#Symphony of Souls fanfic
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The Symphony of Souls
Chapter 1: Shadows of Accusation
In the mystical city of Shadowharbor, Ophelia Nightgale, a Netherkind bard and cleric acolyte of Mortilith, guides souls to the afterlife. When zealous Inquisitor Aldric Ironbane accuses her temple of heretical practices, Ophelia's mission to maintain the balance between life and death is at stake. Aided by her mentor, High Priestess Seraphina Mournshroud, and a mysterious, handsome Sourcer, Ophelia seeks to prove her temple's innocence. The story culminates in a confrontation that tests Ophelia's faith, newfound powers, and budding romance.
Shadowharbour was a town of both hushed whispers and great admiration. Ophelia has been raised with tales of the town's ethereal beauty and mysticism. Nestled within the boundary of life and death, ghostly figures, haunting and melancholic, walked side by side among the living. The town was coated in an eternal fog; swirling greys and purples made it hard to see your shoes, let alone three feet in front of you. Even while following the path she was directed to, Ophelia couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the labyrinth of towering buildings and narrow cobblestone streets. Chattering from the living and echoes of the dead's past life rang through her head as she slipped through the crowd. It was not the dead that she feared as she pulled the hood of her cloak further down her head. No, she was raised to respect the souls of the departed, love and guide them to the next realm. It was the living she feared. Back at the church, no one batted an eye at her Netherkind heritage. Instead, she was regarded for her gifts bestrode upon her by Mortilith, the god of death and grief. This was new territory, though; she rarely left the safety of the church walls, let alone travel this far out of her village. Despite being distracted by her whirling thoughts and anxieties, Ophelia finally found the landmark she sought: a gold street lantern twisted with vines illuminated a tavern sign, The Ebon Elegy Tavern. A tall gothic building that seemed to be built on an angle. High Priestess Seraphina knew the owner and assured Ophelia that there would be a room waiting for her to rest her head and plan her next moves.
The Netherkind girl pulled down her hood, revealing ram-like horns curling from her forehead. High Priestess Seraphina had told her to stand proud in Shadowharbour, to not hide her heritage like she would have to on the roads. However, despite her reassurance, she still felt the pricking sensations of fear as she placed her hand on the door. She knew she was not exactly unattractive if you ignored her hellfire lineage. Ophelia's hair, a vibrant, deep red hue with rich brown undertones, cascades down her back in voluminous curls that frame her. Her skin has a light pinkish hue that reveals her Netherkind background. While covered by her black robes, Ophelia was most proud of the ink that decorated her arms and shoulders. Ethereal depictions of skeletal hands, representing her beloved Mortilith's domain over death, intertwined with celestial constellations and stars. Rendered in shades of deep indigo and pale silver, symbolizing the celestial realm and the mysteries of the afterlife. When anxious, she would trace the swirls and patterns with her fingernail, finding comfort in the repetitive motion. Gods, she wished she could do it now, but even Ophelia knew it would be uncouth for her to strip down that much. Instead, she had to make do by gripping the silver amulet dangling from her neck. She brings the Ouroboros to her lips, kissing it gently and whispering a soft prayer that brings on courage and strength.
"O Mortilith, guardian of the final passage,
We beseech you in our hour of need,
As we walk the path towards our inevitable end.
Grant us the serenity to face the unknown,
The courage to embrace our mortality,
And the hope that in death, we shall find purpose.
Guide our souls through the darkness,
And may your eternal vigil bring us peace.
In your name, we surrender to the eternal cycle."
With one last kiss to the cool silver amulet, Ophelia pushed open the door, forcing herself to raise her head. The tavern was dimly lit by a multitude of floating candles, casting an amber glow that seemed to dance across the wooden surfaces. The main hall is adorned with rich, dark mahogany panelling and plush crimson velvet curtains, which frame tall, arched windows that offer glimpses of the city outside. However, it was the bar that caught Ophilia's eye the most. A polished black granite slab inlaid with intricate silver runes. Behind stood a striking figure with obsidian hair. If Ophelia had to guess, she would put the lady in her late forties. She had an air of elegance and allure that only comes with experience and a knack for holding secrets. She wears a long, flowing gown that shimmers with an otherworldly lustre, and a pendant with an onyx gemstone rests at her throat.
Her feet seemed to move on their own, walking closer and closer to the woman. Only when she sat at the bar did the loud beating of her heart quieten enough that Ophelia could hear the melodious strains of a hauntingly beautiful tune played by a bard in the corner stage. She thought she recognized the song, her finger tapping along to the melody.
"Welcome to the Ebon Elegy Tavern, A haven for those seeking respite from the shadows. A place where stories are exchanged, laughter mingles with soft melodies, and most importantly, where the line between the mortal world and the mystical realm blurs." The dark-haired woman smiled; her voice seemed to bring an air of comfort to Ophelia, allowing the young traveller to relax. Then, she realized the onyx necklace this woman wore had a small silver charm – an Ouroboros. This must be her, High Priestess Seraphina's friend and owner of the tavern.
"Eveline Nightshade?" her voice came out far shakier than she would have liked. Still, she desperately tried to keep eye contact, even when Eveline's green eyes twitched slightly.
"No one has called me that name in years; how on earth do you know it, or I suppose a better question is who told you that name." her long fingers gently reached towards Ophelia, wrapping around her chin and forcing her head up. It wasn't inherently threatening from the look of it. Still, her sharp nails pressed against Ophelia's flesh as if Eveline was just waiting for an excuse to dig them into her throat.
"High Priestess Seraphina", her voice came out as a pathetic squeak now, "My lady told me to find you when I reached Shadowharbour, that you would grant me a room." almost as soon as those words left her lips, Eveline's had pulled away, blinking as she looked over the anxious traveller in front of her. There was silence between the pair; Ophelia felt as if she was examined, like every little detail of her was being scanned and analyzed before Eveline burst into a high-pitched giggle.
"Oh, sweet pea! Why on earth did you not say so sooner? Here, I thought you were some sort of Embezzler. Sweet Seraphina and I go way back; in her last letter, she did mention something about a Netherkind girl due to appear on my doorstep sometime in the month." Ophelia couldn't help but wonder if her kind was common enough in the area that her just entering the tavern was not an obvious enough sign that she was who the priestess wrote about. Still, she bit her tongue on that matter as Eveline grabbed a glass from behind the bar. "So, you must be the little protégé she speaks fondly of." The glass was filled with a dark liquid and pushed in front of Ophelia. It smelt of burnt oak and bitter nettle, but Ophelia held her breath and downed the liquor.
"Miss Eveline, I would be very grateful if you could extend kindness and allow me to stay here. I have been sent by a high priestess to complete a trial given to me by Mortilith himself. I was told that the path would become clear here within Shadowharbour, and while I do not have, "The woman in front of her raised her hand, stopping her speech that she had spent days planning and practising. Eveline's eyes had changed. The playful nature had wholly disappeared now.
"You can stay as long as you need, child. I do not need gold for your board. Seraphina would have my head if she learned I took a piece from your pocket. However, your little mentor did mention you have a particular talent for singing." Ophelia felt her cheeks heat up; it was not a secret that back home, one of her primary roles in the church was to sing and spin the tales of Mortilith's word. It was her natural talent towards the art of music that first led the High Priestess to take an interest in the young girl, but still hearing that she so openly praised Ophelia to those outside of the church made her embarrassed.
"I expect you to spend your evenings using your talent to entertain, as much as I love the old bastard." Eveline tilted her head towards the elf standing on the makeshift stage. "he doesn't really draw in a crowd outside the usual. That is a fair exchange for board. Ophelia got the impression she couldn't refuse this deal, even if she wanted to or had some alternative option, so she just nodded and offered a small smile. "However, you must not mention Mortilith's name again unless you desire trouble." She was almost hissing the words, eyes narrowing as if she was concerned about who could be listening in. "By how openly you mentioned your name, I suppose you are unaware of the presence of the dear old Inquisitor that has laid his claim over this town?" Ophelia could sense that this was not a question she should verbally answer; instead, she simply shook her head. "Inquisitor Aldric Ironbane - a follower of the Order of the Radiant Crusaders." Once again, Ophelia stayed silent, leading the older women to sigh. "You must not leave your little church often if you have not heard of their growing influence, my dear. The Order believes in upholding absolute morality and eradicating what they perceive as evil and that my child includes Mortilith. According to them, worship of him is akin to heresy."
The only thing that went through Ophilia's head was a series of panicked curses. Heresy? Sure, many found followers of Mortilith a relatively morbid sect. Still, there was never direct hatred towards the followers, especially when non-followers came to them to aid their loved ones into the afterlife. Even those weary of Mortilith would not go as far as calling the church evil. Confusion was evident on her face; she knew her trial would not be a walk in the park, but now, with the looming presence of this Inquisitor Ironbane, her task just got twice as tricky. "How long has the Order been in Shadowharbour? Surely the Order can't have taken influence already."
Laughed filled the air as two drunk patrons retold some story to a far more sober woman, their voices filled with cheer and alcohol couldn't cut the tension that lingered between the two women. "there's influence… but it was not obtained willingly. Many of the folk here just try to keep their head down to avoid the gaze of the Order. What is why –' she points at the amulet around Ophelia's neck, "it would be best if you were conservative regarding this. You never know who will open their fat gobs to the Order." The girl took in her words, gently tucking the silver charm under her clothes. The metal was cold against her skin, reminding her of what was at stake.
"Thank you for the guidance, Miss Eveline." the owner cringed at the name but said nothing. Rather much to Ophilia's concern, she filled the empty cup again, perhaps as some cruel form of punishment.
"no need to thank me, child; just know that if that damn inquisitor comes knocking on my door, I will not put my neck on the line for you. I have my own secrets I need to protect from the Order." She pushed the glass closer to Ophelia. There was a twinkle in her eye that confirmed the traveller's suspicion. Eveline knew she was not a fan of the mysterious liquor. "Now finish your drink and head upstairs. The room isn't much, but it's free. And stop calling me Eveline, will you, Lysandra, these days?" She did not wait for Ophelia to answer. She quickly turned and walked towards a group of patrons, a large smile on her face as she filled their cups. Clearly, the conversation was over.
Ophelia glared at the dark liquid in the cup, struggling to work up the nerve to take a single sip, let alone finish it. Instead, she tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling and trying to calm her racing mind. Eveline was right; now that she was alone, she could feel tiredness creep over her. Her limbs felt heavy, and she struggled to process everything that happened, let alone think of the implications the Order of the Radiant Crusaders would have on her journey. Reluctantly, the Netherkind scrunched up her nose and finished the liquor in two large gulps, feeling the burning sensation travelling down her throat until it eventually caused a radiating warmth in her stomach. It still tasted horrible, but it helped quieten her anxieties. Tomorrow would be a new day; for now, Ophelia just wanted to curl up and embrace the sweet embrace of sleep. She could almost fall asleep right there and then on the stool before she heard the tavern's front door slam open. She jumped at the sudden noise and whipped around, somewhat surprised to hear that the Ebon Elegy Tavern crowd seemed elated at the sight of this mysterious visitor.
There stood a fellow Netherkind dressed in flowing, dark-coloured robes. The candlelight caught the silver adornment, revealing constellations and arcane symbols. As he walked into the tavern, we waved and stopped for small talk with a few of the tables. His skin was darker than hers, but what stood out to Ophelia was his hair. It was a deep black that flowed down to his shoulders. Strands of his hair appeared to have a slight iridescence quality when they caught the light, shimmering with faint hints of midnight blue, almost as if the night sky itself had been woven into his hair. Clearly, her kind was not that rare of sight given the reaction he received, but still, she was shocked by how… comfortable he seemed in a room. Her eyes never left him as he eventually took a set at the bar, leaving three stools between them.
He was a magic user. She could smell the metallic sparks of the arcane on him, something he did not seem to try and hide. Her gaze did not break until the man beside her cleared his throat. An eyebrow raised as he stared at her. "Typically, when someone stares so intensely at me, they either introduce themselves or pull a knife on me; what will you do?" Ophelia said nothing at first, still examining his features. They were finely chiselled, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His lips bore a perpetual hint of a knowing smile that both frustrated and drew her in.
"Ophelia… Ophelia Nightingale." She could finally remove her eyes from him; she wished she hadn't finished that godawful drink earlier. At least she would have something to distract herself with if her glass was filled.
He hums a look of amusement in his eyes. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lucius Darkthorn." Ophelia heard his stool scrape across the wooden floor before shifting to the seat beside her. If she had any doubt about his magical prowess before, they were gone now. She could almost feel the sparks of otherworldly power on him; it felt like small static shocks. Powerful and untamed – wild. "Ophelia" Lucius said again, almost as if he was testing how her name sounded on his tongue, "Can't say I have heard that name around these parts, and not to brag, but I am very knowledgeable on who comes and goes around here."
"I just arrived, Miss Ev-"Ophelia quickly caught herself. "Miss Lysandra is allowing me to stay here." Again, Lucius' eyebrow raised, and a small chuckle escaped him.
"On what condition? Lysandra isn't exactly known for being nice for free." he barely got the words out of his mouth before 'Lysandra' appeared, her hand swiftly coming down and slapping the back of the sorcerer's head. While it seemed like a playful gesture, Ophelia still flinched at the loud sound.
"Careful Lucius, if I'm not nice, then how come I allow you to keep running up your tab without payment?" Lysandra placed a glass of wine on the counter, sliding it in his direction. "A meaner woman would have had debt collectors chasing you by now." Ophelia flicked her eyes between the two, fearing an argument would break out. Instead, Lucius just smiled and took a sip of his wine.
"You know I'm good for it, Lysandra; I always am in the end." The barkeep didn't answer. She just rolled her eyes and again disappeared to other customers' aid. "Ah, I should be more observant. the lady knows how to sneak up on you, but I'm sure you've already figured that out if you're staying with her." Ophelia hummed and started to find herself relaxing. She didn't realize how tense she was until now; she could enjoy herself and embrace the warm atmosphere of the tavern.
"I suppose so, but you were right; it isn't exactly free of charge. I'm replacing the elf over there." Lucius looked surprised, flicking between herself and the man finishing his song.
"Oren? You're replacing Oren? Oh, thank the gods. I love that old geezer, but he has been playing the same three songs night after night." he clapped his hands together and grinned. His slender hands were decorated with intricate silver rings, small gemstones decorated with some pops of greens, blues and purples that usually Ophelia would find a gaudy display of grandeur that seemed to compliment the man in front of her. "I have to admit I am a little surprised; you seem like the quiet type. Never imagined you as a bard, but I suppose even I can be wrong occasionally."
Ophelia scoffed, feeling a spark of confidence in her. "I am not just some bard; I pride myself in crafting melodies that could make even the hardest of soldiers shed a tear." she felt an unfamiliar spark of warmth when Lucius grinned.
"Is that so? I suppose I will just have to see that for myself, then. A performance like that is not one to be missed." Ophelia could not quite place the emotion he was showing, but she surprised herself by not caring. In fact, she enjoyed the allure of mystery addictive. "Well, since you're new to town, I ought to offer my services to show you around our lovely little town. If you truly are as talented as you say, it would be a disservice for you to feel unwelcomed."
Now, she really wished she had another drink. At least that way, she had something to blame if he noticed the slight tinge of red threatening to paint her cheeks. "I suppose that would be alright. I can't say I really know my way around." Plus, this might speed up discovering what her trial from Mortilith involves. "Tomorrow morning, no later than 10. I'll wait for you here."
With a laugh and another sip of his drink, Lucius stood up from his seat. "I usually don't make an appearance that early, but for Shadowharbour's latest talent, I suppose I can do that. I'll be seeing you again, Ophie." Ophelia scowled at the nickname, but before she could complain, the Neither kind sorcerer had slipped away to a different table. Wine in hand and a lopsided grin decorating his face.
Ophelia took Lucius' departure as an excellent reason to take her leave and retreat from the bustling tavern that did not seem to have plans to empty out soon. Her legs felt heavy as she forced her body up the step, twisting stairs that led towards the room she would now call her own for the foreseeable future. She had spent the last week sleeping on a bedroll while travelling, so the thought of an actual bed relieved her weary body. The room was small; if she stood in the middle and stressed her arms out, she could easily touch the walls. A single bed and a standing wooden wardrobe were the only furniture provided, but Ophelia was fine. There was enough space under the bed to store her beloved Lyre, and the cabinet comfortably fit everything she had stuffed into her pack. She nearly collapsed on the bed, barely having enough energy to kick off her shoes before she felt her eyes grow heavy. Tomorrow, she would explore what Mortilith had planned for her, but for now, she was more than content to let sleep take over her.
#Fiction#Fantasy#fantasy world#fantasy fiction#fantasy novel#dungeons and dragons#dnd#dnd inspiration#dungeons and dragon s inspired fiction#original story#original fiction#creative writing#writing#writers on tumblr#chapter 1#The Symphony of Souls#tiefling#bard#fanfic#fanfiction#cleric#dnd fanfic#dnd facfiction#dungeon and dragons fanfiction#dungeon and dragons fanfic#writing community#writerscommunity
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You answered an anon about 911 fics and you finished saying that could recommend more! I’m new in the fandom and taking all the recommendations so if you want to give more, my ao3 and I are ready ☺️☺️☺️☺️
omg alright!! let me go through more of my bookmarks then hehe
Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
what a heart can do by bvckandeddie
dead reckoning by euadnes
takin my time verse by archerincombat
would you lie with me and just forget the world by colonoscopys
a spell on you (because you’re mine) by starkvandyne, tawaifeddiediaz
a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin
how you lean on my shoulder (how i see myself with you) by withoutthetiger
Traded by Princessfbi
i just wanna tell you how i'm feeling by calvingseason
i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by Aficatyourfingertips, brewrosemilk
the persistence of memory by withmeornotatall
stupid people. by brewrosemilk
dirty symphony by tawaifeddiediaz
Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars
Smoke and Ashes Brushed Off with Ink by Princessfbi
take me to the lakes by archerincombat
let's hear it for the boy by hattalove
Wait for me there by kitkatpancakestack
Ever After by ElvenSorceress
Frequent Flyer by whileyouresleeping
burn the straw house down by rarakiplin
maybe i’ll be brave enough by then by trippedandfell
Love Leaves A Memory by LeandraLocke
never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger
listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee
at the right time by elisela
wishing to be the friction by ipretendtobesane
Lifelines by hetrez
Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Leveling Up by lamardeuse
Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars
Agua Dulce and Other Sweet Things by TazzySnow
Gravity by rowan_wood
I'm cold but you light the fire within me by Beulaugh
if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics
you fill my head with you by Underhung_Aura
okay i think this is quite enough lmao, but if you do need more after all of these and the previous ones, let me know (because yes i do have more and more bookmarks lol)!! you can also check my #fanfic tag 😁 it's mostly buddie in there!
#alie replies#Anonymous#fanfic#buddie#911#911 abc#911 fic#i tried to diversify the authors like last time too!!#*ficrecs
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The Songbird and the Rebel
pairings: lucy gray baird x gn!reader
summary: you love lucy. you would do anything for her. including throw yourself in with the wolves in order to protect her.
warnings: canon typical violence, minor SPOILERS FOR TBOSAS!!!! reader is gender neutral BUT takes the spot for male tribute, first person
word count: 2.3k
a/n: my first fanfic in a while (leilani if you see this leave) part 2?
Lucy Gray Baird was a name known to most in District 12.
If you don’t know her from when her and her covey arrived in District 12 with an array of songs, then you definitely know her from her singing in the bar or by the hanging tree.
In the quiet corners of my heart, there exists a profound narrative woven with the threads of affection and admiration for Lucy Gray Baird. To gaze upon her is to witness a kaleidoscope of beauty, each facet revealing a unique charm that, when combined, creates an enchanting tapestry of allure. Her presence is a gentle breeze, weaving through the tapestry of my days, leaving me breathless with the ethereal magic she brings.
Lucy Gray's eyes are like pools of liquid moonlight, reflecting a depth that seems to hold the secrets of the universe. When she casts her gaze upon me, it's as if time itself pauses, and in those moments, I find solace in the silent language exchanged between our souls. Her laughter, a melody that dances in the air, resonates with the sweetness of a thousand songbirds. Each note is a reminder that joy is not just an emotion, but a symphony composed by the mere existence of Lucy Gray.
Yet, it is in the cadence of her voice that the true enchantment unfolds. Her words are like a lyrical river, flowing with grace and carrying the weight of untold stories. The timbre, a harmonious blend of warmth and tenderness, wraps around my heart like a comforting embrace. Listening to Lucy Gray speak is akin to traversing a forest of ancient trees, each word a delicate leaf that rustles in the gentle breeze, revealing the wisdom etched into the very fabric of her being.
In the quietude of twilight, as the world settles into a hushed symphony, Lucy Gray's voice becomes a lullaby, a soothing melody that cradles my thoughts and lingers in the corridors of my dreams. It is a voice that navigates the complexities of emotion, painting vivid landscapes of understanding and empathy. With every syllable, she unveils a tapestry of connection, forging a bond that transcends the mundane and elevates our shared existence to a realm where love is not just a sentiment but a living, breathing entity.
To be in love with Lucy Gray Baird is to be immersed in a story where every chapter unfolds with the grace of a sonnet, and her enchanting voice serves as the narrator, guiding me through the intricacies of emotion with eloquence and poise. In her presence, time becomes an ephemeral concept, and the symphony of our shared moments resonates in the chambers of my heart, an everlasting ode to the captivating magic that is Lucy Gray.
As the calendar inches closer to that dreaded date, the annual arrival of the reaping, a shiver courses through my veins, and the spectre of fear looms large in the recesses of my thoughts. It's a perennial nightmare, a cyclical horror that etches its mark on my soul with each passing year. The looming prospect of the reaping casts a long, foreboding shadow over the days leading up to it, like an impending storm gathering its strength.
In the district, where life is a delicate dance on the precipice of survival, the reaping is the grand conductor orchestrating the symphony of anxiety that grips every heart. The Capitol's merciless tradition, designed to remind us of our vulnerability, is an annual ritual that plunges us into a maelstrom of uncertainty. As the day draws near, the atmosphere becomes thick with a palpable tension, a collective holding of breaths that echo the unspoken dread etched across the faces of my fellow citizens.
The fear is not merely a response to the capricious nature of the reaping; it is an acknowledgment of the ruthless lottery that defines our existence. Every year, the odds are a cruel reminder of the fragility of life, and as the names are drawn, the spectre of mortality hangs heavy in the air. It's a twisted game where the stakes are nothing less than life itself, and the chances of escape grow slimmer with each passing year.
Yet, in the recesses of my consciousness, a tiny flame of hope persists. Three more years, I tell myself, just three more before the shackles of this annual torment are lifted. The countdown becomes a mantra, a whispered reassurance that carries me through the darkest hours leading up to the reaping. I imagine a future where the weight of this fear is but a distant memory, where the spectre of the Capitol's malevolence no longer casts its sinister gaze upon my destiny.
Survival becomes an art, a delicate dance between evading the Capitol's scrutiny and navigating the treacherous currents of our district's harsh realities. With each passing reaping, the lessons learned, the alliances forged, and the scars accumulated become badges of a silent resistance against the Capitol's oppressive grip. As the clock ticks away, the urgency to outlast this infernal cycle intensifies, and I find solace in the belief that resilience will be my shield until the dawn of that promised freedom.
The reaping remains an annual crucible, but with each passing year, the embers of hope burn a little brighter. Three more years—a finite horizon that promises liberation from the perennial terror that shadows my days. Until then, I navigate the minefield of survival, driven by the unyielding determination to defy the odds and emerge from the crucible of the reaping with the scars of endurance etched upon my soul.
Lost in the tapestry of my daydreams, where the edges of reality blur into the realms of imagination, I found myself wading through the ethereal landscapes of distant thoughts. The cadence of a country twang, like a gentle breeze, pulled me back from the reverie, and there she was – Lucy Gray Baird, a vision of warmth and southern charm.
"What's wrong, darling?" Lucy Gray's voice, dripping with honeyed tones, sliced through the cocoon of my musings. Startled, I looked up to find her gaze fixed on me, a playful twinkle in her eyes that made my heart flutter.
Shaking my head to dispel the lingering fragments of my daydreams, I stammered out a feeble response, "Oh, nothing, just lost in thought."
Lucy Gray's expression shifted to a quizzical 'really?' as she cocked her head to the side. It was as if she could read the unsaid, decipher the hidden nuances beneath the surface of my demeanour. Unable to support the charade, I sighed and admitted, "Just thinking about tomorrow."
Her brow furrowed with concern, and Lucy Gray, with a sincerity that belied the playful banter, insisted, "We're not getting picked, darling. Trust me."
The assurance, while comforting, collided with the grim reality that haunted the eve of every reaping. "Lucy Gray, you can't be sure. The odds are never in our favour," I argued, my voice laced with the weight of impending dread.
An animated debate unfolded, our words clashing like opposing currents in a tempestuous sea. Lucy Gray, with an unwavering confidence, insisted that fate would spare us, while I, burdened by the grim statistics of our district, could not share her optimism. The tension escalated, transforming a mere disagreement into a storm of conflicting emotions.
With a heavy sigh, I declared, "I can't afford false hope, Lucy Gray. I need to face the reality of our situation."
Lucy Gray's eyes darkened with disappointment, and her lips formed a thin line. "You don't have to face it alone, darling," she murmured, her voice now devoid of its earlier playfulness.
In the aftermath of our heated exchange, the room echoed with the haunting silence of unresolved tension. Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I stormed out, leaving behind a tumultuous atmosphere that lingered in the air like a palpable storm. The door swung shut behind me, closing the chapter on a disagreement that lingered in the corridors of my conscience.
As I walked away, the shadows of doubt and fear clung to me like a relentless spectre. Tomorrow's reaping loomed on the horizon, and amid our clash, the uncertain fate that awaited us cast a shadow on the camaraderie between Lucy Gray and me.
The morning of the reaping dawned with an eerie stillness, the air thick with tension as I stood flanked by my brothers, a tight knot of apprehension settling in the pit of my stomach. The proximity to them, a meagre comfort in the face of the impending ordeal, offered a silent solidarity that spoke of shared fears and unspoken bonds.
As the announcer's voice echoed through the square, a collective hush fell over the assembled crowd. My gaze scanned the sea of faces, searching for Lucy Gray amid the sea of anxious expressions. But she was nowhere to be found, and a gnawing unease crept into my thoughts.
The dread reached its zenith when the familiar twang of the announcer's voice pierced the air, uttering those fateful words that sent shockwaves through my world. "Lucy Gray Baird."
Time seemed to grind to a halt as her name reverberated through the square. A sharp intake of breath echoed through the crowd, and my brothers and I exchanged glances, our eyes mirroring the disbelief that clung to our collective consciousness. Lucy Gray, the beacon of defiance and warmth, had been ensnared by the merciless claws of the reaping.
A murmur rippled through the crowd as Lucy Gray emerged, her steps deliberate yet exuding an air of unrestrained rebellion. As she approached the podium, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable tension. Instead of submitting to the Capitol's ritual humiliation, Lucy Gray took matters into her own hands.
In a daring act of defiance, she slipped a snake into the folds of the mayor's daughter's dress, a calculated rebellion that unfolded like a subversive ballet. Gasps of astonishment and screams of fear spread through the crowd as Lucy Gray stood there, an embodiment of resistance against the Capitol's oppression.
Her gaze, a beacon of unyielding determination, sought me out in the crowd. Our eyes locked in a silent exchange, a communion of understanding that transcended the barriers of the Capitol's surveillance. In that fleeting moment, I saw not just defiance but a plea for solidarity, a shared understanding of the injustice that had befallen her.
The Covey, recognizing their songbird in distress, began to sing. Their harmonies, a haunting melody of sorrow and defiance, wove through the square, amplifying the rebellious spirit that Lucy Gray embodied. It was a serenade for a fallen comrade, a hymn of resistance that reverberated through the hearts of those who dared to challenge the Capitol's iron grip.
As Lucy Gray stood there, surrounded by the harmonies of the Covey, I felt an indescribable mixture of emotions. Anguish, for the injustice that had befallen her; admiration, for her unyielding spirit; and a lingering sense of guilt for the moments of doubt that had clouded our camaraderie. The reaping square transformed into a stage for a silent revolution, and Lucy Gray, with her audacious act, had become the unwitting protagonist in a tale of defiance and sacrifice.
Driven by a surge of emotions that transcended reason, I pushed forward through the tightly packed crowd, determination burning in my veins. The air crackled with tension as I reached the front, and my heart pounded in my chest like a war drum. Lucy Gray's name lingered in the air, a haunting echo that reverberated through the square.
As I stumbled towards the platform, the weight of the moment settled on my shoulders. My voice trembled, but a resolute conviction carried me forward. "I volunteer!"
Lucy Gray, standing defiantly on the podium, shot me a perplexed frown. A silent exchange passed between us, a question lingering in her eyes. Why would I jeopardize my own safety for her? But there was no time for explanations as the Capitol's relentless proceedings demanded swift adherence.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Lucy Gray gestured towards me, her eyes mirroring a silent plea for me to reconsider. But I couldn't back down now. I couldn't let Lucy Gray face the Capitol's brutality alone.
"I volunteer to take the place of Jessup Diggs!" The words hung in the air, a courageous declaration that seemed to confound the very fabric of the reaping ceremony. Murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the crowd, unsure if such a deviation from the Capitol's script was permissible.
The Capitol's enforcers hesitated, caught off guard by the unprecedented turn of events. The air was thick with uncertainty, the collective gasp of the onlookers amplifying the tension that permeated the square. Jessup Diggs looked bewildered, unsure whether to be grateful or worried for the unexpected twist of fate.
Before the Capitol's enforcers could make sense of the situation, Jessup was roughly thrown down from the stage. A jolt of realization surged through the crowd, the unspoken understanding that the Capitol's machinations brooked no dissent. I was seized by unseen hands, dragged up to the platform, and away from the tumultuous sea of faces.
As I was pulled away, my eyes sought out Lucy Gray, who now stood alone, a solitary figure in the midst of the chaotic spectacle. Her gaze met mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In that moment, I saw gratitude mixed with an unspoken sadness, a recognition of the sacrifice made in the name of defiance.
The cheers and protests of the crowd faded into the background as I was led away from the square, the consequences of my impulsive decision looming ahead. In the face of the Capitol's cruelty, I had dared to challenge the script, to rewrite the narrative of the reaping. The road ahead was uncertain, but as I cast a last glance at Lucy Gray Baird, standing alone on the podium, I knew that the seeds of rebellion had been sown, and the repercussions of my choice would resonate far beyond the confines of the reaping square.
#elijah writes#lucy gray baird#lucy gray x coriolanus#lucy gray x reader#lucy gray#lucy gray baird x reader#gn#gn reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#tbosas x reader#x you#tbosas x you#the ballard of songbirds and snakes x reader
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Gossamer Glades | SJY
jakexfem!reader. !! warnings: slight corny shit going on :) just fluff i guess...
wc: 922 [ authors note: just wrapped up with the final part of the Sunghoon fanfic i made, now I'm back to crafting these short pieces. ]
It was a delightful summer morning, ah yes, after stressful weeks of studying, staying up all night, and relentless pursuit of grades you’ve invested your soul into.
The path always comes with “endless” opportunities, like what the lady librarian told you last week. But she also warned that amidst those “opportunities”, there will be dead ends lurking.
That indented your whole brain for days now, hasn’t it? talk about your college applications? Specifically with Harvard, Stanford, Yale—the epitome of Ivy League aspirations— and also other colleges occupying your thoughts. What if every prestigious. No. What if every institution you’ve set your sights on ever since you were a child ends up diminishing you?
“Relax, we haven’t even seen the results yet” Jake reassures, his fingers gently weaving through your hair. “You’re freaking out over nothing” he adds.
more under the cut
You roll your eyes unimpressed with how he tried to soothe your worries with his comforting touch. “Easy for you to say because you were born a natural” you quip, a hint of playful sarcasm lacing your words.
“Hey, I myself have been spanked several times for not acing several yet simple Kumon drills back then” Jake admits as you rose from his lap.
Today, it was just the both of you, having a picnic by the lake, located between the town and its outskirts. It was some random “getaway” you both planned in the middle of the night during a Facetime call.
"Besides spending countless nights overthinking continuous rejection from colleges, even the ones with gates that probably have gold trimmings," you quip with an exaggerated sigh, “what other misfortunes are waiting me in this life” you say shooting a glance at Jake, whose brain is likely hosting a whole symphony, planning the best response to your endless rants.
He casts you a glance before swiftly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “Relax, Babe” his voice soothes “Life's journey has a way of unfolding just as it should.” He gives a soft peck on your lips before rummaging through the picnic basket.
Although his sweet gesture preludes, this even made you overthink more with the growing silence in the atmosphere.
“Well..”
“Yesterday I received a letter from Duke University” you trailed off, but it made him prompt a glance at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity waiting for you to continue.
“I got denied” you sighed, the weight of disappointment hanging heavy in the air. Jake’s face looked a bit sad if not a touch more pronounced.
“Did you hear back from them too?” you raise your eyebrows at his silent demeanor.
“I did” he said as he grabs a lunchbox out of the basket.
“Well, what did yours say?” your press, noticing the hesitation in his gaze as it lingers on you.
“You got in, didn’t you?” your murmur as your face dropped.
“No… I also got denied” he says as he open the lid of a lunchbox. You nod knowing full well he’s not being truthful.
“He got accepted, but he’s sparing my feelings by keeping it to himself?” you thought
You sighed, the thought still not fading away as you rest your head on your knees.
“Hey it’s going to be alright okay?” he comforts you, patting your back.
He gently tucks strands of your hair behind your ear to better see your face. "And hey, who needs Duke University anyway?" he adds with a playful grin. "There are plenty of other colleges out there just waiting for us to conquer them together."
“I’m already paranoid” you trailed off, eye rolling while looking at him.
Jake’s eyebrows both raised as if you were quipping a mix of fear and humor.
“Hm?” he mutters as if he did something wrong.
Your voice tinged with vulnerability as you meet his gaze with a pout "that you might trade me in for another Asian girl that impeccably dresses good, who probably solves quantum physics problems for fun and has a family straight out of a”
He cuts you out as he slips a strawberry in your mouth, enough to shut you up.
“Well” he teases as he looks at you with a mischievous smile observing your stunned reaction "does that silence taste as good as it looks?"
“Its sweet, isn’t it?” he slightly tilts his head as you munch on the fruit. He leans in, eyes twinkling “It’s as sweet as my love for you” he whispers, his breath causing goosebumps
“You’re corny” you say eye rolling at him which earned you his laugh as you glared at him.
“Well, because you think that I am going to chase after another Asian girl who’s much “better than you?” he pinches your cheeks “Why would I? when you’re already the best” he says as a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “I hope you know just how much I adore you," Jake adds earnestly.
He gently lifts your chin with a finger, you tilt your face to meet his gaze as he leans closer to you feeling the press of his soft lips against yours in a delicate kiss.
Just right after that he chuckles pinching your cheek once more. “Why don’t we eat the delicious food that I nearly burnt my hand just for you, hm?” he suggests with a playful grin.
“And just to sweeten the deal, it's made with all your favorite ingredients," he adds, winking as if he's just revealed a top-secret recipe
#enha x reader#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enha#enha fluff#jake enhypen#jake enha#jaeyun#sim jaeyun#sim jake
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When were Constantine and Charlie born?
How many languages do both of them understand?
Why did Lucifer forbid Constantin from learning souls magic?
How is Lucifer and Lilith's relationship like (i mean, give me an example of how they interact with each other?
And finally...why didn't they have children sooner? Or what made them want children?
Love your art and your AU, i really am looking forward to it, and I don't care if you are not a good writer, I need a full fanfic for Sinner's Symphony
1.
Constantine was born in 1812
and Charlie was born in 1818.
2. Both Constantine and Charlie know a spell that allows them to understand all human languages, but without this spell they can speak the angelic language, the demonic language.
Constantine speaks Latin, Italian, Spanish, Scandinavian and Japanese.
Charlie learned Japanese and Italian because it interested her.
3. They are kind of like Gomez and Mortica, Lucifer was the first person to treat Lilith with respect, and they became very close friends after spending time together in the garden, and then they became friends, and they both made each other very happy, and then they fell in love, and after the fall they became each other's confidant and the most trusted person, because they were the only light they could find in that dark prison.
They ruled their kingdom together and ruled together and ruled equally. And for 10,000 years they have had a marriage based on respect and love and they still love each other.
4. Lilith and Lucifer wanted children after establishing their kingdom, not because they wanted a future heir, they were both almost immortal, but because they wanted to start a family, they wanted to create a light in this eternal dark prison, but it was not that easy.
The reason they had children after 9,000 years was because Lilith kept miscarrying.
‘’there is a reason why Constantine and Charlie were born almost nine thousand years later. lilith and lucifer tried many things but lilith's blood was corrupted after she became a sinner lucifer's blood was pure because he was one of the 7 angels even though he fell
(in my AU also angel blood is like acid for demons it burns them directly) so the baby died before it was born. lucifer and lilith searched for centuries to find a solution and finally they came up with a solution (this idea is still a wip so I'm not sure)
if during lilith's pregnancy maybe both of them would transfer some of their life energy to the baby continuously maybe the baby would be able to hold on to life maybe that way the two bloods would balance and even though.
this would weaken them a lot during this 9 month period they took this risk and it worked. That's why they shouldn't exist, their blood should kill them but it doesn't. In fact it makes them stronger, in a way they are an anomaly.
''someone who shouldn't exist, who shouldn't be alive. but look what fate has done, I'm in front of you, upright and standing. and God only knows what I'm capable of.-''
I'm still thinking about how Constantine and Charlie have blood. I want to think about a special blood for them.maybe orange ıdk’’
---
I am very happy to hear that you like my drawings! I am also very happy to hear that you want to read my AU fanfic!
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Heartstrings and High Tea
Character: Neuvillette x Reader
Tags: established relationship, major fluff and romance
A/N🍨: I was listening to my favorite classical piece, Romance in E flat major op 11 by finzi, and please listen at this timestamp 4:04 till 4:30 (this is my favorite part of the piece) it's so good and that's where this fanfic is inspired from! I hope you guys like this!
“Ah, this tea is exquisite, my love.” Neuvillette remarked, savoring the delicate flavor. “What blend is it again?”
“Geranium, my dear.“ you replied as your brush dancing across the canvas as you captured his likeness. “And hold that pose, you're positively radiant.”
A hint of color dusted Neuvillette's cheeks as he attempted to hide his smile behind his fingers. “You flatter me endlessly...” he murmured, his gaze fixed on you with adoration.
“You deserve every compliment, my handsome muse~" you teased with affection evident in your voice. “...and your presence alone inspires me.“
Neuvillette chuckled softly, tracing the rim of his teacup with his fingers. “You've painted me countless times, my love. Do I truly make a good subject?”
“Absolutely.” you insisted and setting your brush aside to meet his gaze. “You're more captivating than any masterpiece I could ever create.”
Neuvillette remained seated in the cozy chair amidst the glass greenhouse garden which surrounded by an array of delectable pastries and steaming cups of tea, all serving as picturesque props for your painting. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of flowers, mingling with the warm scent of freshly brewed tea, creating a serene atmosphere that cocooned you both in a dreamy embrace.
As you diligently painted Neuvillette, your brushstrokes danced across the canvas with an ethereal grace, capturing every subtle nuance of his features bathed in the soft, diffused light filtering through the glass panes. Your gaze often lingered on him with a tender affection, your smile a silent testament to the depth of your love for him, a love that transcended words and found expression in the strokes of your brush.
Neuvillette observed you with a mixture of adoration and wonder, his heart swelling with gratitude for the blessing of having you as his fiancée. He longed to express the depths of his feelings, to convey how fortunate he felt to share his life with someone as understanding and lovable as you. But for now, he contented himself with basking in the warmth of your presence, reminiscing about the countless cherished moments you've shared together.
In this idyllic moment suspended in time, surrounded by the lush greenery and bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, Neuvillette found himself lost in a reverie of love and gratitude, his heart overflowing with a sense of profound bliss. And as you continued to paint him with unwavering devotion, each brushstroke became a testament to the timeless bond that bound your souls together, creating a masterpiece of love that would endure for eternity.
“You're the serenity that graces my weary eyes, my dear.” you whispered, your voice carrying the weight of adoration as you approached the tea table, seeking solace from your artistic endeavors. Neuvillette, ever the poet, met your gaze with a soft smile, his eyes shimmering with affection. Pouring the fragrant tea into your awaiting cup, he uttered, “You and your words weave a tapestry of enchantment, my love.”
With a gentle clink of porcelain, you both indulged in the comforting warmth of the tea, enveloped in a tranquil silence that spoke volumes. Neuvillette's tender touch, his ungloved hand intertwined with yours, caressed your skin with a softness that transcended words, his thumb tracing delicate patterns as if etching promises of eternal devotion.
In this silent exchange of love, every sip of tea became a communion of souls, each touch a symphony of unspoken vows. Lost at the moment, you found safe heaven in the simple act of being together, your hearts entwined in a dance of whispered promises and lingering gazes.
“Soon we'll officially be husband and wife, my beloved.” He whispered as your heart swelled with emotion at his heartfelt declaration. “To wake by your side each morning, to legally bind our love, and to have the privilege of calling you mine for eternity fills me with boundless joy.”
As Neuvillette poured out his hopes and dreams for your future together, you felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering love and devotion he offered. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, you conveyed your unwavering commitment to stand by his side through every trial and triumph that lay ahead.
Together, you had already laid the foundation for a partnership built on love, trust, and mutual respect. From open communication, comprehension, compromising to unwavering commitment, you both understood the importance of nurturing your relationship with care and compassion.
As the scene shifted from the tranquil greenhouse to the grandeur of the altar, time seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the momentous occasion unfolding. With hearts pounding in unison, you stood hand in hand with Neuvillette, your eyes locked in a silent exchange of vows that transcended mere words.
"I do." Neuvillette's voice resonated with unwavering conviction as he slipped the ring onto your trembling finger, a single tear glistening in the corner of his eye. With a tender kiss upon your forehead, he sealed the promise of a lifetime, igniting a blaze of passion and devotion that would illuminate your path forward as husband and wife.
In that electrifying moment, amidst the hushed whispers of cherished guests and the swell of emotional crescendo, you both embarked on a journey of boundless love and infinite possibilities. For one who once knew not the depths of emotion, to stand now, married, heart brimming with love – it proves: anything is possible.
#kefimenu#neuvillette#neuvillete x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#fluff#genshin impact#genshin oneshots#genshin x reader#genshin neuvillette
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The Little Smiling Mermaid AU (CONCEPT)
After a royal family dispute goes down in flames, Pim, the youngest child of King Steven, goes into hiding beyond the outskirts of his underwater kingdom to freely embrace his love of the surface. tagging along for the ride is a sassy green guppy named Glep and a dower yet softspoken lobster named Alan who would rather be writing another symphony but just HAD to be assigned to bring the littlest mercritter back home! It’s gonna be even harder to sway Pim back into returning to the palace after he falls in love with the swashbuckling Prince Charlie who hangs out with sailors and battles pirates! What’s this? That dastardly sea warlock Grim and his slow witted henchman Gnarly are plotting to trick Pim into being a pawn in their scheme to steal his father’s trident! How’s this fish story end for all these poor unfortunate souls? Stay tuned!
FANFIC COMING NEXT MONTH
#smiling friends#charpim#the little smiling mermaid AU#title by safekeeperscosm#the little mermaid AU#pim pimling#pim smiling friends#charlie dompler#charlie smiling friends#glep smiling friends#alan smiling friends#grim smiling friends#gnarly smiling friends#smiling friends pim#smiling friends charlie#smiling friends glep#smiling friends alan#smiling friends grim#smiling friends gnarly
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A Creepy Fanfic: The Big Dick.
A/n: This is a fanfic to indulge my inner pre-teens creepypasta phase (which was never really a phase🥀⛓️🖤🤘🏽😔) also, the woman above is not a face claim and you're a spirit entity thing. i'm obviously making up shit bc it sounds cool in my head. so yeah. enjoy.
warnings: Cursing. Death/dead people. Gore? sorta. Horrible jokes bc i think i'm hilarious. No use of y/n. Use of religion to bully another. Bullying. Sex (use condoms pls). Spanking. Name-calling (bitch and cunt). Rough sex. I think thats all... if I missed something lemme know🙂
pairing: ticci toby x you
Water was still when it was untouched. The water in Lake Black has been still since the death of that poor girl–it was so sudden, so awful–awful how everyone in that bumfuck town pretended they had nothing to do with her death. (♱) didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was sick, that her mind was broken since the terrible death of her husband, (♱)’s father.
The witches of Black Falls is what they called her and her mother. Rolling their eyes back and pretending to spasm whenever she passed them in school hallways and in public, reciting prayers in their Religion class to ‘ward’ her away, refusing her food in line at the church when she and her mother had been hungry–starving.
But no longer. A dead girl didn’t need to eat after all, right?
Wrong. Because (♱) was hungry. Starved. Ravenous with a need to sink her teeth into the rotting meat that was this town. A stain is what it was. All heretics.
A head split the still waters of Lake Black. Jet-black hair plastered to brown skin, droplets of water clung to her hairline before rolling down, connecting and parting over and again as she continued to rise. The fog that had settled over the water billowed around her body, rising with her slowly, the currents below swirling angrily and bubbled with the white-hot, scalding, burning anger of a woman scorned.
Eyes, white–having lost their iris and pupil–were all sclera and thin, red veins. When her pale blue lips kissed fresh air after having been lost to the bottom of Hell for so long a hiss escaped them. The water relinquished its hold on her as she continued to rise into the embrace of the moon on this beautiful night. The only companion she’s ever had her entire life.
The woman in the moon. Her daddy would make up stories about it. How she had been cast away into the stars for bringing darkness…darkness associated with anything bad. Yet, she was so warm right now. Anything would be considered warm compared to (♱)’s cold body. Undead.
She was going to eat this fucking town. And everyone in it, alive.
Drenched, scuffed sneakers dragged along the asphalt of the street. (♱)’s only goal was to reach the only person here who mattered: her mommy. Each step she took in line with a house on the block set it ablaze, screaming long having made its symphony in the night as they all burned alive. Skin shrinking and fat rendering–it was all so delicious. Her body absorbed it like she was eating, the wounds of her body fading as she gained more… ‘life’ into her.
And when she reached that house, the door opening for her before she could touch it, the sight ran flashbacks through her mind when she was still alive. Out of the mudroom, the stairs to your left in the hallway, up the stairs, the first door to your right was her mother’s room. The door creaked open and there her mommy lay. (♱) neared her and laid on the bed, wrapping her wet, slimy arms around her before weeping softly.
Because her mother was dead. A pill bottle in her hands, and her body cold, but smiling. To think she was ready to leave this place and be with her husband and daughter again, but (♱)’s soul knew where it belonged, and after tonight–it was destined to one place only.
“You shouldn’t be alive.”
Silence.
“I… know,” (♱) croaked. “But I am.”
“So you are,” they affirmed. “You’re gonna stir a lot of shit, but, you don’t know the rules yet so The Operator is letting you off the hook, but you need to come with me. Come with us, and learn.”
“If-if I don’t?”
Something cold pressed against her throat. It was sharp. “You die here, and your soul is sent straight to Hell where it belongs.”
(♱) didn’t care that the blade has sliced into her neck a bit. “I don’t believe in Hell. I don’t think I ever did.”
“All the more reason to come with us then. None of us believe in it much either,” they moved the sharp blade.
She sat up slowly and looked at them. It was a man. He had shaggy brown hair, light brown eyes, and skin as pale as the moon. Looking back at her mother, she leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before standing. “Okay,” she agreed.
A black tar-like substance webbed across the ceiling of the room before lighting up, fire licking away at the interior of the once warm home. It was the end of her old life, and the start of another.
“Y’know, I hate when you do this shit,” Toby grumbled. “It ain’t playin’ fair.”
“Playing fair? That’s for losers, baby,” (♱)’s voice echoed like a purr in his mind, the exact way she’d voice her words if she was in fucking front of him and not hiding.
“Callin’ me a loser, little girl?” he huffed, cutting down the greenery blocking his way.
His eyes flitted around the clearing as he looked for (♱). Ever since she joined them and fell into step quickly with the whole undead thing and learning the extent of her abilities-and them falling in love yada, yada, ya-she was the prettiest damn nuisance he’s ever experienced in his life.
Her laughter echoed from the crows above on the gnarled trees. He growled and huffed out a deep breath from his nose-
“Are you?” A boline knife shaved a bit of his five o’clock shadow. (♱) tilted her head at Toby and smiled, black lips parting to reveal pearly whites at her man. “Loser,” she whispered.
Toby chuckled and pulled his goggles up to rest on his head, brown eyes slicing over to her from the corner of his eye. “Alright, mama… you got me. Training over.”
He turned to her and pulled down his mask, revealing his own smile. A vicious scar ran jaggedly from the left corner of his mouth into a permanent sneer. A half-glasgow as (♱) would tease, a running joke after she had said it to hurt him during a particularly nasty argument. The skin there was taut and deformed, the flesh puckered and a whitish-pink, healed but forever marred. With his skin ripped and pulled back, teeth–which were slightly yellower on this side but just as straight as the rest of the teeth in his mouth–were on permanent display.
(♱) leaned up on the balls of her feet and pecked his lips. “What’s my reward?”
Toby raised an eyebrow and snorted. “You’re jokin’, right? This is part of the job description, sweetness.”
“So? Don’t I deserve a.. I dunno, a fuckin’ blowjob or something?” (♱) huffed.
Toby’s eyes widened. “Babe, what the fuck are you-”
“Look, after how I just fucked you in the ass with that win, I’d say I have a pretty-” (♱) squealed as Toby picked her up and threw her over his broad shoulder-“big dick!”
“Big dick, huh? I’m gonna show you a big dick, little girl, always runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth,” he smacked her ass sharply and then her thigh.
Toby walked toward their cabin, passing Tim and Jeff–Jeff whistling at the sliver of the bottom of (♱)’s ass on display from her ridden-up shorts because, of course–cursing a “Fuck!” when Toby cracked him on the back of the head with the stick of his axe. “You may not be able to close your eyes you lidless fuck, but watch it unless you want me to pluck them out for (♱) to use in her witchy shit.”
(♱) giggled, kicking her legs lazily and waving at the two other men. “Bye, Tim! Fuck you, Jeff.”
In their cabin, which was in a more secluded section of The Operator’s woods, Toby kicked the door open and shut it behind them. “So fuckin’ cocky and thinkin’ you can talk to me however, babe-” he dumped her onto the bed and (♱) giggled, biting her lip as she rolled onto her belly, Toby grabbing her throat and lifting her head to force her into an arch. His eyes looked into her own, seemingly sightless without an iris or pupil, but he knew she could see.
“Then what’re you gonna do about it?” she hissed.
His permanent sneer stretched.
(♱) bobbed her head with a voracious need for the mouth-ripping burn of swallowing down Toby’s dick, a thick oozing string of saliva filled with bubbles and mixed with pre-cum drooling onto her chest and the bed. (♱) was still on her belly on their bed while he stood up above her, a big and pale tatted hand clamped around her neck, rough fingertips digging into the joint connecting her skull and jaw to force her mouth open. Her clothes were sliced off with her own weapon, courtesy of her boyfriend, the bastard.
Those gorgeous white eyes, not as soulless as one would think, looked up at him.
And then there was the rough scrape of enamel against flesh. “Fucking- oh, you litte cunt,” he hooked his fingers over her bottom teeth and pulled her jaw down as far as he could before pistoning his hips forward. A wet gurgle came from her throat as (♱)’s gag reflex was triggered, her nose buried into his pubic hair where the pungent smell of sweat from training had become stale. (♱) gagged and choked, tears rolling down her brown cheeks as her nose burned, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft with each thrust of his strong hips.
And she loved it. God, hearts would be fucking floating around in her pupils if she had any.
“God- you’re fucking disgusting,” Toby laughed dryly. “Bet that pretty pussy is all wet just from suckin’ cock, right, mama?”
(♱) moaned around his length and he finally pulled out of her mouth, smirking as she panted-and also because she let his cock rest against the fold between her cheekbone and nose. “Huh? What was that?” he asked.
“I said… I-I alr..already told you I have a big dick,” (♱) panted with the most impish fucking smile.
Toby let his head fall, shoulders rising and falling in short intervals. He was laughing. “Alright, bitch-” he grabbed a handful of thick curls and (♱) whimpered as he pulled her up to her knees and then used both hands, tucking them between the back of her thighs and calves to pull her forward, making her bounce onto her back. With the wind knocked out of her, Toby was already pushing his turgid cock into her, the pierced head of his length breaching her first, cold and shocking.
(♱)’s hands pressed against his lower abdomen and he snatched her wrists together in one hand and held them in front of him as he fucked her, smirking as the sight of her back arching away from the bed and her hips canting forward, making a bridge. “T-Toby, oh my… fuck!” she whined, breathily. “Sho… big,” she slurred.
“Nah, that doesn’t sound like what I was just hearin’ sweetness. Fuckin’ say it. Who has a big dick again?”
“Y-you-”
He leaned down to her face, head turned so his warm breaths were spread over her ear and neck. “I can’t. Fucking. Hear you,” he snarled.
“You, baby- on…only you!” (♱) wailed.
“Good girl,” Toby licked up the side of her neck, her sweat making his salivary glands sting. He let go of her wrists and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, whining and pursing her lips which he responded to. His lips pressed against hers, tongues sliding against each other as they kissed, suckling and smacking. He pulled away the ripped side of his mouth making divots where the puckered flesh connected to normal skin, he was smiling. “Yeah, there we go… can’t even get a word out.”
(♱)’s eyes were lidded, the muscles of her neck loose as her head fell back onto the mattress. Just babbling quietly, legs crooked at the knee and splayed open, cradling his body between them. Her cunt gripped him tightly, small spurts of cream coating his cock in a thin sheen as he buried himself inside of her warmth over and again. “T-Toby,” she whined.
“Shh, I know, mama–m’gonna take you there,” he panted. His thumb strummed over her clit, his hips stuttering every time she clenched too tight around him, jaw falling open so his ragged breaths could fall from his lips. His free hand wrapped around her throat and she bit her lip and he could tell she was looking at him, straight into his eyes.
It felt like electricity crackling through her nervous system, each shock waking her up but the lack of proper oxygen flow making her dizzy and hazy.
Toby’s balls, heavy and tight–churning with cum–pulled upward, the seam of his sac making the separation of each ball prominent. (♱) sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth that developed into a groan as she was right there. Right… there!
White-hot heat coiled and burst in (♱)’s belly, lava overflowing and extending through her body as her toes curled and her muscles contracted and trembled. Toby pressed her thighs against her chest, her pussy squeezing around him so tight that it forced him out of her, her squirt sluicing over him while he humped himself to completion between the chubby folds of her sweet cunt. His cockhead dipped between her pressed together thighs until it was jumping and twitching, thick ribbons of cum streaming over her plump lips, dripping down her brown skin.
He sighed, grabbing his shaft and running it up and down the seam of her pussy until she whined. “Alright, alright, m’done,” he chuckled.
“R-remind… remind me to p-piss you off-” she lifted her head and smirked at him- “more often.”
Toby leaned down on the bed, the muscles of his back shifting and rippling. “Sweetness, you can piss me off as much as you want as long as you remember one thing at the end of the day: I’m the one with the big dick in this relationship.”
#x black fem reader#x black reader#creepy#creepypasta#platonic#fulfilling my inner child#hope you liked it i dont know if it should be a series#it prolly should be to make sense of everything happening but whatever
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Ace of Spades Minami - Soul of Symphony -
As the Ace of the Realm of Dreams, Minami is a bard with great aspirations. In his cheerful songs he tells stories of dreams and hope, inspiring others to follow their path to happiness and success. His own source of inspiration and main muse is, of course, King Yuuri, whom he admires like no one else.
This art was made for the giant Yuuri!!! On Cards Collaboration. Check out the art for all the other cards! The Yuuri!!! On Cards blog will post a masterpost this sunday.
There will also be short fanfics for many of the cards in this ao3 collection and/or linked in the masterpost.
I had SO much fun working for this collab and going wild on the royalAU theme with everyone involved!
#yuri on cards#yoi#yoi fanart#yuuri on ice#yuuri on ice fanart#minami kenjirou#fanart#collab#myart#royal au
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Dis is a Killian Jones x reader fanfic cuz I'm a sucker for this man and I know you are too🌚💕
From the days of your childhood, You and Hook had been inseparable friends in the charming coastal town. You shared laughter, dreams, and a bond that weathered the storms of time.
On this particular evening, as the sky painted itself in hues of twilight, You found yourself sitting by the familiar shore, your heart heavy with the weight of your struggles. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mirroring the gentle cascade of the nearby waves.
Suddenly, a familiar presence enveloped her. It was Hook, her childhood companion, drawn by an unspoken connection that transcended the years.
"Hey...are you okay?"
It was just four words, but they were enough to make you break down.
"It's too much Killian. I can't do this anymore," You replied, with a wavering voice.
He wrapped his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace that felt like coming home.
With his arms encircling you, Hook whispered soft, soothing words in your ear, his voice a symphony of warmth and reassurance. He spoke of your shared memories, of endless adventures and the unbreakable bond you held. He painted a picture of resilience and hope, reminding you of your strength and the love that surrounded you.
As you cried softly on his shoulder, Hook held you close, his whispered promises acting as a balm to your weary soul. His presence was a sanctuary, a safe harbor in the tempest of your emotions.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The world faded away, leaving only your intertwined hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of the ocean. The embrace was a testament to your enduring friendship, a silent vow that no matter the hardships, you would always be there for each other.
With the echo of his whispered words lingering in your heart, You felt a glimmer of hope rising within you. You knew that with Hook by your side, you could weather any storm that life threw your way.
---
#ouat#killian jones#fluff#x reader#captain hook#a bit angsty#soft girl#romance#romantic#peter pan#once upon a time#babying#fem reader#fem!reader#fanfic
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Scars in the soil
Fanfic With @extraordinarygrrls
In the pitch-black room, Milton stood alone, the darkness enveloping him like a suffocating shroud. He put on his shirt and tie with mechanical precision, his movements devoid of emotion. The weight of his responsibilities bore down on him, a crushing burden that threatened to crush his very soul.
"Another criminal assignment, another preparation for being undercover. Will I be able to do it? Because who if not me?" Dammers whispered, the words carrying the weight of a thousand shattered dreams. There was no one to answer, no one to offer solace in the abyss of his existence.
His own reflection in the cracked mirror seemed to sneer back at him, a distorted echo of the man he used to be. "You're just a pawn, Dammers." he muttered, the words bitter on his tongue. "A pawn in a game where no one truly wins."
As an FBI agent, Milton was a mere shell of the person he used to be. His superiors demanded his sacrifice, counting on him to delve into the darkest corners of humanity. Others had long abandoned the belief in his humanity; they saw him as a tool, a weapon to be wielded against the monsters he hunted.
"No help, no support..." he said, his voice rising with a bitter edge. "Just endless missions, each one darker than the last. Is this justice, or is it simply revenge wrapped in a badge?"
With a trembling breath, he squared his shoulders, his heart as heavy as lead. He stepped into the unforgiving night, the city streets now echoing with the hollowness of his existence. Each step he took resonated with the desolation within him, a symphony of despair in the face of an uncaring world.
In his heart, Dammers knew that the challenges ahead were insurmountable, the darkness he faced eternal. Despite his mental and emotional exhaustion, he moved forward, not out of determination, but out of sheer habit, a broken soul condemned to repeat his tortured existence.
His words hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth echoing in the darkness. "Not the spirit of a true agent, but the remnants of a man who has lost everything, including himself, to the relentless pursuit of justice in a world that had long forgotten what it meant to be humane."
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(A/N)
Hey guys! This fanfic is inspired by songs from Rio, and I couldn’t help but write short fluffs just expanding on everyone’s lives before the war. I’ve already established a storyline that leads to the main plot of the second movie and beyond, but, in the buildup, here are some chill fics! Enjoy!
This is for entertainment only. Avatar belongs to James Cameron. I also do not own you, the reader.
Hello, Goodbye - Chapter 1 (Next Chapter >)
Neteyam x Reader
Lunch was something that every warrior looked forward to after a morning of training. Entering his family's kelku along with his father, he greeted his mother and sister before sharing a meal.
He gave his mom a toothy smile after she commended him for his hunt.
"The time has come everyone! My baby tsmuke is ready to sing her first song to Eywa!" Tarsem shouted well into the afternoon with a hit of a dried-up puffball, the consistent pops emphasizing his excitement.
Jake and Neytiri perked up at the announcement, quickly cleaning up the finished vey. Neteyam cocked an eyebrow at Kiri's excitement, one of the top warriors of the clan, his idol besides his father, had a sister?
Making his way down the tree and walking beside his bored brother, he whispered a question to the happy Na'vi his age. "Kiri, do you know who Tarsem's sibling is?"
The girl couldn't contain her smile after sticking her tongue out at his apparent cluelessness. "I'm surprised you don’t, considering you hover around him like a shadow."
"For real, even mom brought her up a couple of times because of their sa’nok," Lo'ak snickered which earned him a pinch to the ear.
"Because Ninat is a wonderful mother for teaching her two kids some manners." Neytiri pointedly said, and Jake chuckled at her tone.
"Tarsem has been talking non-stop about an unexpected performance we'd want to see, so I'm guessing it's this one." His dad added, "One of them got their mother's talent, while the other from their father's."
As they stopped at a clearing on one side of the Tree of Souls, Neteyam took an available seat next to Jake. "So she’s not a warrior like her brother?"
To say Neteyam never paid any attention to the kids their age because of his training as Olo'eyktan would be assuming the same critical views of the clan’s elders. He probably did already meet her, they just weren't past acquainted to talk about their family lives.
Why would they? Those topics were reserved for adults. He, Lo'ak, and his other friends had only really talked about who could make the most accurate Banshee noise and who had the best parents. (Of course, since Neteyam always won this, they'd stopped asking that question ever again.)
"No, but she's currently in training to be one of the best singers in the clan," Jake told him, eyes focused on the musical instruments set before them.
And that's his answer. Since he was a warrior in training, he was always surrounded by the same group of people. If somebody were to ask him if he could name one of the healers in the clan, he would most likely just utter his grandmother's name.
Still, he wished he knew who Tarsem's sister was so Lo'ak would've stopped teasing him about his "L" the whole walk from their place.
From the center of the crowd, Ninat and a few other Na'vi that Neteyam guessed were also aypamtseotu, started making a symphony of clicks and lively thuds to gain everyone's attention and introduce the singer. Of course, Neteyam has watched a few of these performances before either during rituals or leisure, but, they were almost always led by the older Na'vi women.
"All the birds of a feather
Do what they love most of all
We are the best at rhythm and laughter
That's why we love festival"
Neteyam's eyes which were previously fixed on Tarsem's proud gaze shifted to the owner of the young but melodic voice. A short Na'vi girl, about his age, was swaying her arms to the tune of her own making, giving her the illusion of a bird.
Your smile was stretched in glee as you walked around the crowd, gaining each Na’vi’s attention, continuing to sing the very first song Eywa had inspired you to make.
Neteyam was impressed for sure by your talent, but his eyes also widened in recognition when he saw the feathers in your hair. Those two colors… were something he swore he'd never forget a few years ago before all his training had started, that one humid day when he'd stormed off angrily in the direction of his family's pod.
You two were arguing about who said "hi" first to Tarsem when the young tsamsiyu walked past after a greeting. Neteyam has been raised punctual, so for you to show up a few minutes later after he did to watch the training, claiming you'd said hello to his "big brother" before he did, set a fuse in him that led to a full-blown argument that was stopped by none other than Tarsem himself.
Looking back, he supposed considering the warrior was scolding you for your behavior, it was pretty obvious that you two were related. However in his defense, when you're six and you're just so mad at someone, you seem to forget rationale and just remember the striking qualities of said event.
And that was the bright-colored feathers woven into your hair, angrily bouncing up and down just in front of his eyes as your younger self shouted back at him, nitpicking at his height.
The irony in that though was you're the short one now.
Your wide pupils met his and you smirked. The groan he let out was stopped midway by a slap to the arm by his father who had mistaken it as caused by something else.
"Be respectful to (Name.)"
But really, he was just upset that it turned out you were right.
You did say "hi" first to Tarsem.
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SAPPHIC ROMANCE
ORIGINAL FANFIC
THE DAY YOU HEALED MY SOUL
Main characters Kit and Jade
Parallel Universe
PART 4
Titre : AN EMERGING FRIENDSHIP.
Upon their arrival, a symphony of aromas wafted from the colorful stalls overflowing with tropical fruits, exotic spices, and artisanal products, accompanied by the sounds of vendors calling out their enticing offers. The intoxicating scents of local cuisine mingled with the spicy aromas of fresh herbs and the delightful fragrance of freshly caught fish. The stalls were adorned with piles of golden mangoes, juicy pineapples, and vibrant-toned bananas. Exotic-shaped vegetables and brightly colored spices added vibrancy to this lively and colorful market.
The merchants were smiling warmly, offering samples of exquisite fruits and traditional seafood dishes. The air was filled with lively conversations and a gentle ambient music played by a local band.
Kit took a deep breath. "It's incredible, Jade. A real little tropical paradise."
Jade nodded, joyful. "There are so many delicious choices. I often come here with my sister or my mother to shop for the restaurant. Come, let's pick out some treats for you."
Jade was warmly greeted by all the merchants as they made their way through the bustling crowd. They stopped here and there, tasting pieces of fruit and chatting with the sellers.
They found themselves in front of a seafood stall, where large, freshly caught, succulent red prawns were displayed and ready to be enjoyed. Jade made a joke that made Kit laugh. "That's Scorpia."
She chatted with every vendor, delighted to see her and curious to meet her new friend.
Spice Vendor: "Jade, sweetheart, how are you? Need some of our magical spices today?"
— Absolutely, Juan. Let me introduce you to Kit; she'll be working at the restaurant. I'm introducing her to our flavors."
— Welcome, young lady. If our Jade is sharing this moment with you, it means you mean a lot to her."
— Don't mind Kit, Juan loves to joke around
The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, and Kit was feeling more and more integrated into the island community thanks to Jade.
They continued their stroll and stopped in front of the fruit vendor.
— Kit, let me introduce you to Lucia; she grows the best mangoes on the island.
— It's good to see you, Jade. Who is this lovely friend ?
— Oh, let me introduce you to Kit. Our bartender
— Welcome to our place. A friend of Jade's is already a friend to all of us.
— Thank you, Lucia.
Jade's reputation and kindness seemed to have a positive impact on everyone she met. Kit felt fortunate to be accompanied by someone so well-liked and kind.
— You see, Kit, each person here is like a piece of the puzzle that makes up this island. That's what makes it so special.
— Lucia handed a mango to Kit. "Let me offer you one of our best mangoes. They're sweet and delightfully juicy. Perfect for a day as hot as this one."
Kit accepted timidly. "Thank you.
She took a bite of the ripe fruit, savoring the sweet and juicy taste. A trickle of juice ran down her chin, which she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand.
Jade grabbed a paper napkin that Lucia handed her and approached Kit gently. "Let me help you."
With tenderness, she gently wiped the mango juice from her friend's face. Their eyes briefly met. In that moment, Kit felt the weight of her grief transform into a deep connection with Jade.
Feeling a bittersweet embarrassment, she sought an escape from this sudden intimacy and turned to Lucia, who was waiting with an amused smile.
— It's really delicious. Thank you.
She was trying to regain her emotional stability, refusing to forget Emma and the real reasons for her visit.
— Ready to head back ?" Jade asked with a smile.
They left the local market. Kit carried with her the taste of the island and the excitement of this morning filled with discovery.
*******
They returned to the apartment, arms laden with bags brimming with fresh and assorted products.
— Thank you, Jade, for taking me to the market.
— You're welcome. I loved showing you this part of our life," she replied while placing the bags on the table.
They began to unpack the groceries.
— These mangoes are truly delicious," Kit exclaimed as she took the fruits and placed them in a bowl.
— Oh, absolutely. We make some excellent cocktails with.
They continued to unpack groceries while chatting. Kit was feeling more and more comfortable with Jade. This day had created a special bond.
As they worked side by side, their hands inadvertently brushed against each other. A shiver ran down Kit's spine. Her fingers made contact with Jade's, and this simple touch triggered a flood of emotions in her. On one hand, there was this feeling of closeness with Jade; all her movements were filled with tenderness. But at the same time, there was this pain that overwhelmed her. And this simple sensation of Jade's hand, though soothing, brought back the presence of Emma.
She quickly withdrew her hand and averted her gaze, hoping that Jade wouldn't notice the emotional turmoil raging within her. The two friends resumed their tasks, but Kit remained acutely aware of the connection, both comforting and painful, growing between them.
It was at that moment that Jade's phone rang. Kit felt relieved.
"Yes, Mom. Everything's fine. I was at the market with Kit... Alright, I'll tell her and I'll join you"
She hung up and looked at her friend. "I'm sorry. It seems my mom needs me. I have to go."
— Of course.
— However, you're eating with us. Don't forget your itinerary.
— Oh, I don't want to impose, Jade. It's really kind of her but…
— You know, sharing a meal at our place is a way of showing affection.
Grateful for the warm welcome, Kit gave Jade a sincere smile.
— Thank you for making me feel at home here.
— Well, you're here for a while, so you might as well feel comfortable.
Kit hesitated for a moment before speaking.
— Jade, thank you for showing me this beautiful part of your world.
— I hope you'll let me into yours as well.
Jade left, leaving Kit with mixed feelings of gratitude and pain.
She found herself alone, emotionally lost, her thoughts centered on Emma.
"Everything I experience here is for you. My heart belongs to you," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness and pain.
*******
— Why did you bring Kit to our secret refuges! You know they're reserved for our family! » Scorpia exclaimed furiously.
— I understand, but you should have seen the wonder in her eyes. It was like thousands of stars lighting up," Jade spoke calmly and serenely.
— Oh, no, don't tell me...," Scorpia interrupted, her anger mixed with concern. "Pull yourself together; you're headed for disaster. There's no place for you in her life or her heart, for that matter!
— I just want to be there for her, nothing more.
— What will you do when she leaves? Have you forgotten the pain Grace caused you?
— Kit has nothing in common with Grace.
— How can you be so sure? You don't even know her!
— Cause she came to honor the memory of her lost love. When she talks about it, you can feel so much passion but also immense sorrow.
Scorpia's sharp words awakened an old pain in Jade, the memory of the day Grace broke her heart. The recollection was painful.
*******
The two sisters were sitting on the beach that bordered the family restaurant, watching the waves break on the shore. The wind gently blew through their hair.
Scorpia sensed the sadness in her sister's eyes. "Is everything okay?"
Jade stared at the horizon, then suddenly burst into tears, crying her heart out. It was a deep pain she was expressing, her breath hitching between each shed tear.
Scorpia held her in her arms. "What happened ?" She asked the question even though she knew the answer.
— Grace left me. She claimed she found someone else who could give her more than I ever did.
Scorpia was both deeply saddened and incredibly angry at the person who had just broken her sister's heart. She couldn't hide her emotions.
— I never liked her. If I ever run into her, I… (She held her sister tightly, as if trying to contain her anger.) I'm sorry you have to go through this. I'm here, little sister. I won't let anyone hurt you again. I just hope you won't let this wound stop you from loving again. You deserve to be loved the way you love others.
Scorpia's anger pulled Jade out of her sad memories.
*******
The tension was palpable between the two sisters.
"I haven't forgotten, Scorpia, what you told me after you comforted me," Jade said.
Melissa arrived at that moment, putting an end to the argument.
"Kit has just arrived."
Jade joined her, leaving her sister with her mother.
— Honey, you shouldn't have brought up Grace's name. Arguing with your sister won't help and won't change her mind. She's an adult and will make her own decisions.
— An adult!!!! With her crazy dreams!!! And... She shouldn't be getting attached to Kit like this, in such a short time. Mom, we all know that sooner or later Kit will leave, and Jade will be hurt. (Scorpia couldn't contain her anger.)
— Feelings aren't something we can control, and they're not limited by time. Sometimes, it sweep us up instantly, without warning. That's the magic of human connections. Neither you nor I can predict what tomorrow will bring. (Melissa spoke to her daughter, her gaze soothing, hoping to calm her anger.)
Scorpia let out a sigh. "I've always been there to fix her mistakes, but this time, I don't think I can."
Melissa placed a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Scorpia, my honey, you can't control your sister's feelings. Whatever happens, it's important that we're there for her, that we support her, even if we don't fully understand her. Let's go eat."
"I have things to do."
*******
The meal had taken place in a friendly atmosphere, but Scorpia's absence was a silent reminder of her argument with Jade.
While Kael had enthusiastically spread out a map of the island on the table, he had started showing Kit all the beautiful places to visit. Each of the descriptions was filled with anecdotes, fascinating details, and personal stories, making each location even more appealing.
Jade slipped gently into the conversation, adding a touch of humor to it, although the weight of the argument with her sister still lingered in her mind. She wished she could share this warm atmosphere with her sister, to show her how special Kit was. She hoped that with time, Scorpia would get to know her and eventually accept her presence.
« By sharing each of our adventures on this island with her, Kit is with us until dawn," Jade said.
Kit smiled, and even Kael's expression seemed to soften. He grumbled, "Go help your mother in the kitchen."
The itinerary that Kit had meticulously prepared for Emma was now spread out before them. Her fingers delicately traced the paths drawn on the map, highlighting each place carefully chosen by Emma, as if she could feel her presence through them.
Jade approached gently. Her proximity made Kit startle. Her heart began to beat faster, and her body trembled from within. She tried to hide this internal conflict, as her feelings for Emma were still very much alive within her.
"You know, there's so much more on this island than what can be seen on a map. Some of the most fascinating stories remain hidden. Each place holds a little secret, a story waiting to be discovered. Just like this place," Jade said.
The moment Jade placed her hand on the map, close to Kit's, the latter slowly withdrew hers, overwhelmed by a feeling of attraction and fear. She forbid herself from betraying her lost love.
Kael, who had been silently following the conversation, chimed in, "That's what makes this island so special. There's a magic in its lands that goes far beyond appearances."
Kit let her thoughts wander, "I understand Emma's passion for this island and her desire to come here better now."
Kael, surprised, was about to speak up when Jade stopped him with a nod.
As the conversation between Kit and Kael progressed, Kit was swept away by a wave of nostalgia. She thought of her father with the painful certainty that she would never share this kind of experience with him. She was both overwhelmed by the determination to honor Emma's memory and saddened by the void her father had left in her life. Kael brought her back to reality.
— Young lady, I hope all of this will help you during your stay with us.
— Yes, thank you for your help.
— Jade, why don't you take your friend to get her car?
— Let's go.
*******
When the two friends entered Boorman's warehouse, the air was immediately filled with the distinctive smell of metal and wood, a mixture of aromas that was both raw and rich. This place was a true maze of treasures. All sorts of strange and bizarre objects were stacked from floor to ceiling. Old, battered cars were next to ancient statues, age-old musical instruments, works of art, and heaps of other unusual curiosities, including some broken items. It was as if the two young women had just stepped into a museum of eccentric wonders.
What captivated Kit the most was the name of the warehouse written in handwritten capital letters above the entrance: "Boorman's Bazaar. Everything you seek, Boorman finds for you." She couldn't help but smile as she read those words.
— What is this place, Jade? It looks like a location that would hide all the lost treasures of the island.
— You haven't seen the end of your surprises. Wait until you meet the owner.
Kit couldn't resist the temptation to touch the strange objects piled up on the shelves. She reached her hand towards an old copper lantern, her fingers sliding over the worn surface, and then a pirate compass adorned with gold, admiring the smooth texture against her skin.
She was interrupted by a cheerful voice coming from the back of the warehouse. "Careful, young lady. We touch with our eyes, not with our hands, otherwise who knows what might happen! Each item here is magical."
Boorman, the man behind this artistic chaos, was just as eccentric as his hideout. He wore a top hat crowned with round glasses, dressed in a paint-splattered waistcoat, and his beard and long black hair gave him a mysterious and enigmatic air.
"Welcome, ladies, to the sanctuary of the unpredictable," he exclaimed in a voice that echoed throughout the warehouse.
Boorman zigzagged his way toward them through the mountains of objects.
He addressed Kit, "Are you looking for something specific, or would you prefer to let chance be your guide?"
Kit and Jade exchanged an amused glance. The place and the man were so eccentric that it was hard to tell if Boorman was serious or not.
But Jade put an end to his act, saying, "Stop it, Boorman. She's with me. We're here to pick up the car."
"Ah, okay. You must be Kit. Follow me."
He led them through the maze of odd objects to the back of the warehouse, where a collection of vintage cars was parked.
They stopped in front of a lime green Jeep Wrangler with an orange interior, which amused
Kit. "You certainly like colorful cars," she remarked.
Boorman grinned widely and theatrically tossed the car keys to Kit.
"May it bring you as many adventures as the island itself, young lady. And don't forget, if you need anything else, Boorman is here to serve you."
As she was about to get into the vehicle, something caught her attention. It was a small vintage motorcycle, a gray-purple Honda Super Club C50. She approached the motorcycle, admiring the design. She could feel the slight roughness of the chipped paint under her palms, the smoothness of the aged leather saddle, all the irregularities of wear that spoke of many past adventures. Her hands wrapped around the handlebars, and she felt the familiar sensation of rubber against her skin. Every contact with the motorcycle seemed to awaken a long-dormant passion within her. The scent of the bike, a mixture of old oils, gasoline, and metal, was the scent of adventure and freedom.
She looked up to meet Boorman's enthusiastic gaze. "It's amazing!" she exclaimed. "A Super Club C50, am I right?"
Boorman nodded, impressed by Kit's knowledge of motorcycles.
"Exactly. It hasn't been ridden in years," he said, pausing before continuing thoughtfully. "Here's an offer for you. If you can get it up and running again, it's yours."
"Really ?"
Kit was tempted by the offer, but she remembered that Emma had been against the idea of her riding a motorcycle, fearing she might lose her. Out of love, she had agreed not to pursue it, but life had ultimately taken Emma away from her.
"Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline," Kit said, choosing to respect her lost love’s wishes.
Before the girls left the warehouse, Boorman called out to Jade, "Don't forget about Wednesday night. We're expecting you and your sister."
Jade replied with a radiant smile lighting up her face, "I'll be there. Looking forward to seeing what you have in store for us."
Boorman turned his gaze to Kit and said, "Hey, young lady, you're welcome too."
Kit smiled but remained silent.
"Tchao, Boorman," Jade exclaimed before they left.
As they stood in front of Kit's apartment, the street was bathed in the gentle glow of the moon, casting mystical shadows on the sidewalk. The silence was broken only by the sounds of waves on the shore, accompanied by the nocturnal chorus of animals.
Jade turned to Kit with a friendly smile. "So, what do you think of the car?"
"It's an absolute joy to drive."
Before Jade left, Kit called out to her. "Thank you, Jade, for this day, for... your kindness and your family's hospitality towards me. Thank you for everything."
"Oh, it's nothing. It's just how we are. Come on, get some rest, tomorrow you start your first day at the restaurant. See you tomorrow. Have a good night."
"Good night. See you tomorrow."
Alone at home, Kit thought about the day, which had been both joyful and sad. She had spent wonderful moments with Jade, but she couldn't help thinking about Emma's absence, the void in her heart that seemed impossible to fill. Doubt crept in.
"Emma, my love, these beautiful moments, I imagined them with you by my side. You wanted us to come here to help me heal my wounds. This motorcycle could bring me a hint of freedom if I accepted Boorman's offer. But I made the right decision. If you had met this man, not only would you have thought he came straight out of a fantasy tale, but his demeanor would have also made you laugh a lot."
This day had introduced her to the warmth of Jade's friendship, the kindness of her parents, and even the endearing eccentricity of Boorman. She had felt the weight of her sadness slightly lift. She lay down, closed her eyes, and fell asleep, letting the memories of these moments blend with those of Emma in her dreams.
#willow#tv shows#movies#fantasy#fanfiction#savewillow#ruby cruz#erin kellyman#lgbt community#lgbtqia+#queer#willow 2022#willowmonth2023#wattpad#writterscommunity#ao3 fanfic#writer on wattpad#writers on tumblr#jadeclaymore#kittanthalos#lovenovels#queernovels#queerromance#romancenovels#sapphics#tanthamore#kit and jade#women writers#queer writers#queer artist
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Juulna’s 2021 Multi-Fandom Fanfiction Rec List - Part Two
(Yes, I realize this is a year late, but this year's been a bit nuts. I still hope you enjoy these fics anyway!)
Based only on what I’ve read with my own eyes this year!
Follow me on my journey into what, at times, was…
…actually rather calming! Perhaps you can find some comfort and entertainment, fluff and angst and romance and friendship, smut and a distinct lack of it, space adventures and fantasy and modern adventures, serial killers and good guys, redemption and reconciliation and learning to become someone completely different — there is so much here I read that stuck with me over the past year, and the 2021 Fanfic Reading Challenge ( @fanfic-reading-challenge ) allowed me a new way to keep track of all of my favourites. So props to that event! Definitely participating again (considering I run the event, yeah, that's probably a given lol, but full disclosure).
Without further ado, here were my 2021 fic favourites!
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six
Fandom: Marvel (Comics & MCU)
Stony, Polyvengers:
you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me) by @ketchupcrisp
The last thing Steve Rogers ever expected to see on a Wednesday afternoon was his (their) dead submissive tumbling out of a portal and practically into Phil’s lap, very much alive and frantic about Soul Stones and timelines and some other version of the team.
Avengers Family:
Of Spectrums and Spoons by @calloftherunningtide
Natasha had been taught to pretend – to act and respond just like she was supposed to act and respond - from an early age.
Things You Learn In the Kitchen at Night by @buzzcat
When Darcy went into the kitchen that night, she didn't expect to meet her platonic soul mate or Tony Stark, let alone have them be one and the same person.
Iron Family (typically very Civil War Team Iron Man):
Second Chances by @izazov
Tony Stark is in love with Steve Rogers. Also, he is dying. There is no direct correlation between those two facts. But there is also the matter of Steve Rogers having no idea about Tony’s feelings.
And all that's best of dark and bright by @kaaterinapetrova
When Steve Rogers leaves her to die in Siberia, Toni Stark hacks her soulmark apart, tears the flesh and veins until she is blinded with pain, and waits to die. Up above, somewhere in the universe, something fractures.
Trigger warning for cutting, suicidal thoughts, breakdown.
Siren by @tsuki-chibi
When the exvengers were granted pardons, they return to the Compound. Steve was prepared to fight an uphill battle, but not for the biggest change of all:a clone of Peggy Carter, who is already at the Compound and acting as the newest Avenger. Determined to see everything go back to the way it was, Steve, Wanda and Clint become obsessed with figuring out a way to upstage the New Avengers and prove that the Accords are unnecessary.
Spoiler: their plan doesn't work.
Basic Rules by @striving-artist
It said something about Toni’s life that she had an established system in case of kidnapping and torture, and while there had been tweaks, it was still basically the same as from when she was a kid.
1. Let them underestimate you.
2. Don’t fight back until you have an exit.
3. Lie from the start.
4. Protect what matters.
5. Assume no one is coming to help.
you want a war? (you don't know what you're asking for) by @dyke-yoonji
“And now? Now you’ve all betrayed,” Steve flinched at the choice of words, “Stark, and Potts and Rhodes are not going to sit and take it.”
Natasha frowned at the phone. “What does this mean for us?”
Fury laughed - an ugly laugh with no myrth in it. “It means that Potts or Rhodes are the ones who sent me this phone because they wanted me to contact you. They wanted me - and you - to know that they are with Stark, that they are the line of defence between him and us.”
“It means that they just declared war. God have mercy on your souls.”
Tony Stark is Not a Supervillain (But his Poker Group All Are) by DaughteroftheSilverMoon
A superhero walks into a room full of villains- and they play poker and give him a drink. After all, it's the polite thing to do. Only then they get to liking him, and all of a sudden they're slaying dragons for the good guys. It's very disconcerting, but kind of nice.
The Worst Job by @thealextheshipper
Jessica is assigned as the Rogue Avengers Accords delegate upon their return to the US, on the plus side she befriends Tony Stark, on the down side she has to deal with PR nightmare Steve Rogers, and his best friend PR nightmare Clint Barton.
DomesticIronHawk: (Laura/Clint/Tony)
Set On Fire by @allthemarvelousrage
She's not sure if she forgot to take her suppressants, or if something Wanda did screwed with her meds, but her world is on fire for the first time in years, and there's no one to help her through it... until there is.
IronMarvel:
Keep Me in Your Orbit by @moonlitmidnight-1
A post Civil War AU in which Toni knew Carol during the events of Captain Marvel, and was the person she gave the pager to.
IronStrange:
ARC I: An Infinity In The Wings by @bad-days-and-beautiful-nights
Stephen and Toni met just before she's kidnapped. They spent the night together and when she returns, they strike up an easy friendship. Soon enough, Stephen falls in love with her, but by the time he realizes, it's too late. Hoping she never finds out, he gracefully steps back, trusting Captain America to be the right man for his best friend. But when Steve surprises everyone and Toni ends up at death's door for the fourth time, Stephen has to re-evaluate his life's choices.
IronTaser:
Disinformed by Del_Rion
It’s time to come clean about Phil Coulson’s death. Out of all the Avengers, Tony’s reaction is the most surprising, and Phil must investigate it further.
Maria Hill/Sif:
Diplomatic Relations and Intelligence Failures by @scifigrl47
Maria Hill would like a night off, and maybe a date. She's not likely to get either one of them, so she's pretty resigned to long nights of protecting the world from behind the scenes. It's very satisfying, but not quite in the way she's hoping for.
Most people who know Maria are far too intimidated to make a pass. Luckily, the Lady Sif doesn't have that problem.
Phlint:
SHIELD Has Paperwork for Everything by @scifigrl47
Clint Barton knows where his loyalties lie, and they have more to do with his handler than his employer. Phil Coulson takes his responsibilities seriously, and a big part of his job is protecting the agent in his care from any threat to his well-being.
At this rate, neither of them is going to get a date. Natasha Romanov has other ideas, and the only side she's on is her own.
Stucky:
Reputation by @cpt-winniethepooh
Captain America is a hero to the nation, but an uncomfortable cage for Steve Rogers. He is confined by his reputation as the boring Avenger, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes, and has long given up on hope to change his public image.
Then he meets James Barnes, the infamous assassin also known as the Winter Soldier, who recently switched sides and is now working for the US instead of Russia. Barnes is tall, dark and handsome with his man-bun and eyeliner, and everything Steve shouldn’t want but does.
But just as there is more to Steve than Cap, there is more to Barnes than the Soldier - but will they be able to see that and find happiness?
An albumfic about finding love through the noise, set to the tune and narrative of Taylor Swift’s Reputation.
Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by @hellotailor, @alwaysalreadyangry, eleveninches, febricant, @morgan-leigh
“Heil Hydra,” the enemy agent shouts.
“Heil this, motherfucker,” says Captain America, shooting off a rocket.
Steve and Bucky find out Hollywood has been busy since they went away. A historical survey, including but not limited to: one set of exploded genitals, a brief interlude in France, Mel Gibson and other masterworks of casting, eight Academy awards, several dinosaurs, and something Tony Stark has ominously dubbed “the masterpiece.” Art included.
Steve Rogers and the minefields of social media by @cpt-winniethepooh
Steve gets a Twitter account, then an Instagram one, then he gets Bucky back, too.
ThunderIron:
King Of Hearts, Queen Of . . . Nothing by ThatDamnKennedyKid
He was sure that she didn't remember, not with the way she had cried herself into drunken slumber in his arms. That did not mean he forgot. Not anything - not the painful slurs from her father that lingered in her mind, the barely visible scars across her arms and thighs from jumping into adulthood alone before she was no longer a child, how she had blubbered the name Yinsen over and over again like a regret.
I don't Want the World to See Me by @outercorner
Tony has a secret, one that is harder and harder to keep from observant teammates.
WinterIron:
Lines by @treesramblings
“If you want—and feel free to say no, everyone and their mothers know that I’m the queen of offering too much where I’m not wanted—but, if you want…” Toni hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and then continues, “well, that’s the longest period of uninterrupted sleep I’ve had since last week, which was also with you, and—twice is a coincidence, but maybe we could test to see, uh, see if it’s a pattern? Only if you want; I’m not trying to guilt you into it. In fact, forget I said anything. This is a horrible idea. I’m just going to leave—”
She’s stopped by his fingers slipping into her palm as he's suddenly standing in front of her. “Okay,” he whispers.
The tension that had built up in her body releases all at once and she looks up into his eyes, the ever present churn of emotion swirling enchantingly, tenderly.
“Okay,” she responds, and his hand glides from hers as he turns away. She aches with the missing weight.
Watercolour Scars by ThatDamnKennedy
Despite fighting against Iron Man, Bucky didn't actually know Tony. Even then, he didn't know how he was the only one starstruck. He couldn't imagine the kind of miracles she must have pulled off before for the team to not even thank her.
Our Shattered Past by Elenduen
Bucky survives the snap, survives to see two-thirds of the universe die, half turning to ash, the others killed because those others turned to ash. He follows Steve back to America and the Avengers compound struggling to try and make sense of everything that has happened. Then Tony Stark returns to earth, broken, sick, desolate. Bucky feels he owes Tony for what he did to his parents, he wants to find a way to make amends and the only way he think to do that is to act as protection for Tony while he slowly recovers from his time in space.
Tony couldn't care less what happens to him now. He failed, Peter is gone, two-thirds of the Universe is gone, why should he care if he lives or dies now? he is determined to help others while he can though and if that means Barnes is following him around then he can help too.
What neither expect is a relationship to blossom between them or the family that blooms out of the ashes of their shattered pasts.
721 Fifth Avenue by Skarla
Tony Stark is a man of many faces; stressed, a little manic, overly fond of smoothies and kinder than anyone Bucky has ever met, although he hides it well. He's not quite sure why no one else is providing the support and companionship that the man is quietly desperate for, but it's no hardship to step up to the plate. He's always had a thing for scrappy underdogs after all.
The Evidence by @striving-artist
Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.
Fuck it.
He knew they noticed.
And he knew they liked him better this way.
ShieldShock:
MARRY, FUCK, KILL by @sevensneakyfoxes
"Actually, you know, I get it. Rogers would be an excellent MARRY choice. You know that he'd never leave the toilet seat up, would never drink the last of the milk, and would clean the rain gutters without prompting," Darcy says. She's never really considered Steve as anything other than Captain America who is impossibly unapproachable; weirdly enough, the things she finds intimidating about him as a person oddly work for her in a domestic setting. "Ugh, plus you just KNOW Barton would be the type of fucker that would eat the last oreo and then shove the empty box back into the cupboard."
"So what's your list then, Darcy?" Jane asks, turning back to look at the mold, which has done exactly fuck all in the last half-hour.
"Don't rush me! I need to make an informed, calculated choice."
Darcy looks down at her pad, then back up at Natasha. She purses her lips in thought. "You've fucked Barnes, right? How dexterous is that metal hand?"
--
The ladies of SHIELD play a mass game of MARRY FUCK KILL, Avengers edition.
Wherein everyone marries Steve, kills Tony, Jane betrays science and Darcy hypothetically turns Thor into a llama.
WinterShock:
Black Holes and Revelations by @amidtheflowers
The Winter Soldier doesn’t like her much. It doesn’t help when they get thrown in a black hole together.
WinterShieldShock:
Upon A Hill, Across a Blue Lake by @i-mushi
Fluffy ABO - Darcy has a few run-ins with the police and a couple Alpha Avengers show up to help. She /really/ should have specified to Jane not to send her crushes when she called for help. Steve/Darcy/Bucky Alpha!Steve, Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Darcy
WinterWidowIronShield:
my body is not their bed by @deathsweetqueen
In 1995, the Engineer and the Winter Soldier escape HYDRA and end up, bleeding, on Peggy Carter's doorstep.
This is their journey after. This is the story of their victory march.
#fic recs#juulna recs#fanfiction#marvel#mcu#marvel 616#marvel 3492#female tony stark#polyvengers#winterwidowironshield#wintershieldshock#wintershock#shieldshock#winteriron#domesticironhawk#ironhawk#thunderiron#stucky#phlint#irontaser#maria hill x lady sif#maria hill#lady sif#ironstrange#ironmarvel#2021#2021frc#2021 fanfic reading challenge
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holy shit your new story has me in an utter chokehold because i just cried my eyes out like three times reading it I LOVE IT SO MUCH STAR I DONT KNOW HOW TO PUT IT INTO WORDS it's definitely one of my ABSOLUTE favorite pieces of your works now and as someone who loves classical music and occasionally studies music theory and such on my own free time, this piece definitely rooted in my heart.
i ended up reading it halfway through then stopping for a break so i could text my friends that im sobbing my eyes out to mozart and then went right back to reading it, and i got texts afterwards ranging from "what the hell are you up to now" to "average day with you"
i listened to mozart's piano concerto no.12 while finishing the rest of the story, and i think the music just engulfed me a lot more into the piece itself and i really fell in love with it.
star, your writing really is a symphony in itself that resonates within my heart because every time i read your newly published work, it feels like im falling in love and meeting your blog for the first time all over again, and it continues to remind me of how grateful i am to have met and stumbled across someone like you.
thank you so much for continuing to write and inspiring me in ways i never thought i could be, and for always providing a safe space and a comforting new world within all your stories. i remember i wrote a pretty long feedback for begged and borrowed, but i just really can't put into words how much im in love with your writing. i said before, but ill continue to tell you about how your sense of words engulf me into a different reflection of myself in another universe and how many times i find myself going through a flurry of emotions from it.
pleaseplease dont stop writing because your talent for it is absolutely incredible, and if i could, i would read your works from the end of this world to the next one because i really truly do love them.
p.s. !! here's some random thing i cooked up while thinking of the whole brahms and clara thing (i wanted to imagine that if mozart and constanze had a letter, brahms would also have one dedicated to clara)
"My dear love, my symphony in which resonates deep within my heart. A glass ornament in which I gaze upon that shines down upon the world- so imperfect yet the shards place and root themselves so deeply within my heart I will never be able to part my gaze from your beauty.
A passion burns within me whenever I am graced with your presence. My music and notes will never be able to hold my profound love for you, your everlasting beauty which goes to the moon and back, collecting and scattering stardust over my eyes, enchanting me into your witch's spell that I will never be able to break myself free from.
Oh my love, I hope that death not do us part, and though no soul will ever be able to remember the love I shared for you, you will be able to hold it in your heart as a precious memory from your youthful days. My lady, I would die for you, writing sheets upon sheets and scattered notes which will never truly be able to come close to describing your flawless glamour. You have my heart and soul, and the key to my career, and I hope you will not break it, wishing upon me lament and mournful sorrows, weeping over my very own grave. "
~luv, 《☘️》
I just read this feedback all the way through and then read it like seven more times because I’m so in love with it 😭 where do I even BEGIN…
First of all I laughed so hard at you texting your friends about it LMAOOOO that is tooooo relatable 🤸♀️ I revealed to my sister not long ago that I wrote skz fanfic and I’ll text her sometimes to be like wow this is intense I need a break. And I get the same versions of “average day with you” or “what the hell are you writing now” and I don’t even tell her what any of my fics are about so she’s just perpetually guessing 😭
I am so so so beyond elated to hear that you enjoyed reading 🩷🫶 also you’re not the first to say they consumed Mozart’s Sonata no. 12 while reading (highly recommend !!) and it just WARMS my heart to see that you guys pick apart the little details to enhance your reading experience! I try my best to incorporate little bits of media I grew up consuming or that highly resonate with me and it’s so refreshing to see you guys enjoy tiny bits of my life sprinkled into an alternate world I’ve created for you guys. What else can I say except for expressing how grateful I am for every single one of you 🥹 I don’t intend to stop writing any time soon and I’m so inspired to see what little world we can all travel to next in my upcoming work. I hope you enjoy it just as much 🩷
And lastly…. Your poem at the end!!! The inspiration from Mozart’s letters to conjure up your own??? I am in awe with your guys’ ability to move me with your feedback every single time 🥹 my favorite line: your everlasting beauty which goes to the moon and back, collecting and scattering stardust over my eyes” WOW. Are you sure you’re not just Mozart reincarnated and visiting this blog 👀
I LOVE YOU pookie, thank you a million times always and I’m so honored to be able to produce work for you. All my love, always ❤️🫶💕
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Double edge
Link X reader
Category; fanfic/creative
AN- Okay, not sure, but this is gonna be a series. I'm not usually on Tumbler, but I've gotta put my writing someplace other than Wattpad. Although, I've it all there, too. Enjoy, and it doesn't say the Oc's name for a reason. And, no, no smutt, but i do want to rip your heart out emotionally. Have fun fuffowls.
Words; 1.7K
Summery: Sen wakes up in a dark and unfamiliar place, disoriented and unsure of their surroundings. They are helped by a stranger named Link, who communicates with them through touch because the main character cannot remember their name. As they explore their surroundings, they discover a pulsating beam of light that seems to be calling to them. The story ends with the main character falling towards the light, leaving the reader unsure of what will happen next.
_______________
I never knew my name... Do you know yours?
The stillness was palpable, hanging onto the walls with a delicate touch. The only audible melody was the gentle lull of water softly caressing the surrounding water laps symphony of tranquility. It clung to the walls; soft water laps against her ears were only noises.
She stood in awe as the chilly breeze swept through her hair, and the crisp air filled every crevice of her lungs. The icy blue water splashed playfully against her skin, leaving behind a tingling sensation that spread throughout her body, relaxing every muscle. The peaceful water lapping against her ears provided a soothing melody that calmed her mind and soul. A warm, soothing darkness, as it's the only one She's ever known.
The blue hue of the light caused her eyebrows to furrow together in deep concentration; she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. A cold sweat began to form on her forehead as she struggled to make sense of the situation before them. Despite her efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
Link...
Something within them stirred, and her limbs began to move, twitch. Come back alive from her darkened, unconscious state.
Link... Link, wake up.
She regained consciousness; she started to feel her arms and legs again. Her body twitched as the sensation slowly returned. She was soaking wet from head to toe, and her ears had water, causing some disorientation. As the water drained away, the person became more aware of her surroundings.
Open your eyes...
As her mind snapped back to consciousness, her fingers twitched in response. With effort, she pried open her heavy eyelids, only to be greeted by a dense layer of darkness. But then, she felt something warm radiating from above, enveloping her shivering body in a comforting embrace. Her hands subconsciously reached into the light, wanting to grasp it with her fingers. All her efforts fell flat. So, she resigned herself to slowly propping up on her elbows. Long, wet hair clung to her face and back, and a cold chill shot through her body.
That is a Shieka Slate. It will help you on your journey. Place it against the wall to release the guardian from her tomb.
Who is that...? Who is she speaking to?
The ground trembled unfathomably, causing them to stumble and fall on her back. The sound of rocks colliding against each other echoed through the air, creating a haunting symphony of noise. As the chaos subsided, a silence engulfed the surroundings. Suddenly, the eerie calm was broken by the faint sound of footsteps. The footsteps were slow, measured, and filled with caution, as if the very ground beneath her feet was a potential threat.
She sat up, forcing her hands to function against the wet, cold stone. Then the footsteps stopped just as she got to her knees, staring blankly at where the footsteps had been coming from. Soft air wafts waved across her face, like a cold breeze blowing across her nose and cheeks. A soft scent of earth and dirt filled her nose. Someone was standing in front of them.
A hand landed on her shoulder, light enough to tell it was there. Her cold fingers traced over her bare shoulder. By the rough and worn texture, it was a seasoned warrior. Yet the gentleness of it, she was shy and cautious.
The stranger's hand took theirs, helping to pull them onto dry ground. In the palm of her hand, a finger traced something. From how it felt, letters. L.I.N.K. So, this was the man the voice mentioned? She responded with a small smile. Link pulled her hand along, writing another word in her palm. N.A.M.E.
The confusion at his question was palpable, but she couldn't access her name. This lack of information is causing them a great deal of distress, to the point where she is experiencing physical discomfort in her abdomen.
Despite her best efforts, she seems unable to come up with a solution to this problem. The only information available to them is the present moment and the sound of a woman's voice that has just woken them up.
She's struggling to make sense of her surroundings and what is happening.
Link sounded closer to her face like a quiet but curious sigh. It was followed by a few fingers curling around her wrist, leading her a few feet forward. Her feet shuffled, unsure how to use them after so long.
A few feet away from the water, the rocks began to move again. The Link again led them through but stopped, letting them bump into him. The rough skin across his back touched her chest, and she stepped back. She was feeling her face grow hot for some reason.
Amidst the silence, her blind gaze swept across the room. She was expecting to find nothing in her blind state. Yet, she did—a soft pulsating beam of light just off to the left. A ringing in her ears drowned out Link's movements around the room. She couldn't tear her gaze off it. Whatever this light was. A faint whispering echo pulled her bare feet from the ground, pulling her closer like a thread pulled from her chest.
Her bare feet shuffled across the ground for a mere foot and a half before nothing was left to step on. Her body fell forward, and the connection to whatever this light was still had her brain in a vice grip. A grunt sounded from behind her, and two stronger hands gripped the sensitive flesh of her waist to pull her back onto solid ground.
A noise of dissatisfaction rumbled from her throat. "Let... Let go... I've got to reach it." Her worn fingers outstretched for the light. She wanted to grasp it between her calloused fingers. It's the only thing she sees, the only thing she wants.
Link's firm hands remain steady on her waist, and by the quiet grunts, he's having a bit of trouble holding the female back from stepping over the edge. His hand moved to her shoulder, and the other curled around her waist tightly. She was lifting her feet from the ground. "No. Stop. I've-"
She was carried a few feet forward; she suddenly found herself face-to-face with a cold stone wall. The wall was so close that she could touch it with her nose. Her fingertips grazed over an intricately detailed image of a pair of weapons. The image was so vivid that the weapons felt tangible, like before her. However, as she touched the blood-soaked tips of the weapons, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen.
The weapons were a set of twin daggers with golden trims adorned with blue and white flowers. Their curved edges gave them a delicate appearance, as if they were light as a feather. Despite their beauty, the weapons were dangerous, as evidenced by the blood that covered them. The weapons were a set of twin daggers with golden trims adorned with blue and white flowers and curved edges that made them feel as light as a feather. Every detail of the daggers had been crafted with extraordinary precision, making them beautiful and deadly.
The air trickled from her lungs as she stared. She did not even notice that Link's hands had lingered around her waist, subtly touching the rough skin on her waist. They turned her away from the image imprinted on her darkness. Wooden objects touched her bare legs as his hands gently pushed her to sit down.
Those hands retracted as he walked off, and she lingered on the image to the left. It wouldn't leave her mind, and it got her heart racing. Lost in a daze, she didn't notice the gentle hands touching her ankles, sliding on shoes.
Then, a voice jolted her out of the daze. It was quiet, thoughtful, and rather grave. However, it took much more effort not to jump than she was willing to admit. "Is... There something about that wall that's calling to you?"
Her gaze lingered back to the rock while having trouble forming the right words. "Something... like that. I hear... whispers."
Link didn't answer and slid a shirt over her head. A quiet meep left her lips as the fabric slid over her wet hair and soaked the shirt. One arm, then the other, until the shirt settled on her body. Link's hands gathered the long, wet hair, pulling it from her back and resting it over her shoulder.
Link's worn fingers rubbed the strands between his fingers. "It's beautiful hair."
She hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through the soaked hair tips. But her gaze always lingered on the images carved into the rock. A quiet thank you left her lips in service of his compliment. His fingers left her hair, and his footsteps faded into the direction of the image.
After a few moments of silence, the echoes of rocks grinding against one another. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Those are the Astral Daggers. She protects you, Link, and hands them to the guardian.
Link's footsteps stopped right in front of her. The handles slid into well-worn grooves along the handles as if her hands had held these blades a hundred times over. The blades were sharp enough to cut through steel.
Then, her eyes began to ache. She was blinking rapidly to get rid of the sensations. Link's concerned voice couldn't reach the deepest recesses of her mind. His rough hands grasped hers. Second by second, the darkness began to fade away. Light and colors began taking shape, blurred but becoming sharper. Clearer.
"Hey, why are you crying?" Link asked, and she looked up. "His figure gradually materialized into view as if emerging from a mist. His striking face was framed by wavy blonde locks that added a touch of softness to his robust features. A single earring on his left ear sparkled with a blue hue, catching the light. Those piercing blue eyes, surrounded by furrowed blonde eyebrows, seemed to express a deep concern. As he reached out to her, his rough and weathered hands gently cupped her cheeks, wiping away the warm, salty tears streaming down her face. She blinked several times, still trying to comprehend who stood before her. His jaw was tightly set, revealing the depth of his worry and concern.
"I... Nothing. I'm fine." She recoiled from his touch, wiping off the tears with her hands. Why could she see all of a sudden? The new sensations had her mind in a world of questions as she gazed down at the sparkling daggers planted firmly in her palms. "I'm fine."
My name? Well, I don't know my name.
#botw#botw link#fanfic#writers on tumblr#writing#x reader#f reader#legend of zelda#link#trigun stampede x reader#the legend of zelda#tears of the kingdom#zelda
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