Tumgik
#warning for some of the fics
jacky-rubou · 4 months
Text
Twenty Questions for Fic Writers
thank you @septic-dr-schneep for the tag!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
44 public works, 48 if you count anonymous
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
486,495
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Gravity Falls, which is the only one I really write for. Any other fandoms I have are either from previous fandoms or crossovers with Gravity Falls lmao
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1. A Hug For Those Who Need It with 205 kudos (first fic to hit 200, woot woot) 2. The Trouble With Sweaters with 190 kudos 3. Sometimes All It Takes Is A Sleepover with 132 kudos 4. He Signs I Love You with 125 kudos 5. In The Dark with 112 kudos
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I always try to at least give them a single sentence of gratitude, if not an author's cut of why I did what they liked. Sometimes just a heart if their comment doesn't have much to respond to. or a winky face if I'm being coy lol. I just like to let my readers know that I appreciate the comments and that they're not commenting into a void lol.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
that is so hard because almost all my fics are angsty in some way haha. but i guess there are some with bittersweet endings that aren't as crushing as others, so I'll go with Sacrifices Must Be Made (major gore warning), The Things You Can't Live Without, The Twist of the Knife That is Fate, and Lost in Loving Memory (suicide and self harm warning) all with major character death.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
define 'Happiest'. i got some hopeful endings after soul crushing angst like Not So Different (And We're Dying For It) (suicide attempt warning) and Barely Living (And All It Takes Are Some Pills but idk.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
occasionally. mostly just peeps upset at pacing or my weird choices. i haven't gotten a lot. if i do, i delete it right away usually.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
haha no. (no shame on anyone who does but... that's not my style)
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I've written a fair bunch. I think the wildest one was a Courage The Cowardly Dog and Undertale fic I abandoned on ffnet.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
no idea if I have and hopefully i haven't. anyone who notices someone stealing a fic of mine please let me know.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
if i have, they haven't asked or told me about it.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
nope and the idea terrifies me. though if helping with ideas counts, i have had someone help me with one of my fics in a more 'major' way but i don't want to talk about them further for personal reasons.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
right now, i like fiddauthor.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
there's a wip i made a few months ago inspired by a small angsty comic about ford's ptsd being triggered by water guns and almost shooting his family with a real gun i saw but i lost interest pretty quick when i didn't know where the hell to go with it.
16. What are your writing strengths?
emotions. i have made many a reader cry and i love that about my writing. and I think I have a good grasp on world-building.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
probably my bias towards specific characters blinding me to implications. specifically Ford.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I think it's fine. I don't do it because I fear writing something wrong. Also I don't really write with characters that would know other languages (except for Stan I guess but I don't get very much opportunity to add it where it makes sense haha)
19. First fandom you wrote for?
regrettably, the transphobic wizard franchise mixed with Sonic the Hedgehog for some godforsaken reason. never posted it anywhere though, thank god. just something i handwrote as a kid. for first ones I've actually posted, see the courage the cowardly dog and undertale fic on ffnet i mentioned earlier.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
ARRRGGGGHHHH SO HARD TO CHOOOSE!!!
A few I love from myself are my suicide!ford duology (soon to be trilogy, shhhh), my paralysis!ford trilogy, my blind!ford duology, and Dead On Arrival
anyway, tagging @ferretwhomst and @thereareeyesinsidethetrees
13 notes · View notes
ghostbsuter · 10 months
Text
"I did not think I'd ever use it like this," the boy muttered next to batman.
It was comically, with the police and ambulance lighting up the entire area.
Danny, being himself, had gotten curious and accidentally busted a human trafficking ring, which ended up with batman and his kids (?) doing the fighting and the police being called.
"Son, solving crime doesn't mean you didn't trespass and break into someone's property, I will have to take you back to the station—"
"I have diplomatic immunity."
Officer Gordon stood still for a moment, progressing.
"You can't really, err— put me to prison." The boy took his phone out, stopped at a picture, and showed it to the officer and batman.
The vigilante confirmed his identity with a jerky nod, and Gordon is pinching his brows.
"Son– no offence your... majesty, why are you in Gotham of all places?"
The boy now identified as Daniel Phantom, prince of the other and currently the reigning monarch of another realm.
In gotham.
"Okay, so," Danny coughs, embarrassed. "I'm on university search and gotham had this really cool space science programm. I really wanted to see it."
(Once they checked his papers and got his statement, did they let him leave to his hotel + some of his squad going along for protection measure.
Gordon heaved a sigh, "We can be glad it wasn't the joker. That would have made headlines." and slumb in his seat.
Batman grunts, a sound the officer knows too well.
"You're gonna look out for the kid?"
Another grunt.
"Good, because Gotham help us all if that kid gets hurt.")
2K notes · View notes
persnickety-doodles · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
But Korra's protests die on her tongue as Asami pulls her in for another kiss, and by the time they resurface their tea has long since gone cold.
Under Me, Over Me, Any Way You’ll Have Me by @korrasamibottles
I’m back with another inspired doodle! ☺️ Enjoy!
2K notes · View notes
thefreakandthehair · 9 months
Text
(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k
content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags
“My dad called.” 
Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 
It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 
Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 
Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 
“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 
“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 
Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 
“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 
“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 
His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.
“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 
He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 
But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.
“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”
Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 
“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 
“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 
Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 
He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 
It’s only then that Steve speaks. 
“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”
Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 
“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 
“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 
Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 
“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”
“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”
Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 
“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 
“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 
“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”
Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 
“Definitely.”
The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.
There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 
509 notes · View notes
samgatinho · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
I’m sorry. I’ll see you again. I think. I hope.
wearing thin by @sparxwrites
1K notes · View notes
lavernius · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It’s just him and this small, empty room, tucked into the corner of a very lived-in base full of his former enemies. Right—he’s getting out of here the second his ship is fixed, no two ways about it.
(Or: Locus stops by Iris to recuperate and winds up getting more involved with the Reds and Blues than he ever wanted to be.)
218 notes · View notes
gentrychild · 3 months
Note
Gentry, I low key be shipping AFO and Kurogiri in Anyone. How much to make them canon? Or at least to imply they're a thing.
I... Well... I... Listen. While I will admit this would be one hell of an explanation as to why Kurogiri is taking AFO's side instead of Izuku's, Kurogiri is still one of the most responsible members of the group and while he has made a lot of bad decisions in his life (seriously, a lot of bad and dumb decisions), he has his limits.
Kurogiri is the man who has been AFO's taxi service AND bartender since he was 16. He saw all the petty and dumb things that motivated AFO to go from point 1 to point B quickly. He has heard AFO's unfiltered opinions on too many things, including his little brother. And that's before meeting Yami, because let's be serious, anyone getting with AFO also get Izuku in the deal, no matter how much Izuku disagrees with it.
Kurogiri simply doesn't have so little self worth and urge to self destruct to hook up with a yandere nuke who holds grudges like it's an Olympic sport and who will smother anything he loves until they die, unless said something has a quirk about as strong as AFO himself and is willing to murder him.
151 notes · View notes
poppy-s-rampage · 1 month
Text
Once a Hero.
Chapter 1: Too late!
Warnings: Blood, Gore and violence. You can't sue me now!
‐-------------------------
Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!
---------------------------
The Master of time leaned over the unmoving form of his young protegee, forceps needle and thread in hands. The old ghost deftly redid the stitches on the youngest torso. Slowly but surely closing the jagged ‘Y’ shaped wound shut.
‘How did it come to this?’
All it took was one minute of inattention for the young Halfa's timeline to be put in jeopardy. In a single moment of inattention, Daniel’s timeline tangled with another stray unstable one and merged. By the time Clockwork noticed, the timelines were already fused to the point of no return. Reality wrapped to fit the new Frankenstein series of events. So he did what he could, snip at some parts, and twist at others to make it so his protegee could have a chance of survival and still having a goodish timeline.
The gaping wound now finally shut, the old ghost went to treat the boy’s muzzle cuts and throat. The apparatus, when destroyed by the wail, had split open the right cheek’s flesh from the corner of the Halfas mouth, carving a morbid half smile. The boy’s tongue was bloody but could still be salvaged with diluted ectoplasm. The real problem was the throat; it was impossible to currently heal to a usable level with the concentration of ectoplasm he could safely use on Danny.
He was no Frostbite, but he was more than capable of putting back together the young ghost in a Time out. Daniel was too unstable to stay in the infinite realms, his core still too raw for pure Ecto. It would be like feeding a 10-year comatose patient a buffet after being kept alive via IV, transfer the concept to a fragilized and forcefully balanced core, and you get the idea.  It was also a way to better realize the consequences of his mistake. But not to apologize, nothing would ever be enough to fix what Daniel had endured.
Clockwork stopped believing in apologies an eternity ago.
It all had happened so fast, Phantom had no chance of changing the course of events. Ironically, the current timeline was the best possible outcome after the incident.
While his protegee’s original timeline’s parents would have been accepting of his heritage, the ones of the intruding unstable timeline were not. ‘Monsters’ would have been too kind of a word to describe them. Curiosity plagued individuals who could have given Dan a run for his money. The origin of a world’s collapse, the cause of too many deaths, terrifying geniuses with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and slaves of their obsessions. Even their children didn’t hold enough value for them to spare.
Thankfully, this world didn’t come to that and was still salvageable. Unfortunately, too many people have already lost their lives and existence to his mistake.
It had been like any tranquil day in young Daniel's life. He woke up groggy after a night of patrolling, went to school, hung out with his friends, patrolled a bit, saved a few weaker ghosts, stopped a few accidents and then went back home. The young Halfa had planned to finally reveal his identity to his parents- with no little insistence and encouragement from his sister and the reassurance of the previous Freakshow happenings. (He, of course, delayed the moment as much as he could.)
Of course, Clockwork had already watched and analyzed all the possible futures caused by this decision. He had assured Danny that no harm would befall him.
And since every possible happening was in Daniel’s favor, the ghost of time left the timeline out of his watch in favor of fixing yet another mess the Speedster’s had caused.
Seriously, what kind of mentally challenged troglodyte would erase an entire timeline to enjoy a cheap burger in loop instead of buying another!
*Crack*
The forceps broke in his hand. The Ancient summoned another one. Moving to stitch the lacerations on his king’s arms and legs.
It had, sadly, taken a while for the Master of Time to fix the Flash themed issues. It then took him an even longer while to salvage the tangled mess of timelines. He was far too late to save Danny’s loved ones. Humans, even Liminals, were fragile.
—-------------------
The reveal had gone well at first, Jack and Maddie had accepted their son’s new nature. But then the timelines merged, the Fenton parents became one with their alternates and the world was set ablaze.
The youngest Fenton was promptly drugged and knocked out, only to wake up on a dissection table. His parents and a few GIW agents circling him, tools in hand. The hours, maybe days, Daniel spent in these creatures’ grasps were a nightmare made real.
His sister and friends tried to free him, only to be captured and fall victim to the same fate. Amity Park’s younger population mutinied against the agency and scientists but quickly got shut down. Brutally. The city was deemed a lost cause and put on lock down. The elder Fentons and the GIW galvanized by their success, went after every single being standing in their way in the name of science and self-defense.
It was too much for the young Halfa. His every waking moment being haunted by monsters wearing the skin of people he used to know and love. To hear the same people who raised and loved him gloating at the harm they caused his fraid. At the harm they caused him, vindictive. Every ounce of strength Danny had went into figuring out a way to save what he had left. But alas, he was too late.
Everything culminated the moment the agents and his parents reentered the room for the how manyth time. Their make believe faces fixed into a cruel smirk, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and too many teeth. Were the ghosts truly the monsters ?
Black opaque bags were dragged into the room next. A dreadful foreboding feeling caressed his spine. It was different. What were they planning?! What did they do?!
Panic seized the Halfa’s heart, hair standing on end. Eyes wide and pupils dilating as he noticed the strong smell of copper permeating from the bags.  His restrained limbs shaking at the realization of the truth he oh so wanted to deny. 
The monsters kept talking, taunting and accusing him of something. Blaming him. But he didn’t ‘hear’ them over his ever rising dread.
They opened the bags and his world came crashing down.
Three lifeless barely recognizable corpses. Chest opened in a bloody imitation of a butterfly. Missing limbs and organs. An innumerable number of lacerations. All indicators of a painful and slow death. But yet their eyes remained closed into acceptance and welcoming the relief of death.
He wailed.
Despite the muzzle, despite his already severed vocal cords. The wail coming from his very core blasted everything in his surroundings. The muzzle shattered, the monsters vaporized into a red mist and the walls became debris.
The building shook. The creatures in human skin panicked trying desperately to flee the premise but they were too late.
The latest experimental portal meant to be mass produced by the GIW resonated with the Wail and destabilized. The explosion that followed erased the facility and its surroundings and triggered the original Fenton portal which in turn wiped the city above off the maps.
Every single being died. The GIW agents, the Fentons, the citizens and some of the weaker ghosts. The stronger Phantom rogues weren’t even in the range or succeeded in escaping. The Fentons and GIW were still ‘thankfully’ useless when it came to capturing them.
And then there was Phantom.
Unfortunately or fortunately for him.
Forever the exception.
--------------------------------------
Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!
--------------------------------------
Author note:
Hello! Thank you for reading! This time I didn't write this at 3 am!
.
.
.
.
.
I wrote it at 5am! Insomnia says what?
100 notes · View notes
nicolegendary · 19 days
Text
wlw buddie fics compilation
Tumblr media
tequila and red wine, hotel soap and no bra by DesertPersephone
I wanted to play around the bachelor party, drunk sex sandbox. oh and also they're women.
Girls being Girls by Moonrose001
In which Buck realizes she's in love with Eddie, when she starts to hyper-fixate on Eddie's c-section scar.
Sweet as strawberry wine by mi1kc0ffee
Buck drinks her I-love-my-gf juice for 1.9k.
like a saint who sins by sirencalls
This isn’t the first time Buck has tried to whisk Eddie away into a dark corner of the firehouse despite Eddie’s best efforts to keep her in check—in fact, it happens more than Eddie’s already high blood pressure can take—but this is the first time she’s been successful.
had a feeling i could be somebody by llovely
butchdiaz writes a fic about butch eddie diaz? abt time!!!!
i was lost 'til i found you (i think angels surround you) by allthatsleft
buck loves her best friend a disgusting amount. it's a good thing eddie loves her just as much.
136 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 10 months
Text
Gem lies back, between Scott and Impulse. Their blood still tastes sharp and iron at the back of her throat, which is a little silly, given that it's not like she licked them or something. There's no reason she should taste anything. She just... stabbed them, when they asked her to.
Stabbed them, because they knew they had to go red eventually, and for the sake of the team they wanted her to win.
Stabbed. Scott and Impulse.
Here's the thing: she'd told herself she wouldn't feel guilty, and she'd told herself this ages ago, when she started leading people to the End to see if the dragon would kill them. She told herself she wouldn't feel guilty, because clearly, she wouldn't let these games wear her down the way they do some people. She told herself she wouldn't feel guilty because people like to mistake her for a prey animal when she's a predator, and guilt would give the game away. She told herself she wouldn't feel guilty, because why feel guilty over having fun? It's just a game. A bloody, bloody game. She told herself she wouldn't feel guilty.
She told herself. She told herself.
There's no reason to feel guilty. She enjoyed herself, the rush of blood when running with Pearl, and then the heady feeling of having life, life, life running through her. She's pretty sure, despite being a red name, she has the most life anyone ever has in these games. It makes sense! Life and death are all wrapped up together, and Scott had choked on his own blood before he went down, even though she'd tried to make it quick, and as he gurgled over the injury she'd inflicted she'd felt life running in her and her heart pounding and everything getting dizzy and--
It doesn't matter. They told her to do it. She shouldn't feel guilty. Impulse had smiled at her. It had been a lovely smile. She hadn't known what to make of it.
And she closes her eyes and sees the life leave his.
But she shouldn't feel guilty. She tried to make it quick. Impulse had turned around, told her to do it like killing a chicken, destroying the brain stem so that he doesn't have to feel it, those last few minutes. It's fast. Humane. Like killing a chicken. Almost impersonal, except that he'd been so gentle, and they both had Scott's blood on them, and there was so much blood, and she likes blood. This whole game, that's been the point. She likes blood.
Impulse had died surprisingly bloodless but he'd screamed, for just a moment, because she doesn't actually know how to make it fast and humane, even if it's supposed to be like killing a chicken, and she'd felt--
Felt--
She'd felt good, is the thing. It had felt good, even though he'd taken several blows to bring down, in the end. Even though she hadn't managed to make it quick. Even though, for a moment, he'd been terrified, and then after that, he'd convulsed, twitching on the ground, and she hadn't known if he was able to feel that at all. These are games. They're supposed to be fun. She won't feel guilty, she tells herself. There's no reason to feel guilty.
They told her they loved her, afterwards. Quietly, through actions and words. They told her not to feel guilty. It's in her nature.
One does not blame a lion for biting when it's given meat. It's in their nature.
This is her nature. This is what she is. She knows that now. That's what this has all taught her, this game she's playing. She knows well what she is; everyone will know well what she is, when next they take her in.
And maybe that's why, as she starts laughing, she can't stop from feeling guilty for what will happen next.
278 notes · View notes
genericaces · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
remembered my doomed weslah(?) post-nfa au that i can only describe as "wesley is an unofficial third to a semi-retired frunn who are now hippies in portland and also lilah is there"
Tumblr media
wes grows a depression beard and gets really into building birdhouses. sometimes lilah, still liaison for w&h, shows up and together they're the most sexually tense couple at the farmer's market. (lilah makes him shave the beard)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
obviously lilah decides that she needs to insert herself into this non-throuple in order to make wesley jealous and admit that he cares about... something. other than birdhouses.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
anyways every visit inevitably ends with lilah being called back to work by the senior partners. she only gets to snag brief moments of freedom before she goes back to work, and every time wes has to say goodbye to her all over again he gets all morose and guilty about it.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and i think it's ultimately about hanging onto guilt and loss past the point where it's helpful for you because it's your last connection to someone, even though it's keeping you from living your life in the present, because on some level the idea of being happy feels like a betrayal. and trying to figure out what moving on even looks like
105 notes · View notes
iron-bullogna · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
my durge Sanctus with Gale courtesy of @tadpole-apocalypse 💜
in my fic series Sanctus collects various books to try and rouse memories of his past life but struggles to read them due to his headaches so Gale selflessly volunteers to help
68 notes · View notes
coquelicoq · 2 months
Text
I KEEP FORGETTING TO SAY THIS but my ideal au is always, ALWAYS a three men and a baby au. doesn't have to be men just yknow three adults and a baby. i know i have said this before but it was only the one time and it bears repeating, it bears so much repeating because i need it so bad for everything forever.
83 notes · View notes
blindmagdalena · 2 years
Note
how do you think homie would react to reader breaking up with him because they have very different morals (homie kills people, ik he's babygirl but he does just brutally kill people, reader is a pacifist)
-bree(sorry for multiple asks in short time :P)
cw gaslighting, imprisonment, manhandling. no more mr. nice homelander.
"Fine, listen, listen, if it means that much to you, I won't do it anymore," Homelander says, hands lifted placatingly. The way he says it makes it sound like he's doing you a favor. Like you're overreacting to a mild infraction. You stare, mouth agape. "This... This isn't some bad habit. You kill people."
"Yeah," he agrees, a slight strain creeping into his voice. "Yeah! Okay. And? Lots of people kill people. And typically, I only kill people who're also killing people." "Typically," you echo, at a loss. How can he be so flippant about this? It's like he hasn't heard a single word you've said. "You don't care. At all." "Why should I care? Why should you care? It's not like I'm killing people you like, or even know," he says, his exasperation with you intensifying. "But you love me. So just... Cool off, alright? Sleep on it. Before you do something you'll regret."
The shift in his voice when he says that runs a chill up your spine. "Are you threatening me?" "What?" Homelander laughs. "No! Of course not. Babe, listen to yourself. C'mon, I know you're upset-" he moves to take your hand, but for the first time, you yank it from his reach, crossing your arms. His hand hovers in the space yours had been for a moment, his eyes locked on the same spot. He inhales a slow breath, his fingers curling into a fist before dropping back to his side.
When he looks at you, his gaze is bereft of any playfulness. Your denial of him has flipped a switch in him that you've never seen before.
"You're tired," he says, voice set low. Any traces of the lighthearted pretense from earlier has been dropped. "It's late. You have a lot to process. So, we are going to put this aside for tonight. You are going to come to bed with me, and we'll talk about it in the morning, when you're calm." "I am calm," you tell him, refusing to let him make you feel like you're the one being unreasonable. "Please move. I already told my friend I'm on my way," you lie. You wish you had. You wish you realized sooner you would need to. Homelander had always been so utterly devoted to you. He hung on your every word, met your every whim, loved you so thoroughly that he made you feel like his entire world. Only now have you realized the dangers of that kind of love.
His mouth twitches. "Which friend?"
You begin to answer, wanting to give validity to your fiction, but an awful thought occurs to you. Would he hurt them? "It doesn't matter," You reply instead, clutching your overnight bag. "I need space, and I don't want you coming to me before I'm ready. Please, move," you say, voice wavering. He was making this so much more painful than it already was. You do love him, but he's making you feel like you barely even know him.
Homelander taps his hands on his thighs, considering you. After a prolonged silence, just before you open your mouth to speak again, he claps his hands together. "Alright. Sure," he says, stepping forward. You step backwards. "Door's right there." You're immediately relieved, but there's a nagging feeling in your gut. "Thank you," you say softly, adjusting your grip on your bag. "I'll call, okay?" Homelander offers a sideways nod, seeming... resigned. You feel the guilt of it weigh heavily, and for a split second, you question yourself, whether what you're doing is right or fair. You have to steel yourself before your resolve falters. You need time away from him to collect yourself, and figure out what to do about the man you, as it turns out, know very little about.
Just as you pass him, you feel a sudden grip on your arm, and in a flash you're spun around, stumbling back into the penthouse. You stare wide-eyed for a moment, turning back around. Poised exactly as he had been before, Homelander stands in front of the door, hands on his hips. His brows lift slightly. "Well?" Your heart is racing now. "What are you doing?"
"Go on," he says, ignoring your question. "Door's right there."
Anger rolls through you in a heated wave. "I'm not playing this game with you," you say, moving to shove more forcibly passed him this time, but once again he catches you with a hand on your wrist, spinning you around with such ease, you may as well weigh nothing at all. Yet again you stumble back into the penthouse, tears welling in your eyes as you round on him. "Stop it! Get out of my way!" "Door's wide open, babe. All you have to do is get to it, and you can leave," he says, voice perfectly relaxed, devoid of any passion or empathy.
With a frustrated cry, you hurl your bag at him, and full on sprint towards the door. You get closer this time, but just as you reach for the knob, Homelander takes you by your shoulders and spins you right around. Your own momentum carries you further in. You barely catch yourself from falling, letting go a sob that's equal parts rage and heartbreak. Who is this man?
This time, you throw yourself bodily towards the door, screaming your distress, your anger. You do it again and again and again, and every time, Homelander spins you right back around. On the final attempt, as he once again redirects you, the force of your own momentum hurls you to the ground.
"Do you get it yet?" Homelander asks, cocking his head to the side, checking to see if you're picked up on this lesson in futility. "You don't call the shots here. You don't get to just decide we're done. Relationships go two ways, sweetheart," he says. That petname used to give you butterflies. It sounds sour on his tongue now. You hear him sigh, closer to you now.
"Didn't think you'd be that stubborn. But I guess I've always loved that about you when it wasn't pointed at me, huh?" He asks, a playful little lilt slipping back into his voice. You struggle when he scoops you up, you make an animalistic noise of pure aggravation, but it's as fruitless as ever. Homelander is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object, his grip on you like steel. He cannot be stopped, or even hindered, as he carries you towards the bedroom. He sets you down on the bed, and out of pure unthinking fury, you raise your hand to slap him across the face. The strike lands, but Homelander doesn't so much as twitch. Your hand smarts, you may as well have slapped a brick wall. You clutch your wrist, letting go another sob. It aches immediately, frail in comparison to his unyielding frame.
Cupping either side of your face, Homelander swipes away your tears with his thumbs, watching you impassively. There's patience in his expression, though it looks stretched thin.
"I know you're upset," he says, an echo of earlier, as if picking up right from where he'd left off. As if nothing of the last twenty minutes had even happened. "But we'll get through this. And hey, hey, I'm not even mad at you, okay? Because that's what it means when you love someone. You forgive them." You feel numbed by your own plethora of tumultuous emotions, strung out and exhausted. You close your eyes, unable to stomach the loving way he's gazing at you. He kisses your forehead, wringing a weak, hiccupped little noise out of you. "That's my girl. I love you more than anything. You know that, right? That I would never do anything to hurt you?" No matter how gentle his hold on you is, it's inescapable. You have no choice but to face him, bleary as he is through your tear-welled eyes. Unable to push an answer through the tightness in your throat, you just nod.
"That's right. Of course you do. Because if I wanted to hurt you, I would have. It would have been easy, huh?" Those words break something in you. You lose whatever bit of composure you had built back up, and you begin to sob anew, an agonized sound. Homelander's expression twists. He's never liked seeing you cry. He's also never been the source of it.
"Shhh, shhhh, hey, it's alright. You're okay. I would never let anything happen to you," he says, as if he wasn't the very thing happening to you in this moment. He kisses your forehead again, your tear-streaked cheeks, and finally your lips.
You don't have any fight left in you. Not against the press of his lips, and not against the way he brings you under the covers with him, clothes and all.
He pulls you against his chest the same way he has a hundred times before, as if this is any other night that the two of you have fallen asleep in each others embrace.
You hug your arms tight to your chest, crying hard, while he rubs your back, hushing you. Comforting you, as any good boyfriend should.
"It's alright. I've got you," he says, his arms an oppressive force around you. "I've got you."
1K notes · View notes
skyward-floored · 1 month
Text
Shatter
(Alternate title: Warriors Gets Jarred)
HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY @adrift-in-thyme!!!! I finally finished the fic I said I was going to write for you :3 I hope you like it, and I’m sorry once again for taking I don’t even know how many months to finish this XD
Ao3 link
————————————————————
“Ooooh, there’s something wrong about this place, I just know it.”
Time more than agreed with Wind’s anxious mutter, studying the trees at the side of the path. At first glance there was nothing strange with the forest they were all trekking through, but the longer they walked, the more nervous they all got. The forest was almost completely silent, no sound of squirrels in the underbrush, no birdsong in the trees. There was no life except for the foliage, and even that seemed strangely off, leaves more grey than green, flowers oddly dull.
Something seemed to hang in the very air, heavy and dark, and Time knew all of them had caught onto it, ears flicking, eyes darting towards shadows.
Something was wrong.
“Where did you say you think this great fairy was again?” Four asked in a quiet voice, and Hyrule hesitated, looking around the forest.
“There’s a magic source of some kind up ahead,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. “But these woods... they aren’t natural.”
“So something’s definitely up then,” Legend mumbled from his place on Twilight’s back. “Wonderful.”
“It’s not like we have any other options,” Sky quietly pointed out, gesturing with his arm that wasn’t in a sling. “It’s the hope of a Great Fairy through the unsettling woods or nothing.”
The rest of them murmured agreement, and Time looked back at all the heroes, worn down from a series of long fights, almost everyone injured without any supplies left to heal them. Legend was the worst off, a deep wound in his side and a concussion to boot, but they were all weary and in need of healing, broken arms and twisted ankles, bruises and cuts galore.
But they were in an in-between time period, one none of them recognized. They’d come across no towns or anywhere else where they could buy supplies, just monsters and wilderness, empty forests and fields.
So it was the Great Fairy or nothing.
A soft breeze rustled the leaves around them, and Time wasn’t the only one who stiffened, his ears twitching. Something like a laugh drifted on the wind, but it faded before he could pinpoint it.
He saw Warriors swallow next to him, and Wind rub anxiously at the dark bruise on his cheek.
“...Come on. This way,” Time said finally, able to sense the same magic Hyrule was following, and they all trailed after him, walking closer together then they had been previously.
It wasn’t long before the top of a structure poked through the trees, and Time steered towards it, following an overgrown, barely-there path. An old temple-like building rose up from the trees, thick vines clawing at dark stone, and they all paused to look up at it.
“This is it,” Time confirmed. Hyrule silently nodded in agreement.
They all exchanged looks, but nobody spoke further, and they all trailed inside.
Time relaxed just a bit at the familiar brush of fairy magic that drifted faintly around them, but he realized quickly that there weren’t any fairies inside, the space oddly dark. The Links looked around, studying dark stone and broken windows, and Time walked towards the pool of water on the far side of the room.
His steps were loud on the stones, and Time studied the pool uneasily, the water inside dull and dark.
Strangely dark.
“...This is really a fairy fountain?” Wind asked as they all gathered in the middle of the area, and Wild limped over to the pool, setting a foot near the water.
“I mean... it kinda looks like one,” Wild said, leaning out over the water. “Just... weird.”
“Careful Champion,” Warriors cautioned, slowly moving to stand beside him. “Something here isn’t...”
“Oh, some Heroes have come to visit, have they?”
All of them froze at the echoing voice, strangely harsh to their ears. Hyrule flinched and Warriors stiffened, but Time barely noticed, gaze focused on the pool.
The water was rippling, bubbles appearing on its surface.
“Seems they’ve come seeking help,” the voice continued, tittering when they all took a step back. “Oh, even injured they’re strapping specimens indeed...”
“Ew,” Legend muttered.
The voice laughed, and Time stepped forward, ignoring his unease. “We’ve come in need of healing,” he spoke in a level voice, and the voice went silent a moment. Time was sure he could feel eyes on them all.
“Healing, hmm... I don’t know. You all look so dashing with blood on you...”
“This doesn’t feel right,” Four whispered as the voice hummed. Time nodded, still watching the water. Great Fairies could be on the... unsettling side, but not like this, and he could feel the dark magic in the air now, thick and pungent, like an oily weight that sank into his skin.
Time set a hand on his sword.
“No. It’s not,” he said grimly.
“Does this magic feel familiar to anyone else?” Twilight whispered, a hand ghosting along his side where the Shadow’s axe had struck.
“Something’s wrong here,” Hyrule breathed behind them, hand still pressed to his chest. Time glanced at him and saw his eyes darting around the room, sweat beading on his brow. “Something’s really wrong here...”
“I think we need to leave,” Sky whispered.
The voice laughed like it had heard him, and they all went silent, watching the bubbling water.
“Leave? You just got here! Such fine heroes deserve a rest,” the voice almost purred, and Time‘s grip tightened on his sword. “Lovely specimens indeed... in fact...”
The water abruptly stilled, and the Links held their breath, every muscle in Time’s body alert and tensed.
“...I think I’ll keep you!”
The ground began to tremble under their feet, and Time felt the hair on his neck stand up, the water somehow growing darker as it bubbled again.
“Boys, get away from the—!”
A pale hand shot out of the water at the same time Warriors shoved Wild away, the hand closing around Warriors and pulling him under with a cry.
“Captain!” Twilight gasped as Time’s heart lurched, and they all ran to the water with their weapons drawn, Four helping Wild back to his feet.
The water had gone still again, but it was still frothy from the recent movement, and Time scanned its depths, looking frantically for any sign of Warriors below.
Nothing but dark water met him.
“I’m going to find him,” Sky said suddenly, marching forward as he pulled a necklace with a scale on it from under his shirt.
Time moved to stop him, prepared to argue that he couldn’t swim with a broken arm, but then the ground lurched under their feet. They were all knocked off-balance, and Twilight nearly dropped Legend with how harshly it shook. Time had to steady Wild, and they’d all barely regained their footing when something erupted from the pool, water splashing outwards and nearly soaking them as a laugh echoed around the room, unusually harsh and high-pitched.
Hyrule gasped and several of the others did along with him at the sight, horror rooting Time in place at the sight of what stood before them.
It was a Great Fairy, but wrong.
Her skin was ashen, her hair dull and lifeless, lacking any of the usual sparkle it should hold. Her dress was tattered, and the vines twirling around it and her body were dead and grey, like bleached bones of the plants that had once grown there. The only spot of color she sported were her eyes, and those barely counted, a sickly yellow and glowing with malice.
But worst of all was the sight of the large bottle she held possessively in her hand, long nails curled around the jar as she gently caressed it.
Warriors just barely visible inside with his hands pressed to the glass, soaking wet and looking absolutely terrified.
“Captain!” Sky gasped, and Time could only stare at Warriors for several moments, unable to tear his gaze away from the hero trapped inside of the glass.
Warriors met his eyes, his own unusually bright with fear, and all of a sudden Time was eleven again.
“Great fairy, we need your help. We can’t win this battle without you.”
Mask stood to the side as the captain knelt by the pool, the clash of weapons and screams of monsters and men coming from right outside. The squad they’d brought with them shifted uneasily as something howled, and Mask swallowed.
The Great Fairy was their last hope of victory here, and if she wasn’t willing to help them... it wouldn’t be pretty.
Right when he was about to grab the mask at his hip and see if he could do anything, the Great Fairy finally rose from her pool, leaning over the edge to smile at the captain.
“Of course I can help, little hero,” she laughed, bells in her voice. “...But not without a price. I trust you are willing?”
Something in her voice made Mask frown, but the Captain nodded without hesitation, determination on his face. The Great Fairy grinned at the confirmation, and leapt out of the water with a laugh and a twirl, soaking a few of the soldiers standing too close.
Then she snatched up the Captain, and dropped him into a bottle she pulled from thin air.
“Hey!” Mask shouted, but the Great Fairy waved a dismissive hand at him.
“It’s just until we’ve won,” she giggled, holding the bottle up so she could see the Captain better. He took a step back, eyes wide and uncertain. “Unless he’d like to stick around afterwards... but regardless, I need some help, and you’re just who I need.”
Her eyes glinted a bit.
“Let’s go, little hero. Show me how well you can swing that little sword of yours.”
The harsh laugh rang through the air again, and Time snapped back to the present as the Great Fairy gave the bottle in her hand a light shake.
Warriors looked ill.
“Let him go!” Wind shouted, tightly gripping his sword, but the Great Fairy only laughed again. “He’s not yours, let him out!”
“On the contrary little hero,” she smiled, unnatural and wide. “I caught him, so he’s mine. That’s how it works.”
“As a Great Fairy you should know that that’s not how it works,” Time said as he glared up at the corrupted fairy. “Release him.”
“No,” the fairy said plainly, and Warriors pressed his back to the glass as she held him up mere inches from her face. She smirked. “I haven’t had a toy this good-looking in a long time.”
Warriors lost what little color he had left, and Twilight chucked a boomerang at the fairy’s arm.
She flicked it out of the air with a tsk, the weapon clattering to the ground, and her gaze narrowed, the bit of red around her pupils seeming to grow.
“It’s not polite to attack your hostess.”
“Then release him!” Wild shouted, nocking an arrow and aiming it towards her. “None of us are staying with you, you creep!”
The Great Fairy looked at him, and sighed.
“Well then I suppose I have no choice.”
Dark magic glowed at her fingertips, and suddenly they were all scrambling for cover, most of them only dodging the burst of darkness she threw at them at the very last second.
“This must be the Shadow’s work,” Four wheezed as he ducked behind the same piece of stone Time had sheltered behind. “What else would be able to corrupt fairy magic like this?”
“It has his dirty fingerprints all over it,” Wild snarled from nearby, pulling out a stronger bow from his pouch.
“But how did he corrupt a great fairy?” Hyrule said in dismay, and Twilight yanked him out of the way of another harsh spray of dark magic.
“It doesn’t matter how he managed it, we need to get rid of it,” Time shouted over another harsh laugh. “And save Warriors.”
“How do we do that?!”
The Great fairy kept laughing, and the piece of wall they were hiding behind was suddenly destroyed, the Links scrambling away from the debris. The bottle was swung at them all as they scattered, and Warriors flew by in a blur of color.
Wild whirled around and shot off a round of arrows, several hitting their mark, but the corrupted fairy didn’t even seem to notice, still blasting magic and swinging her bottle.
Time ran forward with his blade raised, and the Great Fairy twirled out of his way. She laughed at his attempts to hit her, then slammed him backwards with the bottle she held.
Time managed to get his shield up, but he was still knocked to the ground, pain radiating up his arm where he’d taken the brunt of the hit.
He thought he heard a muffled cry from Warriors, but the bottle was swinging around too much for him to be sure. Wind covered him while he got to his feet, and Time joined the others as they tried to get close enough to the Great Fairy to actually fight her.
There was too much magic flying around though, dark bursts that made Time’s stomach roll when one exploded too close to him. Between the magic and the way the fairy swung the bottle Warriors was trapped in, nobody could get close enough to cause any real damage.
A larger ball of darkness formed in one of the Great Fairy’s hands, and everyone ran for cover again as more dark magic exploded through the room. Most of them ended up behind a larger chunk of stone, and Twilight slid down next to Time, Legend no longer on his back.
“This isn’t working,” Twilight growled, laughter ringing through the room. “Any suggestions?”
“I’d try the Master Sword, but I can’t get close enough,” Sky wheezed from nearby, his face worried and grim. “Her magic would doubtlessly help, but I don’t know how...”
“Oh! Light arrows!” Wind said with a gasp. He wiped some dust off his face, then began fishing in his pouch. “If it’s dark magic, then light arrows should help!”
“But will it hurt her?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Time sighed.
“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice. Hopefully this will purify her. We can only hope for the best at this point, we don’t have the strength for a drawn-out battle.” He looked around at them all. “If anyone has long-range light magic or weapons, use it now.”
Warriors needs us.
Dark magic hit the stone they were sheltering behind, and the Links scattered again, several grabbing in their pouches.
Wind quickly took out his bow, and pulled back an arrow, the tip lighting up in gold. It grazed the fairy’s arm, and she shrieked, the sound so piercing Time and the others put their hands to their ears.
“It worked!”
“Keep it up!” Time shouted, getting his own bow out.
He shot a light arrow of his own at the Great Fairy, but she dodged, eyes flashing with anger.
“Insolent boys!” she screamed, blasting more magic outwards.
Her attacks came twice as fast as she avoided the light magic, but her aim was less precise in her anger. Time found himself dodging so much he only had time to shoot off a single light arrow before he had to move again to avoid all kinds of stray shots.
He caught sight of Legend tucked behind a piece of stone, still looking dizzy, but shooting some kind of light magic anyway. Hyrule was beside him also shooting arrows, and the Great Fairy grew more and more enraged, shooting magic and throwing her bottle around much more violently.
There was so much noise he couldn’t be sure, but Time could swear he heard Warriors cry out more than once, and his throat tightened with fear.
We need to get him out of there, now.
Time paused in his assault, slipping behind a piece of stone and waiting for the Great Fairy’s attention to be drawn to the other side of the room. Someone cried out, and Time ran forward and went to a knee as he carefully aimed.
He shot an arrow directly at the Great Fairy’s wrist, and as it pierced her flesh, Time felt some kind of magic snap, a protection he hadn’t realized was there.
The fairy shrieked as she clutched at her wrist, and the bottle with Warriors dropped from her grasp.
“Captain!”
Wind’s cry was cut off by the bottle shattering as it hit the ground, broken glass scattering like fallen stars across the dark stone. Time was already running, and he slid to his knees beside Warriors, heedless of the glass he was crouching in.
Blood ran down Warriors’ face from a cut on his temple, and he didn’t move when Time gave him a cautious shake. Dozens of cuts from the shattered glass trickled tiny lines of red across his skin, bruises already forming from his time in the bottle. Wind ran up seconds later, and the sailor’s face went pale as he looked at the captain.
“Warriors?!” he said frantically, but the captain didn’t react.
Time quickly checked Warriors’ breathing, relieved when he felt his chest going up and down. But his leg was at an odd angle, blood still weeping from various cuts all over him, and Time swallowed, taking in how truly battered Warriors was.
His mind fell back to the war again against his will, the Great Fairy fighting with the captain in her bottle. Some of the men had muffled laughs as she’d done some especially odd attacks, and Mask had snickered at a few of them as well, ignoring the flicker of unease that had still been bothering him. His laughter had died the moment the battle had ended though, and the Great Fairy had shaken the captain out of the bottle.
Link had barely been standing, and as soon as the Great Fairy had left he’d emptied his stomach into a bush. He was shaking so hard he could barely walk, and Mask had had to help him back to camp, supporting him as they walked.
But he couldn’t do anything to stop the shaking, couldn’t take away the look in his eyes.
The bruises and other injuries the captain had gotten from being knocked around in the bottle stayed with him for days, but the fear in his eyes had stuck with Time ever since.
That was the first time he’d realized that his big brother wasn’t as unshakable as he tried to appear.
Warriors groaned, and Time snapped back to the present, looking down as Warriors’ eyes flickered.
“Captain, can you hear me?” he asked urgently, placing his hand back on Warriors’ shoulder. He flinched at the touch, breath stuttering, and Time quickly removed his hand.
“Warriors?” Wind asked again, and Warriors opened his eyes a little more, looking dazed.
And scared.
“Link, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Time said, throwing his shield up to block a stray blast of darkness. And despite knowing the answer, he added, “Can you stand?”
Warriors breathed in shakily.
“I...” he croaked, voice barely a whisper. “N... dunno.”
He begin to faintly shiver, and Time breathed out, looking at the fight, then back to him. The other Links were doing their best to keep the Great Fairy’s attention away from the three of them, but he didn’t know how long it would last with how battered their group was.
They were all flagging.
“I’ll go help them,” Wind said, giving Warriors a fearful glance before looking back at the battle. “...Can you get him somewhere safe?”
“I will.”
Wind nodded and ran off, lighting up another light arrow to shoot as he rejoined the battle. Time turned his attention back to Warriors, and saw that his eyes had slid closed again, his expression tense as his breath softly wheezed.
“Captain. I’m going to help you up, we need to get you out of here,” Time said. Warriors didn’t reply, and Time carefully pulled him up, not entirely carrying him, but supporting almost all of his weight. Warriors stiffened at his touch, then began shivering harder. “It’ll only be for a moment, hold on.”
Time stood, keeping his shield at the ready as he began to get them as far away from the water as possible. The Great Fairy screeched in rage again as she was struck by another light arrow from Wind, and Time heard someone shout.
Twilight dodged his way over to Time and Warriors, blood smeared in his hair, and wordlessly covered them as they moved further away.
Warriors’s head hung forward, blood dripping from his face as his breath shuddered, and Time didn’t stop until they were safely behind the stonework, carefully lowering Warriors to the ground. He didn’t even know if the captain was awake any more, and Time’s heart pounded loudly in his ears.
“Warriors?” he asked, patting his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”
The captain twitched a little, and let out a full-body shudder as the Great Fairy yelled. His eyes stayed shut though, and Time knelt beside him, unsure of where to begin. They had no supplies apart from bandages, and he could only do so much with those.
“Captain,” he said in a cautious voice, but Warriors didn’t move. “Link, where are you most hurt?”
Warriors only gave a small shake of his head, faintly shivering. Twilight made his way over to them mere moments later, and he kneeled beside Warriors with a wide look in his eyes.
“Are you okay, Captain?”
Warriors swallowed again, and looked like he tried to raise his head, but couldn’t quite manage to, still shaking and bleeding. He choked on his next breath, and Twilight looked at Time as Warriors’ breathing picked up, rasping and trembling.
“Warriors,” Twilight said more gently, fingers twitching like he had to fight the urge to comfort him with touch. “It’s alright, the others are handling things.”
“We need to tend to your injuries,” Time added, pulling out the few bandages he had left. “Your head is bleeding quite a bit, as is the rest of you.”
Warriors swallowed thickly, and Time watched as he shook harder than the leaves on the Great Deku Tree did when the first spring winds blew in.
His mask had cracked, the one he easily slipped on in battle and stressful situations, hiding his true emotions behind it. Warriors was trying desperately to scrape it back together, but he’d been struck too hard this time. Being put in a bottle again had slashed open scars that had been hastily bandaged in the first place, and now there was no going back.
Not until the threat was gone, at least.
Warriors’s breath hitched, and Time looked at him, bloody and broken, flinching every time the Great Fairy made a sound. Time’s hand was resting near Warriors’s own, and Time reached out, gently twining his fingers with his brother’s.
“You’re safe, Link,” he said quietly, and when Warriors didn’t pull away, he put his other hand on top of his. “Me and Twilight are going to patch you up.”
We won’t let her touch you.
Warriors’s fingers shakily clutched back at Time’s, and Time nodded at him, pulling out his canteen to hopefully wash any glass out of his injuries. Twilight stayed close, his sword still held at the ready, and Time was already planning how to convince him to also be patched up as he cleaned Warriors’s cuts. He hadn’t missed the blood in his descendant’s hair.
Warriors pulled in a shaking breath as Time worked, swallowing as he wiped some blood from his face, fingers shaking. His eyes stayed closed, but Time knew he was awake with how he flinched and kept his face as neutral as possible. He didn’t really succeed in that regard, but he tried anyway.
His other hand stayed firmly in Time’s though, and even though it made his job harder, Time never let go.
Someone shouted nearby, much closer then before, and Time glanced up, frowning as the ground shook beneath them. He held tighter to Warriors, and then jumped as Twilight shouted in alarm.
Time whirled around, and saw a face that should have been beautiful leering mere feet away from them, eyes blazing.
Somehow the Great Fairy had gotten past the other heroes.
“You... are... MINE!” she screamed, voice somehow lyrical and ragged. She stretched a hand out, fingers like gnarled branches of an old, dead tree, and her eyes glinted with desire.
Warriors finally opened his eyes at her scream, and there was such an expression of terror on his face that Time felt something inside himself snap.
He clasped Warriors’s hand that was still in his, and drew on the strength of his gauntlets to bodily throw him out of the way, tossing him towards Twilight. He knew the rancher would catch him, and in the same movement, he grabbed his bow again, calling on the dregs of magic he had remaining.
With her initial target gone, the Great Fairy lunged for Time, dark magic swelling at her fingers. The shouts of the others rang in Time’s ears, but as he drew back a light arrow, he felt strangely calm, even as the sickly feeling of darkness began to reach him.
He was doing this for his big brother.
Time released the arrow at the same time the Great Fairy shot her magic, and the two met in the middle with a shear of pure energy.
It threw Time backwards, and as a scream louder than any of the others rang through the room, something else seemed to snap, thrumming in the very air around them.
Time painfully hit the ground, an oddly-colored smoke rising off of him, but he lurched to his feet anyway. There was an awful smell in his nose and mouth, and his head spun as he stumbled backwards.
Warriors.
Where was Warriors?
Time heard a muffled shout, and turned, lurching towards the smears of green and blue he could see nearby. His skin burned as he moved, muscles screaming as loud as the Great Fairy was, and Time dove forward and covered Warriors and Twilight’s heads.
All three of them closed their eyes against the wave of energy that suddenly rushed outward, rustling their hair and making Time flinch. It only made his body hurt more, but Time gritted his teeth and held on, covering as much of Warriors and Twilight as he possibly could.
Then it went deathly quiet.
Time felt his hands shaking as he waited a moment to be sure, then pulled back, gently releasing Warriors. He seemed no more worse for wear, and Time exhaled, relieved at the sight of both him and Twilight unhurt by the magic.
Twilight was staring at him with a wide-eyed look, but Time ignored it, and somehow got to a shaky knee so he could look around the room. He saw the other Links picking themselves up, wiping blood off injuries, helping others stand.
The water in the pool had stilled, and was now light and clear, faint sparkles drifting on the surface. The whole room seemed brighter now, less oppressively heavy, and Time could feel that the dark magic had been cleansed.
The Great Fairy was nowhere to be seen.
Wild let out a weary cheer from the other side of the room, then listed to the side, Wind barely catching him. They both toppled to the ground, giggling a bit hysterically, and Twilight faintly smiled when Time looked back at him. His descendant still looked worried, but he was just as relieved the fight was over.
Warriors stayed unmoving halfway on his lap, blood still trickling from his brow.
Time swallowed, feeling again every injury he himself had sustained, and he slid back to the floor, placing his hand over Warriors’s again.
His brother’s eyes flickered open, and Time gave him a small smile.
“She’s gone,” he rasped softly, and Warriors exhaled, the sound exhausted with relief. “We did it.”
“You mean you did it,” Twilight added, looking a little awestruck. “I don’t know how you threw the captain and then turned around and shot that arrow barely a second afterwards, but it was mighty impressive.”
“Practice,” Time said with a small smile that hurt to make, and helped Warriors sit up. Warriors held on a bit tighter for a minute, then let go, still trembling just a bit. Time studied him worriedly, but he was interrupted by Twilight fussing over his own wounds, pulling away with a hiss as he touched painful skin. The magic had burned him... more than a bit.
Everyone shuffled their way over to where Time and Twilight were, giving them and Warriors concerned looks. Everyone was at least as bad off as them though, and both Legend and Four were unconscious, so Time thought they were all being rather hypocritical.
A sudden chiming noise rang softly through the room, and the heroes all tensed as the water in the pool rippled. Time recognized it for what it meant, but he still watched in suspicion when a head rose slowly from the water, hair glimmering a soft pink.
Warriors stiffened beside him.
The great fairy’s eyes were clear and bright as she looked around at them all, though her face was lined with a deep sadness. The heroes watched her in silence, hands hovering near weapons, and she let out a heartbroken sigh.
“I’m terribly sorry dear heroes,” the she apologized in a whisper, keeping only her head poking out of the pool. “Such a great darkness fell over me... I was not myself. I see I have only made your situation more dire, and I cannot apologize enough.”
She closed her eyes, and the part of Time that was raised alongside the children of the forest grieved when he saw the shining tear that fell down her cheek.
“I owe you all a debt,” she whispered.
“Healing us might be nice,” Wild spoke up, and Twilight elbowed him.
The Great Fairy didn’t seem offended. “Of course, Hero of the Wilds. It is the least I can do.”
She lifted her hands out of the pool, and as water poured from between her fingers, it faded into gentle sparkles that drifted around the room. They floated around and settled across the hero’s injuries, sweeping them away with a touch like that of flower petals.
Hyrule leaned into them, looking grieved, but calm as the sparkles healed him. Legend watched them in silence when he awoke, as did Four and Twilight, and Wind had a thoughtful look on his face as they sealed a gash on his knee. Sky sighed in relief as they twirled up his broken arm, and Wild faintly smiled when the sparkles trickled up his side, healing whatever the cause of the blood all over his hip was.
Warriors tensed as they reached him, not moving an inch as the sparkles sank in around most of his body. Time kept his hand on his shoulder as they drifted past, and Wind slid up to his side as well, both of them watching as they grew thicker around the captain’s leg and forehead for a few moments. The tiny cuts on his skin were sealed, and the bruises faded until they could only barely be seen.
Time felt his own injuries get healed as well, a smell like honeysuckle and morning dew accompanying the light. They soothed the hurt in his chest from the magic recoil, healed the burns and eased the aches and pains he’d already had in addition.
He waved the sparkles away from his scarred eye once they finished, then turned to help Warriors stand, feeling much more relaxed.
The captain looked relaxed as well, oddly enough, though not as much as everyone else. He still watched the Great Fairy with suspicion, even though his trembling had stilled and his expression had settled back to usual.
And he stiffened again when the Great Fairy’s gaze landed on him once more.
She looked at him steadily, eyes shimmering with remorse, and bowed her head. “My deepest apologies, Hero of the Shattered Eras.”
Warriors nodded, and didn’t look her in the eye.
The Great Fairy waited a moment, as if she was hoping he would verbally respond, then turned her gaze away from him and swept it over the rest of the Links.
“Heroes across the ages, I again offer you my thanks for ridding me of the shadows,” she said, her gaze resting on Time as she spoke. “If you wish to remain here and rest, you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish. The little wings should return with my release, and I’m sure some would be happy to accompany you.”
“Thank you,” Time said respectfully, and gave Warriors’s shoulder a squeeze. “But we should be moving on. I thank you for your gift of healing, and I’m glad we could be of service.”
The Great Fairy looked disappointed. But she nodded, and with one last grieved look at them all, slipped back into her pool, a few errant sparkles the only thing left behind.
Warriors drooped when it was evident she was truly gone, and Time wasn’t the only one who looked at him with worry. Nobody said anything about it out loud though, just stayed close, and told him they were glad he was okay. Wild thanked him profusely for pushing him out of the way, and Warriors waved him off with a painfully forced smile.
Wind merely leaned on his arm, and Warriors softly ruffled his hair, the sailor looking at him in relief.
They all turned to leave then, beyond ready to get away from the fountain. But a another soft chime caught their attention, making them look back.
A few sparkles were drifting on the edge of the pool, floating together into a vaguely cylindrical shape. The light swirled around, then flashed, before fading away to reveal a small, crystalline bottle, filled with a deep purple liquid.
Looking at it, Time felt oddly sad.
The Links all looked at the bottle with emotion varying from curiosity to suspicion, and Twilight was the one who finally stepped forward and knelt down to pick it up, his eyes going wide as he studied it closer.
“Great Fairy tears,” he said softly, lifting the bottle with great care.
“What do they do?” Four asked, and Twilight looked at the bottle in wonder.
“They heal any wound. And grant a brief blessing to whoever uses them, one that protects from any harm for a short while,” he said, and Legend whistled.
“I can think of some times that would’ve been handy.”
“No kidding,” Wild said with a small glance at Twilight.
“I suppose it’s another apology,” Sky said quietly, and Twilight hummed, about to place the bottle inside of his pack, then hesitated.
“...Do you want to carry it?” he asked, turning to Warriors. “I... have a feeling it was meant for you.”
Warriors shook his head, and looked away. “No. You can take it.”
Twilight didn’t press, and he nodded and gingerly put the bottle away. Everyone took that as the signal to begin making their way out of the restored fairy fountain, and one by one they stepped out into the sunshine.
Time squinted as the light reached his face, and he looked around at the forest they’d emerged into with wonder. It barely seemed like the same place they’d left earlier—it was like a spell had been broken, and life was returning to the plants and very earth around him. Time even heard a bird singing somewhere above their heads.
Everyone was looking around with content expressions, satisfied despite the tired way they held themselves. It was always good to see evil purged from the land. They’d done a good job today, rough as it had been.
Time looked behind him at where Warriors stood back from the others, still-damp hair shining in the rays of sunlight. Time wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened to him, except for the pallor of his skin, and the blood still staining his clothes.
Time moved closer and gently set an arm around his shoulders, light enough that the captain could pull back if he wished. He felt Warriors stiffen at the touch, but then he abruptly leaned into it, his eyes squeezing shut.
“You all right?” Time asked, soft enough to only be heard by Warriors.
“Yes,” Warriors whispered back, slowly breathing in, and then out. Time moved his arm from his shoulders, and turned to face him so he could see him better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much use in the battle.”
Time felt a sharp prick of guilt, and swallowed. He could still see his brother’s terrified face, the franticness with which he slammed his hands against the bottle, the way he’d been unable to stop shaking after getting out.
How still he’d looked, surrounded by blood and shattered glass.
“It’s hardly your fault,” Time finally replied. “I’m so sorry we weren’t able to free you sooner.”
“You did what you could. I didn’t even know those bottles could break, that was impressive,” Warriors admitted, his expression unreadable. “The light arrows were a good idea. Thank... thank you,” he said in an even softer voice. His shoulders gave one quick shudder, and Time hated how it made him feel. “For getting me out of there.”
Time swallowed, and leaned forward, lightly setting his head against Warriors’s. ”You would do the same, big brother.”
Warriors gave him a hint of a smile, and Time held him just a little closer as they leaned against each other.
They would still need to have a proper discussion of everything, figure out how the Shadow had corrupted a Great Fairy, try to make sure Warriors wouldn’t just brush over this incident like he tended to do. Warriors would doubtlessly try to avoid it, but... the discussion could wait.
For now... Time just wanted to enjoy standing here in the sunshine. The battle won, the danger past.
Warriors closed his eyes, and Time drew him into a proper hug, Warriors letting out a shaky sigh as he let himself be held.
His brother alive and safe beside him.
70 notes · View notes
captainkirkk · 3 months
Text
✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
Ted Lasso
ragged by amothandalight
Ted, back in Kansas and struggling with his return home, gets a two a.m. phone call from Jamie. It ends up opening everyone’s eyes to a lot of other things.
close my fist around something delicate by inlovewithnight
“Who’s that with Jamie?”
“His new girlfriend,” Colin says.
“She’s beautiful.”
Colin and Isaac look at each other, and for a moment there’s some kind of silent conversation going on quite literally over Keeley’s head. “We don’t like her,” Colin says finally.
“What?” Keeley frowns up at them. “Why not?”
Isaac shrugs, his eyes fixed on Jamie and Celia’s table. “She hits when she gets angry.”
HOTE/Nine Worlds series
yeah, with a viceroy like that it's serious by WhenasInSilks
Five (and a half) times Cliopher doesn't notice getting propositioned at the Jubilee, plus one time he does (and one time he does the propositioning).
response to a kinkmeme prompt: If Fitzroy decides to keep his name and fanoaship quiet during the Jubilee, he runs the risk of people finding out he and Kip aren't married yet and taking what they think is their last chance to shoot their shot with Kip. Bonus points if all the courtly euphemistic proposals continue to fly right over Kip's head but Fitzroy perceives every one and is Not Pleased.
Clone Wars
Lover's Waypoint by Skierunner
The Galaxy is at war and at first, soulmates are the furthest thing from Obi-Wan’s mind, but that grace does not last long. It lasts as long as it takes the first drop of blood to blend with Geonosis’ red sands. — A soulmate AU that treads closely to the canon timeline. When one soulmate gets a scar, the other gets a copy without the injury; multiple soulmates is default; and multiple types of soulmates (platonic, romantic, etc) is default.
The ground between unstoppable force and immovable object by des_pudels_kern
After a retreat ending in evacuation, Cody and General Kenobi stay behind with the remaining troopers to wait for the returning transport.
It’s a risk, but Kenobi’s presence guarantees that the transport will return for them, and the droids don’t know they are there. They just have to sit still and wait.
Then, in the interest of full disclosure, Kenobi very apologetically reveals an injury he deliberately kept to himself until the last transport was gone and Cody is confronted with the fact that he and his General might have very different interpretations of what counts as an acceptable risk, at least where it pertains to Kenobi’s life.
The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)
we carry our own weight by wyverning
Jeremy accidentally texts Jean instead of Kevin. Little does he know he's essentially thrown a life preserver to a drowning, freshly-abandoned Jean Moreau in the Nest.
BNHA
Future's History by Neelh for aloneintherain (Note: This fic was based on my old 'ofa is known au'. I'm not active in this fandom anymore but this fic is still such a wonderful read!!)
It starts, like the vast majority of socio-political messes and conspiracy theories, with a celebrity and an interview.
“My Quirk,” says All Might, “is called One For All.”
119 notes · View notes