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forlorn-crows · 10 months

Text

and so it goes

an aftercare fic to this one by @miasmaghoul. started out as some cute little musings about how absolutely sweet rain is to mountain after spending the entire night degrading him, turned into some weird 1.6k thing with subdrop and rain giving mountain the support i wish i had some years ago. im sorry if i've ruined the included billy joel song for you now, but it's so mountrain and i wont be hearing otherwise.

Pairing: Mountain/Rain

Tags (TW in red): edging, dom/sub, degradation, aftercare, subspace, subdrop, emotional hurt/comfort, mountain needs a hug, i wanna tear my hair out with how perfect they are,

Words: 1652

(or below the cut)

Rain’s kept him on the edge for so long, he doesn’t know if he can form the words he so desperately needs to. They sit heavy on his tongue, the appendage much too dry and big for his mouth as the water ghoul works him over with skilled and precise hands. After Rain came—a result of riding Mountain’s cock like nothing more than a toy used for his own pleasure, keeping the earth ghoul hovering on the edge of orgasm with his magick so he wouldn’t bust immediately like he was wont to do—Mountain was offered a short reprieve as he caught his breath, the vice-like grip on his pleasure retracting some.

Between the whimpering and the sniffling, Mountain probably only got one full lungful of air in before Rain’s hands were on him, stroking his stiff dick and squeezing his balls. He had nearly cracked his back with how fast he arched into it, gripping the sheets so hard his claws tore through them.

He’s close again now, balls aching, cock straining. He can hear the blood rushing through his veins, feel every stroke, every caress, every swipe of Rain’s thumb or grip of his fist. It’s agony. It’s unholy. It’s so sinful that Mountain’s fully past any coherent thought at all, floating in nothingness, skin buzzing with pain and pleasure alike.

“ S-sir, ” he slurs.

“Oh, he can speak,” Rain says cruelly. “Ask for it, and then you can cum.” The hand on his balls squeezes harshly, wringing a voice-cracked moan from Mountain’s throat. A bead of precum spurts from the head of his cock.

“Pl–ea–ssee,” he strains. “Been— hnnn —good.”

“You have,” Rain admits. “But I need a little more,” he coos, “just a little more. Need to know you really want it.”

Mountain sobs, a high, wounded sound that says everything about how deep he is. “C’n I cum, sir?” he blubbers out. Really, he’s going to cum in the next two seconds whether Rain allows him to or not, but it rushes on that much faster once he manages to spit out the request for permission.

Rain grins, all fang. Devious. Sinister. “Then squirt, whore,” he growls. His wrist twists just so, and Mountain is gone, cumming so hard his lungs burn and his throat goes raw from shouting some garbled excuse for thankyouthankyouthankyou .

Mountain's down too deep to see how much he shoots over Rain's hands, over his own stomach. Each kick of his cock wracks his entire body and tears a cry from his lips. Rain's saying something that he can't hear. But through the haze his words are sweeter, slower—if Mountain strained he could hear the praise. But he doesn't.

Rain watches in real time his mind power all the way off, eyes squeezing so tight the tears spring from the corners and his entire face turns a rosy pink. He runs soothing hands over his thighs, hoping he can at least feel the intention behind it. Soon, his cries turn to whimpers, and he melts boneless into the bed, breathing hard and deep.

It's not long after that the raspy breaths turn to snores, sleep taking him before he can even lift his head to look at Rain.

He wakes to the feeling of a cool towel against his skin. Mountain blinks open bleary eyes to see Rain gently wiping it over his chest, cleaning up any trace of mess lingering there.

He hums, smiles crookedly. Mountain's still floaty, not quite all there just yet.

"Hi love," Rain says warmly. "That feel okay?"

He nods. "S'nice," he mumbles. His voice vibrates with a purr he too slowly realizes is coming from his own chest, low and rumbly and content.

Rain laughs, a sweet, melodic sound. "Still feeling good, hm?"

Mountain's eyes track up to his face, slow and sluggish. He blinks. "Wha'?"

Rain laughs again. He places the cloth aside, leaning down instead to place equally cool kisses onto his face. Mountain chirps in surprise, purrs getting louder the more kisses he receives.

"You stay down there as long as you'd like. As long as you need. I'll be here," Rain assures.

When he sits back up, Mountain has a lovestruck look on his face. It's cute, Rain thinks. His big puppy. He tells him as much, cooing down at him until he blushes and buries his face into Rain's stomach, purrs so loud the water ghoul can feel it buzzing through him.

Rain cards his long fingers through Mountain's hair. He moves in rhythmic, hypnotic little patterns, scratching around the base of his horns and behind his ears every so often, just as he likes. Mountain's tail beats against the mattress everytime, to the water ghoul's delight.

"Rain," Mountain mumbles into his tummy. His arms curl around his waist, hugging him closer.

Rain intertwines his tail with the earth ghoul's. "Yes, my love?"

Mountain gives a pleased trill, peeking up at Rain with sleepy, affectionate eyes. "Will you sing t' me?"

"Of course, anything you want."

"The pretty one?" Mountain specifies. As if he ever asks for a different one.

Rain smiles. "The pretty one," he agrees. Mountain gives a pleased rumble and tucks his face back into Rain's stomach. The water ghoul isn’t sure why Mountain’s always referred to it as such; it’s really nothing particularly special. Though, Rain supposes, it’s become special to them. He takes a breath and softly begins to sing:

Mountain sighs and gives another pleased rumble, shuffling closer and curling his entire body around Rain’s crossed legs. He cradles the earth ghoul’s head with one hand, running the other up and down his back.

In every heart there is a room

A sanctuary safe and strong

To heal the wounds from lovers past

Until a new one comes along

And every time I've held a rose

I spoke to you in cautious tones

You answered me with no pretense

And still I feel I said too much

My silence is my self defense

As if on cue, a shiver runs down Mountain’s back as Rain’s voice pitches up. He smooths over the goosebumps as he continues:

It seems I only felt the thorns

And so it goes, and so it goes

And so will you, soon, I suppose

Rain hums the melody where the piano would play, glancing down at the ghoul curled around him. His shoulders start to shake, and he sniffles into the water ghoul’s shirt—attempting, but failing, to be silent about his tears.

But if my silence made you leave

Then that would be my worst mistake

So I will share this room with you

And you can have this heart to break

Rain stops. “Mountain, love, what’s wrong?” Immediately he shakes his head at the question, whining quietly. “Hey,” Rain urges, petting back his hair. “I’m here for you, can you try to tell me?”

Hurts , Mountain pushes into his mind.

“Where does it hurt?” Rain asks gently.

The earth ghoul pulls back an arm from around his waist, gesturing to his own chest. Rain can see his face screw up, a silent prayer to stop the oncoming sob that threatens to work its way out of his throat. In here , he says. He points weakly to the side of his head too. And here.

Mountain drops his hand down and the tears start in earnest, his entire body shaking as they worm their way out.

“Oh, love,” Rain sighs. He curls in on himself, draping over Mountain’s head and upper back. He can’t risk detangling himself just to get comfortable, less the loss of contact make him spiral further. “I’m here. It’s alright, just let it all come out.”

‘M sorry. Even the voice from his mind is watery, remorseful. All at once he crashes, the endorphins finally running out and shifting into anxiety and shame. He sobs into Rain’s torso—awful, gut-wrenching noises that shudder from his body involuntarily. Sobs that make Rain’s heart simply ache .

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers into Mountain’s hair. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

Was I good for you? The question hits Rain like a ton of bricks; he knows how Mountain is feeling, of course he does. It’s an unfortunate symptom of floating on a high for so long, of letting Rain do absolutely heinous, disgusting things to him in the name of pleasure. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less to hear, especially in such a meek, small voice.

“Shh,” he soothes. “The best. The best I could ever ask for. You always, always are.”

Mountain bawls, shaky arms gripping him like a lifeline. And Rain just holds him. Holds him with all the love he can muster, all the stability he can offer. There’s so much more he could say. But it goes unsaid, doesn’t need to be said.

Once Mountain calms a little, the sobs turning more towards hiccups and sniffles, Rain sits up again. “Not going anywhere,” he reassures before Mountain can protest. “Do you want me to tuck you under the blanket?”

The earth ghoul scrubs his face into Rain’s t-shirt in an effort to signal yes .

Rain combs through his hair. “Okay, love, I’m just gonna reach for it, and I’ll tuck you in.” He grabs the comforter from its crumpled heap at the foot of the bed and drags it up to Mountain’s huddled form. “There we go,” he soothes, adjusting it so it’s tucked nice and snug along his backside and draped half-open at his face.

Mountain chirps quietly, the closest to a thank you he can muster for his mate.

“Anything for my love,” Rain answers, placing a soft kiss on one of his horns. It may not be enough to make the unpleasantness go away, but for now it helps ease a little more of the hurt. Mountain shuffles close and sighs.

For now, it’s enough.

#the band ghost #ficlet #not really but w/e #fanfic #ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #mountrain #mountain/rain #rain/mountain #tw subdrop #aftercare #Spotify

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sansxfuckyou · 6 months

Text

I've got the beats, I've got the bass (I've got the treats, for you to taste)

Summary: Floyd doubts there'll be a lot of him left to save when his brothers find him

Warnings: cannibalism, gore, amputation, Floyd is going through it, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: inspired by the Troll Twins AU by @ohposhers, im aware the cannibalism post was like, not official to the au, but the inner phan demanded i write this. title from DJ Whore by S3RL, hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checking out the ao3 port

edit 2023.12.28: WE GOT A SECOND CHAPTER OUT NOW!! it displays a small amount of comfort edit 2023.12.30: the third and final chapter has been posted, it's also been turned into a series because I have so many ideas about it

It's a little bit twisted, and a lot bit fucked up.

But they can't sing, they're Trolls and they can't sing, maybe if they were Classical it wouldn't be a problem. But they're born Pop and they can barely hold a note despite the fact they want to be famous so fucking badly. So they turn to the next best option, run away to Mount Rageous and make it big with a bunch of jello jointed freaks.

Of course, they still need an iota of talent to make it with even a bit of success.

Their method for getting that talent is beyond cruel, beyond human, beyond anything that could be conceived by a Pop Troll. But Velvet's everything but a Pop Troll these days, sadistic, uncaring, greedy- she'll get what she wants and she'll take her brother with her. She'll take her brother and the first unfortunate thing that has talent at that, figure out how to use that talent for herself and keep it.

Veneer always stared, unable to do anything as she worked, "Vel, this is-"

"Genius? I know," Velvet always answered with as she shucked slices of meat from the Troll under their ownership, paper thin and raw on a plate she'd hand to Veneer, "Eat up."

And he always did, he always fucking ate it. He always took his half and she always took her half, rejuvenating the talent they lacked with a small tray of raw meat from their own kin. She smiled this darling smile the entire time their captive watched them devour him, and Veneer tried to do the same.

"You two are fucked," Floyd argued as Velvet would bandage his arms and block off the bleeding because she had some civility despite everything. He'd clench and unclench his fist just to make sure he still could considering how spindly he was with how much they took away from him.

Velvet just giggles, "Maybe we'll take off your whole arm next, let you bleed out a bit," She traces a sharp nail across the joint of his shoulder. He shudders and tries to jerk away, the cuffs on his wrists make it shockingly hard to do so.

They get famous while he wastes away, chunk by chunk. They're erring closer to having a fame that reaches outside of Mount Rageous and he's erring closer to them having to nibble on his bones for his talent. The idea almost makes him laugh, but then he remembers that laughing hurts with how frail he is.

It's when Velvet enters the room with a hacksaw and a breaking knife that he cries for the first time. Tears welling up in his eyes and he can't bring himself to stifle them or wipe them away even though the cuffs are gone. He just sobs, aware of the fact that this is it, they're finally going to lop off his head.

"Oh don't be a baby," Velvet chided as she grabbed her marker, bright red, paint instead of ink, and dragged it along Floyd's thigh, just above his knee. She left a dotted line around his leg and he tries to stop crying.

"Do you have any anesthetic?" Floyd asked, trying to be smug.

Velvet gives this falsely contemplative hum, "Maybe," She lays down the jagged end of the hacksaw at the line, "But probably not."

Then she starts to cut, back and forth across the flesh with enough pressure to snap a rib. Teeth tear him open and he yowls, nerve endings fraying as his blood pools around him. It's shiny, not glittery per se, but definitely holding an almost opalescent sheen due to his Pop origins. It makes Velvet's mouth water, the fresh scent hitting her nose and she could tear into him with her own teeth right then and there but she doesn't.

No, she just forces further down through tendon and fat alike. His meat is both lean and marbled quite nicely with the diet they've been feeding him. Just enough to keep him alive, but fatty and carbohydrate heavy to make his flesh taste better and less tough. She presses the breaking knife beside the hacksaw when she hits the knob of the femur and presses hard until she hears something splinter. The scream accompanying it confirms her suspicions that she broke it as she cuts through marrow without any remorse.

He just whimpers and bites his tongue, hot tears still roll down his face as he watches her try and tear it the rest of the way. Twisting and yanking and it hurts so fucking bad but he can't do much to stop her. It comes off with this terrible sound and he wails as Velvet just lops off the skin with the breaking knife, aware she'll have to go at it more finely later.

"Shut up," Velvet demanded, tossing aside the leg and grabbing the bandage, "I'm not gonna let you die, or sleep through it."

He just nods as she bandages up his jagged stump, not even bothering to slice it smooth with her knife so the nerve endings aren't everywhere and torn every way possible. She bandages him with some semblance of care, he is their talent, he is their guinea pig, she can't just let him die. That'd be too nice of her considering how much talent is left on his bones, how much skill they can pilfer from his flesh.

"Hey Vel! We're running out of seasoning!" It's Veneer whose shouting down the hallways and Floyd hears.

"So I'm not good enough raw?" Floyd questioned, trying so very, very hard to be smug despite the pain coursing through every inch of his body.

Velvet scoffed, taking the leg and standing up, "Don't flatter yourself."

There's this stench of decay in Floyd's holding room by the time the twins are actually taken down. Even at that they aren't really taken down, just put in the slammer by their ever present assistant Crimp who would occasionally sneak some iron supplements into his food. She was nice, she was trampled on but she was nice, learned how to play ukulele to Floyd's singing and the such.

But she couldn't put back the flesh they stripped him of, tearing him down to his bones and even at that lopping limbs off. He's missing a leg below the knee and his entire right arm, shoulder down, and the rest of him is worryingly thin. Not because he was starved, far from him being starved, by the time he started running out of meat on his bones they upped his diet to try and make him last. It was futile really, they still tore off his skin and the flesh underneath it till all he had was bones with a paper thin layer of nerves and red wrapped in bandages.

The floor and walls are thoroughly saturated in the scent of his blood, his tears, and the medications they used to keep him from dying prematurely. Tranexamic acid to thicken his blood so he wouldn't bleed out. Midazolam to help him keep breathing even with the frailty in his everything. Benzodiazepines to stop his anxiety and force his muscles to ease up so his flesh wouldn't be so tense. Morphine, acetaminophen, risperidone, the list went on and on, he's pretty sure the nights he spent vomiting them up only hastened his wasting.

Dying would've been better than this though. Being torn apart, picked apart, used for his talent, having the life ripped out of him. At least none of his brothers had to see him like this, at least Branch didn't have to see him so ruined. He'd be the worst brother ever if Branch had to see him like this, if any of them did. Traumatized for life, he doubts he could live with himself if any of them got nightmares from seeing him in such a zombified state.

He winces when the door opens and light filters in, the rush of uncontaminated air doesn't reach him through the overpowering scent of decay. He can barely make out the silhouettes as Trolls, and instead of being defiant like he usually is, he crumbles. He can't fight it anymore, he's on his last leg to a literal degree and he knows he'll die if they take anymore.

"I'm out of talent," He begged, tears welling up once again, "I'm dead, just look at me," His voice catches on a sob.

They take one step further in, "Floyd?"

Floyd barely recognizes the voice, but he still sobs, even harder knowing it's one of his brothers, "I told you it was a trap, John," He's laughing now, it hurts so much but he's laughing regardless. He tries to shove himself up but everything hurts too much to do so, "Why did you bring our brothers?"

"Cause last time you were in a diamond holding cell! Now you're in a fucking closet that smells like shit," John snapped before stepping even further in, one step at a time. He was still getting used to the low light, his three younger brothers followed in suite.

"Don't! Just, leave!" It's a plea, it's the closest Floyd can get to a demand. He desperately thrusts out a paw like it'll stop them even though he knows it won't, and the action rubs the bandages against his raw nerves the wrong way. There's a hiss of agony, "Please, don't."

"We came here to save you," Bruce butted in with.

"I left my tribe to find you, Floyd," Clay said, stepping more gingerly than the others, "We're taking you home."

"Do you want to stay here?" Branch questioned.

And Floyd just sobbed, raising his paw to his face to try and hide himself away from them, hitching his good leg to his chest to hide the bandages. He whimpered and cried as they finally stepped close enough to see him in all of his ruination. The footsteps stop and he knows they're all riddled with disgust, riddled with fear, with regret, with shame. Their brother who looks like he was sent through the wood chipper, their brother who promised he'd come back, their brother, destroyed.

"I told you to leave," He whispers the word, eyes shut and body limp because he can't bear to see their disgust, "I fucking told you."

Paws gently lift him up, cradling him in a set of arms and he keeps sobbing, curling into whoever held him. He doesn't know which one it is because they all wear vests and open front shirts, in the past at least. He just knows he's holding on tight and apologizing for all the blood he's getting on their fur despite the repetition of 'its okay' being spoken back softly.

-/-/-/-

Floyd is out cold in the back of John Dory's van, strapped down with strips of the emergency roll of scrap booking felt that Poppy always brings with her. Branch has never been more pleased in his entire life that his girlfriend is a weirdo who always needs to scrap book because it's keeping his brother secured. He still feels absolutely sick to the stomach and he's not sure if it's the vile smell of rotting blood or the disgust with what Velvet and Veneer had done. All of them feel nauseated.

"Is he gonna make it?" Clay is the one who breaks the silence.

"Of course he will, we have the best doctors across any genre," Branch snapped back with, the sharpness of his voice unintentional.

Clay shrinks back just a bit, but shoots something back just as sharply, "Sorry to hit a nerve."

"Can we not argue right now?" Poppy asked, leaning between the two with this nervous look on her face, "Please?"

Branch crosses his arms and slumps against the wall of the van, Clay mirrors the motions.

Bruce clears his throat, "Poppy's right, we should just get Floyd under medical care as soon as possible."

"Is he even awake?!" John shouted from the front, eyes still firmly fixed on the road but body riddled with concern and fear and so many other things.

"He passed out!" Bruce shouted back.

Branch leans up against Poppy, "I'm scared," It's a whisper, it barely comes out at all. He never thought he'd admit an emotion as vulnerable as fear to a Troll as loud as Poppy.

Poppy just wraps an arm around his shoulders before whispering back, "It'll be okay," even though she doesn't know if it will.

"What if it isn't?" Branch asked just as quietly.

Poppy doesn't have an answer.

There's this low groan from the back of the van, no one up front dares to move because Bruce is already back there. They don't want to send Floyd ricocheting into another freak out, "Where am I?"

"In John's van," Bruce answered with.

Floyd tried to move but he couldn't, panic shot through him. His breathing hastened just a bit, "Why am I tied down?" He tries to quell the fear resting so heavily on his voice, weighing down on his calm and cool exterior.

"Because you're not doing so hot, it's for safety," Bruce said, trying to keep his voice soft, slipping into dad mode without even realizing it, "We'll take them off as soon as we get home, okay?"

Floyd gave this weak semblance of a nod, "Okay, is Branch here?"

The aforementioned brother scrambles to get to the back of the van, "Of course I am."

"Sorry you had to see me so messed up," Floyd apologized and Branch feels like crying at the comment because it's so fucked up that Floyd is saying sorry for being destroyed when he could do nothing.

"Floyd, it's fine, you couldn't," Branch tries to speak, he really does, but a whole lot of nothing comes up. He just holds onto Floyd's paw desperately tight, "We should've been there sooner."

"You had your own lives," Floyd countered with, "Thanks for saving me anyways."

"We'll always be there to save you, Floyd," Bruce supplied in place of Branch who was just rendered nonverbal.

"Is he gonna walk again?" Branch asked.

The doctor shook her head, "Even with prosthetics using Funk technology and Rock materials, he still doesn't have enough meat on his bones to properly move them to their full extent."

"Can't you give him a graft?" Clay asked, "I read about it, skin grafts, muscle grafts, take some flesh and use it somewhere else."

"I absolutely would but the thing is," She gives this sigh before gesturing to Floyd's body.

He's near skeletal, not enough of the right bio chemicals in him to scab up everywhere, he's torn up and raw. With the bandages removed he looks even more zombie, even if he is asleep over a hospital cocktail with light analgesia. It wasn't supposed to knock him out, just ease the pain, but apparently he was destroyed enough that the small amount of alcohol did knock him down. His arm is as thin as Clay's, in some places stripped to the bone. His good leg and his other thigh have chunks ripped out of them, whole sections of muscle and tendon alike removed but not quite to the bone there. His ribs are pronounced, so are his collar bones, and the crests of his pelvis, not enough flesh to keep the sharpness hidden.

"There isn't anything to take and use elsewhere. He's a shell of his former self, if we're lucky we can stabilize him and keep him on light foods until he fills out a bit. Then he'll be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, if we're lucky he'd be able to use a prosthetic with crutches on a good day," The doctor explained. A deep sense of horror knotted itself onto the brothers stomachs. Not enough flesh to do a graft, of course there isn't enough leftover, he's a skeleton for fucks sake! They're glad Floyd isn't awake to hear about his brand new future (they don't know he'll take anything so long as he isn't in the hands of Velvet and Veneer).

John Dory won't stand for it, "Hey doc, if you have a donor with the same blood type or whatever, it could work, theoretically speaking," He's grasping at straws really, but he doesn't want his baby brother to live a life without dancing, or going on walks, or any other thing that he can think of. He'd sooner die than use a wheel chair, his life was the mountains, his life was rough terrain. And even though he doesn't know if Floyd feels the same, he doesn't want his brother robbed.

"Are you insane?" Was what Bruce said before the doctor could answer.

"I was in the woods living off of swamp scum and bird carcass for twenty years, I absolutely am," He presses a digit to Bruce's chest as he speaks and shoves him back, "I want my brother to walk with us, to dance with us."

"He can do it in a wheel chair," Bruce countered with, "Medical advances have been made, we've come really far in twenty years."

"Guys," Clay butted in with, they both snapped to glare at him, "Let the doctor speak before you tear your heads off."

"It could work, hypothetically, but if his body rejects the graft for some inane reason he might not make it through the night. Although he might not make it either way given his current condition," The doctor said, "It's up to you four to call the shots because he's out cold."

They all share a tense glance.

"We all have the same blood type," Branch got out quietly.

"Blood type O, universal donor, can only take other O's," Clay tacked on.

"And our fur would match his, he wouldn't look totally frankensteined," John said.

Bruce stayed quiet.

"It's up to you, Bruce, this could work," Branch pressed.

"Fine, just don't take too much off of me," Bruce said, "I have a wife who would not appreciate me coming home butchered."

"Bruce, this is about Floyd," Clay said rather sternly, "We all know your wife will love you no matter how bloody you are."

"Guess some things never change, like your whole 'gotta look good' thing," John teased.

The doctor cleared her throat and all eyes were on her, "If we want to have enough time we'll need to put you under for surgery in the next hour or so, the clock is ticking."

"I'm doing it,"

"Count me in,"

"Me too,"

"So am I,"

-/-/-/-

All of them are unconscious when they're stolen from, strips of flesh taken from their serratus anterior and latissimus dorsi so no one has to see the scars when it's over. They're carefully cut open and extracted, a little bit of skin came with it because Floyd didn't have enough skin himself these days. At least when he still had the bandages on they could lie and say he had scabs and skin, lie and say the stench was because he hasn't had a shower in months, not because his blood refused to dry properly and rot and infect instead.

Mismatched muscles are stitched into the gaping lacerations across his body, surgical glue used around the edges just to make sure. Patches of his brothers skin from where their flesh was taken are stitched atop to try and hide the raw flesh, bright red and shimmery, it might help stimulate his body into trying to regrow his own skin. Otherwise he'll always have scars a deeper hue than his blood beside skin held on with stitches like he's one of Frankenstein's monsters, unfinished and abandoned.

Except his brothers are risking their own hide to try and bring him back from his virtually undead state, so close to death he might as well bury himself. He has four brothers letting themselves be butchered so he'll be able to move his remaining limbs, so he'll be able to live without the risk of developing a medication tolerance too strong. He has four brothers that are giving a doctor permission to take a piece out of them to sew into him instead, maybe if he were awake he'd say something about how poetic that is, how they'll never be apart again.

But he isn't awake, instead he's blissfully asleep on a small shot that was supposed to make him more sociable and numb the pain. He passed out rather fast after taking it, and then his brothers could begin discussing the truth of the matter without Floyd. If he was awake when they brought up the graft they know he would defy it, they know he would say it isn't right for them to make that sacrifice. They also know their brother would waste away without their help, waste away without any extra meat, exposed bone doesn't scream 'healthy' in Pop Village.

There's an extraction from Bruce first, tactfully cut from his lower back and laid atop Floyd's rib cage. Slid over top the painfully thin muscles in thin slices, some if it was placed along his hips to add padding to his painfully prominent bones. To make him less skeletal, it was mostly cosmetic on that front, but if he tripped and fell he could shatter like glass with how exposed they were. He'd shatter and there'd be so much blood it would leave someone scarred for life, so much whimpering because punctured lungs leaves no room for screaming.

The doctor takes from John Dory next because of how insistent he was on the procedure, how insistent he was to make sure Floyd could have flesh again. It's taken from one thigh, a solid chunk taken out and replaced with an almost jelly substance. He'd collapse when he walked without a substitute of some sort, he'll be reduced to crutches until he gets used to it. A consequence perhaps, or just cruel fate that he has the perfect cut of meat to fill one of the larger gaps in Floyd's good leg. He's restitched with most of his skin, but again, a good chunk of it goes to his little brother, to keep him from drying in the sun.

"What's happening?" It's Floyd, waking up strapped down and held open with someone holding a piece of meat. He instantly goes to thrash, scared, afraid, oh god he thought he escaped. What a cruel dream, imagining his brothers would actually pull through, he's still stuck.

"Calm down, Floyd," The doctor said, "We're in a hospital, giving you a surgery, your safe, your brothers are safe."

Floyd tries to nod, "Why am I awake?"

"Analgesia knocked you out, it just wore off," She said, grabbing a needle, "So please, hold still."

He does as told, needle sliding through his skin with ease. It only stings a little bit as he anesthetic pushes through his veins rather sluggishly. The doctor falters on using another needle to actually knock him out and only chooses against it when he drifts back to sleep. There's a long pause of no motion, no advances, just in case he wakes back up again, but when he doesn't she continues.

Placing John's flesh into the cavity of Floyd's leg and stitching it closed, surgical glue to keep it in place after he's been closed up. The stitches almost match his fur, thread off by a single shade, just a bit darker than he is. And it keeps staining on the blood inside of him when the needle goes through, keeps picking up that red pigment that shines like liquid gold. She'll rinse it clean after the surgery is done, after he's patched up using chunks of his brothers who love him so much they'd tear themselves apart for him.

She hesitates to take anything off of Clay because he's already spindly. But he wants to give as well, he's the one who remembered their blood types were all O despite the odds. He gets the exterior layer of skin from his lower back shucked off unforgivingly, he's too thin to take his muscle, that'd put him in danger. The flesh is stitched onto the nub just above Floyd's knee, where he was amputated without any reason. The jagged gore won't connect to a prosthetic very well, it's smoothed with a scalpel before the skin is put into place. Definitely not the average surgical move, but whatever it takes to keep a patient alive, including slicing off bits of meat in need of replacement. It's rotten flesh anyways, always exposed to air and never allowed to properly heal, it reeks of death like the rest of his body.

Branch is the final one taken from, strips out of his thighs spliced into Floyd's arms length wise. They fill out nicely, rest atop the bone in such a fashion they look like they belonged in his arm instead of Branch's leg. The hue of the flesh and the hue of the skin didn't match, the gray that Branch experienced still held strong even upon being cut up and stitched to a new body. It really makes Floyd look chimeric, like a rotten, decaying, beast of mythology that shouldn't be able to exist. And if he makes it out alive he'll fit the description perfectly because his heart rate should've dropped off the face of the planet by now, but it hasn't, he's still alive somehow.

He's still alive and so far his body isn't rejecting the sacrifices his brothers are making for him. It's a miracle really, them getting him to the hospital on time to get him stabilized for a surgery is also miracle. And maybe the defiance John Dory held over letting Floyd be forced into a wheel chair will bring advances to the medical field, probably not. But this in itself is amazing, the fact he's getting pulled together by thread and woke up not coughing blood is absurd.

Maybe when he wakes up at the designated time he still won't cough up blood.

-/-/-/-

John Dory wakes up last, "What happened?" He swings his leg over the edge of his bed and hisses because it hurts real bad.

Bruce is face down on his bed, "We gave Floyd a muscle graft, remember?"

"Right," John answered with before going to stand, he instantly collapsed, heavily leaning on the small table. Crutches, he grabs them instantly to prop himself up, knees shaking, "Where's Floyd?"

"I'm over here," Came Floyd's voice from the other side of the room, he was hobbling over with his new leg. It looked sleek, a lovely metallic sheen to it due to the materials and the Funk craftsmanship ties it together, the shape similar enough to an organic leg. He's using a crutch to walk over, fresh flesh in his thigh sore, but working with a bit of weight alleviation.

"You look great man!" Elation is heavy on John's voice as he tries to take a step over with the crutches. He nearly falls, "Whose are these?"

"Yours, the substitute for the chunk they took out of you is still fresh. It's gonna take time to walk 'normally' with it, but crutches are easy after a bit," Floyd explained, "Thanks."

John sits back down on his bed, "Well jeez, your welcome bro, but I may have to take that flesh back if I can't walk."

"You're lucky you aren't in a wheel chair," Bruce stated boldly, rolling onto his side just a bit, "The doc said that it was almost so bad you'd need one, you're lucky."

"Say, where's Branch? And Clay?" John asked, changing the subject with ease.

Floyd shrugged with one shoulder, the prosthetic not responding as much as desired, "I'm pretty sure they're in the room next too us, still asleep. When I asked the doctor she said they were still alive."

"They fucking better be, I'll crush her skull with these stupid crutches if they aren't," John snarled out.

"See, you're already in love with them," Floyd teased, "I'm sure Branch will outfit them to your style once he's done with his recovery."

Bruce gives a laugh, "Karma."

"Shut up," He pointed the end of his crutch at Bruce threateningly.

Bruce just batted it away with his paw, "How dangerous."

"Guys, neither of you are in condition to get in fight,"

"Beg to differ,"

"I could kick his ass no matter what,"

Floyd sighed, taking a couple disjointed steps closer to take a seat at the foot of Bruce's bed. He leans his crutch on the edge, "You could not, you're a dad."

"Makes me even better at tossing little shits around," Bruce countered with.

John is quick to try and breach the small gap, he ends up face first in Bruce's bed. It garners a loud laugh, "Shut up," it's a muffled plea, "How long are we gonna be in this place for?"

"A considerable while," Floyd offered nervously, "It varies between us. Me, you, and Branch are gonna be here the longest because we need some physical rehab, might be permanent for you and Branch, it will for me."

Bruce hoists up John fully onto the mattress, "I'm regretting saving your life," Bruce clips the back of his head for that comment.

Floyd just laughs, "Gee, I love you too."

#troll twins au #trolls world tour #trolls fanfic #trolls floyd #velvet and veneer #trolls #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw gore #tw body horror #tw cannibalism

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xoxiu · 1 year

Text

twinkle - ot7 x reader

chapter 04 table of contents masterlist

summary: she had just wanted attention, that’s why she kept texting the strange number, updating him on everything in her life. little did she know how dangerous this relationship actually was. it had been jimin’s idea to kidnap the girl, but the ability to travel across the world to actually do it had been all hoseok’s doing. convenient how some things work, right? they knew that they were destined to have their baby with them, whether she wanted it or not.

tags/warnings: kidnapping, forced age regression, spanking, noncon, mafia au, drug use, stockholm syndrome, caregiver!bts, little!reader, nonsexual, diapers, panic attacks, fluff and angst, sickfic, referenced child abuse, unrequited love

a/n: i wrote this fic in 2018 on ao3 and wattpad, but im putting it here for archival reasons ♡

The van pulled into the hotel parking lot, and Ophelia still slept. The drugs had made her sick and sleepy, and Ophelia realized that if she slept, her nausea went away. She didn't want to sleep since that made her susceptible to whatever her kidnappers would do to her, but the internal ickiness and external weakness was just too much.

"I'll give Lia her bottle if the rest of you load up the van," Seokjin said, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt so he could move to sit next to the sleeping girl.

"I thought we were going to stay at the hotel for a bit before flying back?" Jimin asked, stepping out of the van, desperate to stretch his legs after the long car ride. Once Taehyung got out and the sleeping boys in the back woke up, Seokjin took Tae's spot next to Ophelia, running a hand through her hair with a smile.

"No, I want to get her home soon. She's looking a little pale," Seokjin brushed a hand over Ophelia's forehead and cheek, noting just how hot and clammy it felt. The girl whimpered and turned her head away from Jin in her sleep, causing Jin to give a small coo at the action.

Once the rest had left the van to pack their things, Seokjin unbuckled Ophelia from her car seat and maneuvered her so she was now sitting on his lap. The movement caused her eyes to open in panic, and her breathing to increase to the point where she was nearly hyperventilating.

Seokjin noticed the beginning of her panic attack and began to gently bounce her. Ophelia eventually ended up choking on her breaths and sobs, but willed herself to continue to fight despite her limbs not cooperating with her mind. The chloroform started to wear off, as Ophelia could think much clearer and make out small words.

"N-no..." Ophelia choked out, closing her eyes as if that would make everything stop and disappear. "L-let go..." Seokjin only continued to shush her, put her head under his chin, and reached down to grab a bottle of water and a baby bottle. With the baby bottle in her vision, Ophelia noticed white powder resting at the bottom and feared that it wasn't formula mix. Once the water was poured in and the color remained clear instead of a milky white, Ophelia's panicking increased as the water was drugged.

"Open up, baby," he said, holding the bottle to Ophelia's tightly shut lips, "Open up for Eomma."

Ophelia was caught off-guard by the man referring to himself as 'Eomma,' and Seokjin took to opportunity to slip the bottle into her unwilling mouth. Ophelia refused to drink from the bottle, fighting the natural instinct to suck, and attempted to maneuver the rubber nipple out of her mouth. This only resulted in the water that was forced out due to gravity to smear all over her lips and into her mouth. This caused Jin to click his tongue in disapproval and put slight pressure on the bottle, forcing more water to flow into Ophelia's mouth. Ophelia still refused to swallow, having the water slowly fill her mouth, leaking out from where her lips were parted around the baby bottle.

Not removing pressure from the bottle, Seokjin began to gently blow in Ophelia's face, triggering her to swallow. Ophelia shut her eyes tightly and unconsciously swallowed, causing her to also begin suckling on the bottle. Realizing that some of the white powder was now in her, she admitted defeat and quickly drank the water, wanting to get out of the situation sooner. Being in the car seat was much better than being on the strange man's lap.

With her eyes closed in an attempt to block out her current situation, Ophelia didn't notice another man come back to the car until he spoke.

"Awh, someone's tired," the deep voice said, gently brushing his finger across Ophelia's cheek. Ophelia opened her eyes and glared at the man, recognizing him as the one previously in the passenger's seat. He smiled in return, laughing slightly at the girl's annoyance.

"She should be out again soon," Seokjin said, "We have a long flight and I want her asleep for most of it. Tae said she should be out for twelve hours after her bottle." Ophelia began to internally panic; she didn't know what would happen to her in those hours she'd be unconscious.

Soon enough all the water was out of the bottle. Jin removed the rubber nipple from Ophelia's mouth and grabbed the rag that Namjoon held out to him to wipe the water all over Ophelia's mouth. When his rag-covered finger brushed over her lips, Ophelia bit down on the fabric, causing Jin to pull his finger back. Instead of the expected glare and anger, Ophelia was shocked when the man simply chuckled before continuing.

"Silly baby," Jin threw the rag back into the bag and tapped the tip of the girl's nose, "Eomma's finger isn't your bottle."

Ophelia groaned and flung her head back as if the small movements she could make was enough to escape the man's grasp. This only resulted in Jin cooing and rocking her gently. Already feeling the effects of the drug (a downside of being a lightweight), Ophelia sleepily looked outside the van at the clear blue sky and the other men carrying bags. The bright sunlight hurt her sensitive eyes, but she now refused to close them, fearing what would happen when she fell asleep. They said that they were flying somewhere, probably somewhere far away where no one would find her.

It's not like anyone would look for me, Ophelia thought. My parents would do anything to get me away from them.

Seokjin noticed Ophelia staring at Namjoon and smiled, figuring that she was quickly warming up to them since her face didn't have the glare it previously did. Namjoon, however, wasn't paying much attention. He was too distracted by his phone to see little doe eyes staring at him.

"Are you looking at Appa?" Seokjin asked the girl, giving her a small bounce on his lap. This caught Namjoon's attention, who looked to find Ophelia's stare on him. He smiled, but realized that she wasn't exactly staring at him- it was almost like she was staring through him, deep in thought and pretending he wasn't there. His smile was taken over by a concerned glance towards Jin, which was ignored for Jin was too busy staring down at the girl in his lap.

Ophelia, internally, was at war with herself. On one hand, she realized she no longer had to deal with her parents. No more yelling at three in the morning. No more cleaning up broken beer bottles before her brother woke up so he wouldn't step on any stray glass. No more being the only mature adult of the house. No more.

But that also means she basically left her siblings to fend for themselves. Henry was only a middle-schooler who grew up relying on Ophelia. While neither of them would admit it, Henry really had no clue how to take care of himself and Rose.

And Rose.

Rose. Ophelia left Rose alone. Ophelia felt her panic internalize to the point she was so tense she could explode. How long had she been gone? Rose was overdue for a feeding, and the only thing Ophelia could do was hope that Henry got home from school okay. Sometimes on his walk home, he decided to stop by a friend's home or corner store for a snack. While Ophelia never seemed to care, this time she hoped Henry came straight home and found Rose alone and at least fed and changed her.

Someone would call the police. While Ophelia wasn't exactly popular, she had a lot of good friends (some of who could be considered 'popular'). Once someone realized that she wasn't answering her texts or came to school, someone would get suspicious and call in. Maybe Henry would as soon as he got home, and Ophelia would be found quicker than the plane could take off. That was most likely impossible, seeing as even Ophelia didn't know where she was.

Unable to fight against the threat of sleep any longer, Ophelia closed her tear-filled eyes.

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official-seriously-actually · 3 months

Text

me: oh look ao3 is down.

me: is this...a sign...to be productive??? To get off the internet???

also me: ...nahhhh *proceeds to mourn the death of ao3 and await its resurrection on tumblr instead*

#ao3 #AO3 #the archive is down and im sobbing #archive of our own #but genuinely what do i do

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case-57-with-the-enclosure · 11 months

Text

✒️ Fic Dissecting Time

My highlights for lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) chapter 1, by @definitelynotshouting

definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting) on AO3

This dissection will consist of highlights and commentary on the transcribed fragments.

Please be sure to read the tags and cws, we're going by dead dove rulings.

Spoilers ahead.

This is by no means anything formal- it's the writer equivalent of putting all your toys on a single line.

The author has a very lovely rant here that gives the piece context- but im sure you know that, if you read their notes 👁 please read this fic. then come back and agree with me.

===================================

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP, 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Character: Charles | Grian, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Oliver Brotherhood |

Mumbo Jumbo, Xisumavoid (Video Blogging RPF); Pearl | PearlescentMoon; TangoTek (Video Blogging RPF); Hermitcraft Ensemble

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Charles | Grian, Charles | Grian Angst, Watcher Charles | Grian,

Watchers, Charles | Grian Needs a Hug, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal

Thoughts, Starvation, Eating Disorders, Parasites, <-- the watchers

are parasitic, Body Horror, Trauma, Eventual Happy Ending, Recovery,

Self-Harm, my guy be in SITUATIONS, Winged Charles | Grian, Identity

Issues, every single tag i add makes me realize how hard im making

grian go through it, rip king you'll get a happy ending i promise,

Misunderstandings, Worldbuilding, sooo much worldbuilding, Not RPF,

Not Beta Read

===================================

its been a while since I've read angst for the sake of hurting and yknow what? i missed this feeling of controled despair.

And, Grian realizes, with a flicker of– of something undefinable (he can't say it's excitement, because he isn't actually keen to die– but it's something. A bit like hope, a lot like loss, in the shape of grief and threaded, ultimately, with desperate relief) (...)"

(sobbing, wheezing, heart-ached) what the fuck. what the actual fuck.

The devastation yawns in the deepest pits of his heart, in his very code, and threatens to tear him apart at the seams.

"the devastation yawns" alright. next time just gut me with a knife it'll be quicker than DESINTEGRATING MY SOUL LIKE THIS???? i love that, i love that so badly.

"Grian grits his teeth, then lifts his hand and opens his mouth, sinking them into the base of his thumb. Copper sings on his tongue; the spike of burning pain forces his eyes inward, drawing his attention and keeping it there as blood fills his mouth, thick and tacky."

AUGH thats it!!!! thats what this fic tastes like- burning copper, not as in copper that's been burnt, but as in copper that leaves a painful heat as it goes down your throat, that you can feel cruising your chest and guts as it makes its way down your stomach. (positive).

"(...) he chokes out, and that seems to break whatever trance Xisuma, Pearl, and Tango have been in this entire time. They rush forward, eating the distance between them in rapid strides, until they're all crouched around Grian."

gods i LOVE the use of "eating" here. its so visual and tangible i love it

"Voices rise around him in a cacophonous symphony, but Grian no longer has the strength to parse them. He sinks, dribbling into the abyss like molasses from a bottle. The darkness consumes him. He does not dream."

"He does not dream" my stomach hurts this is so good. tasty tasty angst. also molasses. the molassiest word ever.

===================================

Overall feelings on this first chapter:

that was. so tactile and textured- i need to hold it in my hands and press my palms into it, and let the spikes in its texture hurt my hands a little. its so good, the wording makes it so engaging and leaves you enraptured on its flowing narrative- you sure did put that guy in situations huh

if you've read all the way over here: hi ü hope you don't mind this block of text of cero coherent analysis. i had fun.

i have to attend to my life now before i run late, so I'll return to this piece and its dissection soon (hopefully in some hours?)

#i didn't know I'd do another one of this but they're so much fun #and i plan on doing the other 3 chapters so like :>#I'll figure out the tags for this sideblog later #✒️ fic dissection 🔬

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risetherivermoon · 4 months

Text

----

“He shall be called Hen,” Bear spoke, moving to sit down next to his beloved. “Hen Ry’Oak.” Autumn focused on Hen’s face, deciding not to pay any attention to the man to her left. Then, Bear wrapped his devilish hands around the child’s body and took him from Autumn’s hold. She gasped, cried out and reached for the boy. Her son has been ripped away from her, she has lost him, his innocence will be stripped down and he will have to suffer.

Autumn was not able to protect her own son for even a few minutes. Hen cried, and Autumn began to sob once more. Hen deserved a better life but Autumn was trapped, she will never be able to give him what he deserves. She mustn't love him, for it will be both of their downfalls. But for those few moments of holding the weak boy in her arms, Autumn got to pretend she was a mother. Bear opens his mouth, facing the healer. Autumn clutches at her chest.

----

hi im crazy and this is self indulgent!

have a fic about oakvale being a cult on earth and henry starting to recall his memories and stuff lol

this is glennry centric but also has some polydads & hencedes bits

enjoy ✨

(fic title from V. Universe by The Microphones)

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dear-mortality · 4 days

Text

The shepherd prince

Chapter sixteen: stampede!!

Chapters

Enfys woke up refreshed after getting proper sleep without stress or anxiety. Solving the situation with ether helped them alot.

They wore their clothes and headed straight to the Archives

"Good morning." He exclaimed after opening the door

Everyone groaned in unison

"Oh HUSH i don't like being here anymore than you like me being around." Enfys walked over to a table and picked up a book on top of it, while skimming through it quickly enfys mumbled something under their breath. "You're all lucky im in a good mood today."

Enfys cleared her throat and closed the book quickly.

"So what about that lead? The mysterious figure that roamed the countryside a few months ago?"

"We checked that out" answered a woman dressed in many accents of white and gold. "apparently it was an old lady with memory problems leaving her house and forgetting where it was."

"DANG IT- wait is she ok?"

"Yeah thankfully" exclaimed a person while walking with a bunch of books and scrolls barely balanced on top of eachother. "a doctor was present somehow and she's been doing better with their medication."

"A doctor??? Here???" Enfys seemed shocked at the statement. "Why wasn't i notified of someone of such high ranking entering zatieon? Even if you lot didn't know; someone in the magic guild must've."

"Uhhh maybe because you're not exactly easy to get a hold of. In the last two days you've been here you've unconsciously closed like 5 windows."

"I DID WHAT?!?" Enfys hastily brought out a dagger and ripped a huge hole into space and it showed someone on the other side

It was a lady with long curly hair, clear olive toned skin, a small button nose, an exquisite robe filled with colours and shapes. She had a wand in her hand and she seemed to have been doing some work around her place. She didn't notice enfys at first but once she noticed him she showed a face of disgust and he showed the same amount of disdain on his face.

"Wow. How did you swing your dagger that wrong? Last time this happened you were drunk, sobbing and trying to call your now ex partner." She said in a sarcastic tone and and a smirk with her eyebrow twitching

"I was trying to reach my coven. I did not mean to open a window to a tropical bird with bad manners." Enfys answered with a cheerful expression.

"Uh-huh. Consider yourself lucky you got to see me in my new robe. Anyway your coven is already on its way to you so you have to worry about that." She answered and turned around getting back to what she was doing

"Im sorry what-" before he finished saying anything she snapped the portal shut

Everyone in the room was either horrified or snickering

Enfys turned around slowly and reached for a chair and sat there with a look on their face like they've seen hell with their own eyes.

"Soooo how many witches are we expecting now?" Asked someone who got pushed by everyone else into asking

Enfys gulped and said with a low tone

".....fifty four."

"What."

"Fifty. Four."

Everyone stared with their mouths wide open

"You may uh. Want to panic."

and right on que

They did

The archivists left the room screaming trying to tell everyone they can reach to get the ruler involved immediately

It caused such a ruckus ether woke up worried something went wrong

The second he opened the door he looked ready for a fight

Which scared everyone that was running there

And they ran away

Bun was confused and heard people down the hallway talking about what happened

He realized many witches will be here but didn't think it was a big deal and thought they were so dramatic

Before it clicked

Zatieons people CANNOT tolerate that many mages in one place

Bun didn't even bother putting anything on and was walking quickly around topless looking for aimanat or enfys or zaroth or anyone in authority; to see if he can help.

He bumped into aimanat

"Oof! Hey watch out, ether! This armour would have hurt you if you bumped into me with more force."

Aimanat seemed calm and ether assumed she didn't hear the news

"Uhhhh aimanat. Do you know what's going on?"

Aimanat seemed confused and looked around the place

It seemed she couldn't hear ether at all

"Im sorry i couldn't hear you- oh WAIT!" Aimanat slowly tilted her head to the side and some water fell from her ear, she tried to not tilt too hard so the water doesn't enter further from the other side, ether figured this was useful for when he gets into a similar situation so tried mimicking her to make note of it. After repeating that movement a few times she seemed to have regained her hearing completely and ether tried talking again before zaroth was heard yelling

More like screaming really

Aimanat and ether quickly rushed to where they are to see them hyperventilating and trying to calm down as the servants around kept fanning them

"MY RULER WHAT HAPPENED??? WERE YOU ATTACKED!? DID SOMETHING COME UP???"

"WORSE. THE COVEN IS COMING."

".....oh so that's all? My ruler they're certainly not that such awful guests, we've had some visiting us a few times. How many of the coven should i be preparing for?"

"All of them. All fifty four witches of the coven will be RIGHT AT OUR DOORSTEP AT ANY MOMENT!!!!"

Aimanat widened her eyes while ether looked worriedly at both of them

"......WHAAAAAAAT!????!?!!?!?"

she sat down on the nearest chair after yelling so loud

"Enfys has the most control of ALL OF THEM. We didn't even know they were a high mage until it was necessary to show reveal so. The rest of the coven is not NEARLY as discreet." Said zaroth trying to think out loud

" how are we supposed to contain the people when their ears are drumming??? How are we supposed to manage fifty four people??"

Enfys goes in hastily with a compass in hand pointing somewhere "YOU DON'T GOTTA. IM GOING TO MEET THEM HALFWAY AND I PRAY THEY DONT FIGHT ME ON THIS. ETHER, PUT SOMETHING ON AND COME WITH ME."

ether jumped a little before hurrying back to their room and coming back with the bed sheets covering him and something tied around his waist to make it look like a shirt.

"...huh you know, i kinda like it." zaroth blurted out, forgetting about the issue.

"Yeah its actually pretty nice- WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS LET'S GO!!" enfys pulled bun behind them to get them moving quickly. They left the castle and hurried to the nearest gate in that direction, As they reached edges of zatieon from where the coven was coming enfys casted a sliding spell and casted a strong wind that sent them zooming

Ether enjoyed it alot

They arrived at the edge of some lake

Ether stood up by enfys to see a black cloud moving quickly above the ground. It was the coven.

Some were on floating rocks and gems, some were in weird contraptions that propelled forward, Some came on mythical beasts, some were riding smoke shaped into horses and some were running on the wind.

Enfys gulped as he conjured something to freeze the lake over for them to take it as a sign to go straight to them. They understood.

On reaching enfys and ether they all got off their transportation methods and hurried over to them. Hugging enfys.

"Thank the ancient stones yer ok!!! We've been worried sick!!" Said an old man with sticks growing out of his hair and beard, his face round and full of wrinkles

"BELOVED SON OF MY SISTER. WHAT HATH THOSE MAGIC HATERS DONE TO THOU!!!" Yelled a lady with grey long hair that turned into cats with only front legs at the end. The cats were hissing with her and their hair stood on end as they floated around.

"IM FINE EVERYONE I PROMISE YOU!!! I've just been REALLY busy lately trying to look for the arch mage to help someone really important to me..." enfys said while looking at ether while smiling

The whole coven looked at him in turn

Bun awkwardly waved and his bubble showed "hi"

suddenly everyone cheered and was congratulating both as they swarmed them

"Congratulations are in order!!!! Everyone gather round!!! We need to congratulate enfys on this!!"

Everyone kept looking at ether and asking him questions he couldn't hear properly since they were all talking at the same time and his ears couldn't decipher it all, they were feeling his muscles and giving him many compliments

Enfys looked just as confused before deciding to put an end to this

"STOOOOOPPPP" he yelled, standing on a pedestal he just conjured from rock and getting everyone's attention.

"Just WHAT did you think was happening here?"

"You two are getting wed of course" answered someone from the crowd

"WH- I- EXCUSE- WHAT- HUH?????" enfys seemed flustered and out of words as he blushed

He noticed ether was also as flustered and he seemed shocked.

"OK NO SORRY EVERYONE WE'RE NOT GETTING WED IM JUST HELPING HIM WITH HIS CURSE!! sorry to get your hopes up"

They all went "awww" in unison

"What a shame."

"Oh woe. And here i thought we would be getting a reason to make use of our coven customs."

Ether has covered his face from embarrassment at this point and his tail was slightly wagging but enfys couldn't notice

"Yeah. Now can we talk about how you brought the whole coven INTO THE ONE NATION THAT COULD GO INSANE IF YOU GUYS JUST WALKED BY IT????"

everyone's reactions ranged from embarrassment to acting like they couldn't hear her.

"you didn't answer our calls and we couldn't reach you in anyway in a land where magic is legally limited!!! We were worried!" Hollered a lady in an orange dress that looked like a pumpkin with pumpkin stems tying her hair into a ponytail

"COME ON, EVERYONE!!! YOU KNOW I CAN HANDLE MYSELF"

"OI. DON'T GIVE US LIP YOUNG LAD. HOW WERE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WERE THE ONE BLOCKING OUR LINKS."

"YEAH EVERYONE KNOWS ZATIEON HAS MAGIC WEAKENING SPELLS." Yelled a guy with full body armour that seemed to be made of volcanic stones, they were still glowing red from underneath and his red hair flowing upwards.

"ITS MAGIC WEAKENING NOT NULLIFYING- WHATEVER. POINT IS YOU COULD HAVE DONE BETTER!! IF IT WAS ONLY 3 OR 4 AT MOST THEN IT WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM BUT EVERYONE??? HOW DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO GATHER SO QUICKLY WEREN'T WE SCATTERED ACROSS THE GLOBE A FEW MONTHS AGO FOR THAT ONE MISSION???"

"Ya'mean the dandy lions infestation? Yeah that's under control........for now. YOU COME FIRST! so we used an instant teleportation spell, we were supposed to show up right in zatieon but the rest of the guild made it their job to mess with it."

"Let me guess: belasins handy work huh?"

"Eeeeyup." Answered a lady wearing a wide hat and leather boots with black pants and coat, straw covering her clothes slightly.

"No WONDER the window i opened to contact you went to her instead. She must've made sure any teleportation process you want to do go through her first. Hate to admit it; that's brilliant." Enfys exclaimed in annoyance

"ANYWAY since you guys are here you maybe able to help me find the arch mage cuz that is NOT going well."

They all exchanged looks in uncomfortable silence

".....what."

"So uhhhh we were thinking of taking a vacation soooooo we'll just leave you to it-" answered the guy with the red hair and stone armour before receiving a death glare by enfys

He backed away with his hands raised

Enfys massaged the sides of his head to calm his nerves

"Fine. I'll eventually find a way anyway and it's not like we're in a hurry. So what will you guys do now?"

"Uhhhh can we stay here? I mean- we can stay at the other side of the lake to be far from zatieon if that will help." Wondered a skinny girl in a tuxedo, wearing round glasses and holding a staff with a glowing golden orb

"I guess that's fair. Sorry for giving you a hard time its just this whole situation caused panic" Enfys sighed. " just... please try to not use too much magic together. The people of zatieon will not take kindly to having their eardrums blown."

"Oh its quite alright enfys, our new neighbours definitely understand the situation we have here." Exclaimed zaroth as the horse they were riding trotted slowly while aimanat walked beside them.

"I am the ruler of zatieon. I welcome you to our territory and hope we can all make a great connection with eachother."

The coven bowed slightly in respect "don't worry yer....uh.... rulership. We will be extra careful to not bother ya and yer people."

"I quite appreciate it high mage shikem"

"Ya'know me??"

"Of course. Im zaroth! You used to come to visit my father."

"And im aimanat. Its a pleasure to see you again uncle jikem." Aimanat said while Bowing slightly with a smile. Enfys saw her and realized she does this with all her first interactions.

"OHHHH YER JAN'S CHILDREN!! OH YE'VE GROWN ALOT!!! Looks like ya can't swap places to trick anyone anymore huh?"

All three of them laughed

"Yeah well ever since we started our military training it became impossible to ask bee to do that anyway for many reasons"

Enfys used this opportunity to hop off and go straight to ether

"Uhh sorry about that. My coven is like my second family and they witnessed almost all my relationships so they just want me to have a proper partner."

Ether was still blushing but seemed less flustered and smiled at enfys

"Its ok. They were all asking me things and complimenting how i look so it caught me off guard."

"Well im glad this was resolved. I hate to say it out loud but if it wasn't for belasin the guild would've been in an impossibly bad position with zatieon."

"Who is belasin?" Ether inquired expecting a rant from enfys

"Oh just some colleague from the guild in the wizards tower. We hate eachothers guts."

He seemed surprised that enfys gave such a short answer and took it as a sign to not ask any more

"Hey fefe! Wanna help us with the construction of our camp?"

"SHHHHH DON'T CALL ME THAT SO LOUDLY. FINE IM COMING." enfys sprinted towards the group leaving ether behind

Ether almost left with a sad expression before he felt enfys holding his hand and dragging him

"Nuh-uh you are NOT escaping this."

Enfys exclaimed before grabbing him

Ether was happy to be included.

He looked at enfys holding his hand and felt his heart thumping loudly. He didn't understand what was happening but bun didn't care and let themself be dragged.

And there sat avalos on a tree

Angrily biting an apple that seemed to have been roasted.

"Ugh. I'll just let him have his fun for now." Before she let herself fall into the ground and turn to black smoke and leaving the apple behind

#original story #original characters #original writing #original character #oc #ocs #oc story #the shepherd prince #my novel

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gerrydelano · 2 months

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DANNY GOING 💥 ANON HERE. HEWWO. I AM SO GLAD THIS ISN'T CANON

this is perhaps??? the 8th time im rewriting this??????????? but i keep coming back to it. you're one of my favourite authors period so i HAD to just fuckging. absorb all of this so i could process it correctly.

okay okay so

1. widower tim breaks my fucking heart. like really there is no way to properly convey this to you over the screen. like. his whole thing is love, right? it's why he's the witness in literally every iteration of the gtcu. so for him to have to actually Witness gerry's death and be the most broken i have seen him across three aus where the world ends in every one of them breaks me. beyond belief. you and ren made him my favourite (next to danny) and then some. waugh

1b. 'a spire in the fog' A LIGHTHOUSE WITHOUT A LIGHT, YOU COULD SAY?

1c. i don't remember the ronologue it was exactly but it said that marriage wasn't a serious consideration but wife is a nickname that gerry loves?

2. pink is jon's honesty colour. he is wearing a pink kurta. i am going to sob.

2b. the description of the sunny day that gerry died on makes me wail.

3. MELANIE'S EVERYTHING. I LOVE HER SO MUCH. I LOVE LOVE LOVE THE IDEA OF HER MAKING A MEMORIAL VIDEO FOR GERRY FEATURING ALL THE STATEMENT GIVERS WHO WE HELPED. TIMOTHY HODGE. CAROLINE. CALLUM.

4. divishah and the cocoa. god. actually rewinding a little to say that i made it to 'no more estrogen' before crying. sasha did lose a sister!!!! HER BROTHER DIED AND SO DID HER SISTER. FUCK

4b. okay back to the cocoa. that was really kind of her to come all the way down to the archives just to bring them all a treat i love her so much.

4c. SASHA LIKE. REVERSE WITNESSING TIM? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT GOD. GOD GOD GOD /pos

4c(i) sasha and tim's sections ending the same then danny's ending as the inverse of that. they are the siblings 4ever.

5. DANNY. DANNY!

5b. okay i am really fucking pleased because i think i figured out a through line here. I will put it in a second ask because i need to back (9th time now!) to make sure i am correct so i will leave my miscellaneous observations here

danny only names himself in his dialogue once he recalls coming back when gerry can't

he calls himself the bull and Martin the tamer like how the contortionist did

tim standing in the doorway and blocking him out reminds me of hlm when danny comes to tims house the first time and tim refers the black out curtains he had to get bc of jon's stalking? that's like. the loosest connection ever lmao but it's a parallel and it hurts. (warm and solid vs cold and intangible...)

seconding this by the description of tim's eyes being the same way as the 'nothing. and nothing hurt' that keeps popping up in rtd.

also thanking you for letting danny cry? that sounds weird but it's nice to see a moc that just. is allowed to let it out. i am rotating him (all of them really) in my head

BOOM ANOOOON i'm so glad to see you! you really did just Infiltrate My Brain with that ask and i got completely overtaken and it feels like it's been more than 5 days ngl. thank you So much for the inspiration, i did have a lot of fun with this exercise, it was a challenge to kill my favorite LOL.

cracks knuckles here we go

1. widower tim breaks MY heart! "his whole thing is love, right?" you GET IT! his whole thing IS love! i can't see him as anything other than the witness at this point, even if pbr!witness is extremely different and Much Wetter than the original rtd!witness. him witnessing gerry's death in here is actually just fucking awful because he'd subsist on it in a very specific way; the arrangement renders it a suicide just as much as a murder. writing him this broken was so painful but so satisfying djhfkjdf tim is a worthy favorite to have! he's always been my favorite of the original archives crew, if it wasn't Blatantly Obvious by how much we center him LMAO.

1b. a lighthouse without a light.... you're krilling me, boom anon. shrimply krilling me.

1c. i believe it was the one about gerry being a transfem gay man!

2. pink! is the jon honesty color! yes!!!! he's been quite forthright this whole time i think, they're all really just. wondering what the point would be in anything else.

2b. i neeeeded that anachronism there so badly, just. it's a bright summer day! it's never actually raining or dreary when things like this happen (unless you recall that it was raining in venice when tim was drowned. that time it rained.) but generally, the world goes on. i think... i also just wanted that sunny day to be a little reminder of the kind of person gerry was at his core. symbolism etc etc.

3. i was SOOOO STUMPED ON MELANIE for a WHILE before i remembered she was a youtuber and then i exploded on the spot. her video is titled "the long overdue absolution of gerard keay" and she works for six months to make it perfect and it gets a lot of bad attention and skeptics but mostly condolences and maybe even a few people who had their own experiences but didn't recognize who he was until they saw a picture of him smiling. she'd include selfies they'd taken together as proof of her knowing him. i'm crying a little.

4. sasha losing a sister is a phrase i had a hard time with because there are so many ways to read it, like. that was her best friend's wife, and so kind of her sister that way, but also just. a sister. no more estrogen. no more joy.

4b. divshah is a sweet and thoughtful little bee girl and i am so sorry to her forever because people definitely make fun of her but GERRY NEVER DID! GERRY NEVER DID!

4c. sasha reverse witnessing tim GUHHHH yep! yep! her whole corruption thing is about grief, too, it crosses lines! they all have to do with loss in one way or another!

4c(i). YES YOU NOTICED THE INVERSE YESSSS my work here is complete

5. DANNY INDEED! FUCK!

5b. 9 times jhbfkjnfkjn wildman! i'm crying again!

observations:

YES I AM SO GLAD YOU NOTICED THAT TOO i didn't want him to name himself much in his pov section but i needed to use it there and GUH. you are the most observant and you made my night jdfhbdk

always comes back to the bullfighter and the bleeding man dunnit

that's a fun connection to make tbh!!!! i was saying to ren today "you know what'd Suck the most? if tim didn't even let him in the house and they just talked in the doorway" and they were like "then you have to do it. if it sucks the most that's what you have to do." and YEP! it sucks the most to me!!!! for precisely that reason!

tim's eyes also hurt me like hi mr. spooky man maybe work on that a little bit please g-d you're gonna scare a small child like that. very good connection to rtd though you are NAILING IT and i am over the MOON.

danny crying is extremely important to me for that reason too yes g-d. like. all the other men cried in this, too (especially tim YIKES, MAN) but something about letting danny just weep openly and in such a human way felt like. g-d he's needed this for such a long time. so much longer than anybody is able to count. he needed to let that out and be held through it and he needed to accept that comfort and it's not the first time, really! i try not to be too restrained with letting characters cry because there are a thousand reasons that somebody might like, feel good about seeing it just play out naturally and without shame.

thank you so much for your observations and your enthusiasm and just, everything, jfhbkjnfkjn gosh WOW thank you!

#asks #anon #💥#bad end tag #pbr tag #reviews

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winter-literature · 9 months

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LCWEEK 2023 - DAY FOUR

Seeing In Monochrome

A Shiguang FanFiction

Prompt: Monochrome

Summary: Lu Guang writes a love note for Cheng Xiaoshi.

Rating: General Audiences

Since before I could remember, my world has always been painted blue.

I’ve weaved through the river of time; watched memories of families through an indigo lens; lived alone in cities surrounded by shades of midnight blue.

It never hurt or felt lonely. It simply was. How could I miss a rainbow if all I knew was blue?

I never believed in soulmates. I thought they were corny, a mythical concept based in fan fiction. Until I met you, and suddenly, I saw purple.

The world as I knew it suddenly began to shift. Your warmth trickled into my vision, my heart, my soul. The first time our fingers touched I finally saw pink.

Little by little, you showed me the rainbow. With a smile, you revealed how the warmth of a flame on a gas top stove flickers orange, how the sun that lights up a goofy smile burns yellow.

There were bad days, and there always will be. On days where my blue seeps too deep. Or on days when your red burns too hot. Or days where we’re caught in gray.

But even on the darkest days, I am no longer trapped in blue. Dawn pours streaks of coral and peach across a horizon of cerulean.

I never found particular interest in anyone or anything, I was comfortable living in isolation. It’s meeting you, Cheng Xiaoshi, that taught me how beautiful life can be. You’re my love, my soulmate, my rainbow.

“Oh my god, Lu Guang!” Qiao Ling giggled, re-reading the last line of Lu Guang’s love note.

“Hey!” Lu Guang stomped over to the counter, ripping the letter away from her lingering fingers. “It’s not done yet.”

“Aweh, I just didn’t know you could say such pretty things!” Qiao Ling feigned a pout.

Sighing, Lu Guang crumpled up the paper into a ball.

“Lu Guang, I didn’t mean-,” Qiao Ling’s head dipped to the side as her face fell.

“It was shit anyway.” Lu Guang rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head.

“I think he’d really like it.” Qiao Ling mumbled as she stared down at her fiddling fingers.

“Drop it.” Lu Guang warned.

Soft sobs echoed through the room. Fighting the suffocating veil of sleep, Lu Guang forced his eyelids open. The moon coloured the walls in sapphire, the shades of night deepening the shadows within their room.

The sobs continued, stabbing Lu Guang in the chest.

“Cheng Xiaoshi?” Lu Guang sat up in the empty bed.

Patting the sheet beside him, Cheng Xiaoshi’s side was cold to the touch. How long had he been up?

“Cheng Xiaoshi, are you okay?” Lu Guang rubbed his eyes, sparks of red and yellow dancing under his fist.

The bed shifted with a lurch as Cheng Xiaoshi leaped up the bunk bed.

“Wha?” Lu Guang couldn’t finish his word, the heel of his palm still pressed against his face.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s face was covered in tears, but his pearl teeth were bright under the moon.

“Lu Guang!” Cheng Xiaoshi jumped under the covers, scooting closer until he’d completely latched onto Lu Guang.

“What is going on?” Lu Guang ran his thumb along his lover’s cheek, drying away tears.

“Well,” the tone was far more joyous than Lu Guang had expected, “I was taking out the garbage like you asked me to, right?”

Lu Guang squinted his eyes, reality nearly close enough to touch. “Did you take the garbage out?”

Opening his mouth to continue his story, Cheng Xiaoshi paused. “Um, well, almost…”

Rolling his eyes, Lu Guang nodded to Cheng Xiaoshi to continue.

“Well, I was picking it up and right at the top I saw a paper with your handwriting on it. Considering you always write down the im-import-antstuff for me, and I-I didn’t remember seeing that paper, I picked it up right away.” Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest trembled, tears cascading down his face.

Blushing, Lu Guang pushed his face into his pillow. “You read it?” His exclamation was muffled by the pillow.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s wet face nuzzled into the crease of Lu Guang’s neck. Cheng Xiaoshi’s kisses were hot, clashing with the cold tears against his skin.

“I love you, Lu Guang.” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered between kisses, squeezing Lu Guang as tight as he could.

“Shut up.” Lu Guang burrowed his face deeper into the pillow.

“You’re so adorable.” Cheng Xiaoshi giggled, the tears now salty lines that pinched at his smile.

“Idiot.”

“An idiot for you!” Cheng Xiaoshi sang while attempting to slide his cheek into the divot of the pillow against Lu Guang’s.

Groaning at the cheesy line, Lu Guang tilted his face out of the trench he’d created, allowing Cheng Xiaoshi access to his face, an action he regretted immediately as Cheng Xiaoshi made it his mission to kiss every square inch.

Pausing, Cheng Xiaoshi hovered over Lu Guang’s face. His lashes were thick as they fluttered in confusion. Silvery blue eyes sparkled with the midnight stars. Lu Guang was breathtaking.

“You brought colors into my world too.” Cheng Xiaoshi whispered before brushing his lips against Lu Guang’s.

For Cheng Xiaoshi, colors always passed him by. He was always so eager to see the next shade. Lu, with his endless layers of blue, taught him to slow down. Together, they appreciated each new shade.

Cheng Xiaoshi brought excitement and thrill. Lu Guang brought stability and direction.

Allowing himself a smirk, Lu Guang tugged Cheng Xiaoshi closer, his warmth spilling across his skin.

#lcweek2023 #shiguang #link click #link click fandom #link fanfic #link click fan fiction #Cheng Xiaoshi #Lu Guang #Cheng Xiaoshi x Lu Guang #fluff #established relationship #fan fiction #fan fiction writer #shiguang fan fiction

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