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#shippy drabbles
bridgyrose · 3 months
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Weiss and Ruby are the best of friends, thick as thieves etc. People around them think they're an adorable couple, which couldn't be farther from the truth. So they decide to wingman for each other to get with their real loves. A simple Freezerburn & Ladybug oneshot prompt for you to consider.
(I went ahead and actually made this one a one shot instead of two smaller parts)
“I need your help to get a date with Yang.” 
Ruby nearly spit out her coffee, quickly swallowing it and nearly choking in the process. She coughed a bit as she tried to get air to go down the right pipe, clearing her throat a bit. “I-I dont think I heard you right. I thought you said you wanted a date with Yang.” 
Weiss sighed and handed a napkin over to Ruby. “You heard right.” 
“Okay, why?” 
“Well, for one, I think she’s actually fun to be around. We spent, what, five years all living together in a dorm and an apartment before finally splitting off? Besides, it would get people to quit thinking we’re together.” 
“You’re… not wrong…” Ruby let out a defeated sigh and took another sip of her coffee. It had been something that always bothered her when others assumed that she and Weiss were together, though it wasnt like they had given anyone much thought otherwise. Even with a rocky start, it didnt take long for her to get close to Weiss and become nearly inseparable with her. “Fine, I’ll help you get with Yang, but you need to help me get a date with Blake.” 
“Deal,” Weiss answered a bit too quickly. 
“Wait, you’re serious?” 
“Of course I am.” Weiss flashed a smile at Ruby. “But first, we’ll need to fix your style.” 
Ruby looked over herself, looking over her corset and cloak. “What’s wrong with what I wear?” 
“Nothing, but if you want to catch Blake’s eye, then we’ll want to change things up a bit. A bit more color, we keep a corset but find one that’ll fit you better for casual wear than the combat corset you wear. And your cloak-” 
“I’m keeping the cloak.” 
“-we bring into a casual look too.” Weiss pulled out her scroll and started to look up a few stores to go to. “But we need to make sure it looks different from your huntress gear. Right now, you look like you’re ready to go on a mission at the drop of a hat.” 
Ruby raised a finger to argue, then lowered it when she thought more about it. She had been gungho about being a huntress and she didnt quite remember when her wardrobe had started to delve more into her huntress gear, and a change in style might help. “If you’re so sure this will work, why do you need my help getting a date with Yang?” 
“W-well, I…” Weiss looked away, hiding her blush. “I… dont… actually know how to talk to her and I needyourhelpwiththat.” 
Ruby smirked a bit as she watched Weiss almost shrink in her seat as heavy blush started to cross her cheeks. “I dont think I’ve ever seen you like this.” 
“I dont always have to be prim and proper, you know.” 
Ruby winced a bit with how annoyed Weiss had sounded, but she put her mug down and smiled softly at her friend. “I know, but you always seem to have an air of properness to you. Even when you were crushing on Neptune, you still kept yourself acting like everyone was going to judge you for how you acted. But now, you look like the person you’ve been hiding beneath all of that. Shy, nervous… like a teenager.” 
“I havent been a teenager in years-” 
“I dont think you ever were a teenager.” 
Weiss pulled away, faking being offended. “I was too!” 
Ruby giggled a bit and stood up. “If we’re going to get you a date with Yang, we should start by getting you to talk to her.” 
“Fine, but that means we’re taking you shopping for Blake.” 
“Wait, hold on, I didnt agree to that.” 
“You didnt, but you cant ask Blake out looking like that.” Weiss took Ruby’s hand and grinned. “Besides, you did agree to my help.” 
Ruby nearly yelped as she was pulled out of the cafe by Weiss as they made their way from store to store, trying to find a look that better suited her. It almost felt like a whirlwind to her as she was shoved straight into a changing room with skirts, shirts, belts, boots, and scarves practically being thrown at her. Finally, she had a moment to stare at herself in the mirror, black jacket with studs down the arm, a dark red shirt with a few black roses around the hem, a plaid skirt with chains around the waist, fishnet tights, and combat boots. “I feel… naked.” 
“But you look great,” Weiss said as she started to clean up the rejected clothes. “And you look more casual and less like a huntress.” 
“Y-yeah, but my cloak and corset-” 
“You can still wear your corset under the shirt if you really need it and we can stitch one of your extra cloaks into the inside of the jacket if that makes you feel a bit more comfortable.” 
Ruby sighed and nervously pulled at the loose shirt she wore. Most of her clothes had always been tight, hiding her arms to make them look thinner, a corset to keep everything in place, a cloak to hide how broad her shoulders had gotten, and now as she looked at herself, it had felt as if a wave of dysphoria had struck. All she could see were how broad her shoulders were with the jacket, the skirt was a little shorter than she liked, toned arms looked more like Yangs had a few years ago at Beacon not hiding the muscle she had built up over the years. She nearly jumped as she felt Weiss put her hands on her shoulders, feeling her press into her from behind. 
“I promise, you look great,” Weiss said in a quiet whisper. “I know you’re not exactly confident about who you are yet, but you have features that other women have spent years trying to emulate too. Besides, its just for Blake, right? Once you have your date with Blake, you never have to look back at this outfit.” 
“Yeah but-” Ruby looked away from her reflection for a moment as she tried to find the words she had wanted to say. Of course she was nervous about what Blake would think, and while she trusted Weiss, there was still the small voice in the back of her head that kept telling her that Blake wouldnt want her, that she was too different. The breath she didnt realize she was holding left her lips as she felt Weiss hug her from behind, moving her arms around her shoulders. 
“You shouldnt worry about what Blake thinks about you. She knows about you and if that was ever a problem, then she would’ve made that known before. Right now, all you need to focus on is being yourself when we get her to ask you out.” 
“And you know you can talk to Yang about the movies you like, right?” Ruby asked as she leaned back into Weiss. “She likes those same cheesy romance movies you do.” 
Weiss blushed and pressed her face into the back of Ruby’s neck. “This is about you right now, not me. I’ll… I’ll ask Yang when I’m ready.” 
“And you think I’m ready to ask Blake?” 
“No-” 
“Then when I talk to Blake, you talk to Yang.” Ruby took a deep breath and slowly released it as she tried to calm her racing heart, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “That way we can still be there for each other without making things awkward.” 
“Fine.” Weiss pulled away and checked the price tags of the clothes that Ruby wore. “When were you thinking then?” 
“Tomorrow at the fair.” 
“Dont you think that’s a bit cliche?” 
“Yang and I go every year, and this year Blake will actually be here for it.” Ruby smiled a bit and took the jacket off. “Worst case, we dont actually ask but we still are able to have a bit of fun.” 
Weiss paused for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll hold you to it.” 
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“Maybe you can spend some time with Weiss,” Ruby said as she walked through the fairground entrance with Yang, nervously adjusting the jacket she wore as she pulled up the hood of the cloak she sewed into it. “I know we normally hang out together-” 
“Sure, I dont see a reason why not,” Yang said. “Its not often I get to hang with her and this would be a better chance than any.” 
Ruby smiled a bit. “That’s great!” 
Yang looked over at Ruby. “You… seem a bit excited about that.” 
Ruby paused in her step and rubbed the back of her head. “I-I wouldnt say excited, just happy that you and Weiss can spend a bit of time together.” She pulled out her scroll and frowned a bit when she noticed a text from Weiss that she’d be late. “Though, from the sounds of it, she’s going to be late anyway.” 
“Then that gives me a bit of time to beat you at a few games until she comes around.” 
Ruby grunted a bit as she felt Yang ruffle her hair, nearly messing up the ponytail she had taken her time to get right. “Can you warn me when you do that?” 
“Are you okay?” 
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Ruby pulled her hood down and fixed her ponytail, taking a bit of time to look around. “Why dont we check out one of the shooting galleries?” 
“And let you beat me that easy?” Yang asked. “If we do the shooting gallery, then you have to take me on at the High Striker. An easy win for an easy win.” 
“How about we go on a couple rides instead while we wait?”
“Wait on who?” Blake asked as she walked over with Weiss next to her. “Sorry we’re a bit late, Weiss took a little extra time to get ready.” 
Weiss rolled her eyes. “No more extra time than I normally do.” 
Ruby blushed a bit as she looked over at Blake, looking away for a moment to hide it with her hood. “Well, since we’re all here, then we can have a bit of fun.” 
“Rubes, you and Blake have fun,” Yang said as she took Weiss’s hand. “Weiss and I’ll be over by the spinning teacups.” 
“Wait, hold on, we cant leave them just yet!” Weiss protested as she was dragged away. 
Ruby smiled a bit as she listened to Blake giggle at the sight, nervously tapping her foot on the ground. This had been exactly what she had wanted, and yet, no matter how many times she had thought about being alone with Blake, her heart still pounded in her chest and the words she wanted to say were stuck in the back of her throat. She felt her cheeks heat up a bit as her blush deepened, and all she could do was nervously straighten out her jacket until she heard Blake speak. 
“I guess it’ll just be you and me for a bit,” Blake said with a smile as she reached for Ruby’s hand. “Weiss said you wouldnt mind if that was the case.” 
“O-of course I dont mind,” Ruby said as she gently squeezed Blake’s hand. “A-actually, I… I was hoping that you and I could be together for a bit. I-” she looked away and took a breath to try to calm her heart as it pounded in her chest. Her hand started to feel a bit sweaty as she became more nervous, every part of her wanting to rush away like normal. “And I was hoping that we… could go on a date. Together. You and me without Yang or Weiss-” 
“I’d love to.” 
I’d love to. The words practically rang around Ruby’s mind as she relaxed a bit, a goofy grin crossing her lips as she took a step closer to Blake. “Then why dont we play a few games before we do any of the rides? I hear the shooting galleries have some decent prizes today.” 
“Planning on winning me a prize already?” Blake asked with a blush. 
Ruby nodded and looked towards Weiss and Yang, watching them talk in line for the teacups. She looked back towards Blake and started to lead her to one of the shooting galleries, feeling a bit more confident. “You cant go to the fair without winning a prize. And since you havent been able to make it around in the past, I want to make sure tonight’s a good night for you.” 
“I’ll hold you to that.”
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elvenbeard · 10 months
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~ Beach Day ~
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yeehawkins · 9 months
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Ricki Tikki MacTavish
Back home for once, Soap brings Ghost over to his flat. A small visitor awaits them
Coming home is an exceptionally rare luxury. And an even more rare occurrence is Simon Riley actually having any time away from the field. Johnny wanted to seize his chance to get to know the other more. Plus, he knows Ghost has nowhere to go, so it was only right to invite him over to his place. Really, it was more of a plead than an invitation, as old habits rarely die with that man. 
As they approach the apartment door, Soap pulls out a monstrosity of keys.
"How many fucking flats do you own?" Ghost states in astonishment.
"Just the one,'' Soap responds.
“Going to be here for ages trying to get into it.” Ghost states, rolling his eyes.
“Have a little faith.” Soap grins, almost magically flipping to the correct key with one cacophony of jingling, shaking it some more in triumph.
A little more jangling of keys, and Soap unlocks the apartment door, gesturing for Ghost to go ahead.
Ghost couldn't help but gawk upon entering. A few stains on the carpet notwithstanding, the place was downright pristine.
After tossing his bags by the door, Soap takes a look at his welcome guest.
"What? Never seen a clean flat before?" Soap teased.
"Well I certainly didn't expect one from you" Ghost retorted.
"Think I got the name by being filthy?"
"Oh I know where you got the name, slippery bastard" Ghost lets out a guffaw then picks up the shorter Scot, scooping him up in a hug. This knocks the air out of Soap a bit, and gets him blushing.
"Easy with the goods!" he laughs.
"That was easy"
Their banter is cut short, as there was someone else in the apartment. Ghost puts down his friend, and turns around. A small, fluffy tabby cat has made its presence known. The cat is quite loud, and continues to meow until Soap leans over to acknowledge her. He immediately melts at the sight of his beloved cat, scooping her up in his arms.
"Ricki! Oooh I've missed the hell out of you! My wee lady hold down the fort alright? Not give Ms. Darcy any trouble, did ya?"
Ghost watches as Soap devolves into a babbling Scottish mess at this cat. He lets out a chuckle, almost endeared at the display. "Didn't tell me you had a missus."
"Ah Ms. Darcy's just my landlord. Takes care of Ricki when I’m gone," says Soap.
"I mean the cat, MacTavish."
Snapping a bit out of his loving stupor, Soap tucks Ricki under his arm like a football. "This here's Ricki. My gran couldn't resist her face, but her allergies certainly could. So I took her in," He pauses to scritch the top of the cat's head with his other hand.
Ghost gives a genuine smile. His eyes go between Soap and Ricki, and raises his eyebrows at the man, clearly asking a question.
“Go ahead. Unlike me, she doesn’t bite.” Soap smirks, now holding Ricki like a baby. 
Ghost almost seems apprehensive to pet the cat, not wanting to spook her. However as he moves his hand towards her, she pushes her face up to his hand, purring loudly. 
“Aww, looks like you’re allowed to stay,” says Soap.
“Didn’t know there’d be a test,” Ghost replies contently, with much of his focus now on the purring cat. “Good to know you’ve got someone looking out for you off the job”
"Aye, really we look out for each other.” Soap beams, using one of his hands to now rub the cat’s belly. “Ricki canny hear a thing. Deaf as all, but fuckin’ loud as all too. Wouldn’t have her any other way”
Ricki takes a gentle swat at Soap's hand, shooting him a look. Ghost retracts his to avoid being included in getting hit.
“Guess the welcome party’s over” Ghost jokes. 
Soap sets Ricki back down on the floor. She goes right back to meowing once on the floor, circling Soaps legs.
“I believe somebody’s hungry,” Soap states. 
Once he has a briefly clear path, he begins walking toward the kitchen, Ricki weaving in and out between each stride. He opens up a cabinet, and looks back over at Ghost.
“Well come have a sit, Simon. You’re allowed inside more than 5 feet, you know.” Soap hollered. 
Truthfully Simon was in a bit of a trance, never much of the social type and perfectly content just watching Johnny and his cat do their thing. Hearing his name definitely snapped him out of it though. He walks over to the large couch in the living room and sits, still watching the other man and the cat in the kitchen. 
Johnny takes out a small bag of cat food, but looks down and notices her bowl is still full. 
“Oh you cheeky shite!” he laughs, looking at the cat staring at him, bending over to scritch her head. She simply yells back. 
“Fine, fine, a treat for my girl,” Johnny happily sighs, putting away the cat food and grabbing a smaller bag. He pours out a few treats into his hand, which prompts her to spring up onto the counter, somehow getting even louder. 
Johnny waggles a finger in front of her like a dad. “Ah ah ah! You know the deal.” He then points downward. 
Simon’s eyes widened. Upon this gesture, Ricki sits down, still looking up at Johnny and yelling of course. Johnny laughs and hands her a treat, placing the rest down on the counter for her, which she happily eats. He then walks over to the couch to join his guest, who is not at all hiding his surprise at what he just saw.
“You trained a cat.” Simon states in shock.
“Yep.” Johnny responds matter-of-factly, leaning back on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.
“And I’m the one outta my mind for drinking bourbon?” Simon laughs.
“Yeeep.” Johnny replies in the exact same tone. The two then catch each other's eyes, and exchange laughs. They both settle even deeper into the couch and let out content sighs, Johnny leaning his head back and shutting his eyes with a smile on his face.
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breezypunk · 1 year
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Cherry Blossoms. 🌸
I wrote a thing under the cut if you like reading. I'm very rusty but I miss writing about them.
"Taking me to one of your favorite places all dressed up, huh? It must be be my lucky night." Vaughn leaned back on the railing of the loft where his bedroom resided, just overlooking the living room area. He turned to look below him for just a moment, the TV was still on, and there was half eaten pizza on the table. Vaughn wanted to chuckle at the memory of calling for delivery and Goro's face being less than amused. But just as he was fondly reminiscing, he was pulled back into reality when the sound of the bathroom door opened, his partner stepping out, a trail of his favorite cologne immediately hitting his nose.
"Wow."
"Been a while since I wore anything like this.." Goro looked down at himself, dressed in a white button up and black dress pants that stopped at his ankles, he looked good.
"You look great." Was all Vaughn could say, he was tongue tied. He forgot that Goro once dressed like that entirely. He was so used to seeing Goro in nomad drab, dirty, smelling of nature and car oil. But this was a wonderful welcome, he liked seeing this side of him too.
"So do you, V." Goro started walking towards him, as Vaughn's heart palpitated, God he loved that side smirk, but he took a moment to look down at himself as well, he was completely underdressed. "Do not even think about saying anything about what you are wearing. You look fantastic V, this I already knew.. It'd almost be not you if you looked too fancy." Goro put his hands gently on Vaughn's shoulder, his thumb caressing him so slightly.
"I rolled the cuffs of my shirt though, that's good enough right?" Vaughn winked as Goro chuckled and rolled his eyes, the fool of his life, incredibly endearing.
Goro finally closed the distance between them, his arms wrapping around Vaughn's shoulders, his head tilted up to bury his face in Vaughn's neck, he smelled so good. They stood there in perfect silence for a moment, taking it all in. They were finally going on a date after so long.
"Is this.. weird? Being back in the city after so long?" Vaughn rested his hands on Goro's back, running them up and down slowly, the fabric was sticking to them a little, but he didn't care, he just needed to touch him.
"Very, but a good weird. We needed a break, V. I enjoy being back here, even for a moment… When we aren't in danger of course."
"Yeah, a good weird. Plus I get to see you in a button up, a win for me."
Vaughn looked behind him again, this time towards the window, it was wet, droplets of rain were falling down the glass. Goro looked up to see where Vaughn's attention was, before noticing the rain and walking backwards towards the wardrobe, where beside it laid a small black umbrella.
"Rain or shine, we go. I am not missing this opportunity. The cherry blossoms have been glowing."
"Oh God, you're so lucky I love you. Otherwise I'd be going back to bed, this weather does things to me." Goro placed the umbrella on the bed before walking right up to Vaughn and placing his hands directly on his chest. Vaughn whipped his head around and looked down to see Goro's eyes blown wide open. "You do things to me in this shirt, V."
A temporary short circuit followed by realization hit Vaughn all in a matter of seconds.
"Oh fuck off, let's go." He smiled widely before walking around Goro and grabbing the umbrella. "It worked, you're smiling." A tactic that worked well, Vaughn being used by Goro so good, and he loved it. Especially when he looked like that. Right as they were approaching the elevator to leave their apartment building, Vaughn was stopped by Goro, who was looking him up and down before grinning proudly.
"Did you match me on purpose, V? White t-shirt, black jeans? You really are the biggest sap I know."
"Oh shush you, it was purely coincidence. I.. swear." Vaughn spoke before rushing to turn around and stepping into the elevator. "You comin'?" Goro appeared frozen in place for a second, his eyes squinted but with a faint smile, before finally but slowly entering the elevator. "You are rare, V."
"And you love it. Now let's go see those cherry blossoms so you don't have a heart attack old man."
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catgirl-catboy · 2 months
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All it took to jumpstart your career was one good story. Vox knew that better than most.
Any of the other nobodies he'd worked with could have found the story, but what a waste that would be!
No, god made that story for him.
The world held its breath for him. Gentlemen vanished into the night, not even leaving behind a body to bury!  Police, confounded!
From there, it was laughably easy. He rose through the ranks, and almost cried when the fucker was caught.
He would outshine Alastor, rise to the top again.  He just needed his next story.
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sisterdivinium · 1 year
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Silence had always been her home — solitude.
Concentration shunned the noise of company and Jillian Salvius had long made secluded labs into sanctuaries.
Yet she found herself suddenly housing a nunnery — and suddenly she saw that presence was not all nuisance. Beatrice's step was light, Camila's voice low and Ava's laughter more song than hassle.
"If we can ever repay you..." Mother Superion said.
She was the greatest discovery, stern yet soothing: a partner whose every word was essential or unspoken instead.
Jillian smiled and shook her head.
She would not ask and risk ridicule — but they needed only stay.
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useless-fanfictions · 2 years
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Inko almost crying when she comes home and finds her son and Katsuki Bakugo asleep on the living room couch with what looks like the second All Might movie's credits rolling.
Their large, third-year bodies sinking in her cushions and falling off the poor piece of furniture, and their heads lulled together in sleep, nearly breathing the same air.
It is finally over, she sighs to herself with a fond smile. The bullying that her son lied to her about, the rivalry, the hatred, the tears— it is all finally over.
Seeing them together like this, a mirror image of how they used to be as kids (the two of them were very sleepy children and loved to cuddle each other), gave her an overwhelming sense of joy.
Her heart is full because her boys are friends again.
It's been years and they are finally back. And yes, they are her boys. Just like the two of them are Mitsuki Bakugo's boys as well. They were together so much as kids that the two mothers practically raised them together.
And if Inko, once her tears have stopped streaming, goes and calls the other mother, a woman she talked to less and less as their sons worked out their differences but whose contact she never lost, to retell how she found the two of them. Mitsuki demands a picture and so Inko sneaks back down to the living room again.
A little while later, when the two wake up (blushing hard when they realized that they had once again gravitated toward each other in their sleep), Inko pretends nothing is wrong and they are both grateful.
They also don't acknowledge how it is the best sleep they have gotten in a little while, even if their necks are a little sore from the awkward angle of the couch.
And two weeks later, when Mitsuki calls up to Katsuki that dinner is ready and both her boys come down the stairs, it isn't an unpleasant surprise to the Bakugo parents. They just set aside another plate and strike up a conversation with Izuku as they do their own son.
Nothing is amiss and they love getting to re-know the boy they helped raise as a young child.
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motownfiction · 5 months
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divination
Daniel doesn’t dare tell anyone about this – not even Sadie – but he thinks he must have known what was going to happen between Charlie and Elenore.
He thinks he knew even before Charlie told him on Christmas Eve, when they went to go see Sam in the cemetery. Something about the way Elenore looked when Daniel saw her … something about the way she sounded on the phone, or the way her infrequent emails read. There was something going on – a feeling Daniel would only describe as what he would get if he somehow had the chance to spend a night with Princess Leia in her long white dress. Only one person in the world could do a number like that on Elenore.
And Daniel knows he couldn’t have stopped anything. He couldn’t have even talked to Elenore about it. He loves her – always, always, especially now that there’s no Sam for her to run to when no one else understands – but it’s not like that. Daniel’s not like that. He can love you to heaven and hell and all around Saturn, but he’s never going to make you talk about your feelings unprompted. He’d die if anyone asked him flat like that. Figures everybody else would, too.
Everybody, of course, except Sadie. The only person he could ever say any of this to, except for himself.
“Divination,” she says.
Daniel makes a face.
“What?” he asks.
“Divination,” Sadie says again. “It’s like being able to see the future. I always thought you kind of had it. This just gives me the proof.”
Daniel thinks about that for a minute. Maybe he is the kind of guy with a hunch for things. When he was six, and his father never used the stupid little soap Daniel made for him one Christmas, he knew one day, he’d leave and never call them again. He knew as soon as Lola made her first grilled cheese sandwich by herself that she would open her own restaurant one day. And he knew from the first time Sadie kissed him that she’d be the only woman he ever kissed for the rest of his life. He was always right. Something about the bones.
“What should I do?” he asks. “For Elenore?”
Sadie shrugs.
“Call her up,” she says. “Talk about anything. Except what’s going on.”
Daniel almost smiles.
Sounds pretty good to him.
(part of @nosebleedclub december challenge -- day 20!)
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grollow · 1 year
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Grimm put up a good fight😌for the prompt asks I would like to see him and Hollow with something from a series of "firsts". IE, first kiss, first hand hold, first time accidentally setting one of the Dirtmouth houses on fire, ect ect. Just one of those things will do, anything ya want! I like fluffy "first" prompts 💖💕
I'm not back from my mini hiatus but I wrote this in record time and I don't know if you see my Ao3 updates or not so I wanted you to see it. <3
b u r n || AO3
If there is anything that I have learned, in all of my years, throughout lifetime after lifetime after lifetime, it is that nothing ever truly stays buried.
Not truths. Not lies. 
And most certainly not a hurt so deep that I find myself impressed it hasn’t a smell. 
It is a tangible thing, the way that it clings to its every motion. It is a myriad of shadows and regret and it drips off it. I am reminded, continuously, of the great sheets of water carried by the devastating storms that blow in parts of the wastelands beyond. 
Those are places it has never seen; that few, if any, in this kingdom have. 
I would invite it to come with me, if I thought it would accept. It will not. 
Its place is here, in this dying kingdom that moulded it from the fathomless void below. An artisan, that Wyrm – I cannot deny that part of me is jealous at the sheer marvel of creation his vessels are.
I have a favourite one, though, and it is not my summoner.
It is instead the creature that my summoner rescued, when it scaled the Godseeker’s mountainous challenge in order to blot the sun from the sky.
I should be more bitter, perhaps. My Ritual remains incomplete. I do not know if it will return and that is a problem for me. The child remains dormant in the charm, left in my tents, awaiting its return – and I am distracted instead by its birth-cursed sibling, pock-marked with scars and peppered with burns that Soul should long have healed.
I do not think it can channel anymore.
This is, perhaps, the source of its predicament: it is standing in front of its old prison and assaulting my senses all over again with a depth of feeling that makes me question the merit in the Wyrm’s so-called foresight. If my eyes can see the cloak of regret that it wears, surely his could have as well if he’d but known to look.
Ah, but perhaps that is unkind of me: we are ever slaves to sentiment and it is not uncommon for someone to see what they wish to see. I am no stranger to such concepts. I see what I want to with it as well. I see a creature with potential to be so much more. I see pain that can find closure, if guided by deft hands. I see a strength unmatched by any that I have ever beheld, and I am at once enamoured and intimidated. I do not spook easily but it seared and burnt without breaking.
It is impressive.
It is also trying with abject futility to do something with sticks that I can only guess the purpose for. 
“Hello, my friend,” I greet it  softly and I stay out of its reach.
Sneaking up on someone who has hurt for so long and with no relief is not wise. Sneaking up on someone with a particular grievance with those who have an affinity for dreams is even less so. I give it the space it requires.
It turns back to me. I can make no emotion out in its mask and that is by design. Its siblings are both the same, although the spider’s tones when she speaks have plenty of inflection - more than enough to deliver intent. 
I wonder what it thinks of me. What it beholds when it looks upon another… vessel of a fashion. We are not entirely different in that regard, but the origin and motivations between our natures are worlds apart.
It watches me with an intensity that I find at once daunting and incredibly fascinating.
This is not our first meeting. The spider dragged it out of the Black Egg and to my tents. I am more qualified to help deal with injuries wrought in dream than any other and, as loathe as she was to admit it, I was the best option that she had for help. We bandaged it together and she never let her eyes leave mine. She introduced the two of us and when the deed was done, she took it away. I assume to a house in Dirtmouth. I did not ask.
I am not exactly welcome by the locals.
I saw it descend into the well when I was talking to the steeds. I will not lie: I followed out of curiosity for its purpose.
This place must bring back a lot of memories for it. It has, after all, known very little else and every other place that it spent time is long gone.
I let my gaze go up to the Temple. It is carved in the husk of a great void beast and enchanted with seals that, even in their darkened state, are impressive. There are tangled veins of withered, dead infection: brown and mottled instead of the sickly orange-gold that I know was once here. The pustules yet remain, hanging off the building as a macabre reminder of the prisoner’s previous state.
I think that it should not be here. 
My opinion, however, is not one that it has any obligation to listen to.
“What are you doing?” I ask, and I close the distance once I am sure that I have not startled it. I have practice dealing with people who have been badly traumatised. My Troupe is often alluring to individuals of that nature. It is no different in that regard. 
It holds up a stick for me to see and then looks down again. I cannot shake the feeling that the motion is one born of shame. It was supposed to not think or feel, I recall – to be truly empty, to be the perfect shell its sire needed. It is none of those things, and it is embarrassed by that. Hence the weight worn over it, a mantle to be crushed beneath.
I do not understand its meaning. Perhaps I am not meant to.
“Does your sister know that you are here?”
It does not answer. Not in a nod or a headshake, though I am fully aware it is capable of both. It stares instead at the stick in its hand. 
There are rocks beneath its hand on the ground, and they have clearly been moved there from their previous positions.
I know what I am looking at.
“Are you attempting to make a fire?” I ask, my hands lacing together under my cape. When I stand this way, I appear smaller. It is much bigger than I am, but both hunched and crouched, I practically tower over it and there is something in its demeanour that suggests it would rather itself disappear as well. 
A broken thing, the Hollow Knight. 
I am given an answer in the form of a nod and I allow myself to chuckle.
“To burn the Temple?”
Another nod. 
I hold my hand out, then; it is an invitation. 
“How big of a fire would you like?” 
It cocks its head to the side. It does not know if it can trust me. In fact, it probably thinks that it should not. After everything it has been through, I cannot fault it. It does take my hand and let me help it stand and I consider that to be a victory.
Its head inclines toward the building. I cannot see where it is looking, not really, beyond the structure, but my feeling is that it probably…
… wants quite a large one.
Or at least, I would want a very large pyre indeed, if I were confronted with a place that housed my worst memories.
“Stand back, if you please,” I request, and it is obedient: it complies by taking enough steps back that I wonder if it is running. It is not. It watches me.
What kind of performer would I be, if I did not give it a worthy show?
I held my hand above my head and offered it a very satisfying snap. The fire on the building ignited in the same moment: crackling flames, dancing freely up the sides in a scarlet that put my eyes to shame. 
I drop my hand to my side and look back over my shoulder. It creeps closer, until it is at my side, but it is spellbound. I do not need to see its eyes to know that they are trained on the dancing light consuming the shell. Burn. Burn.
“Bigger?” I ask and I smile. It nods without looking my way and I curve my wrist; I pull my fingers closer and the roar of the flames becomes louder yet still.
The shell is strong. It is not particularly vulnerable to heat and yet with enough effort –
I heard it crack. I heard the top of the shell – the de facto roof, really – cave in and embers fell into the middle chambers. From there, it was only a matter of time until the inferno took hold.
“There is catharsis in saying goodbye to the things that have caused us pain,” I tell it and it does not look at me. I move over to the side, so that I am close enough to touch, and then lean my head over to rest against its side. “I would be your friend, if you would allow me.”
It does not look at me. I did not expect it to.
I also did not expect its hand to snake down and lace its fingers with mine, but it does: it curls them into the spaces where mine are.
I smile wider. With my free hand, I coax the flames to dance ever higher for it to watch. They crackle and offer a very satisfying pop.
It will not take long to burn it to ash.
I will stay with it until then. I have ever loved having a rapt audience. 
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nightwardenminthara · 3 months
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valentine's drabbles - gideon/rodaine
stop - muse a holds muse b back from walking back out into the fray
a scene we have discussed many a time, in which rodaine is frozen by trauma upon seeing corypheus' archdemon in haven (as always, rodaine belongs to @sinquisition)
The last of the stragglers are being ushered into the Haven Chantry when the dragon’s screech rips the sky. Gideon grips his staff so harshly his knuckles feel as if they will burst from his skin. His heart is racing and dear Maker, the sound is only getting closer.
What can they do? It’s all so hopeless. He is going to die here. Gideon remembers what it felt like to be burned by the brunt of a fireball. His skin flaming, so much pain and heat it felt like being plunged into ice. And now he’d be engulfed by it. By a dragon’s flaming breath.
His eyes dart to Rodaine for support. Rodaine… who had led the world to victory once before, who had every answer Gideon ever needed, who knew his way around impossible battlefields. But Rodaine’s eyes are planted firmly on the skies. Wide and full of fear, his hand seems to tremble on his staff. And when Gideon finally looks up, it all connects.
It’s not just a dragon. A horrifying beast that could rip in two… it’s an archdemon. Rodaine had had dreams… heard the call of the Darkspawn. They had written it off as fluctuations in the Fade but no.
Maker save me. Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the righteous the lights in the shadow. Blessed are the peacekeepers-
Gideon only has seconds to make a choice. If he is truly the Herald of Andraste, then there was only one course of action. Rodaine still stands frozen, a look of terror Gideon has only seen on his face on private nights alone when he wakes up on the edge of a scream.
He straightens and shouts, “Move. Now.”
The others begin to run but Rodaine still seems stuck. Gideon shoves him roughly towards Cassandra. “Go.”
And, as if thankful the thinking was done for him, he does. Right as the blast of fire comes raining down from the skies above.
Gideon tries to run. Tries to keep up with the others, but the blast sends him hurdling into the snow, his staff far out of reach. When he looks to where he saw his partner last, all he sees is a curtain of fire.
If Gideon is truly Her Herald, he must have faith Andraste will guide Rodaine to safety with the rest. If it is his destiny to die here so he may live, he will face his fate gladly.
Yet his hands don’t stop trembling when that Darkspawn Lord lands before him. And his heart races faster when it begins to speak.
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tinknevertalks · 7 months
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Prompt 14 - If you don't stop now-
Fandom: Sanctuary
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Whisk It Real Good - Helen and Nikola chilling in a kitchen, fluff, drabble.
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tealeavesandthorns · 7 months
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Maria Bloomsco & James Bond (Brosnan)
"It doesn't matter how many times you take your shirt off around me, I will never, ever be in your bed Bond. I love you dearly but I am more than well aware of your track record with women. I'll not be a notch on anyone's bedpost."
cut to 15 years later...
Maria finds out it's Bond who saved her from capture, against orders and that he never brought it up because if she had feelings for him he didn't want them to be complicated with a feeling of gratitude for saving her. Bond is supposedly leaving, retiring from MI6 and heading off to.... well who knows where.
Maria races to find Bond to thank him, finds him thankfully in the bar accidentally confesses she might just be in love with him. Cue Bond pulling her into the best snog of her life, followed by the two of them ending up together and living... mostly.... happily ever after.
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feliciadraws · 1 year
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"Hmmm..." Ninetails slyly mused as she looked upon Waka's face, her blackened, claw-like fingernail softly tracing his jaw, eyes narrowed, sharp teeth showing in a flirtatious smirk. She had cornered the prophet at long last, hoping to execute the next stage in her plan to usurp sovereignty of Ryoshima Coast and eliminate Queen Himiko, "Lord Yami was right...you really are that handsome..."
Waka was indeed a man of many qualities, among them being his undeniably beautiful face, and was in turn a man of many things, but if there was one thing he was not, it was a fool.
He had already foreseen what Ninetails would do, how she would work her way into the inner sanctum of Himiko's palace, how she would infiltrate her council and in the end bring about the Queen of Sei-an City's demise, and he knew fully well of her demonic nature; even now, as the maleficent vixen stood before him, clothed in her human form, a shape most men would consider beautiful, but Waka knew better, he knew better than to fall victim to the demon's darkly seductive charms.
"You don't think I know what you are? You take me for a fool, madameoiselle...but you of all people should know how outward impressions can deceive..." Waka retorted, a wry smirk forming on his lips as he combated Ninetails's own seduction with a pseudo-flirtatious play of his own, almost as if to mock her. "And you are certainly as quick-witted as they say, Waka...would it be enough to save you, or Himiko..."
Himiko...the mention of her name struck a dagger to the depths of Waka's heart in that moment, an achingly bitter reminder of his prophecy of the demise of the queen who he had come to know as a close confidant, having not just served the Yamatai clan for two centuries but had watched the queen grow from a small child and had grown to be a close friend of hers...Waka's heart ached as it skipped a beat, and yet as he faced the demon he had foreseen to be Himiko's murderer, he had to swallow his pain, push it down so as to not allow the tumultuous storm that bellowed within him to cloud his thoughts in this moment.
Swallowing down whatever feeling had been upstirred by Ninetails' attempts to get under his skin, toy with his mind, he retrieved his flute from his sleeve, and readied Pillowtalk’s blade for combat.
“But…is your own wit as quick as my blade…demon?”
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TWO FOR ONE ART AND WRITING SPECIAL! I’ve been meaning to draw human!Ninetails attempting(and failing) to seduce Waka for a while, and I had a sudden burst of inspiration again because my human Ninetails has all of a sudden become a bit popular, and I’ve been on a bit of a writing kick so there! Also no I do NOT ship this, not in the least hahaha, I just had this image in my head of human!Ninetails putting the moves on Waka because let’s face it, everyone wants him, me included🥵😂, although Mei is and always will be his Girl ❤️❤️🌸✨
Also big thanks to @genderenvyforwaka and of course @savage-scoundrel69 for drawing the shapeshifting demon girlboss!
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ashklad · 9 months
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still missing his björn. that lonely winter’s season without him did sting. the coldest pyre askeladd ever experienced.
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yellowskarmory · 1 year
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i can't get this idea out of my head so hi here's a lil' fronnie idea i thought of a while ago and decided to write yesterday
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"Monty, what are we doing?" Freddy asked, as Monty dragged him through Rockstar Row. Maybe blindly following the gator’s request to meet him wasn’t the greatest idea, but he knew Monty wouldn’t do anything actually harmful, so things could only go so poorly.
“Sorry, can’t tell ya yet.” The gator responded, with no trace of actual sympathy in his voice. Freddy knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere asking the gator further questions, so he just sighed, reluctantly succumbing to the fate of being dragged wherever Monty wanted to take him.
Apparently, that was his own green room. The door opened as Monty pulled him through the roped-off walkway to the room, revealing Gregory standing in front of the door. The boy nodded towards Monty once he saw him, before dashing out into Rockstar Row.
“What are you two planning?” Freddy asked, sighing with the knowledge that Gregory was somehow involved in this plan. Those two always created trouble – he loved his son, but he could be… quite the schemer, sometimes, and Monty only enabled him.
"C’mon, Freddy, liven up a little!” Monty cheerfully responded, before taking something out from under one of the couch cushions.
“…why was Bonnie’s bowling shirt under there?” A bewildered Freddy asked.
“It’ll look great on ya!” Monty stated cheerfully, before putting it over Freddy’s head, apparently trying to put it on the bear. Freddy now had several more questions.
He knew resisting Monty and Gregory’s will was futile, though, so he just resigned himself to putting it on, figuring that they’d just take a picture of it or something.
While lost in thought, he wasn’t focused on the loud footsteps outside the room. Monty, on the order hand, did hear them, sending a message to Gregory that the plan was a go, before moving to the other side of the room.
Freddy startled when a beep sounded from the door, which opened a second later, revealing Gregory with Bonnie. The bunny went to say something, but when he saw Freddy, his mouth caught open.
“...hello, Bonnie?” Freddy asked his boyfriend. Instead of a verbal response, Bonnie’s fans kicked into overdrive, and the bunny took a wobbly step before falling… straight into Freddy.
“Are you okay?!” Freddy fretted, managing to hold up Bonnie, ignoring Gregory and Monty’s laughter.
“Y-yeah… you l-l-look gr-great-t-t…” Bonnie stammered out, before slumping completely into Freddy, his exoskeleton warm to the touch. Monty and Gregory’s laughter intensified, as the worried bear brought Bonnie to the couch to set him down.
Once set down, Bonnie powered back on, but he still just stared at Freddy for a solid minute, before finally speaking up. “You sh-should keep it, Fredbear…”
“Keep what?”
“The shirt.”
Oh.
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thecoddaughter · 8 months
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NEW PIECE <3
Inside Bad's mind during Forever's proposal...
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