#poked at it intermittently for a long time

[treemaidengeek]

Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn  Additional Tags: Qíshān Wēn Indoctrination; Xuánwǔ of Slaughter Cave; Canon Compliant; POV Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī; Jiang Cheng; &etc from Wen Indoctrination; Traumatized Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī; he was just brutally abducted from the burning destruction of Gusu; he doesn't know if his family is alive; and now he's imprisoned at The Worst summer camp; Hurt/Comfort; Angst and Feels; Wei Wuxian is a chaos gremlin; Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Has Feelings; Hurt Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī; torture as portrayed within these canonical arcs

  Summary:

Usually there is a bit of plain bread and water. Some days I see no one at all and receive no food. Some days Wen Chao or an underling stands outside my locked door with a plate of some highly aromatic dish, asking question after question while I silently meditate and the meal grows cold.

Twice they beat me, hoping to gain by brute force what they cannot by threats and cajoling. There has, of course, been no medical treatment for my broken leg or the new bruises.

I can tell Wen Chao and his men grow frustrated that they can force neither word nor reaction from me. It is a consolation. I will not give them the satisfaction. They can beat me, starve me, mock and isolate me. As long as I maintain my dignity I'm winning. As long as I uphold the honor & principles of my clan, Gusu is not lost. I will not give them the satisfaction.

  (The events of the Wen Indoctrination and Xuanwu Cave, retold through Lan Wangji's traumatized eyes.)

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: cuddling with zb1

a/n: anon this is such a good request thank you also it’s so hard to describe like how people work

notes: yujin is not included due to his age!

wc | 2.1k

jiwoong

big strong warm man

what i mean is jiwoong is the perfect surface to lay on

i think he’s the type of guy to enjoy cuddling but he also doesn’t like need to be cuddling you at all times during your downtime

like it’s not a need yk

and he won’t ask to cuddle (so if you want to and he’s not thinking about it you’re gonna have to ask)

but he’s the type of guy to like … yawn as an excuse to put his arm around you LOL

jiwoong’s ideal cuddling spot is on the couch while you watch tv/a movie

he appreciates it when you lay on him. you’re like his personal and unique weighted blanket

he’ll be sprawled out on the couch and you’ll be on top of him, head on his chest

he will put his arms around your waist and will intermittently poke your sides like he’s checking to make sure you’re real

if you lay there for too long he will kick you off when he feels his arms starting to go numb lol

at night, i don’t think he’s the guy to full on cuddle

i think maybe he’ll put an arm on your waist but that’s it

he doesn’t like your icicle hands jolting him awake at 3 am LOL

if he’s sick he will attach himself to you though … he will also apologize for making you sick afterwards

cuddle rating: 8/10, minus two points for always making you ask

zhang hao

hao is a princess and he likes to sit on your lap

i won’t let anybody tell me otherwise he will actively just sit on you

doesn’t matter what you’re doing or where you are he will just sit on you

it’s kinda like the opposite of jiwoong … hao loves to lay on you except he’s (most likely) taller than you so it’s awkward

sometimes you’ll be napping and he’ll scare you awake by literally collapsing on you

he likes cuddles a lot though so that’s not all he’s doing

i said this in another set of hcs i did but i think hao likes being the little spoon

again he’s a princess

but also i think he just likes the feeling? like he feels comforted in your embrace so he wants you to just hug him all the time

he also strikes me as the type of person who gets cold easily so it warms him up too

on rare occasions, he will be the big spoon but it’s usually when you’re feeling bad and it’s making him sad

hao’s ideal cuddling spot is anywhere but he does like the bed a bit more

cuddling with him is also very quiet and relaxing

there are a lot of kisses on the cheek, forehead, pretty much everywhere

overall very soft and fun time !! it’s very intimate and cute

cuddle rating: 9/10, minus 1 point for him telling you to suck it up when your legs go numb from him sitting on you for so long

hanbin

hanbin is sooo clingy

has to have a hand on you at all times so cuddling is regular

like hao, he will cuddle up to you anywhere at any time, it doesn’t matter if you’re alone or literally all of the boys are there

he’ll sit on your lap but also enjoys it when you sit on his

big spoon, little spoon, it doesn’t matter he is LOVING IT!!!

but i think hanbin prefers cuddling on the couch most

idk if anyone else thinks this but he’s so christmas-coded in my brain, so his ideal is sitting on the couch with the fireplace on and just enjoying each other’s company

he likes laying his head in your lap a lot, especially when you’re talking about your days together

because he can see every single move and every expression you make, so he can easily gauge whether you’re talking about something negative or positive

he will switch with you when you’re done talking, so your head will be on his lap as he tells you about everything you did that day

and he’ll play with your hair while he talks it’s very sweet

hanbin is also the type of guy to cuddle with you while you’re sleeping at night

he can’t sleep without you being there :( he’ll require a stuffed animal replacement when you’re gone

if i keep talking about this i’m going to collapse

cuddle rating: 13/10, plus 3 points for the way he nuzzles up to you at any moment he can

matthew

matthew falls asleep every time you cuddle

it’s so bad

you’ll literally just be leaning on him while you sit on the couch, you’ll look up at him, and he’ll be fast asleep

as a result cuddling with matthew can be very uncomfortable because he’s just like asleep on you

i think his favorite thing to do his like … how do i explain this … i couldn’t figure it out so here’s a link to renjun and chenle doing what i'm thinking of

it’s the easiest way for him to conk out and also not cause you to get the worst cramp of your life in your leg

in the rare moments you fall asleep on him it makes him giggle so much that he wakes you up

and then he falls asleep like 3 minutes later

thanks matthew

a lot of your matthew cuddling time comes from napping with him

i could talk about napping for hours but to keep it short it’s just very sweet

matthew is big and strong man and NOT!!! cute guy so he likes to be big spoon a lot

i mean a lot

more than being a strong man i just think matthew likes holding onto things idk

like he’d be content with a huge teddy bear but he prefers you instead … you know

cuddle rating: 8/10, minus 2 points for laughing at you when you fall asleep on him and minus 1 point for falling asleep on you right after, plus one point for being the absolute cutest

taerae

cuddling with taerae is so casual like that’s the only way i can put it

idk it’s like … you’ll be sitting on the couch holding hands

and then he’ll put an arm around you … and then you’ll put your head on his shoulder … and then his legs are on yours … and now you’re here idk

taerae also likes to sit on your lap

except it’s in the funny way where he’ll taerae sashay over and then kinda just perch himself there

arms around your neck and arms crossed

this is his excuse to be near you in front of other people … he makes it jokey so that he can then give you a kiss on the cheek and tell you how much he loves you

loser

i think when you cuddle with taerae seriously it’s mostly in bed

he takes big naps and drags you with him

you fall asleep and wake up in a human knot like 5 hours later

your leg is on top of his and he’s got an arm like laying over your face and you’ve got an arm over his waist

you feel kinda sweaty and gross too but taerae looks really cute so it’s okay

i also think taerae likes to cuddle when he’s not having the greatest day

he’ll just sit down with you and collapse on you, face in your neck and arms wrapped around your waist :(

i love taerae sooo much

cuddle rating: 8/10, minus 2 points for trapping you in a knot for an hour that one time because he wouldn’t wake up

ricky

don’t hate me but i don’t think ricky is a big cuddler

it’s not that he doesn’t like it it’s just not his favorite thing in the whole entire world

his idea of cuddling is like holding your hand LOL

if you’re big into cuddling or your love language is physical touch he’s going to suck up his opinions and cuddle you it’s just gonna be a bit awkward

like he will weirdly put an arm over your shoulder while you lay on him

it’s like being in middle school all over again

he will literally google “how to cuddle” and ask gyuvin for pointers

you’d think cuddling was an olympic sport like just hug ur s/o bro

so i don’t really have much to say on that but i have A LOT to say when it comes to skinship

ricky is a hand-on-your-waist enthusiast

idk it just fits there so perfectly … it’s like his arm was meant to be around your waist

no matter where u go that’s where it is

i also think ricky gives shockingly good hugs? idk they’re kinda hot LOL

he does the thing where he’ll greet you by hugging you with specifically one arm … can you guys envision this like i can

big back hug guy … and he will put his head on top of yours

god SWOON ricky is so UGHHGGHGH

cuddle rating: 5/10 stop asking gyuvin for pointers // hug rating: 10/10 how can u make a hug so attractive bro (i need to write ricky brother’s best friend)

gyuvin

HUMAN TEDDY BEAR!!!

lanky boys are meant to be cuddled i don’t make the rules

he’s just so easy to koala hug cause he’s so long

based on what we know about him i think gyuvin LOOVES to cuddle

specifically i think he likes to lay on your tummy

like you’ll be laying down normally and then he will come lay perpendicular to you so he can use ur tummy as a pillow

if you’re not lying down he will substitute for your chest, and he likes to convince himself he’s the reason your heart is beating that fast (it is beating at an absolutely average rate LMFAO)

his absolute favorite is when you put your head on his chest

it makes his heart flutter and gives him butterflies like he's a schoolgirl about to confess to her crush

you can literally hear his heart pounding when you do it

i think cuddle sessions between you and gyuvin are also gossip sessions

like he will unload every insane thing he’s heard recently onto you and expect you to do the same

when you’re gossiping he likes to lay face-to-face, and a lot of the time he will just put his hand on your face

or he will put his arm on your waist … or mess with your hair

you’ll be saying the most heinous shit about someone and he will be giggling bc he thinks you look pretty

and you do the same exact thing

when you sleep he encases you in an impossible-to-escape limb cage so good luck with that

cuddle rating: 10/10 get ready to hear exactly how that one guy in his math class cheated on his gf

gunwook

HUMAN TEDDY BEAR AGAIN!!!

i know this man is the cuddle CHAMPION like you take one look at him and you can tell he gives warm hugs

he’s also like a space heater so he’s automatically the number 1 person to be around

tbh it could be like 30°f and you wouldn’t need a blanket you’d just need to attach yourself to gunwook

he loooves cuddles soooo much this guy just thinks it’s so cute

he teehees like a teenage girl every time you do

gunwook’s ideal cuddle is you being fast asleep with your face in his chest and your arms around his waist

mostly because he can take these really cheesy selfies of you asleep on him like bro stand UP

but also because he can scroll on his phone and have something to do while he acts as your personal heater

also appreciates laying on top of you which is sometimes difficult because he’s generally larger than you

i also think he would enjoy it when you sit in between his legs and he can like … wrap his arm around you and put his head on your shoulder … does that make sense

when gunwook is sleeping he treats you like the pillow he talked abt in that one clip … so his leg is on you and his chin is on your head etc

it’s cute

sometimes you can’t breathe tho

cuddle rating: 10/10 equal to gyuvin but unique in his own ways. go to the store and get yourself a gunwook

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

[wyvernest]

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart. 

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel. 

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar. 

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy." 

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. 

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken. 

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

[loaksky]

— 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 | ii

the lowdown — the one where you make neteyam's heart skip a beat.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 687

the tags & warnings — no warnings or specific tags! just neteyam being emotionally constipated (the usual).

the notes — another thtbu drabble! i think this one fits well as a prequel perhaps? this is one of the first times neteyam starts seeing you in a different light hehe.

part one | masterlist | main fic

You’re mixing the finely pounded dust of healing rose seedlings into a jar of syrupy liquid when you scent him. A moment later, he’s poking his head through the lowered flap of your tent sheepishly.

“Neteyam, hi,” you greet shyly. “How can I help you?” 

When he fully enters the tent, your eyes widen, glazing over each injury notched into his muscular body. You’re on your feet in the blink of an eye, circling his form to assess the damage. His throat bobs as he stands, frozen, unable to meet your worried gaze. 

He hisses when your fingers plant gently on his shoulder, the other hand softly thumbing a particularly jagged wound sliced between his shoulder blades. 

“What happened to you?” you whisper, rounding his rigid stance to stand before him. 

His eyes map your face as you touch his jaw, moving his head from side to side in search of any more damage. 

He doesn’t answer, too immersed in wondering how your features can be so sharp yet gentle and soft. Wondering when your round eyes, framed by thick lashes, had started gleaming like a nebula. He’s only seen you in passing these past few weeks, but recently there’s been talk. Talk of the shy healer who’s beginning to grow into herself, and maybe there’s something new, different, that radiates off of you. But as he gauges every freckle littered across your cheeks, the plump of your bottom lip, he only finds the same little wallflower he’d grown up with.

“Neteyam?” you try again, brushing over a lesion on his chest. 

“I was on look out for Dad with Lo’ak,” he finally says, voice scratchy. “You know how Lo’ak is…” 

Your lip purses microscopically and Neteyam’s mouth twitches up at the furrow in your brow bone. 

He’s almost certain you whisper something along the lines of shithead underneath your breath when you guide him to sit on the mat mirroring your own. 

There’s a line of little containers already set as he lowers himself, one long leg tucked under the other as he gives you his back to face the entrance of the tent. 

His shoulders tense when you start big, slathering something gooey over the laceration that stings the most. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, breath fanning across his skin. 

He shivers, golden eyes wandering around the tent in search of a distraction. Anything that will take his mind off the fact that your small hands are on him right now. Despite you tending to him intermittently for nearly six years, something different has clung to the air his past few visits and it makes him thoroughly unsettled. 

“Still okay?” you ask softly, touch gliding over his injuries like a kiss. 

He chokes on his words the first time around, but manages a croaky, “Yeah.” 

“Good, can you turn so I can work on your front, please?” you say and he nearly melts. 

He turns wordlessly, infinitely more rigid now that he faces you. 

His heart jerks when you lean in closely and he can smell the herbs in your hair. 

Your pointer finger swipes through the mixture and traces the seam of wounded flesh on his stomach, earning a breath that makes his diaphragm cave. 

You are so close and Neteyam’s nervous. He doesn’t know why, it’s only you. Gentle, quiet, and reserved you. The girl who always got left behind, who smelled flowers for fun instead of hunting with the others, who spoke to Ewya like she was your dearest friend. It’s just you.

You’re about to tend to the cut on his chest, but he stops you with a shaky hand, pulling the little jar of salve from you grasp. You’ll feel the hammering of his heart against his brittle ribcage, he knows it. 

“I can do the rest,” he says quickly, flashing you an uneasy smile. “I’ll bring this back.” 

You blink up at him as he climbs to his feet and he feels absolutely weak. 

“But—“ 

“Thank you,” he rushes. 

He doesn’t see the way your face falls as he excuses himself, leaving you by the crackling of the tent’s dying fire. 

neng © 2023

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul

[watatsumiis]

The Winged Yaksha - (Xiao x gn!reader)

A little drabble I decided to do, based on the idea of if Xiao had wings in his more humanoid form!

Content: gender neutral reader x xiao (with a pre-established relationship, can be read as platonic or romantic), xiao has some funky adeptus powers and a big nest in Wangshu Inn, Xiao is kind of dismissive/withdrawn (as usual).

Word count: ~2k

The Dihua Marsh is dark and gloomy today - the tension in the air promises an oncoming storm as well as the bouts of rain that have been pouring down intermittently throughout the day. 

You pick at your food restlessly, watching people walk in and out, but none of them the person you are searching for. 

After a while, somebody finally approaches you. You recognise her as Verr Goldet, the owner of the inn. “If you’re searching for the adeptus,” she tells you, her voice a low murmur. “He prefers not to use the main entrances. Check up on the roof.” She cocks her head in the direction of the stairway leading up. 

“Ah.” You sigh out, setting your empty bowl down as you nod. “Thank you.” 

With your new destination in mind, you set off immediately. Stepping foot outside, you’re met by a strong wind - not too bad yet, but it’s easy to tell that it will only get worse as the night wears on. 

The top balcony is void of people. Seems like nobody wants to be out here on such a dreary night, when the moon is hidden behind a thick veil of clouds. You’ve seen Xiao loitering here a few times in the past, keeping a careful watch over the surrounding lands. 

You stand close to the boughs of the tree, sheltering from the wind and occasional rain. 

Luckily, it isn’t long before you hear someone join you. A noisy, clumsy fluttering, followed by the rustling of branches and the fluttering of leaves as a figure all but crashes down onto the balcony with you, grabbing ahold of the railing for balance so that it doesn’t knock you over. 

“Xiao?” You ask hesitantly, turning around as you try to pinpoint exactly where the noise came from. You see a hulking figure somewhere to your right, and take a small step back. 

“I am here.” The voice is unmistakably his, but the figure you see before you isn’t one you recognise. He seems shaggy and bulky, an imposing silhouette against the rapidly darkening sky where he sits, perched precariously on the railing.

“What’s…What happened to you?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You catch a glimmer of his amber-coloured eyes on you. 

“Ah.” With a rather violent jerk of his shoulders and a grunt of effort, the large protrusions seem to fold in on themselves, disappearing from sight entirely. “...Apologies.” Is all he says as he drops deftly onto the balcony, walking right by you without so much as a hello. 

“What was that?” Curiosity is burning inside you as you follow quickly in his footsteps. You’ve known him for long enough that you know full well he’ll disappear from any social interaction at the first given opportunity. 

“It’s…none of your concern.” He sounds a little less annoyed than he usually might when telling others to keep their noses out of his business. If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably assume he was… embarrassed? 

“You can tell me.” You reassure him kindly. Though you dislike pressuring him, it’s nigh on impossible to get him to tell you anything otherwise. 

Xiao sniffs as he turns and steps up onto the railing once more, setting one hand on a thick tree branch before stepping off and seeming to disappear entirely. 

“Wait, come back!” You’ve been waiting so long to see him that you can’t help but feel distraught at his sudden disappearance. “Xiao!” You call out, after a few moments of no response. 

The adeptus pokes his head out of a bushel of golden-brown leaves and blinks at you expectantly. “Are you coming?” He says expectantly before ducking back out of sight once more.

You learnt long ago not to even begin questioning the strange things that adepti can do. You clamber awkwardly onto the railing, holding the branch tight as you lean forward. Immediately, there’s a difference in the air - a strange kind of stillness, accompanied by that odd, fuzzy feeling that comes hand-in-hand with the magic that illuminated beasts possess. 

Your legs shake as you step out onto the thick branch, tip-toeing your way across and ducking under a large tuft of leaves. You’re pleasantly surprised to realise that Xiao seems to have set up a nest of sorts in the treetop. A rounded platform with raised edges, filled with all manners of material belongings that you’d always figured Xiao had found were beneath him. 

You reach up to brush your fingers over a delicate set of wind chimes, sending them tinkling softly in the still air as you step onto the thickly padded platform. Despite how high up you are, and how windy you know it is outside, something about this place gives you a sense of security and warmth. 

“Wow…” You murmur softly. “This is… This is so lovely, Xiao.” You say. Xiao has his back turned to you, but the way his shoulders stiffen and his pointed ears twitch up and down makes it almost painfully obvious that he has no idea how to respond. 

“You’ve decorated it so well.” You turn a circle as you look around. The roof is open to the sky, the cloud cover you’d seen outside is gone entirely, replaced by a clear view of the moon, which casts gentle beams of moonlight onto the ‘nest’ around you, dappled by the still leaves of the tightly woven branches that surround you. 

Xiao still doesn’t even look your way, but you can tell by the slight arch of his back that he’s puffing his chest out proudly. 

“How did you get all this stuff?” You know from experience that sometimes it takes a few tries to prod Xiao into a fully fledged conversation. 

He ducks his head and sets something down on what looks like a small stone shelf jutting out of the branches in front of him. “Offerings. From mortals.” His voice catches in his throat somewhere in the middle, and he won’t meet your eye.

“That’s so sweet.” You smile warmly. “Do you mind if I sit?” 

Xiao dips his chin and gestures to a corner of the nest filled with various soft things, laid out neatly upon a woven reed mat. 

You wordlessly nod in thanks and make your way over, pulling a pillow out of the strangely stacked pile to sit on. 

“Is there… a reason you’re here?” He asks, grimacing as you unbalance his secondary nest of bedding. 

“I just wanted to visit you.” You blink innocently up at him and try to manage a smile, but it’s a little hard to do when he’s staring so intently at you, as if you might disappear the moment he pulls his gaze away. 

“Visit me.” He echoes, as if utterly unfamiliar with the concept. “I see.” 

You sit in silence for a little while as he paces back and forth a few times, rearranging several things that had been hanging off of the upper branches around his nest, mostly manoeuvring them to different places, even swapping a few out for ones that had been sitting in a small wooden box beneath his shelf. 

After a while, he seems to settle down, walking over quietly and stepping into the pile of pillows in a slow, deliberate way, then sinking down until he’s crouching with his knees to his chest, pausing for a few moments before he begins to adjust his pillows and blankets, patching up the gap your current seat had left behind. 

“So, uh…” You begin hesitantly once he’s fallen still again. “What was with the…?” You make a vague gesture with your hands, trying to imitate the strange, looming shapes you had seen coming off of Xiao when he’d first landed on the balcony. 

He looks away so quickly that it almost seems like he’s dodging an attack of some sort. You watch him cross his arms over his chest, the almost down-featherlike hairs on them reflecting in the pale moonlight. “Those were…” He hesitates, then gulps, before spitting the words out like a foul taste. “My wings.” 

You stare for a few moments, utterly awestruck as you question how you never knew this before. “Wait, really?” You can't help but be a little taken aback at this newfound fact.

“Mm.” The noise isn’t particularly helpful in discerning a clear answer, but you figure that Xiao has no reason to lie to you. 

“Can… I see them?” The question is out of your mouth and hanging in the still night air before you’re able to stop it. 

“You’ve already seen them.” Xiao mutters, hunching his shoulders as he roughly pokes and prods at a blanket, using it to fill in any draughty little gaps in his nest of bedding. 

“I bet they’re gorgeous.” You sigh wistfully, trying instead for a gentler approach as you aim for what you want. It’s easy enough to tell the difference between Xiao being annoyed versus him just being bashful, and you’ve quickly deduced that he’s displaying symptoms of the latter. 

“Hmph.” Xiao puffs out an annoyed noise, turning away as he sits up a little straighter. 

It’s hard to explain the way Xiao’s wings seem to fold out of nothing and into existence, surrounding you both with large, soft feathers. The colours are a little difficult to distinguish in the dark - the moonlight makes them seem wispy and silvery, but on closer scrutiny you can make out hints of the same shades of blue-green that are in his hair, and the golden-amber of his eyes.

“Woah.” You breathe out, a little taken aback by the sheer size of his wings. They only just have enough space to unfurl fully in this nest of his, and even then his left one is almost suffocatingly close to you, curled inwards ever so slightly as if to protect you from the elements that don’t seem to be able to get into this little pocket-dimension Xiao resides in. His feathers seem a little ruffled, some even bent in places, but overall they seem well-groomed and shiny. It seems as if he takes a lot of pride in how they look. 

“They’re amazing, Xiao.” You tell him gently, a smile tugging at your lips as you realise how much trust the adeptus must have in you to be willing to show you something he seems to want to keep so private. 

You watch a few soft, downy feathers fluff up close to where his feathers meld into his shoulder blades, and one of his wing-spurs clanks against the same wind chime you touched when you walked in earlier. A soft sort of crooning noise escapes from Xiao’s throat as he opens his mouth to speak, and he clears his throat quickly to try and cover it up. “Thank you.” He says softly, making fleeting eye contact with you, only to look away the moment he spots the unadulterated admiration in your eyes. 

He straightens up where he sits, and his wings flare out for a brief moment before folding back in on themselves rapidly and disappearing once more - you can hear a few of Xiao’s belongings clanking about due to the disturbance of the air, but he doesn’t seem to care, too busy looking your way as he tries to gauge your reaction. 

You can’t help but be a little disappointed, but you can understand his shyness about them. “Thanks.” You smile at him as you catch his eye. 

He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as his brows furrow. 

“For showing me your wings.” You specify, blinking slowly as he stares you in the face. 

“Ah… I…” he seems to fumble a bit for the correct thing to say. “You’re welcome.” He mutters finally, tearing his gaze off of you to look up towards the moon, perfectly framed by the branches surrounding you that reach up towards the stars.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

[feralghxuls]

Body and Blood

Rating: Explicit/Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Pairing: Swiss/Rain

Tags: Blood and gore, Blood, Biting, Dom/sub, Under-negotiated Kink, It falls within established boundaries however, Dom Swiss, Sub Rain, Subspace, Anal sex, Aftercare offscreen, Snowballing

Summary: Ever since Swiss bit Rain's throat while he was possessed, Rain hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He needs Swiss to bite him again, this time without the possession. (Follow-up to Devoured by Shadows)

Words: 4,525

Swiss hasn’t seen Rain since the evening before, when Ifrit had poked his head into the common room and Swiss had bounced up from his seat and followed Ifrit to his room. He’d crashed there, though they hadn’t gotten much sleeping done, and the waking bell had come far too soon. Still, they’d made it to the dining hall in time for breakfast, and had parted ways; Ifrit off to his table with Zephyr and Ivy and Swiss to the room off the main hall where the band ghouls and Copia ate, separate from the rest of the abbey’s occupants.

 From the doorway, Swiss finds Rain immediately; searching for him in a room has been second nature for so long now he hardly realizes he’s doing it anymore. He’s at his spot at the table already, with Mountain and Cirrus further down, but it doesn’t look like he’s talking with them, just sitting quietly with his hands folded in his lap. His tail hangs down through the back of the chair, relaxed except for the quiet intermittent flicking of the tip, and his ears are limp, head tipped slightly down. Maybe Swiss should be concerned for his mate’s body language, perhaps worried that something is wrong, but he’s not. He doesn’t need to be.

There’s a thin band of metal around his throat, clasped with a small lock at the back of his neck. Swiss zeroes in on it, a rush of possessive heat and affection flooding him. He feels a little drunk on it as his feet carry him straight to the table, completely ignoring the other ghouls scattered around the room. Usually, he’d bounce around between the rest of them, greeting and chittering until the last second before the meal starts. 

Today, though, he’s got blinders on. The only thing in this room that matters is Rain and that collar around his throat and what it means to both of them. He comes to a stop behind Rain’s chair, leaning over him to press his cheek to Rain’s as he curls his body around him, arms crossing loosely over his chest as he presses a kiss into his hair. It could have been an innocuous greeting hug, but it’s not and Rain knows it. His tail curls around Swiss’s thigh almost before his arms settle around him, and Rain leans his head back against Swiss as he skims one hand up Rain’s body to splay against the front of his throat, the other flat against his chest, right over his heart. Swiss stays there for a long moment, narrowing his senses down until the noise in the room fades away and it's just the spiced, warm scent of a submissive Rain, collared of his own volition, his heartbeat hammering under Swiss's palm and the soft hitch of his breath, followed by his throat bobbing as he swallows twice in quick succession. Swiss is purring right into Rain’s ear, and just when the soft answering rumble starts up, he lets out a soft growl and drops his head down to ghost his teeth across the skin of his neck, deliberately catching a fang on the edge of the collar. A promise of what’s to come. When he draws back, it’s slow and lingering, letting his hands drift over Rain’s body, never fully retreating into his own space as he settles into his chair, leaving one hand to rest on Rain’s thigh.

Rain sways slightly in his seat, one ear flicking towards Swiss. Neither of them say anything, but Swiss takes a slow, deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent wafting off of him, subtle enough that it could be missed if you weren’t deeply familiar with it. Swiss, of course, could pinpoint this scent from his lifemate a mile away, and right now it’s taking all his willpower not to bury his nose into Rain’s neck again and drown himself in it. 

He'd caught a good noseful a moment ago though, and it's enough to make it easy to cling to that soft scent even through the haze of all the others, almost as good as straight from the source. Still, Swiss is aware of the coy little smirk Cirrus is directing at them and feels a spark of pride in his chest, feels the urge to pull Rain into his lap just to make the message absolutely clear. He doesn’t get the chance to show Rain off like this often, even more rarely when he’s not expecting it. He knows very well what a rarity this is, that Rain is broadcasting any of this at all, but he knows the rules and he won't push them. He’s already deep in thought, abandoning any attention to his surroundings in favor of planning out what he’s going to do to him later, so the soft touch of Rain’s hand on his wrist startles him. He looks over to meet Rain’s soft gaze, sees the intention behind it just as it clicks that he’s pressing something into the palm of his hand, something small and body-warm and metal. A key. The key to his collar.

Read the rest on Ao3!

[kedreeva]

Giving each other piercings or stick and pokes/queer bonding eddie & robin

(my inbox is open for ST prompts!)(Previous prompts)

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"You gotta stop squirming," Eddie says for the umpteenth time, pausing with his hand hovering. "Make all the noise you want, but you gotta hold still."

Robin settles with a small whine, but she doesn't move when Eddie takes the needle back to her skin. She takes his offer, making a small noise every time he pokes, and he smiles as he tries not to laugh, which would be just as upsetting to his job as her squirming.

"I thought it would be a lot quicker than this," Robin tells him after another minute, voice strained.

"Faster isn't always better," says Eddie, glancing up long enough to give her a little wink.

"Ew," she says, with too much amusement to be serious. "I don't need to hear about that from you any more than Steve."

Eddie snorts and unconsciously sticks his tongue out the corner of his mouth while he works, poking and dipping wiping at the underside of her wrist intermittently. He's nearly done, and actually- "You're doing really well. Steve was much worse about it."

"Ha! I knew it!" she crows, and Eddie has to stop as her arm jerks like she's going to fist pump. He gives her a withering look and she deflates. "Oh, shit, sorry."

"It's not my skin," Eddie says as he takes her wrist back. "But I am almost, almost done. Try counting to 100 and I should be finished."

She sit through the rest of it admirably, stock still, staring straight ahead. He can practically hear her counting. He works to fill the last of the lines as quick as he can without rushing, now that he has a still canvas, and when she finally slouches a little, he pulls away triumphantly. He releases her wrist for her to inspect it, and grabs her other hand before she can touch it.

"NO touching," he says, strictly, and her spine bolts straight at the order. He grabs the stuff to clean it one last time. "You wash your hands before you touch it, and you only touch it to clean it when you replace the bandage, at least for a bit. It'll be art later- for now, treat it like it's an open wound."

"Right," she tells him, and he's glad he wrote down the instruction because he's pretty sure she wasn't listening.

Eddie cleans up the area and then tells her to wait a minute as he pulls off his gloves and reaches for the Polaroid camera Steve had gotten him. He'd thought it was a weird gift, all things considered, but the dozens of photos of Eddie and his friends plastered all over his walls has taught him differently. Similar ones, he knows, adorn Steve's room, now, sitting in between all the weird plaid lines.

"Hold it up, still don't touch," he says, leaning in toward her with the camera facing them. She grins big and flashes a peace sign with her newly-tattooed wrist facing out, and they both make faces as he snaps the shot. He passes it to her free hand while he bandages her wrist for her.

"Thanks," Robin says quietly, when he's finished. She glances up, hand over the bandage, and Eddie thinks yeah, she's not gonna leave that alone. "It looked nice, I think. I mean, it will once it heals."

Eddie nods, and they sit together as the photo develops. She passes it over when the contents are visible, and he inspects the little anchor on her wrist. He'd done one for Steve not long ago, on his other wrist, so that they could put the matching tattoos together while side by side.

"You should get one, too," Robin suggests.

He passes the photo back to her, so she can have one of those to match Steve's, too. "I never worked at Scoops."

"Yeah, but... you're his anchor, too, y'know?" she says. Then she shrugs, and clambers to her feet. "Or get something else, I dunno. You two should have a matching one, too. Bats!"

Eddie laughs, and gestures to his belly, to where he already bears scars that match Steve's. "The bats already took care of giving us matching marks."

Robin gives him a once over so full of something Eddie can't take that he turns to start collecting his gear up just to escape it. Doesn't help. He can still feel her watching him when she speaks.

"You didn't choose those," she says quietly. "Steve and I have... we have matching scars, too. Not on our skin, but we have them. We went through something awful together. So did you. And after it was over, you got to make the same choice we did, and you chose each other. You can choose a different mark to remember that by."

"Geeze, Buckley," he says, chest tight. "Going for the throat, huh?"

"It's what friends are for!" she says brightly. "C'mon! We're gonna be late for dinner. You already took forever!"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Oh! And whose fault is that?" he says, but he finishes cleaning up and washing his hands as quick as possible, eager to get to dinner and see Steve again... and maybe a little to ask him about Robin's idea now, too.

(and if Steve immediately suggests a flashlight when Eddie tells him, if Steve blushes over admitting he's already thought about it, if Steve tells him I'd have my anchor on one hand and my guiding light on the other, well, that's a story for another time)

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand: Chapter Twenty-Four - My Name is Nobody

A slightly smaller chapter than usual, but it turns out it’s really hard to write a full chapter when your character doesn’t speak to anybody :’) 

And as for that ending, yes, we’re going there. Alone. 

(Also, it was kind of funny reading through comments from the last chapter. You guys were either Team MC/Reader or Team Chishiya haha)

_______________________________________________

I don’t know which woke me up first, the throbbing ache in my head, or the beam of sunlight slanting across my closed eyes. The ground was cool and damp against my cheek. I tried to open my eyes; the sunlight was too sharp, too heavy. It took a few tries before they adjusted to the bright light, and only then did I become aware that my clothes were pasted to my skin, wet and icy cold from the storm. I shivered, mouthing the first word that came to mind. 

‘Chishiya.’ 

No. That wasn’t right. The last thing I remembered was the sight of Chishiya’s back as he walked away from me. 

Oh… I see. 

I dragged my hand across the ground, feeling for something — anything — to grasp onto. The ache in my head was unbearable, and I needed to get up. The paving stones were cutting into my shoulder, the slabs solid and unyielding against my body. Flattening my palm against the ground, I attempted to lift myself upright, despite the shooting pain behind my eyes and the heaviness in my chest. 

It took several minutes before I could lift myself off the ground and into a seating position. Squinting, I finally remembered where I was. It was the same street, filled with vacant bars and restaurants, old beer bottles still on tables, bistro chairs rusting from the intermittent rain. Only, the walls were now crawling with foliage. Vines were tangled in webs across the windows, some crawling between paving stones, curling around dining chairs and tables, anchoring them to the ground. And that was just the start. Long blades of grass were poking between the cracks in the ground, rustling gently in the wind. 

Since when does grass grow that quickly?

I could have sworn that there had been no grass or vines earlier. How much time had passed since Chishiya left? I turned around, only to freeze. 

That’s… that’s not possible!

From this confines of this narrow street, I could see the tops of skyscrapers, swamped with vines and leaves. Street signs were almost entirely covered with shrubbery, and in places, the grass was tall enough to brush the windows of cars and vans. Nature had taken over the city. 

What’s happening to this place?

The city seemed to have aged ten years, and I felt as though I had aged alongside it. 

Now that I was sitting upright, some of my strength had returned, even if my limbs were still unsteady and I was shivering in my wet clothes. With two hands braced against the ground, I managed to stand, swaying a little with the sudden movement. I spied a convenience store just twenty feet away, and shuffled towards it, ripping a web of vines away from the door. 

Inside, the shelves had been looted of any valuables, but there were still some items left. I searched around for anything edible. Now that the fear from the Jack of Hearts game had subsided, my stomach was growling in protest and my throat was parched. Having eaten cookies during the Jack of Hearts game, and ramen in the hospital, I wasn’t sure why I should be so hungry. But then I caught sight of myself in the mirror above a sunglasses stand, and barely recognised the hollow ghost there. I knew I had lost weight, having seen my awful appearance in the mirror back at the furniture store. But this… this was different. The shadows under my eyes were more pronounced than ever, my skin had turned a sallow, sickly shade, and my cheeks were sunken like the skeletons from my nightmares. The reflection was a shadow of myself. Or at least what I used to be. 

I looked away, ashamed at what I had become. 

After exhausting the shelves with no luck, I moved to the storeroom behind the counter, finally coming across a couple of packets of dry noodles. There was no bottled water around, let alone a portable camping stove, but they were better than nothing. I slowly crunched my way through the noodles, leaning against the counter out of fear that if I sat down I wouldn’t get back up again. 

I guess even here you can get hypoglycaemia. 

The noodles didn’t exactly taste of anything, but they satisfied my hunger and gave me a little strength. Though I wasn’t sure what the point of it all was. Chishiya was gone. So was Kuina. This world was now overgrown and empty. What was the point in surviving anymore? 

I had no motivation to move or even continue on. There was no reason for me to keep going. And yet, I still found myself moving towards the door, wandering shakily down the street without any real awareness of where I was going. The only minotaur in this labyrinth of a city was the King of Spades, but even then, I didn’t really mind if he caught me. 

It wouldn’t change anything. It couldn’t change the past. 

Squinting against the burning sunlight, I came across an open shopping district with bars, stores and eateries. Just like the rest of the city, the grass had wound itself around the street lamps, strings of ivy circling cars and signposts, foliage engulfing the outdoor dining areas. 

Shuddering in my icy clothes, I immediately entered the nearest women’s clothing store and didn’t waste any time in selecting a new outfit; a clean, soft hoodie, undergarments, a pair of jeans, and trainers that weren’t caked in mud. 

Warm, dry, and no longer shivering, I ventured into a neighbouring restaurant in search of water. All I needed was a bottle or two. Maybe water would cure me of this headache. The restaurant was a modern sushi bar, and from the moment I opened the door, I was assaulted by a foul smell. The tables around me were exactly as they had been left, with small bottles of soy sauce, used plates of half-finished food, and flies devouring the leftovers. Clamping my hand over my nose and forcing down the urge to gag, I traced the main source of the odour to the static conveyor belt, in particular, the small plates of rotting rice, nori and seafood. 

At least I didn’t come in here for food.

Holding my nose, I found the mini-fridge under the counter with bottles of water stacked inside, grabbed a couple, and hurried out of the restaurant before it made me sick. Outside, I gulped the fresh air, clutching the bottles to my chest. I had been told that the Beach’s supply runners never ventured into restaurants, and now I could see why.

I stumbled my way over to a bench, ripped open the cap from one of the bottles and gulped down the water. I knew I was thirsty, but I hadn’t realised that I was this thirsty. I demolished both waters easily, and after sitting on the bench for a little while, the dull, throbbing ache in my head did ease slightly. Although I felt a little better physically, the heaviness in my chest remained. Nothing ahead was clear. 

Where do I go from here?

Suddenly, a whistling metallic screech sounded from far away. 

I’m sure I didn’t see any blimps around here. 

I stood up, looking around for the source of the sound, and caught sight of a blimp in the distance, its body half-concealed between two buildings as it plummeted to the ground. I only glimpsed the face card rippling in the wind before it too was consumed by billowing flames. 

The Jack of Diamonds. 

“‘If you need me, you know where I am.’”

No. 

I had no business going there. Not anymore. That path was closed to me now. I had to forge a different one. 

And so, I began wandering again. Once or twice, I saw others searching for supplies or walking together. I didn’t bother speaking to them, and thankfully they ignored me. I was glad to be a passing shadow. I was used to this solitude. It was familiar, painful yet comforting, despite what my brother had always told me. 

‘You can’t spend your whole life alone,’ he had said to me, just after we arrived at the airport. It was such a long flight, and we were sitting in arrivals, waiting with our bags for his friend to pick us up. ‘I know it’s hard, but one day you’ll have to leave on your own accord. He’s not just going to let you go easily. You need a plan.’ 

I had been sipping a bottle of fizzy water, staring at the darkness just beyond the large airport windows. ‘It’s easy for you to say,’ I’d mumbled. ‘Dad’s okay with you doing whatever you want. You don’t know what it’s like.’ 

He had grimaced bitterly, running a hand through his sandy hair. ‘Okay, fair enough. I get that. It’s hard leaving a place when you know there’ll be backlash. But you know, he can’t physically stop you from just walking out. It has to happen eventually. People can’t survive holed up like that.’ 

‘You’d be surprised. I’m still alive, aren’t I?’ 

And then he had smiled. But it was nothing like his usual sunshine grins and contagious laughter. I’ll never forget the strange, knowing look in his eye when he asked, ‘Are you?’ 

Now, with no destination ahead of me, and a past I couldn’t return to, I finally understood what he meant. I had never been truly alive. I thought I was, at the Beach or in the furniture store, laughing with Kuina over her silly stories whilst Chishiya pretended that he wasn’t listening. But really, I was living through them. I had no stories of my own to share.  

I was empty. 

Maybe that was the reason why my footsteps faltered before a tall, sleek hotel. My eyes traced the scale of the building, finally coming to rest on the blimp humming far above, its face card rippling in the wind. I didn’t really understand what drew me towards it. Perhaps a vague curiosity. Or disinterest. 

If life is just a meaningless gamble, then why not take my chances… 

The dice was mine. 

And with that thought, I trudged towards the doors to the hotel and stepped into the King of Hearts venue. 

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 8 Ep. 174: A Quiet New Years

Not long after Peachy switched careers New Years Eve rolled around, and for little Luigi it was a very un-merry New Years indeed.

He awoke with his mouth and head both feeling like they were quite literally falling apart, suffering from a loose tooth and classic Bloaty Head symptoms. He stumbled down the hall in search of his dads. Surely, they’d know how to help!

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

Dada Peachy listened patently to his saga of aches and pains and then wrapped his hurting little man into a giant, careful hug.

He coaxed Luigi into laying on the sofa and closing his eyes to rest while he went to check with Jack about the best medicines to soothe the symptoms of their poor sick son. The two dads found something that would help him rest and left him right there on the couch where they could keep watch.

Once he’d drifted off to sleep, they called Chance to bow out of the New Year’s Eve party they’d planned to attend at his place that evening.

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Luigi woke from his nap to find Valentina quietly reading beside him. When he said that his head felt a bit better, but his tooth was wiggling worse than ever, the experienced mom suggested that he might prefer to help that along rather than suffer it indefinitely.

When she was his age she’d hated the feeling of loose teeth too, and she’d always wiggled them like crazy until they popped out. It hurt a little bit more right afterwards but still felt better than trying to eat or talk with the shaky tooth still in there poking and aching randomly.

Luigi was willing to try anything and worked on that unstable incisor until it popped free at last! The gaping hole it left behind did ache and bleed a little bit, but it soon felt much better and stopped being a distraction on top of his more serious health issue.

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Bloaty Head was no joke. Despite the medicine and nap, Luigi’s headache lingered on, joined by intermittent waves of dizziness.

Valentina kept him entertained with a story while Jack headed into the kitchen to cook up a big pot of his matzo ball soup and Peachy cleared space for the folding table in the magic room right down the hall from their loopy little trooper.

While they ate, they talked about their goals for the new year. Peachy was aiming to build enough respect for his comedy at work that he could leave the music angle out of his acts. Luigi and Jack were excited about llama scouting, skill building, and some upcoming video games. As for Valentina, she wanted to improve her overall health and intended to turn her focus to healthy eating habits and exercise for both her and her kids.

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

After another long nap, this time with Papa Jack keeping him company, Luigi woke up feeling just a bit better than last time.

While they were resting Valentina had left to see her family and Peachy had transformed the spare bedroom with some old treasures from the attic.

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All rested up, the trio played videogames until the all-important countdown at midnight, ringing in the new year merrily after all!

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Want To See More? View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[dingoat]

Void-touched

[Just a little bit of writing indulging in some of the terrible angst we've been inflicting on our (best) worst boys over the course of playing through KotFE. Five is... having a time.]

Five never bothered with mirrors these days. Looking presentable was never an issue; he’d perfected the art of doing his hair and having his uniform crisp and symmetrical decades ago, to the point where he could ready himself blindfolded on one foot. But now, there was no pleasure to be found in what had once been perfection. His face… it wasn’t his face any more. His body no longer felt like it belonged to him.

Sometimes, though, even without a mirror, he found himself still forced to acknowledge the changes.

His wound was weeping again, and he’d be damned if he’d get any of the medics to poke and squeeze at it any more, for all the good they’d done him so far. The mystics were no better, and all of Lana’s pacing and fretting hadn’t done a blessed thing. He was fairly sure even Valkorion’s invasive ghost, with all the power he whispered about, couldn’t do a damn thing for him, though with that thought Five allowed himself a brief smirk. Carefully, Five pulled down his trousers and winced at the gash on his thigh, and the dark, spidering discolouration of his skin that spread from it in every direction.

The wound itself was not painful. If anything, it was numb, a disconcerting sort of nothing where his leg had been gored by that beastly monolith among the ashes of Ziost so… so long ago. Ulfran had babbled some nonsense about a void, but… it had been healing. It had been getting better, slowly but measurably, before five years in carbonite had robbed him of his life and quite plainly compromised his body’s ability to heal. Now the wound oozed and stretched as though it had been made mere days ago, and the infection across his skin…

Five twisted and pulled up his shirt, then uttered a soft sound of dismay.

Further, ever further it crawled, rivers of purple and black that reached up his side and across his chest, and it was the edges of the infection, the areas where clean flesh was slowly overcome, that it burned and shot him through with intermittent blazes of pain. He traced his cybernetic fingertips along one of the paths of infection, lines of charred black and gleaming violet along his skin, wincing at the sensation and then snorting with the horrid irony that soon, his false arm might be the only recognisable part of himself.

How had he ever let himself dare to hope for something different? Why had it felt possible to dream of a quiet, comfortable retirement, for himself and his Thirteen and even Crow? After Ziost, he’d found himself increasingly disinterested in his desires for greater power, greater control and influence, wanting instead the time and space to…

To simply enjoy being alive.

Five twisted about the other way, peering over his shoulder to try and examine the extent of the infection along his spine. He felt cold more often than not, now. Cold, and an unfamiliar sort of melancholy, nothing at all like the comfortable rage he’d nursed since he’d been a boy. No, he didn’t have room for that sort of strength of feeling any more. He’d been dragged and pressed into the position of Commander, he had beings from every side of the old wars under his thumb, staring at him, coming to him for advice and direction. He had more power now than ever before in his wildly ambitious life, and he cared for none of it, except for the one tiny thread of hope that it might mean, perhaps, he could attempt to shape a future where at least his precious Thirteen might continue to live. Maybe even live well.

Five no longer saw himself in that future.

He was dying, of that he was quite certain.

Perhaps Thirteen knew it, despite his best efforts to hide it. Thirteen knew how often he reached for his cane, once the adrenaline of a mission wore off, before he had the chance to reach for another stim or hit of kolto. And nothing could disguise the change in his eyes, the luminescent violet that now sometimes burned so bright it smothered his pupils. Perhaps Thirteen recognised that something in Five was turned beyond repair, perhaps it was self preservation that led the Cipher to push away from him, to rebel, to lose trust and faith and seek companionship… elsewhere.

Five closed his eyes, shutting out the world with a soft sigh. If it was self preservation guiding Thirteen’s actions, he couldn’t blame him. He might even be proud, if only he could find it in himself to feel anything.

But it was all fading, and the further Five pushed away the anger, the passionate fury, even the disgust in his own failing body, the easier it became to ignore the cold and the hurt and the desire for something better. Even the quiet yearning for the simple touch of Thirteen’s hand at his cheek was barely a whisper in some shadowed recess of his heart.

And it was better this way. The command he’d never asked for was now all he had, to try and carve out a future for Thirteen out from under Zakuul’s tyranny and Valkorion’s insidious influence, and his decisions would be more clear, his directions more effective, if he didn’t have distractions like fear and fury and vengeance muddying up his thoughts. Thirteen could cry for Kaliyo all he wanted, but the alien had been a loose cannon, a liability, and her death had been a long time coming.

Slowly, Five rolled his shoulders and straightened his spine, trying to find some part of himself that still felt real.

When he opened his eyes, he nearly startled to see Thirteen staring at him from the doorway. Five did not care for anything he saw in his Cipher’s eyes, but the shame and rage that might once have felt inevitable never came. He did not need help dressing his wound, and the sickness crawling across his skin was no longer Thirteen’s business to concern himself with. “Get out,” Five found himself saying, his voice quiet, his tone as deathly flat as the end he knew was coming for him.

This isn’t how I wish you to remember me.

[queerlyloud]

To continue my random intermittent mxtx posting binges, I am once again sozzled and watching cql and I just noticed something I've never realized before and it punched me in the solar plexus. So we all remember the scene where Wei Wuxian gives Wen Qing the special satchet to protect Wen Ning, and we see how she hold it in her hands and lightly caresses it, right before the camera cuts away to Jiang Wanyin BUYING HER A GIFT.

MAJOR CQL/MDZS SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Okay, so we know that Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian are narrative foils in a lot of ways but one way I never noticed was that they even juxtapose how Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin each desire to befriend Wen Qing and how they approach that with a gift. Wei Wuxian's attempt to befriend Wen Qing is so overtly unsexual that I never even realized these two scenes were side by side so we can see the differences in how they view and approach Wen Qing. Neither of them know her yet, but they both want to for different reasons. So I want to do a quick side-by-side comparison and breakdown of how the gift giving foreshadowed the entirety of each character's arcs with Wen Qing.

1. The Initiative of Each Approach:

1a. Wei Wuxian approached Wen Qing in the chamber where she was tending her sick brother. He went out of his way and made the actual real effort to visit and speak to her about her brother and had even thought enough about doing it beforehand to prepare a handmade gift specifically for her brother. This required a lot of thought and action already, and he doesn't even know if she'll give him the chance to know them yet. He's already investing real time and energy into a potential relationship with them.

1b. Jiang Wanyin's awakened interest was caused by a chance encounter, and the effort he makes is by chance, too, at a time that is convenient to him since he was already strolling in the market. He did have to work up the courage to approach the stall and buy the comb, but he is so mortified and worried about how other people might see him that he dithers long enough for us to not even see him actually purchase the comb. Like all his future efforts with Wen Qing, he will only do what is convenient and will only do it where it is invisible and no one can say anything to him about it. When it comes to how other people see him, he waits too long and thus loses his chance.

2. The Motivation of Each Approach:

2a. Wei Wuxian is not interested in Wen Qing for her own sake. Instead, he is concerned about her younger brother being ill and in the middle of a brewing conflict. Wei Wuxian looked at Wen Ning, saw an innocent young man in trouble, and decided that there was no other recourse than to offer his aid to the boy's more world wise elder sister with whom he could work to protect Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian may have poked at Wen Qing while she was poking around where she shouldn't have been on the back hill, but what ultimately drove him to seek her approval was the desire to save her brother.

2b. Jiang Wanyin's interest, on the other hand, is purely in Wen Qing, the pretty and talented young doctor. He purchases a comb in her colors, an aesthetic choice that showed that he recognized her background, and in a shape (the comb itself) that expressed romantic interest. His interest was only ever in Wen Qing, never in anyone that belonged to her.

3. The Ultility of Each Approach:

3a. Wei Wuxian's gift is a functional item that he himself took the time to handmake specifically to serve a purpose that is important to Wen Qing. Again, he had to think about what would be useful to them, gather the materials, craft it, and then approach them to offer it with the full understanding that the gift might be refused.

3b. Jiang Wanyin did what any normal teenager with a crush would do and saw a thing that reminded him of his crush and bought it for her with no idea if it would be useful to her. I cannot emphasize how normal and healthy this perfectly average teenage behavior was, I'll give this one to Jiang Wanyin, 100/10, you are living the teenage experience, good job, king, so proud of you for this. But it was, unfortunately, not the correct approach for Wen Qing who is already a traumatized war hostage in her own sect at this point (Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing's complementary instinctive trauma bonding is a topic for another post).

4. The Reception of Each Approach:

4a. Although she was suspicious and afraid, Wen Qing still ended up accepting Wei Wuxian's gift because, even if she didn't yet know where she would end up during the war, Wei Wuxian still managed to convince her even in that one interaction that he only wanted to help her younger brother. Wen Qing had her brother continue to carry that protective item even after he died.

4b. It is important to note that Wen Qing did not reject Jiang Wanyin's attempt outright. She gave him time and chances to prove that his gift was more than it seemed, that it could mean something more than just a gifted comb. Ultimately, because Jiang Wanyin fails to rise to the opportunities Wen Qing allows him, she ends up rejecting his gift because in the end, whatever feelings the comb represented meant nothing when they were not backed by action.

5. The Conclusion of Each Approach:

5a. From the beginning, Wei Wuxian acted in the interest of people under Wen Qing's protection. He worked alongside her to protect the people she loved all the way to the end, just like he gave Wen Ning the gift that remained with him until and beyond his death.

5b. Jiang Wanyin hesitated to take action on Wen Qing's behalf because he was too afraid of what others would think of him. He thought only of Wen Qing, giving her a gift that was just for her and generally aesthetic rather than functional. No matter how real the feelings or good the intentions, the gift was useless to her and she rejected it outright once she knew that for sure.

Ultimately, the way to Wen Qing's heart, for better or worse, has always been her people, and Wei Wuxian, with no other motives or intentions, helped her protect them from the very first day of their friendship and continued to do so long after she left the world. And the way they foreshadowed all of that with just those two scenes is so cool, 100000000/10, will watch this show smashed again and again and again.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Disclaimer: my humor is broken DX

Canada, Germany, and Prussia with a friend reader who normally doesn’t drink all of sudden unironically going “two shots of vodka :)” with a vodka bottle (but it’s actually water because friend reader woke up that day and chose chaos lmao)

I uh tried with this one enjoy!

🍁🇨🇦 Canada 🇨🇦🍁

Y/N can be chaotic when they feel like it. Today was one of those days. Since it was the start of Senior year for them, they wanted to be a little wild and have some fun before they had to be a real adult and handle the mundane issues of taxes, bills, and more bills. So you dumped an empty water bottle into a succulent that you had on your desk. You refill it with Amsterdam peach vodka that only really college students would buy to create jungle juice. You took a long swig of it before getting ready for your classes.

“Ahhh!” The cheap alcohol burns your mouth and tastes buds as it goes down and leaves a slightly sickly sweet taste in your mouth. You ran to your refrigerator and chugged some juice to chase the bitter taste away. You shower and prepare for the first day of your senior year. You get a text from Matthew in the middle of your routine while you continue to take intermittent sips of vodka.

Matty: You okay? You know there are only 3omins left in class, right?

You: No, I’m fine I will be there soon.

You toss your phone into your bag and dashed from your apartment to your lecture hall. Leaving only 15mins left in the lecture anyways. When you finally arrived, you plopped down next to Matthew. You were winded and had no more oxygen left in your lungs.

“Easy y/n.” He whispered to you. “What in the world happened to you?”

“Nothing, bro haha. Just a mornin.~” Your words were slightly slurred. Matthew could even smell the alcohol on your breath.

“YOU CAME TO CLASS DRUNK?” He whisper shouted just slightly too loud for being so close to your eardrums. You flinch and move your head away from him so you wouldn’t suffer hearing loss.

“Heh. Yeah. I’m gonna have some FUN this year ahahhaha.”

Matthew tries not to roll his eyes, and you hear him grumble out ‘oh maple pancakes.’

‘Y/N wasn’t kidding when they said they were going to live by the rule: Carpe Deim. I wonder if my dumbass brother has something to do with this.’ To his surprise, you were already leaving the lecture after only a minute of being there. ‘Oh boy, they’re adamant about getting in trouble.’ Matthew packs his stuff. He had more than enough notes for today that he’d share with your tomorrow when you became sober.

“Why do syllabus week if all we do is sit there and listen to professors talk about what we can already read?” You say to no one in particular while you take another long swig of vodka. “CARPE DIEM!” You charge into the school's cafeteria with a concerned Matthew on your tail. Needless to say, he witnessed all of the havoc you created in the university and to others who have done you dirty during your Freshman and Sophomore year.

By the end of it, Matthew was able to get you back to his apartment, where he kept you safe and out of trouble until you were sober again.

“Y/N, I will never let you drink again.”

🍻🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪 🍻

“Hey, Ludwig, after Kaffeestunde, we should play a drinking game!”

“Y/N, that is the worst idea I’ve ever heard from a teaching assistant. Nein.”

“Oh, come on Ludwig let's have a little fun! After all, they’re all Master’s students, and it’s our final year in our Ph.D. programs. This is our year to shine let's have some fun come on! Don’t be a stick in the mud!” You playfully poke at his hardened and reddened cheeks.

“Alright, fine. But we have to STUDY first, then in the second hour, we can play your little drinking game.”

“I’ve got a perfect idea!”

Kaffeestunde am Freitag 16:00

“Alright, everyone, the game we’re going to play is simple: Were going to watch Goodbye Lenin, and you have to take a shot of Belvedere or a sip of Blaufrankisch (a type of Austrian red wine) each time you laugh. Understood?

Unfortunately for you, you had a sensitive funny bone that led to your undoing that evening. Ludwig had to carry you back to his apartment so that he could nurse you back to health.

“Y/N I’m never letting you drink again.”

🐥 Prussia 🐥

“Gilbert! Gilbert! Wait up, I have an amazing plan to have some fun tonight! I managed to copy the keys of one of the lazy janitors, and now we have unlimited access to the planetarium.” You have a wide grin that is adorned on your face. You couldn’t believe how easy it was to use a quick hardening clay to get the imprints you needed to create a new one.

He raised an eyebrow, and his crimson eyes scanned your face and body language for a few moments as he wondered what had happened to his normally calm and mellow friend to return. You were charged up like a hyperactive Pikachu that had discovered Red Bull. You were ready to charge!

“So with these keys at 23:45, we can sneak into the Planetarium once the Professor and his two underlings leave for the weekend. It will be su[er fun I promise. The shows that they put on for students are amazing I’ve been to a few of them, and I can tell you now. It’s worth the risk.” Gilbert’s muted skin still crinkled with confusion.

“Okay, if that doesn’t convince you then maybe this will.” You pull out a colossal bottle of Aromatique.

“Was zur Holle? Where in the world did you get that from?”

“I have my ways.” You pulled out a 5 ml bottle of Tito’s vodka and guzzle it within 5 seconds. Gilberts' jaw dropped.

“Y/N what in the world are you-”

“ I’m a senior this year, and I’ve decided that I’m going to be chaotic.”

And chaotic you were. You only lasted for an hour in the planetarium while playing Never Have I Ever, because you were drunk off your ass. He took you back to his apartment and kept you there until you were actually able to walk.

“Y/N, I’m never letting you drink again.”

[awordbroken]

i was going to reblog the wip meme but actually i'm just in the mood to post snippets from wips, so here's something from hope: origins since i'll never finish it but i still like the bits and pieces i have scribbled down from. uh. like 2020. 🤲

warning for about two sentences of lightly descriptive body horror (referencing the work-in-progress babby).

***

The Professor leaves the lumpy sack by the window. The ghost drifts over to poke curiously at it; opening it reveals a ghastly tableau of meats.

"These don’t seem very high quality," the ghost says with the cautious tone of someone who is trying not to be hurtfully critical, but nonetheless has an Opinion to convey.

"That’s not for the project," the Professor says distractedly, bent over the scrutinizer. "It’s for the bull. You can feed it, if you like. Wave a piece out the window, it’ll catch the scent."

The ghost is not sure it’s interested in 'feeding' 'the bull'--whatever protects this unnaturally static fragment of Parabola from being reclaimed by the encroaching wilderness, presumably--but pinches a poorly cleaned soup bone, streaked with drying flesh, between its claws and gingerly holds it out the window.

But the aurochs is a sight, it must be admitted, with bright, dream-stained eyes that preface its emergence from the tall underbrush like beacons. It looks confused to be offered its lunch by someone other than its owner, but perhaps it catches their scent from inside and is reassured, because it’s willing enough to lip at the proffered treat. Its curly forelocks look delightfully soft. A true creature of dream.

"You know it doesn’t really need the meat, yes?" the ghost asks casually over its shoulder. "It only eats your gifts because it appreciates the sentiment."

The Professor gives the ghost an inscrutable look, and moves to stand next to it. "The sentiment is the important part, I suppose. It’s nice, sometimes. To show you care."

Below, the aurochs, having nibbled the bone clean, takes it between its glinting fangs and bites it in half, mere inches from the ghost’s claws. It hastily drops the remaining half, and the aurochs settles down to lick at the marrow. Is there a mischievous tilt to its bovine body? They both watch it eat for a moment, the ghost frowning distrustfully.

"It’s likely for the best, but all that meat…" The ghost gives the Professor a sidelong glance. "I thought you might be nesting."

The Professor looks alarmed. "Should I be? Humans don’t typically... nest."

"But we do. The cravings we experience while carrying form the foundation of a new collection. It… concerns me… that the project will begin its life at such a disadvantage. A collection is a foundation of identity. What will it look at to know its place in the universe?"

They both look to the table, where the small construct of flesh and sinew is slowly taking shape. Already, it intermittently tries to draw breath with half-formed lungs. The project is marching inevitably to its completion.

"That’s the crux of it, isn’t it," the Professor says quietly. "It’s not being carried, and it doesn’t have a place. It’s something new. Something there has never been before. Something that has never had permission to be. Do you want to take that from it? Define it, like you and yours have been defined, Mr Mirrors?"

Mr Mirrors is silent, though one oversized ear twitches in acknowledgement. When glass shatters, it is in a thousand pieces. Its name is spoken, and one shard is put back in its frame. A sliver of strength. No more.

"There's peace in knowing who you are, little bird," it says at length. "I could take it inside me, complete the gestation. Hold off the birth until we've assembled a suitable collection. Let it have that joy. It might be kinder in the long run."

The Professor stands stiff and unhappy. 

"I wanted this time to be different," they say, lips pursed with tightly restrained emotion. "Not to have to play midwife to my own child again."

"But you would." It's not a question. "For the good of the child."

[coolcattime]

After what feels like years of falling through the void, Martha and Andor wake up in what appears to be a forest with firelight coming from a nearby clearing. Confused, they head towards it and are greeted by two pirates, neither of whom they've met before and one of whom Martha is pretty sure is meant to be dead. Capsize and Redbeard greet the newcomers with caution, assuring them they aren't dead, and that at the very least Redbeard isn't dead. The statement isn't the most reassuring, but they don't have any time to explain more since Shadows start creeping into the clearing.

Now in a slight rush, Capsize very quickly explains that *something* has happened to the Champions. They have no idea what but whether they appear next, one of them is going to hunt them all down and try to kill them. Obviously Martha and Andor don't really believe what they're hearing, since the ideas of the four becoming bloodthirsty killers with no regard for their friends is ridiculous, but she doesn't really care if they believe her. She says that they'll be a task to do to escape, they'll just know what it is, and just run from anyone that isn't her or Redbeard even if they really look like one of their friends. The Shadows then overwhelm each one of them and they seemingly black out.

When they seconds later appear in a jungle, now separated, with the distinct idea in their heads that they need to fix the machines scattered around the area, they realise there might have been some truth to the pirate’s words. When arrows start flying and they hear Redbeard crying out in pain, they realise there’s more truth than they ever would’ve believed.

Survivors:

Capsize, Redbeard, Martha, Andor, Gaines, Season 2 Dianite, Alister, Alyssa

Killers:

Jordan, Sonja, Tucker, Tom, Furia

Unsure:

Waglington, Mot, Spark, Jeriah, Season 1 Ianite

Jordan.

An imposing hunter that roams a jungle corrupted with odd technology, Jordan still believes he’s working in the name of his Lady. When the Shadows began to corrupt him, they used her voice, his desperation to be with her again, to convince him that those he’s killing are nothing more than sacrifices for his Lady. Wielding a rapier and a bow, he hunts ruthlessly through his jungle, defending his tree and his Lady’s temple.

His arrows are less deadly than his sword, but he’s modified them to help him track the targets they hit by giving them intermittent shocks until they remove the arrow head. He will hunt down the intruders in his jungle to sacrifice them for his Lady. Even if some of them look familiar, none of them would be here if they weren’t traitors to the Goddess.

Sonja.

A woman corrupted by forbidden knowledge and a purple disease. The Shadows came whispering to Sonja, promising her the knowledge of what truly happened to Capsize, insisting she wasn’t truly dead. Sonja tried to ignore them for as long as possible, but when her own research into contacting the dead failed her, the amount she had delved into the forbidden knowledge having taken its toll on her body, she gave in and allowed herself to once again make a deal with the Shadows. She was shown Capsize in the Shadow’s realm, being hunted down and killed by Furia over and over again, and in a moment of despair the Shadows took control of the Flux and Taint and fully corrupted her.

She now roams a tainted forest, in the middle of which sits a library filled with the forbidden research that condemned her to this fate. She wields staff which she attacks with, but her real danger comes from the overwhelming taint that has corrupted her body and that she spreads to the survivors she hunts, harming and slowing them. In her mind, she is hunting the monsters that hunted her friend, completely unaware that’s exactly what she’s become.

Tucker.

A ruthless blood knight, strengthened by the wounds of his victims. Tucker was already wracked with guilt before the Shadows came to corrupt him, regretful about the actions he did for the other Mianite. The Shadows poke at the guilt, showing him the killing of the Ianitas, as well as showing him the killers that Jordan and Sonja have become, blaming Tucker for this too. And as the guilt became overwhelming, they corrupted it into a want to join his friends, into an incurable bloodlust.

Now he controls a walled fortress, wielding the god killing sword once again. He uses his victims blood to power himself, resulting in more blood spilling. He has no idea who the people he’s hunting are, he barely has any idea of anything but the need to gather blood and sacrifice those in his fortress to someone.

Tom.

Tom was not corrupted in the same way his friends were. In fact, he’s no longer himself at all. The Shadows reached out to the power inside him, the god that Tom killed and accidentally stole the power of, and offered him a chance to be in control once again. Dianite was more than happy to accept.

Wielding a jagged, serrated blade, Tom’s body has been bent and manipulated to look more like the horned god that now controls it. Roaming a recreation of his own temple, he has complete control of his environment, seemingly able to appear from anywhere to ambush the survivors. Tom is aware of what’s happening, of what has become of himself and his friends, but is powerless to stop a one again completely empowered Dianite from hunting down his friends still uncorrupted.

Furia.

There was no corruption needed to persuade Furia into the Shadow's Realm. At the time of their original death, they were invited, given more power to continue to hunt and kill, at the time only survivor, Capsize for all eternity. And who were they to refuse the offer?

Their home is now a burnt wasteland, filled with obstacles that survivors struggle over and they move through effortlessly. Wielding a cursed sword, their attacks burn, growing worse over time if not treated. The Guardian sometimes misses when it was just them chasing down the pretty much helpless captain, but they can't object to the new prey that has slowly made its way to the realm. Though still, they make sure to give extra special attention to her whenever she once again finds herself in their grasp.

[kikiiswashere]

Climb

I went camping and hiking this weekend. While clambering over a boulder field, my hiking partner mentioned how much forearm strength is needed to pull yourself up over rocks. Naturally, my thoughts immediately went to Silco and his forearms. As one does.

Here is a quick, modern AU, fluffy one-shot about climber Silco and his GN!climbing partner.

Warnings: None, SFW

Pairing: Silco/GN!reader, established relationship

Note: As great as my weekend was, I come home sick, so please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. My brains feel all mushy and my body can't decide if its hot or cold

---------

After hauling your dusty, sweaty body over the ledge, you paused to breathe and take in the view. Below you: forest. Swells of green leaves jostled in the breeze under your feet, sounding as much like the ocean as it looked. Intermittently, tall cones of evergreens and firs poked their heads up from beneath the green waves.

Speaking of the ocean, it lay beyond the trees and past the craggily rock shoreline. Deep and steady, despite the breeze. Fishing and sight-seeing boats dotted the water. You were currently too far up the mountain to smell the brine.

The sun shone brilliantly, warming your cheeks and the rockface you were currently perched on. Closing your eyes, you tilted your face up towards the sky and took a deep, satisfying breath in, rib cage stretching pleasantly as your lungs filled to capacity.

“Time for a break?”

Silco’s voice broke you from your reverie. Eyes squinting open, you watched your climbing partner plop beside you, long legs dangling over the edge with next to yours.

“Yeah, I wanted to take in the view anyhow,” you replied, nodding out at the horizon.

Silco nodded and shouldered off his backpack. He unzipped it and pulled out two granola bars, handing one over to you. Smiling, you took the offering. After a moment of quietly munching and gazing at the sight laid out in front of you, Silco looped an arm around your shoulder. A butterfly beat its wings against your heart and you leaned your head against his shoulder.

 You and Silco had been seeing each other for almost year, having met at a climbing gym in Zaun. You had moved to the city for a job and didn’t know a single soul. One night, while scrolling through the Groupon app on your phone, an ad for a local rock-climbing gym caught your eye. You considered yourself outdoorsy and athletic. Downloading the coupon, you made plans to go the following evening.

You arrived at the gym after work, and immediately doubted your decision. The room was large and bright, tall jagged plastic rocks peppered with neon hand and foot holds arced and jutted all around. People decked out in harnesses, tight shoes, and chalk scurried up the walls like spiders. Who were you kidding? Rock-climbing wasn’t for you. Hiking? Scrambling over boulders? Camping? Yeah, you could do that. Not defy gravity and laugh in its face.

Before you could slide back out onto the streets, a young man (a gym employee by the looks of his shirt and confidence) stopped and greeted you. His name was Silco. He was tall and lean, with bright blue-green eyes, dark hair swept back in a bun, and forearms . . . his forearms . . .

Your focus on his forearms was quickly gave way to the smile he gave you. Endearingly uneven teeth with what looked like a small chip in the two front ones. With that smile, he corralled you back into the gym and showed you the ropes – literally.

You were delighted to find that you took to rock-climbing like a fish to water. . . or, rather, a goat to mountain. What was more, you enjoyed it! What was even more, you enjoyed gym manager Silco’s company. He seemed to enjoy yours, too. Enough to ask you out a couple months after joining the gym.

Several successful dates, climbing trips, and moving in together is what had led up to the current camping trip you were taking together. The first few days you did aided climbs. Today, you had convinced Silco to do a strenuous hike instead; your groin had chafed pretty badly during the previous day’s climb and you needed a break from a harness. The hike still took you both up the face of the mountain, but instead of needing equipment, the trail guided you over large boulder fields and up rockfaces with the use of iron rungs.

“Ready to go again?” Silco asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, getting to your feet. He held out a large hand and helped you to your feet.

Reshouldering your packs, you both began back up the trail. Easy conversation flowed between the two of you, the soft crunch of stone beneath your hiking boots coupled with an easy breeze created a comforting atmosphere. Following the blue blazes painted onto the trees and rocks led you both to the next ladder up the mountain.

“After you,” Silco said, presenting the way up with a flourish of his sculpted forearms.

You shimmied up the ladder. It was a longer than the previous, and curiosity got the better of you. I peeked down to see the ledge below and Silco staring up at you, a lilting smirk on his lips. You snorted and continued up.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked as he joined you on the ledge above.

You rolled you eyes and said, “Why am I getting the feeling that you’re having me go up the ladders first so you can look at my ass?”

Silco barked a laugh and stepped closer, crowding you against the mountain. “And what if I am? You stare at my forearms while we climb. Can’t I watch a part of you I admire?”

You chuckled, grabbing his forearms and pulling his closer. His hands cupped your shapely rear as your face tilted up to capture his lips.

------

Note: Thanks for reading! The doctor told me that comments and reblogs will cure what ails me <3

[queenxxxsupreme]

Congratulations on your milestone! Could I request an oneshot where it’s the moment where Jaskier holds baby Charlotte for the first time when she’s born, and he goes all soft, please? Thanks so much!! 😘

A/N: I have this whole story behind Charlotte’s name which if I ever get around to it would tie into an OC x Eskel fic that has to do with a sister of Jaskier’s and this whole dad!Jaskier AU kind of dabbles into it…. But I just have to kick my own ass into gear lmao.... also this is another one of the asks that was sent in over a year ago.... yikes I'm the worst lmao

Warnings: a bit angsty but fluffy, nothing outside of canon

You hummed quietly as you moved around the kitchen, making sure to be nearly as silent as possible. One week old Charlotte was just in the other room taking a nap. You had struggled to get her to sleep but now that she was finally asleep, you could clean up where it was needed. 

As you were passing a window, you glanced outside out of habit. Your eyes caught sight of two horses coming down the path. One was Roach carrying Geralt and the other was Piper carrying Jaskier. 

You hurried to go outside and meet your husband, but made sure to quietly close the front door behind yourself. 

Jaskier jumped down from Piper’s back before she even came to a stop. He was so eager and excited to get to you, to make it to you before the baby arrived. 

But as he started to approach you, he realized your stomach wasn’t as prominent as it had been two weeks ago when he left with Geralt for a contract. 

The bard came to a slow stop, brows drawing together with concern. His lips parted as his breath caught in his throat. 

“The-The baby.” He couldn’t even form a complete sentence. 

“It’s alright, my love.” You assured him, placing your hands on his arms. “She’s inside.”

His features immediately softened. His hands came up to your biceps. 

“She?”

“Mhm.” Tears sprung from seemingly nowhere as you nodded your head. 

Without missing a beat, Jaskier pulled you in for a hug. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, hands pressing against your back. 

“When?”

“Six days ago just before sunrise.”

His shoulders trembled as he cried into the crook of your neck. 

The both of you had been told by your midwife that the baby wouldn’t be born for three more weeks, so you encouraged Jaskier to go with Geralt on one final trip before fatherhood prevented him from traveling for a while.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Nonsense.” You brought your hand up to brush your fingers through his thick dark hair. “We are both safe. I only wish you would have been here to witness her birth.”

He pulled away to look at you. His cheeks were stained red and tears dampened his skin. You reached up to brush the tears away, smiling softly. 

“Would you like to see her?”

“Of course.” 

Jaskier started to go towards the house, his hand firmly holding yours. You hesitated. Your eyes found Geralt. 

“Come on, Geralt. You must see your niece.”

“I will be in momentarily.” The White Wolf told you, a soft smile playing on his face. “I’ll put the horses up.”

***

Jaskier squeezed your hand intermittently as you led him down the hallway towards your bedroom. 

“She just laid down for a nap not too long ago.” You warned him. 

He let your hand go and began to go to the crib by himself. You remained near the door, watching your husband with teary eyes. You had cried multiple times since her birth thinking about what this moment would be like, and now it was finally here. 

Jaskier took his lute off and gently placed it on the floor against her crib. 

“Oh my gods.” He whispered. 

Inside the crib was what looked like a wrapped up loaf of bread. But the little face poking out from the off white cloth made his heart melt. 

Without hesitation, Jaskier picked her up. 

“She barely weighs anything!” He whispered, blue eyes very briefly finding you. He returned his gaze to Charlotte as he cradled her in his arms. 

“Right now, she has your eyes.” You moved to stand next to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “Hopefully it stays that way. You have beautiful eyes.”

“She’s got your nose.” He chuckled softly, then sniffled. “What-What have you been calling her?”

“We agreed on Charlotte. After your sister.” 

Jaskier brought his gaze back to you. 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“We agreed on it.” You cupped his cheek and used the pad of your thumb to gently brush the tears away. 

“No, thank you for this. For-For giving me a daughter.” He turned his head to kiss your palm. “It’s more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

“My love, I’d give you the moon and stars if I could.”

Jaskier leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours. 

You both stayed like that for a few moments, eyes closed and taking in one anothers warm breath. It was comforting to just be there with your husband and now with your daughter too. 

“Geralt is going to love her.” Jaskier pulled back, a bright and proud smile on his face. 

“Let’s go introduce him.”

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