they said. “It will be done.” I knew they were quoting [3] the Word of God. We prayed together, and I went home confident that God had heard my prayers. But my horrible compulsions didn’t go away. By the fall of my sophomore year in college, I was desperate and depressed enough that I made a suicide attempt. The problem wasn’t just the bulimia. I was convinced by then that I was a complete spiritual failure. My college counseling department had offered to get me real help (which they later did). But to my mind, at that point, such help couldn’t fix the core problem: I was a failure in the eyes of God. It would be years before I understood that my inability to heal bulimia through the mechanisms offered by biblical Christianity was not a function of my own spiritual deficiency but deficiencies in Evangelical religion itself.

Dr. Marlene Winell is a human development consultant in the San Francisco Area. She is also the daughter of Pentecostal missionaries. This combination has given her work an unusual focus. For the past twenty years she has counseled men and women in recovery from various forms of fundamentalist religion including the Assemblies of God denomination in which she was raised. Winell is the author of Leaving the Fold – A Guide for Former Fundamentalists and Others Leaving their Religion [4], written during her years of private practice in psychology. Over the years, Winell has provided assistance to clients whose religious experiences were even more damaging than mine. Some of them are people whose psychological symptoms weren’t just exacerbated by their religion, but actually caused by it.

Two years ago, Winell made waves by formally labeling what she calls “Religious Trauma Syndrome” (RTS) and beginning to write and speak on the subject for professional audiences. When the British Association of Behavioral and Cognitive Psychologists published a series of articles on the topic, members of a Christian counseling association protested what they called excessive attention to a “relatively niche topic.” One commenter said, “A religion, faith or book cannot be abuse but the people interpreting can make anything abusive.”

Is toxic religion simply misinterpretation? What is religious trauma? Why does Winell believe religious trauma merits its own diagnostic label?

Let’s start this interview with the basics. What exactly is religious trauma syndrome?

Winell: Religious trauma syndrome (RTS) is a set of symptoms and characteristics that tend to go together and which are related to harmful experiences with religion. They are the result of two things: immersion in a controlling religion and the secondary impact of leaving a religious group. The RTS label provides a name and description that affected people often recognize immediately. Many other people are surprised by the idea of RTS, because in our culture it is generally assumed that religion is benign or good for you. Just like telling kids about Santa Claus and letting them work out their beliefs later, people see no harm in teaching religion to children.

But in reality, religious teachings and practices sometimes cause serious mental health damage. The public is somewhat familiar with sexual and physical abuse in a religious context. As Journalist Janet Heimlich has documented in, Breaking Their Will, Bible-based religious groups that emphasize patriarchal authority in family structure and use harsh parenting methods can be destructive.

But the problem isn’t just physical and sexual abuse. Emotional and mental treatment in authoritarian religious groups also can be damaging because of 1) toxic teachings like eternal damnation or original sin 2) religious practices or mindset, such as punishment, black and white thinking, or sexual guilt, and 3) neglect that prevents a person from having the information or opportunities to develop normally.

Can you give me an example of RTS from your consulting practice?

Winell: I can give you many. One of the symptom clusters is around fear and anxiety. People indoctrinated into fundamentalist Christianity as small children sometimes have memories of being terrified by images of hell and apocalypse before their brains could begin to make sense of such ideas. Some survivors, who I prefer to call “reclaimers,” [8] have flashbacks, panic attacks, or nightmares in adulthood even when they intellectually no longer believe the theology. One client of mine, who during the day functioned well as a professional, struggled with intense fear many nights. She said,

“I was afraid I was going to hell. I was afraid I was doing something really wrong. I was completely out of control. I sometimes would wake up in the night and start screaming, thrashing my arms, trying to rid myself of what I was feeling. I’d walk around the house trying to think and calm myself down, in the middle of the night, trying to do some self-talk, but I felt like it was just something that – the fear and anxiety was taking over my life.” Or consider this comment, which refers to a film [9] used by evangelicals to warn about the horrors of the “end times” for nonbelievers.

“I was taken to see the film “A Thief In The Night”. WOW. I am in shock to learn that many other people suffered the same traumas I lived with because of this film. A few days or weeks after the film viewing, I came into the house and mom wasn’t there. I stood there screaming in terror. When I stopped screaming, I began making my plan: Who my Christian neighbors were, who’s house to break into to get money and food. I was 12 years old and was preparing for Armageddon alone.”

In addition to anxiety, RTS can include depression, cognitive difficulties, and problems with social functioning. In fundamentalist Christianity, the individual is considered depraved and in need of salvation. A core message is “You are bad and wrong and deserve to die.” (The wages of sin is death [10].) This gets taught to millions of children through organizations like Child Evangelism Fellowship [11] and there is a group organized [12] to oppose their incursion into public schools. I’ve had clients who remember being distraught when given a vivid bloody image of Jesus paying the ultimate price for their sins. Decades later they sit telling me that they can’t manage to find any self-worth.

“After twenty-seven years of trying to live a perfect life, I failed. . . I was ashamed of myself all day long. My mind battling with itself with no relief. . . I always believed everything that I was taught but I thought that I was not approved by God. I thought that basically I, too, would die at Armageddon.

“I’ve spent literally years injuring myself, cutting and burning my arms, taking overdoses and starving myself, to punish myself so that God doesn’t have to punish me. It’s taken me years to feel deserving of anything good.”

Born-again Christianity and devout Catholicism [13] tell people they are weak and dependent, calling on phrases like “lean not unto your own understanding [14]” or “trust and obey [11].” People who internalize these messages can suffer from learned helplessness. I’ll give you an example from a client who had little decision-making ability after living his entire life devoted to following the “will of God.” The words here don’t convey the depth of his despair.

“I have an awful time making decisions in general. Like I can’t, you know, wake up in the morning, “What am I going to do today?” Like I don’t even know where to start. You know all the things I thought I might be doing are gone and I’m not sure I should even try to have a career; essentially I babysit my four-year-old all day.”

Authoritarian religious groups are subcultures where conformity is required in order to belong. Thus if you dare to leave the religion, you risk losing your entire support system as well.

“I lost all my friends. I lost my close ties to family. Now I’m losing my country. I’ve lost so much because of this malignant religion and I am angry and sad to my very core. . . I have tried hard to make new friends, but I have failed miserably. . . I am very lonely.”

Leaving a religion, after total immersion, can cause a complete upheaval of a person’s construction of reality, including the self, other people, life, and the future. People unfamiliar with this situation, including therapists, have trouble appreciating the sheer terror it can create.

“My form of religion was very strongly entrenched and anchored deeply in my heart. It is hard to describe how fully my religion informed, infused, and influenced my entire worldview. My first steps out of fundamentalism were profoundly frightening and I had frequent thoughts of suicide. Now I’m way past that but I still haven’t quite found “my place in the universe.”

Even for a person who was not so entrenched, leaving one’s religion can be a stressful and significant transition.

Many people seem to walk away from their religion easily, without really looking back. What is different about the clientele you work with?

Winell: Religious groups that are highly controlling, teach fear about the world, and keep members sheltered and ill-equipped to function in society are harder to leave easily. The difficulty seems to be greater if the person was born and raised in the religion rather than joining as an adult convert. This is because they have no frame of reference – no other “self” or way of “being in the world.” A common personality type is a person who is deeply emotional and thoughtful and who tends to throw themselves wholeheartedly into their endeavors. “True believers” who then lose their faith feel more anger and depression and grief than those who simply went to church on Sunday.

Aren’t these just people who would be depressed, anxious, or obsessive anyways?

Winell: Not at all. If my observation is correct, these are people who are intense and involved and caring. They hang on to the religion longer than those who simply “walk away” because they try to make it work even when they have doubts. Sometimes this is out of fear, but often it is out of devotion. These are people for whom ethics, integrity and compassion matter a great deal. I find that when they get better and rebuild their lives, they are wonderfully creative and energetic about new things.

In your mind, how is RTS different from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?

Winell: RTS is a specific set of symptoms and characteristics that are connected with harmful religious experience, not just any trauma. This is crucial to understanding the condition and any kind of self-help or treatment. (More details about this can be found on my Journey Free [15] website and discussed in my talk [16] at the Texas Freethought Convention.)

Another difference is the social context, which is extremely different from other traumas or forms of abuse. When someone is recovering from domestic abuse, for example, other people understand and support the need to leave and recover. They don’t question it as a matter of interpretation, and they don’t send the person back for more. But this is exactly what happens to many former believers who seek counseling. If a provider doesn’t understand the source of the symptoms, he or she may send a client for pastoral counseling, or to AA, or even to another church. One reclaimer expressed her frustration this way:

“Include physically-abusive parents who quote “Spare the rod and spoil the child” as literally as you can imagine and you have one fucked-up soul: an unloved, rejected, traumatized toddler in the body of an adult. I’m simply a broken spirit in an empty shell. But wait...That’s not enough!? There’s also the expectation by everyone in society that we victims should celebrate this with our perpetrators every Christmas and Easter!!”

Just like disorders such as autism or bulimia, giving RTS a real name has important advantages. People who are suffering find that having a label for their experience helps them feel less alone and guilty. Some have written to me to express their relief:

“There’s actually a name for it! I was brainwashed from birth and wasted 25 years of my life serving Him! I’ve since been out of my religion for several years now, but I cannot shake the haunting fear of hell and feel absolutely doomed. I’m now socially inept, unemployable, and the only way I can have sex is to pay for it.”

Labeling RTS encourages professionals to study it more carefully, develop treatments, and offer training. Hopefully, we can even work on prevention.

What do you see as the difference between religion that causes trauma and religion that doesn’t?

Winell: Religion causes trauma when it is highly controlling and prevents people from thinking for themselves and trusting their own feelings. Groups that demand obedience and conformity produce fear, not love and growth. With constant judgment of self and others, people become alienated from themselves, each other, and the world. Religion in its worst forms causes separation.

Conversely, groups that connect people and promote self-knowledge and personal growth can be said to be healthy. The book, Healthy Religion [17], describes these traits. Such groups put high value on respecting differences, and members feel empowered as individuals. They provide social support, a place for events and rites of passage, exchange of ideas, inspiration, opportunities for service, and connection to social causes. They encourage spiritual practices that promote health like meditation or principles for living like the golden rule. More and more, non-theists are asking [18] how they can create similar spiritual communities without the supernaturalism. An atheist congregation [19] in London launched this year and has received over 200 inquiries from people wanting to replicate their model.

Some people say that terms like “recovery from religion” and “religious trauma syndrome” are just atheist attempts to pathologize religious belief.

Winell: Mental health professionals have enough to do without going out looking for new pathology. I never set out looking for a “niche topic,” and certainly not religious trauma syndrome. I originally wrote a paper for a conference of the American Psychological Association and thought that would be the end of it. Since then, I have tried to move on to other things several times, but this work has simply grown.

In my opinion, we are simply, as a culture, becoming aware of religious trauma. More and more people are leaving religion, as seen by polls [20] showing that the “religiously unaffiliated” have increased in the last five years from just over 15% to just under 20% of all U.S. adults. It’s no wonder the internet is exploding with websites for former believers from all religions, providing forums [21] for people to support each other. The huge population of people “leaving the fold” includes a subset at risk for RTS, and more people are talking about it and seeking help. For example, there are thousands of former Mormons [22], and I was asked to speak about RTS at an Exmormon Foundation conference. I facilitate an international support group online called Release and Reclaim [23] which has monthly conference calls. An organization called Recovery from Religion, [24] helps people start self-help meet-up groups

Saying that someone is trying to pathologize authoritarian religion is like saying someone pathologized eating disorders by naming them. Before that, they were healthy? No, before that we weren’t noticing. People were suffering, thought they were alone, and blamed themselves. Professionals had no awareness or training. This is the situation of RTS today. Authoritarian religion is already pathological, and leaving a high-control group can be traumatic. People are already suffering. They need to be recognized and helped. _______________________________

Statistics update:

Numbers of American ‘nones’ continues to rise

October 18, 2019

By David Crary – Associated Press

The portion of Americans with no religious affiliation is rising significantly, in tandem with a sharp drop in the percentage that identifies as Christians, according to new data from the Pew Research Center. …

Pew says all categories of the religiously unaffiliated population – often referred to as the “nones” grew in magnitude. Self-described atheists now account for 4% of U.S. adults, up from 2% in 2009; agnostics account for 5%, up from 3% a decade ago; and 17% of Americans now describe their religion as “nothing in particular,” up from 12% in 2009.

https://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2019/1018/Numbers-of-American-nones-continues-to-rise

_______________________________

Marlene Winell interviewed by Valerie Tarico on recovering from religious trauma Uploaded on January 31, 2011

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIfABmbqSMA

24:12

On Moral Politics, a TV program with host Dr. Valerie Tarico, Marlene Winell describes the trauma that can result from harmful experiences with religious indoctrination. Dr. Winell explains that mental health issues are widespread and need to be understood just as we understand PTSD. There are steps to recovery, treatment modalities, and resources available as well. She now refers to this as RTS or Religious Trauma Syndrome. _______________________________

Links:   [3] https://www.biblestudyonjesuschrist.com/pog/ask1.htm  [4] https://marlenewinell.net/leaving-fold-former  [8] https://journeyfree.org/article/reclaimers/  [9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Thief_in_the_Night_%28film%29  [10] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+6%3A23&version=KJV  [11] https://valerietarico.com/2011/02/04/our-public-schools-their-mission-field/  [12] http://www.intrinsicdignity.com/  [13] https://www.maryjohnson.co/an-unquenchable-thirst/  [14] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+3%3A5-6&version=KJV [15] https://journeyfree.org/category/uncategorized/ [16] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrE4pMBlis  [17] https://www.amazon.com/Healthy-Religion-Psychological-Guide-Mature/dp/1425924166 [18] https://www.humanistchaplaincy.org/ [19] https://www.christianpost.com/news/london-atheist-church-model-looking-to-expand-worldwide-91516 [20] https://www.pewforum.org/2012/10/09/nones-on-the-rise/  [21] https://new.exchristian.net/  [22] https://www.exmormon.org/  [23] https://journeyfree.org/group-forum/ [24] https://www.recoveringfromreligion.org/

_____________________________________

Get God’s Self-Appointed Messengers Out of Your Head

Valerie Tarico Which buzz phrases from your past are stuck in your brain? “God’s messengers” were all real complicated people with biases, blind spots, favorite foods and morning breath. They were not gods and they are not you. So how can you get them out of your head or at least reduce them to muffled background noise?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ElfyYA420F0

#religious trauma syndrome #Marlene Winell #Valerie Tarico

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majide · 4 years

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Bunk Buddies - Shinarthur

I roleplay as Shinra/Arthur, dm if you have a Shinra/Arthur muse. This prompt is just a suggestion.

Brief: Shinra can’t sleep and decides to pester his roommate instead. In a turn of events, two bodies end up cramped onto one bunk. (See tags for triggers and end of post for notes)

AU/Canon: Canon | Words: 1,245

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It was late in the evening, midnight long forgotten on the clock, but Shinra found himself surprisingly wide awake.

He lay on his back, hands linked across his stomach, crimson eyes losing focus and then refocusing on the ceiling.

His index finger was tapping against the back of his left palm. He was exceedingly bored, unsure why he had been plagued with this early morning energy.

There was nothing for Shinra to do. He could practically quote the magazine beneath his pillow from how many times he’d read it and his phone was charging on his desk. He wouldn’t be able to get it without disturbing Arthur.

Arthur.

Shinra silently rolled onto his waist and scooted to the side of his bunk, leaning over the edge as he stared down at the unresponsive blond.

His body contradicted his mind because where Shinra’s thoughts screamed ‘ugly’, his heartbeat was ameliorating within his chest.

Shinra pursed his lips. He knew it was immature to wake Arthur up, especially when they had training in a few hours, but he was so extraordinarily bored.

His lips began to stretch into his maniacal smile and he reached for his pillow. In one swift motion, he tossed the object at the other’s head.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur immediately awoke with a fright. He grabbed the handle of Excalibur and sat up at a remarkably fast speed. Still being dazed and half-asleep, this meant Arthur was quick to bang his forehead against the bunk above him.

Shinra crinkled his eyes and began to laugh, covering his mouth with one of his hands to try and stifle the noises. His laughing only grew louder as he watched Arthur head-butt the base of his own bed.

It took Arthur a moment to configure his thoughts. When he realised they weren’t under attack, he dropped his trusty sword and resorted to clutching his forehead.

“What the hell, devil?” He complained in a tired groan, rubbing the irritated pink patch of skin.

Shinra snorted, borderline wheezing, leaning further over the side of the bed to mock Arthur’s plight. “It’s not like you have any braincells left to kill!” He teased.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to stare up at the other male, noticing the way his brown hair dangled and swung with the way his body was leaning vertically downward.

It was... adorable... in some stupidly juvenile sense.

“I’d like to try and keep the ones I do have.” He retorted with a yawn, stealing a glance at the clock. It was three in the morning. Why was Shinra awake? Could he not sleep? And more importantly, why did Arthur care?

That toothy smile was a blinding light in the darkness of their bedroom. “That’ll be easy! Seen as you’re trying to protect nothing- Woah!” His tease was cut short when the one remaining hand gripping the bunk’s support railing slipped and Shinra went toppling over the side.

Truth be told, this was not the first time Shinra had fallen from the top bunk, so despite the sudden tension across his shoulders, Arthur didn’t shift from the bed to make sure the brunette was okay.

“You deserved that.” He muttered, ignoring the boy’s mewls of pain from the floor and instead settling back against his mattress, slotting Excalibur snug beside him.

“Arthur-”

“No.”

“Arthuuuur-” The voice whined from somewhere on the ground.

“What the hell do you want, devil?” The blond huffed, draping an arm across his eyes. Knights weren’t supposed to be awake at this hour in the morning, he should have this male executed for disturbing him.

“I think I broke my back.”

“You’re not a princess. I’m not going to save you.” Arthur retorted, somewhat relieved by hearing the other’s snicker. If Shinra was capable of laughing, he certainly hadn’t broken his back. Again, that question resurfaced; why did Arthur care?

He listened to the faint sound of shuffling, before feeling the side of his mattress dip. This prompted Arthur to remove the arm draped across his eyes.

“So, if I was dying, you wouldn’t help me?” Shinra questioned, crawling further onto Arthur’s bunk. There was no discontent behind those words, Arthur could tell the raven was only playing with him. That realisation motivated his answer.

“Definitely not.” He denied, but seemingly made no attempt to have Shinra leave his bed.

Shinra sat on his hands and knees, that familiar smile reclaiming his lips once again. “I would help you.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Arthur’s mouth. “A knight doesn’t need the help of a devil. I have Excalibur and that’s all I require-”

“Why do you sleep with it? That’s so weird.” Shinra interrupted him, reaching forward and untucking the sword, pulling it away from its possessor.

Arthur blamed the lack of sleep for his slow reaction time. “Hey!” He sat up, only to have Shinra’s hand centring on his chest, keeping him pushed away and the blade held from reach. “Give it back!”

“Ah ah ah,” Shinra tutted, outstretching his arm further when Arthur feebly attempted to reach for it. “I’m just looking-”

“It’s only supposed to be touched by noble hands!” Arthur simultaneously argued and insulted.

Shinra furrowed his brows. “I have the hands of a hero! A hero is better than any nobleman!” He disputed.

Despite the situation, there was a sweet, unspoken trust between the pair. Arthur didn’t enjoy people touching his sword and yet, here he was, not putting up much of a fight to retrieve it from Shinra.

That was something Shinra could respect. He let the blade slip from between his fingertips and fall onto the floor. “Why don’t you sleep with a human and not a piece of metal? You damn weirdo!”

Arthur’s eyes diverted from the blade laying against the floor to Shinra’s face. “Excalibur is not just a ‘piece of metal’!” He argued, before sliding his arm across the back of Shinra’s neck and tugging him forward. His leg found purchase around the other’s waist, pulling him into a chokehold.

Shinra beamed, placing both his hands on Arthur’s chest and reciprocating the wrestle with the boy.

“Die!”

“No, you die!”

Their breathing grew more laboured the longer they struggled, until they mutually grew too tired to continue.

Shinra was sprawled over the top of Arthur, his face buried into the pillow beside the blond’s messy hair.

Arthur panted softly, before jabbing two of his fingers against Shinra’s side. “Get off me.” He mumbled, attempting to move but being entirely squished.

Shinra simply hummed in response. “No, I’m comfy,” He denied, but he continued to speak before Arthur could argue in retaliation. “Besides, I’m much better than a piece of metal.”

Arthur let his hand drop down to his side. Wide blue eyes were staring at the bunk above, an unsolicited stagger growing ever prevalent in his heartbeat.

“...Not a piece of metal.” He whispered softly in response after an extended period of silence.

Despite having his face buried into the pillow, Shinra’s mouth still managed to curl upward in a smile. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He retorted, voice muffled.

But, in the grand scheme of things, as exhaustion started to override Shinra’s consciousness, he began to realise that laying like this, so close to the blond, was what helped himself sleep at night.

And, in the morning, when the pair awoke warm and entangled, mutual screaming filled the base, as did the pounding of both their hearts.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

[Okay, I had to write about these two, I just really love their dynamic and it definitely paves the way for an enemies-friends-lovers relationship. I can imagine the pair of them having their first kiss really late at night while sharing one of their bunks (because you best believe it becomes a common occurrence). Getting caught by their acquaintances and having to feign disgust would also be amusing.]

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greekgeek21 · 3 years

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Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - there is a fight scene included

I am not dead, just extremely busy. My summer lacrosse season just ended, so hopefully I get some inspiration to write some new chapters. In the meantime, I hope this will tide you over for some time.

Keep in mind, this was written weeks ago, so I am not in the mood to answer any weirdly specific questions about my artistic choices. In other words, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it! I know, it's a truly monumental realization.

For my kind & loyal readers, don't forget to comment, like, and follow!

- your author

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Avengers or PJO!

Ω ♆ Ω

By the grace of the gods, the group managed to pass the sirens without an issue. It seemed like the mortals had finally accepted that it was in their best interest to listen to the Seven. So, as soon as Percy warned everyone to fill their ears with wax, they filled their ears with wax. Of course there were a few complaints, but that was expected. Nobody was perfect (no matter what Narcissus insists).

From there on out, the nerves were building. Percy had informed the team that their next stop would be Polyphemus' island, and everybody, mortal and demigod alike, knew what that place was. It was where the most infamous cyclops lived, but most importantly, it was where Annabeth was being held, if Percy's father was to be trusted.

Since it would still be another two hours or so, according to the sea expert, until they reached the island, the group decided to try resting. Some tried to nap, while others sharpened their weapons or hung out on the deck. It was futile, but they were trying to prepare themselves for a situation that they had never before encountered, not even Percy.

It was safe to say that everyone was scared shitless.

Ω ♆ Ω

Leo had decided to go downstairs and tinker with some stuff from his belt as a distraction from their impending doom. It was working too! He was in his own little world that only machines could enter. That is, until Tony Stark walked up to him.

"Whatcha doing, kid?" he asked, peering over Leo's shoulder to catch a glimpse at the boy's creation.

"I'm making a mini automaton to help us find Annabeth when we get to the island," was the answer.

Taking a closer look, Tony started to see it. It was a very small machine, but if you looked closely, it was clear that it was made of metal. The automaton was about the size of a quarter, and looked like a celestial bronze spider. Leo was currently adding the last two legs to it when Tony walked up.

When Leo looked up, he held up his creation with a proud smile. "This baby can be our spy. It's eyes are tiny cameras, and it's made almost completely of celestial bronze. We can send this in, and then know where Annabeth is before we storm the place."

Tony nodded, "Yeah... Pretty good idea, kid."

And ok, so Leo was freaking out a little bit on the inside because one of his idols had just complimented his work. But on the outside, he just smiled a little wider.

"You haven't even seen the best part. You've gotta see it after I turn it on. I added stealth-mode so nobody should even be able to know it's there," Leo said, grabbing the spider and flipping it over to press a button.

As soon as he had, the spider flipped itself over in his hand and started crawling up his arm. Tony was a little creeped out, but it was blocked by the fascination for this new kind of science the demigods had. The spider should have to be controlled by a human, but it was moving like it was almost...thinking on its own. There was no way it had an AI, but that was the only solution his mortal brain could come up with.

"Is it an AI?" he asked.

"Nope. It's a greek automaton. They don't need AIs. I programmed it to listen to a few simple commands when needed, but if we don't order it around, it'll just stick around me waiting for orders. Pretty cool, right?"

"Awesome," Tony whispered, in awe of how smart this seventeen year old kid was.

"Thanks. I think I finished it just in time because I heard Percy calling us back upstairs," Leo said. Before he had even finished he was walking towards the deck, not a care in the world for the metal spider crawling around on him.

"Oh, I'm definitely becoming friends with this kid," Tony muttered to himself before following Leo.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Did you get it done, Leo?" Percy asked as soon as he had seen him.

"Yep. Here it is." Leo held up the automaton-spider.

Percy smirked. "Oh, Annabeth's gonna love that."

Leo shrugged, acting clueless. "I have no idea what you're talking about. The spider was just the first thing I could come up with."

"Sure it was," Piper snorted.

Leo fake-gasped. "Beauty Queen! How could you ever think I would lie?! I would never!"

Clint whispered to Natasha, "The kids clearly have a strong bond that only comes from fighting for their lives with each other."

Frank turned to them, surprising the spies that he had heard them, "No shit, Sherlock."

Before anything else could be said, Percy reclaimed the entire group's attention. "If you look to the right, you can see Polyphemus' island. We're going to dock on the south side of the island because that is the only way to get on without climbing a cliff and facing carnivorous sheep. Hazel should be able to disguise the ship until we invade the base, so don't worry about being seen. Leo will send in his spider to check things out and then we'll follow after we know where Annabeth is. Everybody got that?"

At the noises of affirmation, Percy nodded. "Good. Suit up if you're not already."

Of course, Tony had to break the calm solemnity by saying, "Cap, I thought that was your line?"

Everybody collectively rolled their eyes.

Ω ♆ Ω

After they docked, Leo released his spider with specific orders to find Annabeth Chase while staying hidden. That was working until Polyphemus' stupid super-senses could smell the celestial bronze. Leo hadn't known that a blind cyclops would be able to smell metal, but you learn something new everyday, right?

The spider lasted all of five minutes in the cave before Polyphemus smelled it and crushed it under his giant smelly foot. Percy had thought that the cyclops would take longer to reform, but when had he ever been that lucky? Something that completely baffled him was how the mortals got him to not eat them. The dude had been pretty desperate for food the last time Percy had run into him, so how had the weird boss guy gotten him to hold off?

The only thing he could think of for them to feed him would be...nope! He's not going there right now.

The last thing the spider had transmitted to the group was a picture of a mortal holding a gun to Annabeth's head while she was gagged and chained. It made his blood boil.

"I'm going to kill them," He growled, starting to get off the boat and storm the place.

Jason stepped in front of him before he could, "Easy, Perce. You don't know what you're walking into. They want you to go in half-cocked, so we can't give them that. You know Annabeth can handle herself, so just take a breath and we'll figure out a plan."

Percy took a shaky breath, but it did nothing to cool his anger.

"Jace, if you don't step out of my way in the next two seconds, I will be forced to move you, and trust me, you don't want me to do that."

The son of Jupiter stood his ground, "I'm not moving. I know you Percy. Hurting me would go against your fatal flaw. I'm your best friend; your family. I know you would never intentionally hurt me."

Jason glanced over at the rest of the group, who hadn't dared to move if it upset Percy even more. The guy was a ticking time bomb, and they needed to defuse it before it went off and destroyed any chance of getting Annabeth back safely.

Percy almost looked in pain as he spoke his next words, "Jason, I love you. You're my cousin, but Annabeth is my everything. I will hurt you to get to her."

Jason sighed, expecting that answer. "Then at least let us come with you on your suicide mission. I'm not letting you die without me."

"Fine, but hurry up. I'm leaving now," and Percy shoved past Jason and started the trek up to Polyphemus' cave.

Jason turned to the others, who were all staring after Percy with shocked expressions. "Well you heard him! Move your asses!"

That seemed to startle them awake. Everyone but Bruce started moving.

Ω ♆ Ω

By the time the team had been able to catch up to Percy's fast pace, he had already reached the nearest entrance to the cave. It was a dark, narrow path that had walls of rock on either side reaching up for hundreds of feet.

"This is the part in the horror movies where I start screaming at the tv to not go in there and they still go in there," Piper whispered.

They were all just staring at the darkness, and it was getting awkward. For someone who was so hasty to get to Annabeth, Percy was sure taking a long time to get there.

"Are we gonna go in or..." Tony said.

Percy sighed. "Yeah. We're going in. Just don't separate from the group."

He led the way into the cave with Steve right behind him. Percy appreciated having someone else who could take some of the responsibility off his shoulders. Almost his entire time in the godly world, he had been expected to be the leader because of his father, and he had stepped up, but that doesn't mean it didn't weigh on him. Annabeth was the only one who had been able to help him with the stress, and without her, he was losing it. He had already been barely hanging onto his control over his powers, but now without her, what he was doing could barely be called control. It was more like holding back a rampaging bull with a string.

Ten minutes later, they found themselves hiding behind the wall that led to the room where the gang was waiting. Just as the spider had shown them, Annabeth was kneeling under the gang leader's feet while he held a gun to her head.

She looked murderous, so at least something was still normal in the world.

Steve poked his head around and gave a quick scan of the room before turning back to them, "Ok so we've got at least ten humans, with five monsters. One of the monsters is as tall as a building so I think he's the largest threat. Tony, Clint, Nat, and I will deal with the humans if you guys handle the monsters. The main priority is getting Annabeth to safety. Percy, that's your job."

Saying that last bit was just to clarify for everyone else, though they looked like they didn't need to hear it. Percy had a determined look on his face, one that said he wasn't going to allow anyone else to have his assignment.

"You got it, boss," Tony remarked. "Do you just want to storm in there?"

Before he could get an answer, Percy charged into the room, leaving his friends entirely unshocked, but the Avengers were looking a little mad.

"Don't worry, plans aren't really his thing. Even if we do make them, they never go our way. It's better to go with the flow when fighting with Percy," Hazel reassured, and then turned to follow her godly cousin. The rest of the Seven followed, leaving the Avengers to just stare at each other in confusion.

"I like their style," Tony said before flying into the room.

Natasha sighed. "I'm really starting to regret meeting these kids."

Clint smirked at her before leaving, closely followed by Steve and the Black Widow herself. For all three of them, everything about this mission was against their nature, but there wasn't much they could do about it. They were in unknown territory with a group of newly-allied teens and no backup. It was a shitshow before they had even left.

Ω ♆ Ω

Frank was fighting a dracaena, and it was making it super annoying. The thing would not stop talking about grocery stores. It was quite distracting when trying to kill it.

"Seriously! Can you believe how nobody can see how bad those chains are?!" it exclaimed.

Frank sighed, ready for it to be over. Whenever he would try to stab it, it would just slither away right at the last second, all the while continuing to complain.

He decided to use his shapeshifting abilities to catch the thing off-guard. In reality, he could probably deal with it in seconds, but when he really used his inner son of Mars, it drained him. He needed to save his strength if he was going to fight Polyphemus.

Speaking of, so far, the cyclops had stayed out of the fighting. He was just sitting on his throne made of rock, picking at his teeth with what Frank really hoped wasn't a human bone.

Frank changed into a squirrel for a second, climbing up onto the back of the dracaena with the animal's speed and before the monster could react, he changed back into a human and stabbed it through the back with his spear.

"Huh. I guess you can shut up," he remarked as the monster turned into dust.

After, Frank turned to help Hazel take down an empousa. She had already defeated four before that, so it was a pretty easy fight. He had been keeping an eye on her throughout his fight. Sure, he trusted she could take care of herself, but it was also his job to watch her back.

"Thanks," Hazel told him with a quick peck on the cheek after they finished.

Believe it or not, that kiss on the cheek was a major improvement. It had been a real adjustment for Hazel to learn how couples expressed affection nowadays, and it had taken even longer to start showing it herself. It helped that Frank preferred words over touch, too.

"No problem."

Ω ♆ Ω

"Get some, térata!" Leo screamed, running up to the manticore and sending giant, continuous blasts of fire at it.

He had heard of Dr. Thorn from Nico, Percy, and Annabeth before, and had somehow retained the knowledge that it was extremely durable on the outside. That meant that he had to think smart in order to beat it.

So far, Leo was distracting it and holding it off with his fire while he thought of a plan. However, he could only hold it off for so long. He would eventually tire out.

Come on, Leo, THINK!

Then it hit him.

It was so simple! He had been told the story of how the Nemean lion was defeated at Camp. Now usually, he would totally ignore any schooling he was given, but the stuff they were taught at Camp was much more interesting than algebra. So yeah, he remembered some stuff.

So, he decided that his best shot at beating Dr. Thorn was landing a large enough hit inside of him. That meant he had to figure out a way to get him to open his mouth. That wasn't really the hard part, though. The hard part was figuring out how to not die when he had to get closer to the monster.

"Estoy jodido..." he muttered before taking a step forward, never once stopping his assault on the beast.

The Manticore didn't seem to be moving back from the intensity, but rather reveling in the fact that he hadn't gained one burn from the fight. He was just waiting out Leo.

That was not a fun revelation for the son of Hephaestus to have.

And that was when the thorns started attacking him. He should've been expecting it, really. The guy had a tail of poisonous thorns and he hadn't used it yet? Something should've registered in his mind. But that was past-Leo's mistake. Present-Leo had to deal with the super tall, scary, poisonous, and royally pissed-off greek monster in front of him.

Dr. Thorn let out a war cry and swung his tail around, releasing a line of spikes at Leo, who managed to just barely duck out of the way. He was not keen on becoming swiss cheese!

"Ok. It's time to end this." Leo sighed in annoyance, jumping back up and charging.

He swung his battle hammer up and lit it on fire, deciding that he might as well stick with the common theme of stupid ideas. He managed to keep dodging attacks all the way up until he was within ten feet of the manticore. Then, he threw his weapon at the monster, praying to Apollo for good aim. He had fixed the sun chariot plenty of times, so the god had to owe him at least one favor.

Once again, Leo's stupid demigod luck kicked in and the hammer somehow embedded itself in the monster's mouth, which had been opened in a prideful roar. Honestly, the son of Hephaestus didn't know HOW he did it, just that it worked.

With the distraction of having a flaming hammer in his mouth, Dr. Thorn didn't see Leo running up with his arms raised and prepared to fire. By the time he did, it was too late because long blasts of fire were flying straight towards his open mouth.

The monster was able to mutter a silent curse before he disintegrated into dust, once again sent to Tartarus.

"Take that, bitch."

Ω ♆ Ω

Piper was absolutely sure the Fates were laughing at her. They had to be. There was no way that she just happened to be stuck with the two empousa. It didn't help that Jason was struggling to not drool over the girls. She just had to keep chanting in her head that the monsters were using their charm powers on him, and he was not actually attracted to the disgusting things.

After the two monsters tried to both swipe at her at the same time, she growled and shouted, "Jason! Get your head in the game and come help me!"

He had been blinking and shaking his head for the past two minutes and it was getting quite frustrating to have these donkey-cyborg-vampires ganging up on her with no back-up. Once this was over, she was going to make Jason work to get back in her good graces.

With just a little bit of her charmspeak added into her order, Jason was finally able to break free from the empousai's spell. He quickly willed his gladius to be a javelin and launched it through one of the monsters, which made it explode into a shower of golden dust. A traitorous part of Piper's brain insisted on calling that move hot, but she was able to school her expression back into a scowl before her boyfriend could notice.

The other empousa let out a shriek and said, "You MONSTERS! That was my sister! I'll make you pay for that!"

They only had a second to appreciate the irony before she launched herself at them with even more fervor than before, fueled by the rage of losing her "sister."

Jason couldn't help but notice how she was wearing a cheerleading costume. It was very ripped and destroyed, but it was clearly a cheerleading uniform. And as he was deflecting her claws, the ADHD part of his brain realized that the logo on the uniform was for Goode High School, Percy's old school. He almost wanted to laugh when he remembered the story of Kelli, an empousa acting as a cheerleader during Percy's freshman orientation. Percy had always said the monster had a nasty habit of coming back quickly, but Jason had just thought it was an exaggeration. But no, he and Piper were really fighting Kelli, one of Percy's recurring monsters.

It would be hilarious later, truly. But for now, he had to actually kill the thing.

Kelli had backed off when she realized that attacking out of rage wasn't going to work against two experienced demigods, and that also gave Jason and Piper a chance to make a plan themselves.

"Got any ideas?" he asked Piper.

She grinned with a terrifying amount of murderous glee. "I thought you'd never ask."

And then she told him her plan, which was essentially just using him as bait while she got to do all the killing. The prideful Roman part of him wanted to insist on him killing it, but he managed to reign that in when he saw the look on Piper's face. She was not asking, she was telling. Who was he to say no, especially after he hadn't been able to fully resist the empousai's charm?

A scary thought told him he was turning into Percy. He brushed that off for later nightmares.

"Come get me, bloodsucker!" He shouted, raising his arms up in a taunting manner. If he was acting like Percy, might as well go all the way right?

With yet another shriek, Kelli stormed at Jason, completely disregarding the daughter of Aphrodite that was stepping back and preparing to literally stab the monster in the back with her dagger.

Sometimes Jason wonders how a creature could be so stupid. Their plan was so obvious!

It went off without a hitch, technically. Piper let the empousa get a little too close for comfort before she killed it, but he trusted her to get the job done and she came through. Kelli had been prepped and ready to bite into his neck right before she exploded into dust.

It was one Hades of a trust exercise, that's for sure.

"Please don't let it get that close next time, Pipes," he breathed out while he put away Juno's Gladius.

Piper gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Not a chance, Superman."

Ω ♆ Ω

Considering the circumstances, the Avengers weren't doing half-bad. They were actually fairing pretty well. They knew how to deal with humans, so their job wasn't that hard. The only difficulty was that there were four of them and ten of the bad guys. They were sorely outnumbered.

Currently, Steve was fighting two at once, with a third opponent already knocked out a few feet away. He was blocking one with his shield while punching the other in the face. He then switched roles, instead kicking the first attacker and driving his shield into the gut of the second. The one he gutted gasped and fell to the ground, and was knocked unconscious was a simple hit to the temple. While he was distracted with taking down his partner, the still-conscious bad guy recovered from the kick and was able to land a hit to the back of Steve's head. Clearly, the fighter had been prepared to have achieved some form of disorientation from the Captain, but all he got was a pissed-off Avenger.

"That tickled."

It took less than five seconds for Steve to take him down after that.

Natasha also started with three adversaries. Key word being 'started.' It had taken barely any time to take down the first two. And all she had to do for the third was a scissor kick and hold until he passed out. She had just finished doing that when a call from Clint got her attention.

"Nat!" he shouted.

She turned on instinct and threw a throwing knife at the person running up behind her straight into their chest. They stopped with shocked features before falling to the ground in a heap, dead weight pushing the knife even further in and no doubt killing them faster.

"Getting rusty, Clint?" she teased, throwing a look over at her friend.

"No," he defended. "I'm just making sure you're not getting rusty!"

The archer hadn't realised one of his two attackers had sneaked off to go after the "bigger threat." He would never let Nat know he thought she was the bigger threat, though. That would be fueling an ego he knew was somewhere deep down in her.

Tony had been given two people to fight as well, and he was doing pretty well. He had the obvious advantage of being in the air, so all the gang members he was fighting could do was try to shoot at him with their guns, and his armor was designed to withstand a nuclear bomb. Bullets weren't gonna do much damage.

"Guys, seriously, we should just talk this out. We both KNOW I'm going to be knocking you both out in five seconds, so why don't you surrender instead? It'll be so much easier for the both of us!" he said, raising his hands and readying his repulsors.

As expected, the bad guys didn't show any sign of slowing down their useless attack on him. With a roll of his eyes and an obnoxious sigh, Iron Man shot them both in the chest, knocking them out cold.

"That felt too easy. Did that feel too easy to you?" He asked the other Avengers as they gathered back together.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Tony," Natasha said, "That fight was too good to be true."

Now that the truth had been revealed to them, the Avengers could blame what happened next on the Fates.

Ω ♆ Ω

There it is! I hope you liked it

other chapters :)

#pjo #Percy Jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #avengers #marvel #mcu #heroes #superheroes #fanfic #ff #ao3 #wattpad #inkitt #webnovel

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words-writ-in-starlight · 4 years

Note

Untamed TAZ Balance AU? Don't have to write anything, just consider that (is Wen Ning Lucretia in this or is he too nice for that)

NHS IS LUCRETIA, NHS IS ABSOLUTELY LUCRETIA, I HAVE THOUGHTS, my girlfriend yelled at me for these thoughts. Hell this got long, I’ve literally been saving it in my drafts until Tumblr fixed the Read More issue.

WWX is Taako, JC is Magnus, WQ is Merle, JYL is in the umbrella (became a lich to keep her brother from doing it), WN is the Red Robe (became a lich because he thought it seemed reasonable), NHS is Lucretia, XXC is Davenport, LWJ and LXC are mutually Kravitz (LXC sets his bro up with the death criminal wizard), Wen Zhuliu is John Vore, LSZ is Angus but also a baby Reaper

ONE

So Wei Wuxian isn’t really a wizard, is the thing. Like, he does the wizard magic, and apparently he has strong Wizard Vibes because wherever he travels, people ask him if he can solve their magical bullshit problems, but he’s, like, barely a wizard. He’s an inventor, technically, except that a few years back some stuff went explosively awry while he worked with this traveling show and–yeah. So he’s working as a wizard because, hey, he can cast Magic Missile and he needs to eat and he’s an Evocation specialist, anyway, so it’s not like he’s out here making food from rocks. He’s hired on with a couple other random jackasses, a fighter who took a dislike to Wei Wuxian right off the bat and a cleric with a bad temper and an itchy Sacred Flame finger, and they’re doing a job for some dwarf, or whatever. The dwarf has a guy hired on as muscle, but he doesn’t look like much, all wide eyes and baby face. He calls himself Qionglin, no last name, and stares at Wen Qing like he’s never seen a cleric before, and Jiang Cheng spends the entire trip to Phandolin messing with his whip, which is the stupidest weapon Wei Wuxian has ever seen.

Well, then everything immediately goes horribly wrong, though, and turns out that Jiang Cheng is pretty okay with that whip. Qionglin (Wei Wuxian spoke to the man all of one time, but he was sweet, if a little awkward) gets himself kidnapped by a bunch of goblins, and their employer is gods-know-where with whatever a Black Spider is, and suddenly this very boring escort mission is a very not boring rescue mission.

There’s a skeleton in the cave. Wei Wuxian takes an umbrella from it, and it crumbles into dust beneath its red robe. There’s a very annoyed man with a sword who calls himself Song Lan and speaks in static, and he’s somehow not the weirdest part of this whole day.

Phandolin doesn’t survive its brush with the Zidian Gauntlet, and neither does Qionglin. Wen Qing screams when he dies, and Wei Wuxian grabs her under the arms with Jiang Cheng and books it for the empty well in Song Lan’s wake, and they just hide.

And then they go to the goddamn moon, apparently.

TWO

The goddamn moon is run by an older man with hair still a glossy black, toying with a beautifully painted white fan in his hand. He calls himself the Director and–after some testing–hires them more or less on the spot. Something flickers over his face when Wen Qing, bemused by her own upset, makes an offhand mention of a man named Qionglin who died when the Gauntlet brought down so much lightning that it turned Phandolin into black glass. But it’s not Wei Wuxian’s problem, so he doesn’t worry himself over it too much. He takes the payment offered to him by the Director’s aide, a blindfolded, stunningly handsome man in Bureau blue and white who rests his hand on his own chest and says “Xiao Xingchen” and not another word.

The Bureau is–weird. They’ve got a giant jellyfish and a store run by–something Wei Wuxian Does Not Trust and a dorm. Wei Wuxian laughs and kicks Jiang Cheng cheerfully in the ankle and says “Just like college, huh?” and Jiang Cheng gives him a dark look and snaps “I never went to college.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian says, blinking. “Me neither.”

Whatever. They go on a train adventure and there’s a kid, a kid who blinks and stares at Wei Wuxian like he’s seen a goddamn ghost and immediately walks up to introduce himself as Lan Sizhui, boy detective.

Wei Wuxian fucking loves this kid. He’s not sure why this wide-eyed fifteen-year-old latched onto him so hard, but he’s smart, funny, loyal, and extremely easy to pick on. 13/10 child rating, in Wei Wuxian’s book.

(Sizhui, for his part, more or less kicks down the door to his father’s offices in the Astral Plane the second the Reclaimers are gone and shouts “I HAVE A LEAD ON WHAT HAPPENED TO THE WORLD.”)

(His father, Lan Wangji, the Grim Reaper, is very interested to hear all about it–especially when his son casually name-drops three of the biggest bounties that the Raven King, his adoptive elder brother, has ever sent him after, with the exception of that absolutely insufferably sweet-tempered lich Wen Ning.)

THREE

So…the Crystal Kingdom.

Is it Wei Wuxian’s finest hour, shouting obscure tentacle-related threats at the second crystal construct they’ve seen in the past twenty minutes? No, probably not. But it’s been a stressful day, they’re already down one Regulator and Song Lan is fuck-knows-where with Mianmian and, again, this is the second menacing crystal construct they’ve seen in twenty minutes. Or maybe it’s the same one?

Whatever, doesn’t matter. They’re here to hunt down Meng Yao, a scientist who’s been dicking around with some seriously ill-advised necromancy and also the Philosopher’s Stone, and a crystal construct or two isn’t going to stop them.

Wei Wuxian actually physically cannot help himself, though, when the Reapers appear in the mirror, a matched set of beautiful men, and he grins broadly at the one glaring at him most viciously. They get let go on a technicality, along with a conduit still containing Meng Shi’s memory of a vision beyond the cosmos, and Meng Yao leaves with his life and not much more.

Later, Lan Wangji is absolutely betrayed by the realization that his brother willfully set him up to be the primary go-between for the completely breathtaking deeply irritating wizard-by-way-of-death-criminal. And that’s before the whole lich revelation. (He does get a kiss, though, after he watches his brother pulled under by the Hunger. That’s nice. He hopes Wei Wuxian will mitigate the death crimes now that they’re dating.)

FOUR

The seven Relics are as follows:

The Zidian Gauntlet, which can generate a lightning blast so powerful that it can obliterate an entire city. (Jiang Cheng–he watched the others try to lay in protections, try to make their Relics harmless, and he knew it wouldn’t work. All the Gauntlet does is damage. It can melt a city down to black glass, but it can’t be twisted, it can’t be made into any more of a nightmare than it already is. He’s a fighter. He knows all about damage, knew all about what he was making. That doesn’t mean it didn’t kill him by inches to watch it leave a path of destruction–so much that his beloved jiejie tried to seal it away.)

The Oculus, which can make any construct real. (Xiao Xingchen–Nie Huaisang didn’t take everything. He doesn’t remember the mission, or his own past. Something strange got confused in the process, and he lost most of his speech. But he remembers how to fight, handles his sword as cleanly and effectively as ever, and he remembers that he doesn’t think much of Nie Huaisang’s combat skills. Or maybe it’s just really obvious that Nie Huaisang isn’t much of a fighter. Regardless, Xiao Xingchen insisted on accompanying him, before–before. Then they went into the Felicity Wilds, and…Xue Yang is honestly delighted. He’s never managed to ruin someone so badly on the way into Wonderland before. It’s just a shame that Nie Huaisang sent Xiao Xingchen away before they reached the doors.)

The Healer’s Sash, which can manipulate natural forces like the wind, the tides, and tectonic plates just as easily as it can manipulate a heartbeat or a pair of lungs. (Wen Qing–she prays to Pelor, the Dawnfather, the healer and Lord of Light, but she’s long since lost her faith in him as anything but a contracted boss. It’s a shock to everyone including her when she’s granted a right arm made of glass and magic after losing it. She was so determined to make a Relic that could be used for good, but–well. She supposes she should have known better.)

The Philosopher’s Stone, which can more or less transform anything into anything. (Jiang Yanli–she’s a Transmutation wizard, she’s been feeding the crew of the Starblaster for a hundred years on whatever she can pull together. If the right person found the Stone, it would have ended world hunger. The wrong person found the stone. Jiang Yanli tried her damnedest to hunt it down, but she found the Gauntlet first, and, well–she already became a lich to stop one younger brother from doing it. It’s not a struggle to decide that she’s going to take responsibility for saving Jiang Cheng from his own guilt. Then things go horribly wrong, and she spends the next twelve years in an umbrella.)

The Temporal Chalice, which offers complete control over time. (Wen Ning–he was a strict scholar until his sister was contacted about the IPRE’s creation, but he always did want to travel, and his theories about bonds were too good for Xiao Xingchen to pass up having on his crew. Everything he’s done since they lost their home system has been about trying not to leave his family, about trying for second chances, he became a lich for them, he’s done everything to stay with them, of course his Relic is a second chance generator.)

The Animus Flute, which offers control over the spirits of the dead and, in the hands of a sufficiently competent expert, the living. (Wei Wuxian–he’s watched his brother, his sister, his friends, die so many times. He’s terrified of immortality, but he’s most terrified of being alone. He meant to make something that could keep the dead present, so that they would never have to fear being left behind again. Watching it rip Jiang Cheng’s soul clean out of his body in Xue Yang’s hands is the worst thing Wei Wuxian can remember, even after everything is over.)

The Bulwark, which Nie Huaisang never did explain to anyone, but took the shape of a hand-painted fan. (Nie Huaisang lost the only person who mattered to him when the Hunger ate their home, and then as he slowly, painstakingly, rebuilt something like a family, he had to watch them suffer and die for a hundred years. And then he watched them win, and grieve like dying all over again for the winning. He’s sorry they suffered for his actions. He’s not sorry for what he did.)

FIVE

Wen Zhuliu didn’t mean to make his whole plane give up. But he had spent his whole life being used, and it all just seemed so pointless. It all just seemed so pointless. There was always someone stronger, always something bigger, always a rule he couldn’t break, always something, and he started talking, started telling people as much, and--

Wen Qing is about the farthest thing in the fucking world from a peacemaker by nature, if you ask her, but she’s a healer first, last, and most of all. And, she thinks as she watches the sun sink with a very tired man crumbling away at her side, she might be the only person in the worlds who ever noticed that Wen Zhuliu needed a healer.

(They aren’t from the same plane, but--some of the others have found distant family, on their new home. It’s an unanswerable question, if they might have been family, a few dimensions removed. Wen Ning still thinks about it.)

#the untamed #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #taz balance #taz au #starlight writes stuff #*sprints into the room with this au multiple months late and completely out of breath* H E R E #this has been languishing in my drafts for. mm. ever.#i don't even remotely remember enough of my original thoughts about it to provide a lot of tags #but i do have a case for why wzl is john vore (and it's NOT just that i think he's interesting)#i could've made jgy the hunger BUT the plot of taz requires some...reconciliatory ending structure?#and honestly nhs still being something of a puppet master means that i couldn't justify that with jgy #i needed a villain less close to nhs' heart. so i thought about xue yang but i like him as the wonderland lich TOO MUCH.#so instead i thought about who i should make the parlay person--first instincts were jyl and wn because they're Nice #but then i decided that i didn't actually need Nice nearly so much as i needed Invested #and by god can wen qing Invest #so okay--if she was going to do the parlay then i didn't need someone who could be talked around i needed someone who needed a healer #so: wen zhuliu #i don't have to justify myself to you fools #also jgy is always everyone's biggest bad so he can let someone else have a turn #jyl develops a crush on a completely socially awkward rogue from inside an umbrella by the way!#pour one out for jzx because he is NOT equipped for an ethereal woman of violet fire to blush at him #a queue we will keep and our honor someday avenge #thishazeleyeddemon #asked and answered

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miyuki-scourgeofthefirenation · 4 years

Text

Bop to the Top

Oh boy what have I done? I wrote fanfic, that’s what I done. Basically, I was just chilling, minding my business, when I came across this YouTube video:

youtube

I then had an idea for a fanfic that would not let me go until I wrote it. So I wrote it. Please be nice, this is my first time writing fanfic ever. It also became longer than I anticipated so here it is in all its unedited glory. Enjoy! Story begins under the cut, because yikes, why is this over 2000 words?!?

(Set roughly five years after the end of the war. Zuko brought in a special team to help with Azula and her situation, because Zuko is a sweet boy who still loves his sister and wants her to be okay. The comics? I don’t know her.)

Sokka was spending a perfectly pleasant afternoon strolling around the gardens at the palace when he was unexpectedly tackled by someone sneaking up on him. Actually, make that two someones sneaking up on him.

“Ooof,” he grunts as his body makes contact with the ground. Any hope he might have had for regaining his breath is dashed when the two someones who tackled him promptly fall right on top of him as well.

“Sokka!” a giddy voice shouts, followed by peals of laughter. Sokka opens his eyes to find himself face to face with a chirping lemur. The pressure on his back disappears as his two attackers stand up.

“Sorry, sorry!” another voice rings out, reaching down to help Sokka to his feet. “We were just so excited to surprise you!” Sokka turns around to see his sister Katara, and Aang standing there.

“Guess we got a little carried away!” Aang adds with a sheepish tone in his voice that somehow doesn’t match up with the light in his eyes or wide grin on his face. Sokka doesn’t say anything, just reaches out to scoop Katara and Aang into a hug as Momo scurries up to perch on his shoulder.

“I had no idea you were coming for a visit,” Sokka says, releasing the others from the hug after a few moments.

“It was a last minute decision,” Katara explains. “We were charting our course to the next destination on our itinerary, and realized that it wasn’t that far out of our way to stop by here en route. Thought it would be nice to come see you and Zuko for a day or two.”

“And I thought ‘What would be more fun than making this visit?’ Making this a ‘Surprise visit!’” Aang crowed happily. “Hope that’s okay,” he said then, a bit more tentatively, as if it was just occurring to him that maybe advance warning of their arrival would have been a good thing.

“Of course it is!” Sokka beams, “You know I’m always excited to get to see you two!” A slightly angry chirp comes from the direction of his shoulder. “And you too Momo. I couldn’t forget about my favorite flying lemur.”

It is at this moment that two palace guards come running up to the group out of breath. “Master Sokka,” one pants, “Your sister and the Avatar have arrived unexpectedly and wish to see you immediately.”

Sokka exchanges a brief look with Aang and Katara at this obvious statement, but decides not to comment on it out loud.

“We apologize for not leading them here for a proper greeting,” the other guard says, looking somewhat miffed as well as quite sweaty. “But…” He trails off looking at the two visitors, neatly conveying the hesitance of the guards to attempt to stop the waterbending master and Avatar from going anywhere they might want.

“That’s quite alright,” Sokka states, addressing the red-faced guards. “If you could please see to it that appropriate arrangements are made for my sister and Aang to stay here for the next few days. Thank you.” With that the two guards make their bows to the group and depart.

Katara and Aang loop their arms through Sokka’s as they begin to walk towards the far end of the garden. “So,” Katara begins, “how have you been? How’s that Fire Lord fiancé of yours?”

Sokka grins at this. “I’m good, he’s good. Been keeping busy with Ambassador duties, and Fire Lord duties for him. There have been a couple of small uprising plans discovered recently, but nothing like the turmoil of the early days…” he said trailing off. He still didn’t like to remember those difficult months after Zuko assumed the throne, which featured a steady influx of plots to remove him from power and resume the war. Based on the looks on Katara and Aang’s faces, they didn’t like this reminder either. The three quickly shook themselves out of their momentary gloom, focusing back on the present. “I know he’ll want to see you as well, he’ll be so thrilled you’re here!”

“Where is he?” Aang questions.

“He’s spending some time with Azula,” Sokka explains. “She’s been doing really well recently,” he adds after seeing the dubious expressions on their faces. “Ever since we got those new healers in and the new chambers in the hospital wing set up specially for her she’s been showing a lot of improvement. Way fewer rants about taking back her rightful place as Fire Lord!” Katara and Aang still don’t look convinced, and he supposes he can’t blame them for that. If he didn’t live here and see the daily workings of the situation he probably wouldn’t believe it either. “It’s just about time for Zuko to be finishing up with his visit to her,” Sokka says somewhat hastily, eager to move past this particular subject. “I’ll go over and get him, let him know you’re here. Then we can all have dinner together, properly catch up.”

“Great!” Aang exclaims. “Me and Katara should go see about getting Appa settled in, he can be very picky about how he wants things you know!” Katara gave a slight roll of her eyes as Aang bounded off with Momo flying behind him.

“We’ll see you at dinner!” she calls with a wave as she follows her boyfriend. Sokka smiles at their retreating backs. He’s so happy that they’re here, and he knows Zuko will be as well. With that thought in mind he heads off for the hospital wing of the palace.

As he rounds the corner leading to Azula’s chambers he hears something extremely unexpected. Typical noises that can be found in the hallway are soft talking, loud screams about Azula finally breaking free and reclaiming her place, tears, or silence. This is none of those things. This seems to be… music? Sokka is confused, and quietly pushes open the door to the room. He learned the hard way that making his presence known immediately was not necessarily a smart idea. Who knew a hairbrush could be such a powerful projectile weapon?

Sokka instantly freezes at the sight that meets his eyes. Zuko and Azula are in the center of the room and they seem to be doing some sort of… choreographed dance routine? There is an entirely unnecessary amount of jazz hands and shimmying that seems to be happening and Sokka is absolutely thrilled. He breaks out into an unbelieving and slightly wicked smile. This is good, this is just the sort of low level embarrassing incident he can use to tease Zuko for ages. The two dancing firebenders haven’t yet noticed Sokka’s presence, they’re too focused on the dance. The song continues to play in the background, something about bopping and glory. Sokka isn’t paying close attention to the words of the song, the sight in front of him is far more entertaining and deserves his full attention. The song comes to an end, and Zuko and Azula make their grand finale on a ladder (where did they get a ladder from? Sokka muses briefly). It is only then that Sokka makes his presence known, by beginning to clap. He knew that they would instantly stop dancing if they were aware of him earlier, and he was not about to sacrifice seeing this for anything. The two whirl around at the sound of his clapping, as well as the muffled laughter he’s been holding in this entire time and is starting to lose control of.

Zuko flushes red. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. He knows his fiancé, and he knows full well the amount of teasing he can expect to get from this sort of situation. At this point he can only hope for the damage to be minimal, and that Sokka didn’t see too much of the routine. He knows he’s lost when he sees the evil gleam in Sokka’s eyes.

“Oh,” Sokka laughs, “I’m pretty sure I caught most of that, and let me say I am very happy I did. When can we expect to see performances of it in the theaters around town? Personally, I think all Fire Nation citizens should have a chance to witness that. It would probably be very good for morale.” He crosses his arms and grins at the siblings, who have since come down off of the ladder. Surprisingly Azula hasn’t said anything yet, and has kept her face aimed downwards towards the floor. Both Sokka and Zuko dart their gaze to her, somewhat nervously gauging her reaction.

She looks up abruptly, her gaze moving back and forth between the two. A small smile spread across her lips. “What do you think Zuzu? A couple more months of practice before our grand debut?” Zuko looks shocked for a minute before getting his expression back under control. She turns to Sokka. “You know,” she drawls to him, “I could be ready to perform for the masses tomorrow, but you know Zuzu, he’s not as fast a learner as I am. He needs more time to practice, and I refuse to perform if the routine is not perfected! But, alas, it is now time for dinner, and so perfection shall have to wait another day at least. We can pick up with practice again another day Zuzu,” she states imperiously, laying a hand on his arm as she walks into the small dining area off of the main room. When she gets to the doorway she turns her head slightly to look at him. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly, “I had fun.” Then she sweeps into the other room and out of their sight.

Wordlessly, Zuko and Sokka exit her chambers and begin walking back towards the main part of the palace. “Wow,” Zuko mutters.

“I know,” Sokka says, “She was actually… nice for once. Glad to see the new environment and healers are helping her so much.”

“Me too,” Zuko says quietly, lost in his own thoughts.

“And you,” Sokka blurts out. Zuko looks up at him questioningly. “You’re really helping her too. Clearly,” Sokka rambles. “She seems to be coming around to trusting you a lot more. I know that’s important to you.”

Zuko smiles a bit at that. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Sooooooo, about that dance….” Sokka grins at him

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Zuko whines. “I just had a major breakthrough with my sister, can’t I get a pass on the mocking for once?”

Sokka looks vaguely affronted. “Do you know me at all? I am very happy about the whole ‘Breakthrough with formerly evil sister thing,’ but if you think you’re gonna be able to get out of this on the strength of that alone…” he scoffs. “That dance routine is the best material that has fallen into my lap in years, there’s no way I’m about to pass it up!”

Zuko groans affectionately, he knew that was gonna be the answer, and despite his embarrassment he can’t find it in himself to be too upset. He goodnaturedly puts up with Sokka’s shrieking about it as they begin to make their way to dinner. He’s only half paying attention when Sokka says “Oh man, Katara and Aang are gonna love this! Dinner just got so much better!” That snaps Zuko out of his trance right away.

“What do you mean ‘Katara’ and ‘Aang’ and ‘Dinner’?” He demands.

“Oh,” Sokka says slyly, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, “Did I forget to mention? Katara and Aang have dropped in for a surprise visit. We’re headed to dinner with them right now. And trust me, this story, is gonna be the highlight of the evening!” With that Sokka gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, flashes a wicked grin and runs away down the hall and into the dining room. Zuko huffs indignantly, realizing Sokka had run away before he had a chance to respond. Grumbling, but still smiling slightly, he follows his fiancé into the dining room, looking forward to seeing his friends.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka #zuko #zukka #azula #aang #katara #kataang #momo #appa #high school musical #bop to the top #fanfiction #me? writing a 2000 word fanfic over a 1 minute video?#it's more likely than you think

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shiniestcrow · 4 years

Text

Actually, you know what? I’ll post it here, that way at least it’s somewhere

The prompt was

You're a novice demon who managed to convice a mother to give up her first born in exchange for eternal youth. You did so, because it seems like the kind of thing all the other demons are doing, but now you are not sure what you are supposed to do with an infant and it's way too late to ask.

Warning for vague description of torture

I made a mistake, that much is clear by now. The human keeps staring at me, reaching with its pudgy little fingers for my claws. I gave up pulling away after the what, twentieth time? Anyway. Human infants are disgusting with their weirdly big heads, their too-short limbs and useless claws. This one can't even lift its own head! Or maybe that's normal for them? I don't really care. At least it has stopped screaming for now. After it had rejected all the meat I offered, I finally got it to drink some milk.

The child makes a face I can't understand. As I lean closer, it suddenly makes a grab for one of my horns. I pull back just in time, but this seems to distress it. With a sigh, I lean forward and let it put its disgusting hand on me. It giggles. Which is one of the more pleasant sounds it can apparently make. Hell, what do I do now?

Surprisingly, I manage to keep the child alive for more than a few hours. I did consider just leaving it to die from time to time, but that would feel like a waste of my payment. It grows painfully slowly. But I have time. I take on a few more contracts. I grant an untalented young wizard more power than he could have ever dreamed of. I save a young woman's children from a deadly illness. Though I have changed my payment to favours instead of firstborns. No more children for me.

I study humans to learn how to take care of mine. I soon learn that they have names for each and every one of them. Demons don't have names. There is no need, after all, we rarely interact with each other. I decide to use the first name I hear: Alex. It can decide on another one itself when it's older. I don't really care. I also learn that human children should interact with other humans. That one is even more complicated. I finally manage to change my appearance to something resembling a human. They seem to think me disfigured when I show myself. It suits me quite well since they don't ask where I come from or where I acquired the child. The only one that knows who I truly am is the young woman who's children I saved. I call in my favour, so she lets my human play with her children.

The child, Alex, seems to develop quite well. The other children it plays with have grown attached, and the young woman talks with pride about all of them. She has told me her name is Miriam. I don't know why she felt the need to do so. She has also taken to invite me into her home when I come to retrieve my child. I have told her that I would not be indebted to her for this, but she seems not to care. I eventually accept.

Alex grows taller over time. It learns to walk and talk and eat on its own. It starts to call me Maman on the suggestion of the other children. I tell it that I have no need for a name, but it insists. I accept my fate once again.

Alex starts asking questions. I answer what I know. Surprisingly, there is very little that upsets it.

"Maman, why do you look and sound different when we are alone?" "This is my true form, child. Humans are scared of me like this." "Why? You're not scary." "I do not know their reasons."

"Maman, am I a boy or a girl?" "I don't know, decide on your own." "What are you?" "A demon. We have no such thing as boys or girls." "Then I'm a demon as well." "Alright."

"Maman, will I look like you once I grow up?" "I doubt it." "Why?" "We are not related by blood. You will look more like Miriam than you'd ever look like me." "Oh..." "Are you upset by this, child?" "No, but I would have liked to look like you."

"Maman, if we are not related, where do I come from?" "You're mother asked for eternal youth and I got you in exchange." "Oh. Then I'm glad to be with you." "Why? Would you not rather live with the one that gave birth to you?" "No, I don't even know her. And she thought looking young was more important than me. You're much better." "How so?" "You never gave me away."

When Alex reaches their twelfth summer, Miriam asks to speak to me alone. Unwillingly, I grow concerned. "Is something wrong?" She shrugs. "I wouldn't say it's wrong, but I think Alex should probably get some magical training." "What makes you think they have any magical talent?" She looks at me like she can't believe I missed it. "Alex has a different hair colour every day. Yesterday all of my kids where suddenly blonde." "Is this not normal for humans?" She sighs, but there is a smile on her face. "It's not. Have you ever seen me with a different hair colour?" I look at her head. I never really paid attention to her hair. Or her appearance in general. Humans aren't particularly interesting to look at. (Alex is the exception, though not because of their appearance.)

"I will see what I can do." Miriam nods with a smile. "That's all I ask."

I talk to Alex that same day. "Miriam thinks you should receive training for your magical talent." Their eyes practically light up at this. "Really? Will you teach me?" "You can not learn what I can do. Humans possess a different kind of magic from my own. But I can find you a teacher." Alex frowns, thinking. "Will I have to leave?" "You will likely live with your teacher while you learn." There is a long pause. "Can I come back once I finished?" "Of course. I do not wish to get rid of you permanently." "Okay. Then I want to go."

I contact the wizard I helped to power so many years ago. He works for a king nowadays and agrees to take on Alex as his apprentice as my favour. He even seems relieved that I do not ask for more. I do make it clear that Alex is to be treated well, however.

Alex says farewell to Miriam and her children. It's a tearful goodbye on all fronts, but soon we are on our way. I would bring Alex to the wizard Tibalt and then return to my own home. Perhaps go back to work. I have been slacking somewhat since Alex got handed to me.

The travel is uneventful, but Alex looks at everything and everyone we encounter with big, fascinated eyes. It is nice to see them excited.

When we finally reach the castle where they'll spend the next few years, Alex suddenly stops. "Is something wrong?" I ask. Concern does not come naturally to a demon, but somehow Alex has changed me in more ways than one. "No, I just," they bite their lower lip, a clear sign of distress. Suddenly, thin human arms sling around my neck. "I'll miss you," Alex says, not letting go of me. After a moment, I lift my own arms, returning the hug. "I will miss you as well. But we will see each other again." We stand like that, holding on to each other for a long while. Finally, Alex let's go of me, wiping their face with a sleeve. When they have regained their composure, they smile and nod at me. We go the rest of the way and, after one final hug, we part ways at the castle doors.

The following years are lonely. I had never expected to feel this way; Demons are naturally solitary beings. Alex writes me letters and I answer (with Miriam's help). It helps to stay in contact this way. They talk about the people in the castle, what spells and potions they are learning. I tell them news about Miriam and her children.

Once a year, Alex comes by to visit. The first three times I go to the castle myself, afterwards, they make their way alone. It is almost the end of Alex's sixth and final year of their apprenticeship when someone shows up at my home that I had never expected to see again.

The woman is wrapped in dark, expensive clothes, only showing her young face, which is enhanced by skillfully applied makeup. I'm sure she is quite beautiful by human standards. She smiles when I open my door. "I'm here to reclaim what is mine," she says, her voice melodious like a singing bird.

I tower over her and yet she seems not intimated in the slightest. "There is nothing here that could belong to you," I answer, my voice like rocks grinding against one another. Her smile falters. "Foul creature, do you think you can trick me? I asked for eternal youth to preserve my beauty, and yet I scar like any other." I stare at her. "You never asked to be invincible. Eternal youth is what you wanted, and it is what you got. You have not aged a day since I last saw you." She spits, rage twisting her face into something ugly. "You will return my child to me, or you will regret it." "There is no child of yours here. And even if it was, I would not give it away to you. I have kept my word, and you will keep yours."

She yells, and suddenly I am hit by magic of a strength I have never encountered. I am knocked off my feet and slammed into a wall within the blink of an eye. The woman now stands over me, a sickening grin on her lips. "Did you think I would come unprepared?" I don't hear what else she says as my mind slips into darkness.

When I wake, I am bound to a wall with thick chains, my arms above my head. I try to move, but a burning pain shoots through me. I hear cackling laughter and look up. The woman stands before me, arms crossed and clearly amused by my predicament. I try to speak but find that I can not.

"I will find my child," the woman says, "and until I do, you will keep me company." I struggle against my bonds, but I can only ignore the pain for so long. I slump against the wall, exhausted. "Do be a good pet and don't cause such a ruckus." Her voice is as sweet as her words are cruel, "You won't be getting away any time soon."

She is right. Days pass, and I grow weaker. The woman, whose name I still do not know, only feeds me enough to keep me from falling into permanent unconsciousness. She knows I won't die from starvation, but this only seems to make her crueller. She tries painful spells on me, makes me drink potions that cause convulsions. The chains cause blinding pain every time I struggle against them. I soon give up trying to escape her games. There is no use.

My mind keeps wandering to Alex, and even to Miriam and her children. I wonder if Alex has finished their apprenticeship by now. If they have returned to an empty home. If they think I have abandoned them. I was supposed to meet Miriam the day the woman appeared. Perhaps she too thinks I have finally returned to my demonic ways, fleeing without a word. I would not blame any of them.

The day I feared arrives. The woman stands before me once more, a triumphant smile on her face. "I have found my child. We will reunite, and you will rot here for all eternity. I'd say goodbye, but I don't think it will be particularly good for you." I barely lift my head to look at her. My horns have grown brittle over time, one of them even broke off a while ago. They still feel too heavy for me.

"Nothing to say?" She kicks my side, but the pain barely registers. My only thought is the hope that she won't hurt Alex. After all, why would she hurt her own child, if even a demon didn't? She clicks her tongue and turns to leave. "No one will find you. I placed wards around this place that even the strongest wizards would have problems with." She leaves. I stay shackled to the wall, too weak to give even a token of protest.

Days pass, maybe weeks. I can't keep count. I grow impossibly weaker. My second horn breaks off. It falls into my lap, laying there as if to taunt me. Perhaps I deserve it.

I welcome it when I finally fall unconscious. It is a relief.

To my surprise, I wake again. There is warmth on my face. Hands. Warm hands, stroking softly over my cheek. "Maman," a voice says, so far away. "Maman, I'm here." I can't answer, can't even open my eyes. Consciousness escapes me.

I wake once more. This time the chains are gone. I am lying down instead of sitting against the cold stone wall. Someone is holding onto my arm. My body feels heavy. I groan.

"Maman?" I open my eyes. Alex is leaning over me, tears streaking down their face. I try to lift my hand. They shouldn't be upset.

Alex suddenly throws themself on top of me, arms slinging around my neck. "I was so worried," their voice is muffled against my chest. I manage to put my own arms around their back, holding them close. "How?" I croak. Alex sniffs and pulls back. "I'll tell you once you have recovered a bit more. Miriam will want to know that you're awake as well."

True to their words, Alex helps me regain at least parts of my strength. And once I'm able to sit and eat on my own, they tell me what happened.

"When I finished my apprenticeship, I honestly was a bit confused that you didn't come to pick me up. But then I thought 'well, the last years I also went home on my own' so I said goodbye to everyone and went alone. But when I arrived, you weren't there. I went to Miriam, thinking that maybe you were with her. She told me that you had disappeared weeks ago and that no one had seen you since. She was really worried and so was I afterwards.

When I went back home to search for clues, this woman showed up. She said she's my mother and that I could come back to her now." Alex's eyes flare with a rage I haven't seen before. "She said that she had taken care of you and that I would never have to see you again."

Alex stays quiet for a moment, breathing in deeply through their nose. I carefully take their hand in mine. They smile a little.

"I asked her what she meant and when she said that she had locked you up I... I was so angry. I started yelling at her to tell me where you were, but she refused. She still tried to convince me to live with her of all people. She only got angry when I told her that she had given me up already and that I would never go with her now.

She attacked me with her magic, but I was stronger than her. I was so angry. I didn't think about what I was doing. She had hurt you, and so I wanted to hurt her." Alex grows quieter. "I did."

"I sent one of her spells back at her, and it hit her right in the chest. Miriam helped me bury her." I gently squeeze their hand. "You defended yourself." Alex nods with a sniff.

"Afterwards we still had to find you. We eventually did, but then I found the wards. I had to ask Tibalt for help. We finally broke through, and you were inside. I don't think I'll ever forget how you looked." A shiver runs through their body. "I am sorry," I say, but they shake their head.

"This wasn't your fault. I'm just glad I got you back. And you'll be okay, right?" "Yes, it is difficult to kill a demon."

Alex nods and pulls back their shoulders. Their eyes are filled with almost demonic determination. "I don't regret that that woman is dead. And I'll make sure nothing like this happens ever again.

No one hurts my Maman."

#it's unedited #and I haven't written in first person in years #so this was pretty much a self-indulgent little experiment #it was fun to just write #my writing #crow writes

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narniaandplowmen · 4 years

Text

It is not that I love you less / Than when before your feet I lay (But to prevent the sad increase / Of hopeless love, I keep away)

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier Also on AO3 2154 words.

General Audiences / No Archive Warnings Apply Complete

Part 2 of Half a Century of Poetry

Jaskier, back in Lettenhove for the winter, considers how Geralt's words on the Mountain were unfair, but that nothing on this world can stop him from loving the Witcher anyways.

They had talked, after the Mountain. Or, well, Jaskier had talked. Geralt had been about to leave when Jaskier finally made his way down, exhausted and devastated and wounded from the lonely, perilous journey downhill. It was clear that Geralt had wanted to avoid him, but Roach, always a sucker for the sweet sugar cubes and shining apples the bard usually carried with him, had approached Jaskier on her own free will. And he had to say something, he couldn’t just stay silent. So he had given a promise. I will not come to you, but if you ever change your mind I should not be hard to find.

And so he had. There was much that could be said about the bard, about his extravagance and tendency to ignore the rules. But if Jaskier made a promise, he made sure to keep it. Which is why he almost never made promises, regardless of what other people might think he did. Answering ‘sure’ to ‘will you promise to stay behind whilst I fulfil this contract’ meant that he is open to making that promise, but not that he is actually making it. Being part-Fae, fully noble and just generally a little shit made Jaskier proficient in finding loopholes in his so-called promises. But this? This was a real promise. And he had kept to it.

It was winter, and Jaskier had returned to Lettenhove to reunite with his sister and his nieces and nephews. The little kids were elated to see their favourite (and only) uncle, and although his brother-in-law - who had married quite above his station and continually feared Jaskier would reclaim his rightful place as heir - was less happy to see him return, his sister had welcomed him with open arms. The lands of Lettenhove looked gorgeous in the shimmering snow, white like- Jaskier bit his lip, an awful habit he had picked up since-

Avoiding the thought was hopeless. He had tried everything to distract himself, but nothing could take away his endless, hopeless, futile lover for Geralt of Rivia, friend of humanity. His sister had noticed, of course. Damn observant, that woman. She had always been, but Jaskier was sure it had gotten even worse now that she was a mother. The Fae blood probably didn’t help either.

‘Why don’t you write it out? That always helped you when you were younger,’ she had said one day, breaking through Jaskier’s musings of how the colour of her dress reminded him of Geralt’s eyes.

‘You don’t have to share it with me, or anyone, if you don’t want to. But it might help.’

So here he was, sitting in the manor’s humble library overseeing the snow-covered vineyard, with a quill in hand and paper in front of him like he was twelve, whilst longingly staring at his baby brother, who now lied next to his parents in graves covered in snow, and younger sister, who were allowed to play outside whilst he was forced to make his homework. Now he looked down at a new generation of children. One day he had wished he could have some of his own, and he could not deny that, after Geralt had accidentally ended up with a child surprise, he had dreamed of the three of them forming a family. Nothing now could be further from the truth. Instead of living in a cottage near the sea, Geralt retiring from his Witcher business to open a smithy, Jaskier opening a school and them raising the adorable Ciri together, Geralt had refused to claim his promised child, shunned Jaskier from his life and gone off to who-knew-where to, as far as Jaskier knew, continue killing monsters for little pay. He had not come to apologise, not come to ask Jaskier to rejoin him, not come to find him at all. And so, Jaskier had kept his promise. And Jaskier had kept away. If only his heart would get the message, too.

It is not that I love you less

Than when before your feet I lay,

But to prevent the sad increase

Of hopeless love, I keep away.

Carefully placing his quill back in the inkpot, Jaskier resumed his watch over the playful children in the snow. They had found some sticks now, and were playfighting. From his third-floor window he could hear fragments of their conversation.

‘You -- monster!’

‘I wanna be the Witch--’

‘--ys get to be the Witcher!’

‘Because the Witchers are -- cle Jaskier says so!’

‘I don’t want to be a kimimomo! I don’t want to be the bad --’

Jaskier smiled at little John’s mispronunciation of the monster’s name. The kids, inspired by Jaskier’s songs, had taken to playing ‘Wicher and Monster’, with dramatic fake-out deaths and some accidental real injuries. It seemed that, even in the quiet, boring lands of Lettenhove, Jaskier could not avoid being reminded of the man he loved so dearly. The snow as white as his hair, his sister’s yellow dresses, the wolf statues at the entrance of the property, the children’s play, the notes with unfinished lyrics describing Geralt’s heroic actions Jaskier had left behind during previous stays… Every day there was something, no matter how small, that reminded him of the man he had lost. The soup that tasted exactly like that served in the inn where he had first been allowed to wash the Witcher’s hair. The snide remarks from his brother-in-law that seemed to come straight from Geralt’s vocabulary. Filavandrel’s lute, greeting him whenever he entered his room. Everything around him was another tiny dagger piercing through his skin, making its way to his heart and cutting yet another piece of it in half.

In vain (alas!) for everything

Which I have known belong to you,

Your form does to my fancy bring,

And makes my old wounds bleed anew.

It had been late spring when they had parted. It felt like they had barely reunited after winter, during which Geralt had visited his strange Witcher castle Jaskier was never invited to and Jaskier had spent his days teaching Ciri and nights playing his music at the Cintran court. And although he loved the court, Calanthe’s murderous glares when he accidentally mentioned Geralt had made him nervous enough to be happy when spring arrived and he could leave again, back on the road, following the person holding his rapidly-beating heart without even being aware of it. The dragon hunt had only been their fourth contract of the year, and after- After, when summer still stretched in front of him for another six long months, everything had felt off.

Sure, he had travelled, sang his songs at inns and bars and the occasional manor. Sure, he had met up with other bards, competed in a couple of sing-offs, written a handful of new songs which gained instant popularity. Sure, he had lived the life any normal, travelling bard did. But he wasn’t normal now, was he. He was Jaskier, Bard Extraordinaire, the best songwriter and lute-player on the Continent. His audience’s words, not his. He knew there was always something to be improved upon: a lyric that could be better, a beat he missed, a chord he botched. His audience might not notice, but he most certainly did. He would make quite an awful bard if he didn’t, after all. So, even though he did everything any other travelling bard would do, those six months had been strange. He had automatically found himself drawn to notice boards, turning around to inform Geralt of a contract only to be, once again, reminded the man was not there. No rhythmic sound of hooves touching the dirt during the day, no scraping noise of someone sharpening their sword near the campfire during the evening, and just his own breath breaking the silence of the night. It had been as if the world was ill, asleep in bed trying to fend off a fever that caused strange, surreal visions that gave everything normal a slightly sickly hue. Maybe his sister was right, maybe writing would help heal his broken heart.

Who in the spring from the new sun

Already has a fever got,

Too late begins those shafts to shun,

Which Phœbus through his veins has shot.

The playful screams of the children in the snow briefly silenced as the cheery voice of Molly the Cook called out that dinner was almost done. Jaskier knew that one of the kids would knock on his door soon, giving Uncle Jaskier the same message. Three stanzas in just as many hours, a poor yield for a poet of his stature. A sudden rage overtook him as he looked down at the half-empty paper. The words Geralt had thrown at him on the Mountain had felt fair at first, but after moping about them for while, Jaskier had realised that Geralt had been incredibly unfair. Him, shovelling Geralt’s shit? Yes, shovelling it out of his stable and onto the compost pile where it belonged. It was Geralt who created the shit around him, making stupid wishes that endangered the people around him, invoking the law of surprise less than fifteen minutes after learning Parvetta was a child surprise herself. Surely the Witcher knew that child surprises tended to give birth to child surprises, surely he smelled that Parvetta was pregnant to begin with. Even Jaskier had noticed that Parvetta had worn an unusual, slightly-out-of-style dress clearly intended to hide her abdomen. If Geralt had not been so incredibly self-centred, so incredibly self-absorbed and emotionally stunted he would have realised that his words were absolute bullshit. It had been Jaskier who had calmed Calanthe enough to not send hundreds of assassins after Geralt. It had been Jaskier who had tried to take the djinn away so the clearly exhausted Witcher would not do anything stupid. His wishes might have sounded idiotic, but they were clearly and precisely phrased, his mother had taught him enough about Fae magic for him to know djinns were just as tricky, if not worse, to deal with. Yes, Jaskier had shovelled the shit, but it was not his fault Geralt liked to dive into every single heap of manure he met. So no, what Geralt had said had not been fair. But by the time Jaskier had gathered enough of his wits to realise that, the Witcher had long been gone, and Jaskier’s promise had already been made.

Too late he would the pain assuage,

And to thick shadows does retire;

About with him he bears the rage,

And in his tainted blood the fire.

The sound of a wildly thrown-open door and a young boy’s voice shouting his name calmed the bard’s sudden anger.

‘UNCLE JASKIER DINNER’S READY MOLLY SAYS YOU NEED TO WASH YOUR HANDS!’ Little John, still carrying his stick, now ran into view.

‘Did Molly also say you were allowed to take your sword inside?’

‘A Witcher always carries his swords with him, you told me so! And I am a Witcher, not a stupid kimino- kimomo-’

‘Kikimore,’ Jaskier helpfully supplied.

‘Yes that. Will you tell Eddy? Will you tell him I’m a Witcher? I don’t want to be a monster, the snow is cold and wet when I fall down to die.’

Jaskier smiled at his youngest nephew’s petulant face. ‘Only if you put your sword back outside. True gentlemen don’t carry their swords to the dinner table, not even Witchers. Come, we’ll place it in the stables to keep it safe, and then we go wash our hands together, okay?’

‘Okay, uncle Jaskier. Can I sit next to you during dinner?’

‘Of course you can.’

Jaskier smiled at the young boy stretching out his arms to be picked up. If only life could stay that easy, with simple concerns like cold snow and fake swords. Jaskier knew, after all, it was impossible for him to stay angry. How could he hate the one he loved? The one who had, unknowingly, carried his heart for the past two decades, and would carry it for eternity and beyond? He would keep his promise to the Witcher, he would stay in his self-imposed exile, no matter the cost. A promise is a promise, after all. And just as he would keep the promise he had made to Geralt whilst feeding Roach that final, slightly crushed sugar cube, he would keep the promise he had made to himself whilst walking down the first mountain he and the Witcher had climbed to fight a supposed devil. I will love you till my dying days.

And, as he placed his nephew on his back, joking that ‘this horse will lead the noble Witcher to the stables,’ Jaskier mentally composed the final stanza he had struggled with for so many hours.

But vow’d I have, and never must

Your banish’d servant trouble you;

For if I break, you may distrust

The vow I made to love you, too.

#the witcher #the witcher ff #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #geraskier ff #written by me #made by me #It is not that I love you less / Than when before your feet I lay (But to prevent the sad increase / Of hopeless love I keep away)#it is not that i love you less #onceuponadisneypotter #Half a Century of Poetry

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aki-draws-things · 4 years

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NaNoWriMo 2020 #08

Following yesterday’s prompt here the ending of the fic with a much more proper word countfor the challenge. i have great expectations for this year and I’m doing my best to succeed. The only proble is that I end knee deep into new AUs every time I write something so Now I really want to make those little details a canon for some of the others fics.

Also that means there will probably be more Wen Zhuliu angst too. And i don’t feel sorry.

Have fun reading~ And let me know what you think!!

Day: 08/11/2020

Prompt: enemy to caretaker

Ship: None official

Word Count: 1912

Wen Zhuliu knew the meaning of loyalty ever since childhood.

“Take care of your brother. Don’t stray from the righteous path. And remember, when the world will turn against you, and believe me, it will, your brother will be the one who will never betray you.”

Wen Zhuliu gave his outmost loyalty to his brother, and his brother did the same. Until the day he saw it for the first time, his father’s golden core. People around him thought he was greedy, and ambitious, and craving for power. People thought he killed his father and brother because he wanted to be better and stronger than them. His brother was only seven. Wen Zhuliu kept the truth hidden so well over the years that he almost began to believe the words going around, but none of them were true. He reached out when he saw the golden core shining bright, fascinated by its warmth, he wanted to brush his fingers on him, he wanted to hug his fatter and press his cheek against the bright light . But when he touched it, it changed. He felt power, a surge of energy rushing inside of him, burning and painful. He screamed and his screams covered his father’s. When his legs decided to work again he stood and ran dashing past his sleepy brother, with nothing but the clothes he was wearing. The pain subsided slowly, it took him three agonizing days before the superfluous energy dissipated and by then he couldn’t turn back and return home. So he wandered. Everywhere he went there were people with bright golden cores, every time he brushed against one he felt pain and energy flow from the person to him. It was Wen RuoHan who explained what he could do. Wen RuoHan who took his frightened hand and raised him to walk next to him. Wen RuoHan who gave him the Wen name. Wen Zhuliu knew that day where his loyalty now lay. There was a little seven years old boy back at home, scared and weeping in a dark room begging the wind to bring back his older brother.

When his eyes laid on Nie ZongHui he thought it was an illusion, an hallucination, because in the end the little, scared boy grew up resembling their father more than he could probably remember. But he was real, he was there, and old loyalties sparkled brighter than ever. “Your brother will never betray you.” Once their father said and he chose to believe. Blood called loyalty and he let him go. He almost reached out, not to his golden core, but to his face. He believed to a lie for so long that he wanted to feel it real. He let him run.

Looking at Nie MingJue forced on his knees and held by three soldiers, Wen Zhuliu wondered what ZongHui saw in him. He knew the Nie history, of course, just as he knew the history of all the Main Sects, Wen RuoHan taught him carefully and well before he went mad with power and poisoned the world around him, included his children, leading his wife he once claimed to love more than everything to take here own life. Wen Zhuliu wasn’t a murderer, he had never killed, not that he was aware of it. She grabbed his hand and pressed it on her lower abdomen before he could even think of what was happening, when he tried to move away, eyes wide in horror, it was too late. His power, the energy residing in his fingers, latched around her golden core and grasped it, pulled it, twisted it until it was his together with every drop of her spiritual energy. She fell and the door slammed open, his hands still glowing softly, his body readjusting at the new wave of energy.

Wen Zhuliu knew loyalty, and he knew fear and pain. He was unconscious before the hand of his Master reached him.

“What’s so special?” He used to be curious, he used to ask more questions than normal, he used to ask three questions, and then two more before the first one had been answered. He pushed this side of him deep deep down the more he lived in the Wen sect, the more he served a power hungry Wen RuoHan and his younger son. But Wen Chao wasn’t in the Unclean Realm that night and he could allow himself to wonder. “What does he see in there?” He looked over the bed Nie MingJue laid, his spiritual energy blocked and preventing him to heal faster, sweat covering his body as he fought through the pain and the infection from the branding mark.

Nie HuaiSang was on the bed closer to him, he leaned over and passed a soothing salve over the mark before covering it again, he moaned and opened his eyes, immediately trying to get away from him.

“What do you want? What have you done to us? Da-ge…?” He turned and looked at his brother before jumping down from his bed before Wen Zhuliu could advise him not to move too much and climbed next to him inspecting his not yet healed wound and the heat coming from his body.

“Your brother will never betray you. The world will. The world will be set on fire one day, and your brother will be the only one who would never throw in it to save himself.” His father had been right, in some way. He knew what he was talking about, a bond between brothers, no matter what, was always stronger than any loyalty. “I want that.” He thought surprised at how childish his voice sounded in his mind. “I want that back.” Still wen RuoHan had saved him that day. But he wasn’t the same Wen RuoHan he was now. “Maybe… Maybe I can ask. Maybe he would come with me. Or not. Maybe his loyalty to the Nies is more powerful and means more than me. Than the one who left. Maybe —”

“What have you done to him? His Qi —” Wen Zhuliu blinked, bringing the room back in his focus. No point in dwell on possibilities and past.

“I just blocked it. Wen Chao asked me to burn his golden core, I—” Disobeyed. That wasn’t going to end well. He swallowed and looked again at Nie HuaiSang who was now holding an empty cup as his only weapon. Wen Zhuliu smiled. “What are you going to do? Throw it at m—”

The cup flew next to his head before he finished the question and shattered on the wall behind him. He sighed.

“It was rhetorical. Believe me or not but I’m not planning on harming any of you. Your wind is almost healed, it will scar but there is nothing I can do to prevent it. His — I’m good at healing, but not enough apparently. Can’t unblock his energy, - “Yes, you can.” Nie HuaiSang pointed out and brushed a cold cloth over his brother’s forehead. “You don’t want to.” - Wen Chao will notice I didn’t follow his orders.”

He took a moment longer to think of what to do next before making up his mind. It wasn’t going to end well, why wasn’t he scared? He should have.

“But there is someone who will heal him for sure.”

It took Nie HuaiSang a couple of hours and many sighs before finally agreeing with Wen Zhuliu reluctantly. Carrying him to Yiling unseen wasn’t as easy as they hoped. Wen Zhuliu tried to block out the soft whispers coming from the back of the carriage, the movement had probably woke Nie MingJue up, his voice rough and low, pained; his breath hard.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe. To someone who can heal you.”

Nie MingJue hummed lightly.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m dead already.”

“That’s not true, Da-ge. It’s the fever talking, and we both know you don’t control your mouth when ill.” He tried to sound light, almost joking, Wen Zhuliu imagined his smaller arms wrapping around his brother and holding him closer.

“ZongHui… Where’s ZongHui?”

He tried, he really tried not to listen.

“I’m sure he’s safe to. You told him to go ask for help, remember?”

“Lotus pier… yes. Ah! No… no, we can't leave Qinghe. If he comes back and doesn’t find us—”

Lotus Pier. Wen Chao talked about the place. It was their next target. Maybe he could get there before him. He could try.

“He will be fine, Da-ge. You need to think about healing first.” The carriage fell silent for the rest of the ride.

“Why?” Wen Qing simply asked. He looked at Wen Zhuliu, and then at the Nie brothers, the older one slumped unconscious on the younger.

“They’re wounded. And you’re the best medic in Qishan.”

“Is it some kind of trap? Take them here, bring Wen Chao - She snarled the name in hate. - here and have him destroy everything? Great plan. It’s not going to work.” She was starting to turn and shut the doors when Wen Ning's voice attracted her attention.

“Jie… I don’t like his fever.” Blood was trickling down his lips.

“He won’t come. I’ll make sure he won’t. Just… Just take them in. - It was risky. That would forever compromise his loyalty. Wen RuoHan will certainly kill him. - Heal them. Keep them safe.” And with that he turned on his heels and ran.

He ran and he flew to Lotus Pier hoping to be on time. Hoping to arrive before Wen Chao did, before ZongHui could explain and set off to reclaim Qinghe.

He was on time, by mere minutes.

“They’re not in Qinghe.” It wasn’t the usual greeting, it wasn’t too ideal either, not after years of not even seeing each other. “You’ll have to prove you’re one of them, Wen Qing is not the most trusty woman. But she’s a medic, and she’s trustworthy.”

“Why?” Why? Why what? “Why are you doing that? Suddenly, after bursting into our sect with that Wen dog. After calling yourself a Wen. Why should I believe you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He thought.

“Because you’re the one I would never lie to not even if I wanted to.”

Nie ZongHui had one of his sabers in hand, still pointing at him cautiously. Maybe that was the way to keep his life. To make things right. It was worth a try.

“Stab me. Make it look real and then run.”

“What?” He widened his eyes and almost let go of the saber.

“You heard me. Stab me. There.” He walked closer, the point of the blade touching his chosen point. Nie ZongHui tried to take a step back. “They will think the Jiang attacked me. They won’t even see you escape.”

“But— why?”

Wen—Zhao Zhuliu caressed the side of his head and pushed the blade ZongHui still held deep in his body giving him a bloody smile before falling.

“Go. Go now. Go, g—”

Nie ZongHui ran for the second time in days. He ran to Yiling like he instructed him, he found the door being knocked shut in his face three times before HuaiSang came out and finally convinced the Wen girl to let him in. His sword’s blade still wet with blood.

“Zhuliu? Wen Zhuliu!” He blinked his eyes open tiredly, he stopped the bleeding almost as soon as the blade slid out of his chest.

“It’s fine… I just need some rest. I’m— fine…” He closed his eyes again.

#wen zhuliu #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #nie zonghui #zonghui and zhuliu are brothers #enemy to caretaker #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs fic #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #fanfic #nanowrimo 2020 #angst collection in cultivation #aki writes

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queerlyhalloween · 4 years

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Not to sound like the joker™️ but i hate western society. I know that hair and clothes aren't gendered, so do most of my mates, ive been working hard at unlearning the internalized transphobia that's just a part of being trans in the UK and actually ALLOWING myself to think about going on hormones and dressing in ways other than "ambigious as possible" despite the fact im non-binary

i grew myself a little mullet because ive not been working in the pub and wanted solid snake hair, ive allowed myself to look at my face and the long hair around it and not despair because i know that longer hair doesn't make me a woman, but the moment you go into a shop, or get takeaway or pass by people in the street its all "move out the way of this lady!" and "thank you, ma'am"

i dont want the gender option of 'other' on my ID i want to know 1 good reason why gender should be listed on an ID in the 1st place

ive just come back from the range and i had my hair up like some e-thot fuckboy, i had to go BACK to the range because they got my click and collect order wrong so ive got two members of staff looking over my order, im dressed in black jeans and a black masc-looking ripped shirt, mask covering half my face and as the manager's showing the kid who served me the receipt they go "oh I served that guy earlier" and the manager corrects them "its a lady". I say "im niether" and they both just stare at me like im a toddler. Im already panicking because the air feels the same way it did when some cunt came after me in the pub toliets. "dont worry about it :)" i say, they both turn back to the tills and completely ignore me.

Anyway, micro-aggressions, ive experienced a lot of them for many reasons over the course of my life and today ive decided to snap.

Not at the people in the range like, just in general.

I will never pass. That's just an element of trans euphoria i will never get to experience. Not right off the bat, anyway. Not where i live, and most likely not in my lifetime. Maybe for kids in LA or Brighton, and hey power to you guys man im happy for you, but people assume or guess m/f when they look at me and they will never get it right.

So when i see people on this site try and twitter etc rank "who's the most oppressed"™️ like a godamn smash bros tier list it blows my mind because of all the things you could spend your days doing thats what youre expending energy on?!

You could be the exact same age, race, sex, gender, sexuality, you could have the exact same disabilities, mental health conditions and money in your bank as another person on this site and you'd still never understand what they've been through. Our experiences, our families, our morals and lives are always gonna be different and the moment you try to write definitive rules on whose got it worse you've already lost and you're already wrong. Oppressed classes are not a fucking hivemind and pretending they are is only going to cause you more problems. I get the strong sense that some of you looked at the word intersectionality, went "ah yeah, i know what that means" having never read up on the matter, then proceeded to play the pain olympics.

And its creating a culture where kids feel the need to spills their souls online to justify living their lives!

You've not listed your disabilites in your bio so you're able-bodied. You're Irish but haven't listed your race so you're white. You're cis man so you've never played with gender and suffered as a result. You're asexual so clearly you're a cringeworthy baby who's never experienced a wrong-doing in their life.

The reverse is true too, if you list every aspect of yourself then you're automatically honest. The more opressed you are the less likely you are of causing harm to others. Psht, don't have a carrd in this day and age? What are you, a fraud? cishet white man playing make believe? Post a selfie or face the wrath of ozymandaus. What's privacy? It takes me 3 minutes to read the bio on this discourse side-blog so clearly they're an angel.

my mam abused me for years, she did the same to my brother when i left home at 18 and my dad drank himself to death. My nan, his mother, never believed me because my mam's a disabled woman with a lot of trauma, and at 14 how do you explain to the woman who takes you to the beach that it's WORSE because as she's beckoning you to the side of her bed so she can scream point blank in your face, or hit you, you're never truely sure, you're thinking about running away because of course she physically can't chase you but she can throw. And then where would you go if you did buggar off?

"You have to sleep sometimes" she used to say to me when I'd piss her off. Other days she told me horror stories about kids in care, and disabled people having their kids taken away, made me promise that I'd always love her and always be her baby, and I'd do that for her because she's my mam, she'd be satisfied then ignore me for a while. I grew up thinking that was entirely normal until i'd tell funny family stories at school and nobody would laugh. The closest I got to truely running away was when I changed my name and pronouns and her rejection, turned to vitriol one night and I so, so, nearly held a knife to my throat and simply fell forwards in the uni showers. Obviously I didn't do that.

But she's had a shitter life than me thus far so she's in the right, as the online black/white dichotomy states. I keep her at arm's length but I'm unable to cut her away without losing the rest of my family because I dared defy the role of eldest child and care for her as I've done my whole life, as is expected.

we need to take things on a case by case basis, and learn when stuff is none of our business.

"Hey! :) I see you've reclaimed (X) slur, without submitting the proper paperwork. Real quick tell me every trauma you've ever experienced or I'll write a callout post :) delete this anonymous message (as is your right) and i'll assume you as sus ❤"

you can only call yourself a dyke if on your 13th birthday, the moon's tender rays struck you through your bedroom window and gave you your first wet dream about girls.

Great, cool. I have no interest in calling myself a dyke, i cant call myself a lesbian because it makes me dysphoric, thats why im queer, but i can assure you that when 3 kids from catholic school pinned me under the bridge and threatened to cut me open for being a "dirty dyke tramp" they didn't play 20Qs with me first to check that i was actually a lesbian.

if your first thought is "well thats just misdirected homophobia, so youre not ACTUALLY a victim" log the fuck off and consider what's wrong with you. Because all our oppressors care about is sniffing out the wrong on you and beating it out, they dont care what breed of wrong it is.

so you're going to spend your day, the enlightened adult that you are, frothing at the mouth because some 15yr old dared call themselves butch despite them being OnLY a BiSexUAl? You're gonna say that trans woman deserves to be suicidal because yes she may be trans BUT she's from the UK, so clearly she loves her horrid country and government. You're gonna say that black lad deserves racial abuse because he's trying to focus on his studies rather than go to protests. That 19yr old who's living in poverty deserves it because they work for Amazon. Texans deserve to freeze to death because there are republicans in Texas.

You're going to harass a complete stranger coming to terms with the parts of themselves society has taught them are worthless at best because they're not doing it the way YOU think is right.

This post has not ended where I started it but I really dont care:

Some of you are so fucking desperate to be the bullies you never got to be in secondary school and it shows. But you're cowards. You can't just admit you want to divide and concur so you do it in a new woke way and when your time on this earth is done, you'll have commited the same pain that's been dealt to you and wonder why you died miserable in a world thats more or less the same.

okay to reblog but dont @ me for a debate because i have, like, real problems and will just block you

#tw suicide mention #child abuse #homophobia #transphobia #ablesim #racism #*muffled screaming*#im shit at tagging sorry if i missed anything but im out i think

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anistarrose · 5 years

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The Liching Hour (TAZ Balance AU)

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/22963831

Summary: Taako is a lich, but he doesn’t die alongside Barry when his memories start to fade. In fact, he doesn’t die for another whole decade… until he arrives in Refuge, and first hears the clock strike noon.

Characters: Taako, Lup, Barry Bluejeans, Kravitz, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch

Relationships: Lup & Taako, Kravitz/Taako, Barry Bluejeans/Lup

Additional tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Major Character Undeath, Angst with a Happy Ending, relationships listed in order of focus

“Taako is a lich too” is definitely an AU that’s been done before, but I couldn’t resist giving it my own unique twist! I actually started writing this fic exactly eleven months ago, when I was still fairly new to TAZ, but I forgot all about it until a few weeks ago when I came back to dust it off and finish the last few scenes.

(if you want an accompanying soundtrack for this fic, then I strongly recommend Lifetime Achievement Award by Lemon Demon! the song has big lich energy)

***

The set of planar systems traversed by our IPRE was indescribably vast, but far from the only one of its kind. Over eons, countless other universes are forged and then left to their own devices by elusory, non-interventionist creators — and in more than one of those universes, a ship called the Starblaster takes flight, propelled between planar systems by the strength of the bonds between its crew. In more than one of those universes, members of the IPRE put enough faith in those bonds to undertake a great risk — fusing their life forces with their magic and becoming liches, constructing a failsafe to protect their family from the Hunger that pursues them.

In one of those universes, Taako joins Lup and Barry in taking that risk. The ceremony goes as smoothly as the transformation into a lich can go, and the three of are all able to hold themselves together, thanks to their love for each other and their crewmates...

But when Lucretia feeds her records of their journey to the Voidfish, when Lup is already trapped in the Umbra Staff and Barry cleverly cheats amnesia by falling to his death off the deck of the Starblaster, Taako stays in his living form. Being undead isn’t the first thing he forgets — no, it’s Lup that he loses first, for Taako’s bonds with his twin are more carefully documented in Lucretia’s journals than anything else he’s done or cared about over the century — but the second that awareness of lichdom vanishes from his mind, the second he forgets the safety net he has in place in case of death, a self-preservation instinct kicks in again after nearly two decades of lying dormant. No need to go charging into uncharted and potentially deadly territory — Taako’s good out here.

For over a decade, he avoids death, and he never remembers what happens to him when he dies. Sometimes animals will shy away from him for no apparent reason, and maybe that faint burning sensation that fills his chest whenever Merle channels Pan to cast a healing spell on him is a little weird — but there’s no dogs on the moon and Merle hardly ever casts healing spells in the first place, so Taako just... tries to forget about it when he can, and convince himself it’s normal when he can’t.

He has a vague suspicion that he hasn’t been like this forever, but he can’t remember a clear date of onset for these symptoms, so he just brushes them off and keeps them to himself. It’s no one’s else’s business, anyways.

Or so he thinks, until he meets the Grim Reaper one fateful Candlenights.

***

There are two presents left under the shrub, both in similar silver-wrapped boxes — but one is addressed to all three Reclaimers, and the other is specifically labeled for Taako. Neither indicates the name of the sender.

Magnus and Merle don’t even attempt to hide the jealousy in their stares as they watch Taako pick up his gift, but something compels them to all stay silent and open the boxes as subtly as possibly while the Director makes conversation with Johann on the other side of the room. There’s nothing inherently suspicious about them other than the lack of a “from” name, though the handwriting on the tags is extremely familiar, but Taako still positions his arm to shield the box from the view of the others before he opens it and sees the contents…

The interior is plush purple velvet, cushioning two items: a coin and a note. The coin is golden and about as big as the circle made by Taako’s index finger and thumb when curled to meet at the tip, and it’s engraved with runes he doesn’t recognize — but he can read the accompanying note, though he has no idea what to make of what it says.

Keep this to yourself. If you ever encounter a situation in which you need it, you’ll know what to do with it when the time comes.

A quick use of Detect Magic reveals that the box and note are completely mundane, but the coin is enchanted. Nothing feels inherently volatile or dangerous about the complex divination spell it’s imbued with, but it still gives Taako a sinking feeling, like it’s something he should be forbidden from possessing.

So he casually slips the coin into his pocket and pops the note into his mouth, chewing and swallowing as he peers over Merle’s shoulder to examine the other gift — an identical box, this one holding three circular blue patches with twelve smaller circles embroidered around the circumference and an unreadable acronym word lying in the center. There’s another accompanying note here too, this one simply reading: “For your eyes only.”

Then, three different noises happen in very quick succession: Magnus turns to Taako and whispers “What was in yours?” and a second later, the Director echoes “What is that? What did you guys get?”

But before any of the boys can blurt out some lie despite not knowing why they feel so compelled to hide the gifts, the Director’s necklace unexpectedly interrupts the conversation, glowing faintly as a staticy, panicked voice yells “Lucretia!” The Director instantly whirls away from the boys, angrily whispering into her pendant which replies with words that are hard to make out from a distance.

Almost on reflex, Taako slips one of the patches into the same pocket as the coin and disposes of the second note with the same method he’d used for the first, cleansing his palate with an elderflower macaron immediately afterwards. He doesn’t think about the patches or the coin for a long time after that — but then again, he ends up getting distracted by a lot over the course of the next few hours. With the impeding crystal apocalypse, and the floating lab, and the death crimes and all.

***

“Well, that’s weird,” Noelle says. Her satellite dish is blinking green as it rotates, scanning the perimeter of the Cosmoscope two, three, four times. “At first, I thought it musta just been interference, but… one of you guys isn’t a lich, are you?”

“A what?” Magnus asks.

“A lich. The signal was real faint at first, but it just got stronger, and now it’s fluctuating a whole lot…”

“Nope, not me!” Magnus declares, with surprising confidence considering that he doesn’t appear to have any understanding of what being a lich means.

“Well, not that I’m aware of,” Taako answers slowly. “But I think even ya boy here would know if he was a lich. Right?”

“I’m friends with a few liches!” Merle adds. “They’re fun at parties.”

Noelle sighs at Merle’s comment, and then continues: “Yeah, Taako, I guess you’d hafta know if you were one. Guess my scanner’s just on the fritz.”

***

“Now Taako, Taako, Taako,” Kravitz mutters from within the sapphire mirror, and the pure exasperation on his face is almost adorable. “Care to take a guess what your bounty is for? I would really hope that you, at least, would know.”

Taako has a feeling he’s been saved for last because his crimes are the worst, but he’s got no clue why — there’s no way he’s died more than fifty-seven times, right?

“I dunno, is it about that tentacle thing? 'Cause don’t worry, my dude, this is a safe and non-judgmental environment where you don’t need to be afraid of being yourself —”

Kravitz's eyebrows raise and he looks aghast for a moment, but recovers quickly. “Taako, you've died twelve times — but alone, that makes you practically a law abiding citizen, compared to the company you keep! I never thought I’d see the day that I’d thought Magnus, with his 19 deaths, would be the least of the evils present, but — but —”

He sputters. “But you three all seem determined to make your crimes as unprecedented as possible —”

“Unprecedented, that’s me!” Taako laughs, and tries to ignore the half static-drowned screams of all his instincts, telling him to run as far away from Kravitz or any portal to the Astral Plane as he can get. “But uh, what is the deal with my bounty if —”

“Playing dumb about dying is one thing,” Kravitz growls, “but you’re really playing dumb about being a lich?”

“But I am dumb,” Taako blurts out, before the accusation really sinks in. “I’m just a humble idiot wizard!”

Kravitz bursts into bitter laughter. “An idiot necromancer, more like. Do you really —”

“There’s no way,” Magnus cuts in. “If Taako was a lich, we would have to know!”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you would, given how long the three of you have been cheating death together!” Kravitz replies.

“Okay, first of all — how do you know we’ve actually been cheating death for that long?” interrupts Merle. “We could’ve just died all those times in the span of, I don’t know, a month or two! We’re really incompetent.”

Magnus and Taako nod in enthusiastic agreement as Kravitz sighs.

“And second of all?”

“Uh... I forgot what I was going to say second.”

“Of course you did! What won’t you three conveniently forget — GAH!”

A giant skeletal hand reaches out of the Eternal Stockade and grabs Kravitz by the robe, dragging him inside the Eternal Stockade. It slams the door of the prison with a force that Taako winces at, all the way on the other side of the sapphire mirror.

“Did we solve the lich puzzle?” Merle asks. “Are we free to go?”

“Gonna be honest — just personally, I’m not too worried about the lich puzzle!” Taako shouts back, as a high-pitched hum emanates from the crystals around them and the room begins to shake. “Mostly just thinking about how much I don’t want to remember what dying feels like!”

“You know, that’s fair,” Merle agrees as he watches a complete skeleton materialize behind the hand, wading through the Astral Sea and towards the mirror. “That’s pretty fair.”

***

“Look, you saved my bacon back there,” Kravitz tells them after Legion is defeated. “Not just my career, but the world too. Things would have gotten very, very nasty, in a way that I wouldn’t have exactly wanted to put on my résumé…”

He sighs. “And Merle, Magnus… I would be willing to let you off with a warning, because you’ve technically never escaped the Astral Plane, and that leaves a convenient little loophole in the law for you two to slip through. Even Lucas — he’s learned his lesson with necromancy, it looks like. But Maureen, Noelle, and especially you, Taako — you’re all going to have to come with me. I can’t make exceptions for those of you who have succeeded in a jailbreak — nor can I do so for a lich.”

This time, he doesn’t spit the word lich with any of the disgust or outrage that were in his voice before, but rather speaks slowly and solemnly — and if Taako didn’t know better, he might think Kravitz actually felt bad about having to lock him up.

“Look, Ghost Rider.” Taako’s heart is racing just a little bit faster than he’s comfortable with, and the worst part is he doesn’t know why. It’s tempting to blame it on the slight crush may or may not be developing, but his crushes — although few and far-between — definitely never send his pulse up this fast this early in the relationship.

“You seem like an okay fellow who’s just trying to do your job, so I’ll be honest with you — I can’t remember ever touching necromancy with a ten-foot pole. Look, I used to make my living as a chef, and when you’re cooking the last thing you want is your meal coming back to life in front of you. I’ve got no motive!”

“Does your book with the bounties say anything else about the charges against him?” Magnus asks. “The charges against any of us, actually?”

“Not a single thing, I’m afraid. The bar’s not very high, but you are some of the… less unsavory bounties I’ve hunted, which is why I genuinely hate to say this, but —”

“Oh, so it’s savory you like? Let me take you out for an evening at Taako’s Bar and Café, and I’ll cook you up as many savory dishes as you like —”

“The — the bar,” Kravitz stammers, slipping out of his Cockney accent, “is so not high —”

“He just wants to help you broaden your horizons!” Merle chimes in. “You must not get out of the — the, uh, whatever your plane is called very often, do you?”

Kravitz sighs. “It’s the Astral Plane, and — and look, we just… we need to get going, alright? Taako, I… I could give you the benefit of the doubt, I suppose, and let you stay here until you die and return to your lich form, but I still need those two souls in the robots to come with me —”

“Wait!” Magnus interrupts. “Gambling with death is a trope for a reason, right? Can we play cards for their souls?”

Kravitz shrugs. “You know what? Sure! This day can’t get any wilder!”

***

Boyland’s rites of remembrance aren’t until tomorrow, but Taako is down in the Voidfish’s chambers ahead of time, Umbra Staff clutched tight as he stares at the twinkling galaxy pattern within the jellyfish’s bell.

“Uh… do you need something?” Johann asks after Taako’s stands there silently for about a minute.

Taako twirls his umbrella and shifts it from hand to hand, half expecting it to fire on its own again like it had when talking to Angus, but it stays dormant.

“Can your jellyfish pal, like… I dunno, choose what it innoculates you for?”

“Uh… no? At least, I think we woulda noticed if it could… why are you asking?”

“I was bored.” Taako turns to leave, but before he can get back in the elevator, he hears the Voidfish sing a short tune — not quite as loud as when Magnus had touched its tank, but definitely the same three notes.

***

Taako dies a few times in Refuge before he notices anything weird about it — well, not that dying and being revived continuously isn’t weird albeit familiar, but at first he’s just immediately whisked off to the white space alongside Merle and Magnus. No special treatment for him — until the first time that they die before the hour ends, and everything starts unraveling.

Magnus leans away from locker as he opens it, but it proves to be a futile precaution as the sound of an explosion blows out their eardrums and shockwaves tear through the room, sending the floor beneath their feet blasting towards the ceiling at the same time that massive boulders rain down from above, crushing the cave’s occupants before there’s even a chance process what happened.

As the dust settles and the roar of the explosives and falling rocks dies out, Taako blinks — except it feels strange, like it’s not his physical eyelids moving as much as it is his vision shifting into another spectrum, as if someone had just cast True Seeing on him.

Huh, he thinks. Thought that would’ve killed me.

And then: Of course it killed me. I’m a lich.

(Well, there goes any chance I had with Kravitz —)

I’m a lich like the Red Robe — no, like Barry. And like —

Like Lup.

How could I forget Lup?!

The sensation of incorporeality hits him on a delay and doesn’t stop hitting him, harder and harder until he feels like he’s about to disintegrate. His red-tinged skeletal hand drifts through the air, catching the silver threads that hang lazily like cobwebs in the space all around him as his spectral fingers curl into a fist. He clutches those bonds with every ounce of strength he has but they’re unraveling now, just like his robe, like his magically deformed essence…

He’s ready to disintegrate, to unravel, to crumble into ash just like Lup’s skeleton in Wave Echo Cave, because of course it was her, it was all that was left of her —

I found her but she was gone — everything was gone, except for her robe and —

“Taako?”

Lying just a few feet away from the hem of his robe is Lup’s Umbra Staff, pulverized into a dozen smoldering fragments — and above it floats another red-cloaked figure, eyes blazing red like miniature versions of the explosion that freed her.

“Taako, I’m here!” she assures him, and her echoing voice is a chorus of too many simultaneous emotions to count — it’s worried, and desperate, but joyous and relieved and comforting all at once. “Don’t break down on me now, Taako! It’s okay!”

Something solidifies in Taako, a grounding sensation so powerful he feels almost corporeal again, but words are failing him, motion is failing him. He stays frozen as the bonds he’d clung to wind back into place, stretching from his arms to Lup’s and pulling them together into the closest thing to a hug that liches can achieve, and he feels warm.

“You idiot,” he finally chokes out. “You didn’t think that absorbing magic shit would make a bad combo with being a fucking lich?”

Lup is literally beaming with happiness, emitting beams of light that would blind someone with physical eyes. “You didn’t exactly realize either, you dingus!”

They stay in the embrace for a few more minutes — and Taako may or may not let out an ugly, messy sob or two, complete with tears and snot made of pure magical energy that crackles like lightning when it strikes the rubble below — before he finally feels stable, and Lup quietly asks:

“How much time do we have? Forty minutes? Thirty-five?”

“What?” Her words don’t sink in immediately, but the second they do, Taako immediately feels like the victim of a sick joke. “Oh, shit. The Umbra Staff’s gonna get fixed next loop, and — and I’m not gonna remember you’re in there —”

“It’ll be okay,” Lup assures him. Taako can tell from the tone of her voice that she’s just as frustrated as he is with the irony of the paradox, except trying to redirect that anger into stubborn optimism. It’s a lifesaving skill for liches of their particular breed, that ability to channel destabilizing negative emotions into sustaining positive ones — a skill Taako hasn’t had much practice with, lately.

“There’s got to be some way to cheat the loops — you know, a loophole.” Lup laughs — a rasping, echoing noise that would probably be terrifying to anyone who didn’t know her, but is a massive relief for Taako to hear. “It’s practically in the name. We’ll figure something out — we always do. Let’s just think — and besides, I’m sure Magnus will get you blown up at least another two or three times, so we’ve technically got even more than forty minutes.”

“Right, right, okay. Physical objects are a no-go, Magnus figured that out after his bank robbing stunt —”

“Yeah, I think I caught that. So we’ll have to try something magical —”

“Wait.” A thousand different realizations are slowly coalescing together all at once in Taako’s mind, and he struggles to find words to articulate any of them. “How much could you, like — how much could you see from in there? You helped me out fighting the vine monster, right, and — and ruined Ango’s cookies, so… you musta been pretty aware to do all that —”

Lup looks down at the remains of the Umbra Staff, now reduced to mostly ash.

“I could see and do plenty, if I put enough effort into it,” she explains, “but it wore me out quickly, especially casting spells. After I spelled my name, I was just… clinging to consciousness for the next few weeks. That stunt might not have been the best idea, since I’d figured out by then that you couldn’t remember, but… I had to try.”

“Did you see Barry, in… let’s see, Goldcliff and the Cosmoscope? He, uh… wasn’t doing so great that second time…”

“He’ll be able to hold it together,” Lup declares confidently. “He’s stubborn like that.”

“Do you think he realized… your situation? He was pretty stable until he saw you —”

“He would have done something about it by now if he’d known, though…”

“Yeah, of course, you’re right. But he definitely seemed like he had some kinda plan — wait, I think I got it! Where’s my body?”

“Wait, got what?”

Taako levitates a few boulders out of place, and summons two Mage Hands to rifle through the pockets of his corporeal form. “Our way out of this time paradox shit, courtesy of Barold himself! As long as it didn’t get crushed — ah, here we go!”

One of the Mage Hands procures a familiar golden coin, imbued with a divination spell of Barry’s own engineering that Taako finally recognizes. “Well, I guess I don’t know for sure that Barry sent it to me, but it’s his spell and came alongside some IPRE patches, so I’m gonna say it sure wasn’t from Lucretia.”

“Is that — is that the spell he made when Magnus was worrying about the Temporal Chalice overwriting things without us knowing?”

“Yeah, storing info across timelines is its whole gimmick! He knew we were going to go after the Chalice eventually, and musta realized that I would forget anything I did as a lich if a time loop like this revived me —”

“Gods, I love him!” Lup shouts, laughing and lighting up with joy all over again. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s send Amnesiac Taako a message!”

***

Taako faceplants in the dirt alongside Merle and Magnus, alive again and holding an unbroken Umbra Staff. As always, Roswell stands guard outside the gate, and Taako and Magnus immediately start running through their explanation.

“Great job, Maggie!” Merle mutters under his breath. “Now we’ve gotta go through this whole shebang again.”

“We’ll be able to make a great speedrun video on Fantasy Youtube by the end of it, though!” Taako whispers back, and Roswell tilts their bird head in confusion.

“What? What’s a speedrun?”

Taako opens his mouth to reply, but a slightly muffled yet incredibly familiar voice from within the pocket of his skirt beats him to it.

Yo, Taako! T to the double A-K-O! I’m you from half an hour ago now, so listen up!

“What the fuck?” he blurts out, digging out the coin. “That’s — that’s not me! I never said —”

I know you don’t remember recording this, but there’s something you’ve really gotta do, the coin goes on, still in Taako’s voice, and he drops it to the ground and stares at it in horror. It’ll make sense later — well, maybe a long time later. Eventually, I hope!

“I don’t trust you!” Taako shouts, not sure if he’s expecting the coin to respond or not. “I don’t know who’s behind this, but I know a trick when I hear —”

You need to break the Umbra Staff, Taako, a second speaker explains, and Taako goes stiff at the sound of her voice. And you need to break it again in every new cycle — or every loop, I should say, until you get out of here. Please, Taako, trust us. We’ll explain as soon as we can, I promise.

Magnus kneels on the ground and pokes the coin gingerly, as if expecting it to explode. “Taako, where did you get this? Do you know what triggered it to —”

Taako snaps the Umbra Staff with his bare hands, and a column of fire erupts around him.

As his vision turns into an orange blur, he can just barely hear Merle yelp in shock and Magnus shout in concern over the roar of the flames, but he doesn’t feel afraid — which is itself a deeply unsettling feeling, because he should really be terrified out of his mind — but he just can’t fear this fire no matter how hard he tries. The warmth of the flames that weave so deftly around him is not harsh, but rather, comforting — almost fiercely comforting, in a way Taako wasn’t prepared to be comforted, a way that makes his heart seize up just like the woman’s voice that he couldn’t help but trust.

The blaze consolidates into a spectral figure in red who floats in front of him and nods, face obscured by the cowl of her robe but a smile manifesting clearly in her voice nevertheless.

“Thank you so much, Taako. I knew you’d come through.”

Then Magnus swings Railsplitter through her — harmlessly, of course — and she turns to face him.

“What do you want from this town, Red Robe?” Magnus yells. “Why did you bring Jack and June here?”

“Magnus, calm down! Really, I should be asking you about Jack and —”

She pauses, noticing Magnus’s disoriented expression. “Shit, was that static? You know, that’s probably for the best. Let’s start over: Magnus, Merle, Taako, earth elemental who’s name I missed —”

“I’m Roswell. Could you please identify yourself?”

“Magnus, Merle, Taako, Roswell — but mostly you Tres Horny Bois, or whatever you call yourselves these days — first things first, I’m not the Red Robe you met before. Second and on a related note, yes, I’ve been in Taako’s umbrella this whole time. Yes, it sucked. And third…”

She sighs. “You’re just going to have to take my word on this one, but I literally can’t explain who I am or why I’m on your side. It might seriously damage your minds, but I should be able to tell you my name, which is Lup.”

“Lup, why do I trust you?” The name feels strange in Taako’s mouth — familiar, except it shouldn’t be, except it is, except it couldn’t be, except…

The contradiction just spirals on forever, boring a hole in his mind that aches like hell and makes his stomach churn.

“Taako — oh, Taako, you’re not thinking about it too hard, are you? You can’t think about it too hard — you see why I can’t try and explain anything else. I would if I could…”

Slowly, with help from Lup’s Mage Hand, Taako stands up. He can’t even remember when he fell to his knees, but… he tries not to think too hard about it. Just take things one step at a time.

“Lup can help get us out of here,” he tells Magnus and Merle. “I don’t know why, but I’d trust her with my life even outside of a time loop, so… we’re doing what she says now.”

Magnus shrugged. “You know, I guess we could do a lot worse than putting a competent woman in charge, even if she’s undead. Lup, whatever your plan is, I’m down for it.”

***

By the time the purple worm dives back down beneath the earth with her children, Taako’s just about ready to collapse. Physically, he’s uninjured — he had a lich and an earth elemental watching his back, after all — but mentally, he’s a wreck. The persistent roar of static in the back of his mind has taken its toll, especially since the loop where he died before anyone else, and woke up to find Magnus and Merle giving him the two most confused and concerned looks he’d ever seen on their faces.

So when Avi freezes, glowing red, and everyone’s Stones of Farspeech go dark, Taako barely has the energy to wonder why until another robed figure materializes, holding a finger to his lips —

“DID YOU RETRIEVE THE…”

Every fold of fabric freezes in place, as lightning washes over the Red Robe’s form.

“LUP?!”

“Hey, babe,” Lup whispers, unfazed by the lightning bolts as she floats forward to wrap her arms around the other lich. “Thanks for the coin.”

“But — but how?” the Red Robe stammers. “How are you finally —”

Several curls of hair, made up of ghostly orange fire, escape from under Lup’s hood as she explains, and the Red Robe gently twirls a coil of flames around one of his skeletal fingers. “How are you really here?”

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Lup explains, “but it turns out that magic-absorbing staffs and beings made of pure magic aren’t actually the best combo.”

“Oh my god, we’re idiots,” the Red Robe gasps. “We’re magical undead idiots.”

“Love you too, Barry,” Lup murmurs.“God, I missed you so fucking much.”

“Wait, like Barry Bluejeans?” Magnus asks, at exactly the same time that Taako mutters: “Ugh, get a room.”

Barry whispers something to Lup that Taako doesn’t catch, and then both liches turn around.

“So, slight change of plans,” Lup announces. “It looks like the bubble isn’t quite down yet, but once we get that taken care of… anyone else up for a moonbase infiltration?”

“I’ve got one condition,” Taako immediately announces.

“What’s up?”

“If we run into the Grim Reaper, neither of you crimson lovebirds know me.”

#taz #taz balance #taako taaco #lup taaco #kravitz taz #taakitz #barry bluejeans #blupjeans #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #taz balance spoilers #rosalia writes fic

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legolaslovely · 5 years

Text

Pranking the Princes

A/N: HAPPY FILI FRIDAY IF YOU HEAR SCREAMING IN THE DISTANCE ITS ME FROM NYC!!!!!!!! Here you go, because I’m a sucker for some sweet Fi! Hope you guys and enjoy, this was a fun one to write. Sweet with some steam!

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Word Count: 1,888

Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut

Summary: (Y/N) overhears Fili telling Kili about his feelings for her.

You were sat on the ground next to Kili, slurping what was left of your salty soup when Fili called to his brother.

“What? I’m eating, Fi.”

“Will you just come ‘ere?”

You laughed as Kili pushed himself off the ground with a groan. He threatened you, telling you not to touch his soup until he returned. You rolled your eyes, setting your empty bowl on the ground and leaning back, laying with your arms tucked under your head. You jumped in fright when Thorin yelled to his nephews from beside you.

“Where are you two up to?”

You looked to them, cracking a smile at their expressions. They were frozen in step with wide eyes like they’d been caught red handed. They shared a look.

“Uh, we were just going…” Kili started.

“To, uh… to bathe. In the river. Kili smells,” Fili said.

Kili smacked his brother’s shoulder.

“He’s not wrong,” you mumbled.

Thorin stared at them for a silent moment. “Don’t be long. There’s no moon tonight and the clouds are covering the stars. You’ll have no guidance.”

“We won’t be long,” Fili said, shoving his brother into the wood.

You scurried, sitting up and cleaning out your bowl and stowing it in your pack. This was your chance to get back at the boys for their tricks. You crept away from the company, moving to follow them to the river. You’d steal their clothes while they were bathing, leaving them to find their way back—

“(Y/N), where are you going?”

You spun to face Thorin. He gave you the same suspicious but entertained look he gave his nephews.

You pointed ahead through the wood. “Just going to… uh, to gather some… some-”

“You were going to play tricks on my nephews.”

Damn it. “Well, they deserve it-”

“Yes, they do. Leave your cloak here, the latch makes a clinking sound that will give you away.” He smirked and returned to his place before the fire.

You chuckled, discarding your cloak and heading into the wood after the princes.

You easily found the river, not needing to search for their tracks in the wet soil. You slowed to a crawl, sneaking through the wood from tree to tree, bush to bush, so the boys wouldn’t see you. It had grown just dark enough for you to hide in the shadows but the low twilight made the river glisten. You didn’t pay much attention to their conversation, you were too busy searching the rocks on the shore for what you came for. Bingo! The silly princes left their clothes within your reach.

You swiftly and silently gathered their belongings and stepped back into the wood. You cringed when a twig snapped underfoot.

“(Y/N)?”

Damn it! You’d been caught! You hid behind the nearest tree, planning an escape. You could still pull your trick on them if you ran away with their things. They’d still have to chase you back to camp. You looked at the water over your shoulder. Fili and Kili were still calmly conversing in the soft waves. They hadn’t realized you were there. But they were talking about you? You closed your eyes and tilted your head trying to listen. Water splashed loudly.

“Don’t yell! Mahal, Kili, I brought you all the way out here so no one else would know. The entire company probably heard you!”

“I’m sorry! I’m just surprised. I had no idea you had feelings for (Y/N).”

“More than just feelings, brother.”

“What do you mean? You mean you love her?”

There was silence. You guessed Fili was either nodding or shaking his head. But which one? You dropped the clothes and turned into the tree, poking your head around it just enough to get a look at Fili. You’d missed his answer.

“Oh,” Kili said.

Oh, what? You screamed in your head. Oh, he loved you? Or oh, no, he’ll get over it, it’s nothing. You stared at him, looking for an answer. His hand pushed the water with spread fingers causing it to slosh gently around his waist, leaving droplets around his smooth skin. You flushed fiercely, feeling like an intruder. But you couldn’t leave now, they’d surely see you. And you needed to know the truth.

“Will you do anything about it?” Kili asked.

Fili shrugged his strong shoulders. “I don’t know if I can. That’s why I brought you out here. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? How would we go on?”

“What if she does feel the same way?”

He sighed, splashing the water onto the shore with an exasperated flick. “Even then, we have months of journeying left and we all have to be on our guard. I don’t need to give her another distraction.” He sunk into the water, leaning his head back into the ripples to wet his hair. His thick neck stretched, revealing more of the muscle and long tendons there. He floated on his back. “Then when we reclaim the mountain, there will be so much work to do. How can I ask her to give up her whole life and… I mean, I’m the heir… Mahal, Ki, I think about her all the time.”

“All the time?” Kili asked. His voice lilted.

Fili hummed, missing his brother’s suggestion.

“Like last night when you ran off into the woods alone? Got some relief from those thoughts?”

Fili stood and splashed him harshly. “Cut it out.”

Kili threw his hands up. “I don’t blame you, brother. She’s beautiful.”

Fili splashed his face now without mercy. “It’s not like that. That’s not—that’s not all of it. Don’t talk about her that way.”

“All right, all right,” Kili said, wiping his face. “But in all seriousness, (Y/N)’s our friend. Our good friend, Fi. Don’t you hurt her or I’ll kill you myself.”

“I would never hurt her.”

Their conversation had clearly come to an end. You leaned against the tree and allowed the smile that had been pulling at your lips to finally spread across your face. You slid back further into concealment and covered your beaming face with hot hands. You were not supposed to hear their entire conversation, but you especially should not have witnessed that last part. But you were kind of glad you did. Last night, you had wondered where Fili ran off to and now that you knew… the whole thing sent heat into your stomach.

“Fi.”

“Yeah?”

“Where are our clothes?”

“Right where we… they were on the rocks. Where are they?”

You heard them rush out of the water and onto the shore. You stood behind the tree as silent as a ghost, hoping they’d go back to the camp. Their footsteps grew closer and you rounded the tree to stay out of sight but you tripped on a root. You caught yourself, but Fili didn’t miss the sound of your boot scraping against the bark.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?”

You flushed. You didn’t know where to look. You couldn’t look him in the eye and lie to him, but you couldn’t exactly look anywhere else now that he was stark naked and dripping. Oh, that’s right. His clothes. You held his trousers out to him and watched the blood flow to his neck, cheeks, and ears.

As you stared at Fili you felt Kili’s hands on yours. “I’m just going to take these and go back to camp. I’ll, uh, leave you to… leave you two to it.” He took his things, quickly dressed and disappeared, all while your eyes were glued to Fili’s.

Then he cleared his throat and backed away until he was on the other side of the tree. You rambled as he slid into his trousers.

“I, uh, I wanted to get you guys back for the prank you pulled the other day. So I- but I didn’t really do it right. You guys were too quick,” you laughed, trying to lighten things. “Should have known you can’t out-prank the princes.”

He hummed, circling the tree until he stood before you. His long, soaked locks dripped onto his bare chest. “Do you have my tunic?”

You looked down at your empty hands. “No. I guess… Kili may have taken it with him by accident.”

He nodded and bent over to wring out his hair. As he wiped his wet hands on his trousers, he asked, “What made you hide behind the tree? You could have just run away.”

“I thought of that but Kili’s faster than me.”

He hummed again, unconvinced. “You heard us talking.”

“N-no.”

“Liar.” He was smirking at you.

You leaned back against the tree and sighed. You felt so ashamed. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” you said. “Really, I came to trick you guys and I thought you caught me.”

“You heard the whole thing?” He winced, running his hand over the back of his neck.

“I’m so sorry. I should have come out—let you know I was there.”

“No, it’s okay. You deserve to know. I know I’ve been acting weird with you lately.”

You went to look at the ground but your eyes stopped at the lacing of his trousers. It wasn’t done all the way. You turned your head to the river and prayed you weren’t as red as you thought you were.

“I just wish you didn’t find out by hearing us talk about you that way. We shouldn’t have been thinking about you- we didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

Now you were sure you were as red as a tomato. You pushed your hair behind your ear though it hadn’t fallen out of place. “I know that.”

“Because I do respect you, (Y/N).” One of his hands reached for your waist. The clouds had cleared and his blue eyes shone in the low starlight.

“Did you mean all you said?”

“Of course.”

You let out a held breath and couldn’t help grinning.

“Woah. I haven’t seen a smile that bright since I gave you that dagger on your name day,” he chuckled and smoothed your hair. He always did that but now it held new significance. “Does that mean we’re okay?”

“We’re fine, Fili. I… you’re not alone in your feelings. I, ya know, I respect you too and have had feelings for a while but… and like you said, there’s a lot going on right now. I can’t- I really can’t concentrate enough to talk about this when you don’t ha-have your clothes on.”

He laughed and stared at where his hands met your waist. “Then we will discuss it later when I have my tunic back.” He shook his head and you listened to the laughter that bubbled from his chest again.

“Well, don’t get cocky about it.”

“What? You’re allowed to know how much I think about you but I can’t revel a bit in how I throw ya for a loop after a bath in the river?”

You rolled your eyes and scooted around him, heading for the camp.

“Where are you going?”

You pointed behind you. “I thought we were going to get you a shirt so we could talk about this.”

He held you. “We will. But for right now…” He kissed you. His incredible warmth surrounded you and in that moment you decided you’d never let him out of your reach.

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