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#and woke up with all this written

queenofbaws · 1 year

Note

thinkin about the au where the ud kids are also councillors at hacketts quarry..... wouldnt it be just Such bad luck if one of Them got werewolfified?? dealers choice who, i just thought it would be fun :]

((uh oh, this was just supposed to be six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!))

“So…anyone else getting mad déjà vu right now, or is that just me?” Save a few furious glares shot over shoulders, no one seemed especially interested in dealing with Mike at just that moment. He shrugged the worst of it off, then went back to circling the lodge, rattling doorknobs and window frames to make sure everything was locked up tight. “Just me then. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Good talk, team.”

One might’ve expected that the lodge would feel empty with all the campers gone for the season, that the railings and dark eaves above them might’ve given the place a hollow, echoey feeling…but empty tables and vacant coat hooks be damned, the lodge had never felt smaller. Panic and confusion had narrowed the space until the woodgrain became smothering, choking, a prison smelling of pinesap and industrial grade disinfectant and, now that they’d gotten Nick laid out, blood. It was a madhouse. A charnel house.

Or it would’ve been, had the older counselors not been so nonchalant.

Sam was the first to step forward (surprising no one), tying her hair back out of her face with a few snappy twists of her wrist. The Hacketteers had seen it happen a few times during the summer, the imaginary switch that occasionally got flipped inside of her, transforming her five-foot-nothing frame into the towering presence of a military official; she knelt down beside Nick alongside Abi and Kaitlyn, and as she got a better look at his leg, her cheeks hollowed in thought. When she spoke, it wasn’t with the calm, sunshiney voice they’d all grown accustomed to, but an authoritative snap that left little room for argument. “Nurse Kelly’s office,” she said to Kaitlyn, making sure to hold her gaze as she gave the assignment. “Hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet, gauze from the bottom left drawer, and then bandages. If you can’t find bandages, get tape. Go.”

After one last sympathetic look towards Abi, Kaitlyn was off, bounding towards the nurse’s office with force enough to make her sneakers squeak on the hardwood. Sam wasted no time; she turned first over her right shoulder then the left, her lips tracing the silent headcount she was running. “Eleven,” she muttered, tapping her own chest before running the count again and coming up with the same thing. “Eleven? I—okay, wait, who’re we missing?”

“Um, um Emma,” stammered Abi, her voice shaking like a leaf in a windstorm and her body not much better off. Her bare knees poked through the tears in her tights where she knelt on the floor, the skin red and raw from where she’d fallen, though that seemed to be the worst of her injuries. “E-Emma’s down at the…at the lake, and Jacob went to get her. I…right?” Her stare had been so far-off when she’d come tumbling out of the woods and into the circle of the firepit, and only now did it seem to focus, or sharpen at the very least, as though having four walls and a ceiling surrounding her was what it had taken to wake her up. Even though she kept both of her hands tightly wrapped around one of Nick’s, she wrenched her eyes away from him to look at Ashley instead. “Right?”

At first, all she could do was nod, her lower lip was so deep in her mouth. When she let it go (with an almost audible pop! at that) it was red and inflamed from her biting it. “Right,” she picked up, nodding with a tense sort of precision. “Jacob went to get Emma at the lake, and Matt and Jess went with him just in case he ran into that…um, guy he was talking about. The hunter, or whatever.”

His circuit complete, Mike gave the front door one last heave-ho before joining the rest of them. “So I’ll say it again: Déjà vu, table for however-the-fuck-many?”

From one of the tables, Chris lifted his head out of his hands. “Dude. Let it rest, okay? A-a-and that’s coming from me, all right? Just…drop it. Seriously.”

“This is bad.” There was the sound of footfalls as Kaitlyn came running back into the main room with her arms full of supplies, and even still it was Dylan most of them turned towards, Dylan who had been hanging back near the fireplace since they’d gotten in. “This is bad, bad, bad…look, I’m telling you guys, okay? You can call me crazy, whatever, I don’t care, this?!” He stopped his anxious pacing long enough to slice a hand through the air in Nick’s direction. “This isn’t normal. Guy gets attacked in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere by some…thing Abi draws to look like my sleep paralysis demon on steroids, it’s oozing black shit, and we’re just…what? We’re just not gonna say it?”

“Dylan,” Sam and Kaitlyn warned, sounding less a Greek chorus and more a couple of exasperated mothers.

He held both his hands up as if to acknowledge their scorn…and continued anyway. “This is horror movie shit. Legit fucking horror movie shit, and I don’t care if you guys think I’m a maniac or whatever, but I am telling you, we shouldn’t be bandaging that, we should just be cutting it o—”

“Dylan!” Kaitlyn snapped a second time, throwing him a frantic glare from where she bent over Nick’s leg. “You’re not helping!”

“No one is cutting anyone’s anything off,” Sam piped in. “Completely glossing over the fact Nurse Kelly never stopped to give any of us pointers on impromptu amputation, I’d just like to go on the record as saying immediately chopping body parts off when freaked out is a bad idea in general.”

She wasn’t looking anywhere near him, but Mike was more than happy to take the opportunity to flip two of the fingers he did still have Sam’s way.

“Fuck,” Nick breathed, his spine arcing impossibly when Sam splashed the hole in his leg with peroxide. He grit his teeth, squeezed Abi’s hands until she squealed – though from shock alone or pain, none of them could immediately tell – and screwed his eyes shut tight as the blood and tissue exposed to the open air sizzled and bubbled and foamed. “Fuckin’…I’m right here! Don’t talk about this shit like I’m not here!”

The pain in his voice should’ve been enough to end the conversation full-stop. It would’ve been enough, had it only been the younger counselors in the lodge.

He hadn’t said much since the firepit, and for that most of their number were grateful. When Josh did deign to throw his two cents into the mix, though…gratitude was the farthest thing from anyone’s mind. “Ives is right.”

“Shocker,” Mike muttered under his breath, joining Emily over near the windows.

“Josh. Don’t—”

“No, shut up. The facts of the matter are these: One.” And because he was who he was, he took two steps up onto one of the open tables, somehow managing to bring the audience’s attention to himself despite Nick bleeding out on the floor. “There’s something attacking people out in the woods. A bad start, I think we can all agree. Two. Whatever it is, it’s hungry, or at the very least, it’s teething. Now I don’t know about any of you guys, but I’ve seen my fair share of hickies and love bites in my time, and whatever the fuck did that…” As Dylan had before him, Josh pointed towards the wound Kaitlyn and Sam were trying (and failing) to dress. “…its mouth was a little bigger than we would like. Fair to say? Three. I’m sorry Nicky-baby, but you’re not looking so good right now.”

“Josh!” That time Sam got up, pushing herself from the floor to stomp over towards him. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged, throwing off his balance and causing him to stumble to catch himself before he fell off the table entirely. “This is so not the time for – ”

“So you’ve got an explanation for all the black gunk, then? That what I’m hearing, Sammy?” He lifted his arms in a theatrical shrug, then let them drop to his sides. “Look at him. Look at him. We can see every vein in his goddamn body because of that crap. He looks like an anatomical model of a zombie plague victim. What’s the point in pretending – ”

“The point is,” she interrupted, each syllable clipped and final, “until we know what’s going on, we shouldn’t be scaring people.”

For a moment, brief and shining, it seemed maybe Josh was going to back down. Then he held up another finger. “Four,” he continued, looking away from Sam to search out all the others’ eyes instead. “Any of you aspiring astronomers take a gander up at the sky tonight, perchance? Notice anything…interesting, maybe?”

On the floor, Nick thrashed, succeeding in shoving Abi away from him, but not quite managing to throw Kaitlyn from his leg. Other than that, there was silence as the counselors fought to make sense of what Josh was saying.

“I mean…it’s a full moon,” Ryan offered. “But I don’t – ”

“Oh my God, it’s a full moon!” Like someone had stuck her with a pin, Ashley’s whole body shot back, back, back and away from Nick. She moved with the lightning speed of the truly panicked, nearly jumping the full length of the lodge to join Chris, Josh, and Dylan over by the fireplace. “It’s werewolves. Oh my God, it’s werewolves. It’s…oh jeez Louise, this is…” Only once she’d been enveloped by the guys did she stop raking her fingers down her face. When finally she spoke again, her voice had taken on a terrifying calmness. “We’ve got to cut his leg off.”

“Thank you! This is what I’m saying!”

“I—will you guys shut up?” Pushing himself away from the far wall, Ryan threw his arms out wide. “Do you hear yourselves? Werewolves?”

There was nothing especially friendly in the look Josh leveled at him as he asked, “What? Not, uh…bizarre or bona fide enough for you? Is that it?”

Nick’s injured leg spasmed as if it were a dying animal struggling to fight off a hunter, and the impact knocked Kaitlyn’s breath from her lungs. She went sprawling, moving her hands towards her ribs as if to grab at them, but hesitating to actually touch them once they began to throb. “Jesus Christ, Nick!” she gasped, using the rubber soles of her shoes to push herself along the floor, putting more distance between them. “I’m trying to help! I know it hurts – you gotta…”

He didn’t have much to say to that, it seemed, except a succinct, “Fuck off, Kaitlyn!”

As Sam and Abi both rushed to help her up, the others continued their grim debate; unfortunately for Ryan (and, in all honesty, Nick), one side was clearly louder than the other.

“In what world do you think werewolves – actual freaking werewolves – are real?”

“Uh, point of order,” Chris interjected, “you seem to be forgetting who you’re talking to, so hey, just real quick, ahem…hi, I’m Chris, this is Josh, this is Ashley, and we survived a cannibalistic monster attack back in 2015! Jesus Christ, did any of you guys listen to a word we said during ice breakers? Holy shit.”

“Not to take away from the argument or anything, buuut just FYI, we were all very much in agreement you guys were making that shit up completely.”

“…you what?”

“Yeah,” Dylan nodded. “We laughed about it after lights-out and everything. I mean…whoops. Obviously, whoops. I’d like to go on the record as saying I owe you guys a big old ‘my bad’ once we’re out of this shitshow, but…yeah. Definitely…definitely thought you were making that stuff up.”

There were a million things they could’ve said to that revelation. A million things between them. And still what ended up actually coming out was: “Mike cut two of his fingers off!”

“It’s true. I did. And look where it got me.”

“Really moving up in the world, aren’t you Michael?” She hadn’t had the slightest desire to join in the reindeer games, but there was only so much theatricality and tension Emily could resist. She turned away from the window and took the scene in with her arms folded tightly across her chest, one of her hands tucked neatly away beneath the crook of her elbow. There, near the fireplace, was the witch hunting committee; there, in the middle of the blood-streaked floor, were Nick and his three would-be nurses; and smack between the two factions was Ryan, dour and exasperated as always. “Mike’s right,” she said, and was then forced to deal with the indignity of him grinning and pumping his fist beside her. “This shitty one-act is familiar. And I for one am not dealing with it a second time.”

“Emily,” and man oh man, Sam was wondering if she was going to get to say anything tonight that wasn’t just her sounding out her friends’ names in increasingly frustrated tones, “look, I know things are weird right now, but – ”

“It’s not werewolves.”

Josh’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Oh! Well, by all means, your majesty, please! Inform us lowly peons of the esoteric knowledge you’ve been withholding from us. I mean, after all, it’s not like any of us are experts on the subject or anything. Not like anyone in this room was literally raised on horror lore.”

They were too far away from one another to do anything about it, but when Sam and Mike locked eyes, it was immediately clear they both knew what was about to happen. There was no reason for that, nothing that could explain the bolt of understanding that ran through them, and yet there it was, plain as day – déjà vu, serendipity, kismet, fate, bad luck, whatever you wanted to call it, they both saw it rear its ugly head at precisely the same moment.

The moment, as it turned out, where Emily pulled her hand free from under her arm. “Whatever that ugly motherfucker was, it got me too.” The lights were off, there was hardly any illumination to speak of, and even so, there was no missing the jagged, shallow teeth marks jagging across her hand. There wasn’t as much blood as there had been on Nick’s leg, though there was a fair amount, and whatever that black stuff was, her wrist seemed to be shot through with it too.

“Guys.” It was only the stunned silence that had come over them at Emily’s admission that allowed Nick to be heard; his voice was a wet, phlegmy gasp caught deep in his chest. “Guys? I don’t…”

“It got me too,” Emily continued, “and look at me! I’m fine! I don’t feel sick, or infected with anything, or – ”

“Oooh no. Oh no no no no no! You are so…no!” As quick as she’d been to hide herself behind them, Ashley burst out from behind the guys to round on them instead, pointing frantically towards Emily as her words spilled out of her. “This is what I was trying to keep from happening last time!”

“…last time?” Ryan asked, only to be spoken over.

“They’re both bitten! They’re both infected! They’re going to change, or turn, or…or whatever, and when they do, you know what’s going to happen? They’re going to kill us! They’re going to kill all of us, and I didn’t make it off that stupid freaking mountain just to die here in the middle of some awful, sweaty, mosquito-filled woods!”

“Ashley…”

“You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.” Mike made a swipe for Emily, meaning to hold her back. Whether it had been a real effort, though, or one just meant for show…that was anyone’s guess, because she easily evaded him and marched her way over to the others, countering each of Ashley’s moves as though trying to bully her in a narrow school hallway. “How many times do you think you get to spearhead the ‘Let’s kill Emily’ committee before I haul off and wipe the ground with your sorry ass?”

“I really, uh…” Nick’s gasps had turned to panting, each breath uncomfortably wet on the inhale. “I really don’t…feel good…”

Ashley took a step back towards the guys and Emily took two forward; she sidestepped and Emily turned with her. “I-I was wrong last time,” she admitted, and while her eyes were huge and glassy with fear, her chin was high and her voice was resolute.

“You don’t fucking say.”

“But this is what I was afraid of! You become a werewolf when you’re bitten by one! That’s how it works! Everyone knows that’s how it works!”

“Oh yeah?” And before anyone could react, even to breathe, Emily lashed out with her uninjured hand, grabbed Ashley by the wrist, and brought her hand to her mouth. She bit down once, hard, letting go before she could taste blood but well after she felt the meaty crunch of tissue damage. “Then welcome to the party, bitch.”

“Déjà vu check?” Mike asked the room, and that time, Chris raised his hand. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay, look, shit’s…shit’s pretty fucked right now, I’m not even gonna lie, but Sam has a point, all right, you guys? Until we have some kind of proof that something spooky’s really afoot, then I don’t think we should – ”

It was Abi who screamed first, bringing their attention back to Nick. By then, it was too late. They turned just in time to see a tear, then two, then three, open in his skin, stretching wide to show the wet, raw muscle beneath as though he were simply wearing a human-suit several sizes too small for him. With one final heave of his body (and the horrendous sound of gore hitting the floor and walls and, God help them all, ceiling), something hulking and monstrous and sharp burst out of him like a moth from a cocoon, spreading not wings but limbs so long and so large as to defy all logic. It stared at them with eyes that winked gold and red in the darkness, then threw back its head and let out a sound like none of them had ever heard before.

Only then did Sam raise her hand, already starting to walk backwards. “This is starting to get familiar,” she admitted, grabbing Abi by the back of her shirt and hauling her to her feet, “this is starting to get really, really, really familiar, now that you mention it.”

Shock alone rooted the younger counselors to the spot, the older ones held still more by muscle memory and the hope what had kept them alive before would keep them alive now…but then Emily snatched Ashley up by both of her wrists and yanked her close enough to act as a human shield, breaking their stunned silence with a shrill, “Someone shoot her before she turns into one of those things!”

“You bit me!” she shrieked in response, struggling to reach behind herself and get a handful of Emily’s hair. When she couldn’t wriggle out of her grasp, she settled for stomping down on her instep as hard as she could, and if it hadn’t been for Mike and Chris both grabbing them and physically dragging them away, the thing that had very recently been Nick would’ve likely sliced through them both with a furious swipe of its claws.

“Holy shit, holy shit!”

“Yeah, welcome to our world,” someone said glumly, either Chris or Josh, it was honestly hard to tell.

“There’s a…there’s a fucking monster…right there!”

“Wow, gee, thanks!”

“And they’re just…going to fight each other?! Even though it’s…it’s right…”

“Like we said,” and that time it was Chris, his voice strained as he tried to physically slide himself between Ashley and Emily to keep them apart, “welcome to our fucking world!”

“Fuck me, I sure hope Mr. H has this place insured,” Mike said, and though he knew it did more harm that good, he let go of Emily to let Chris deal with her, choosing instead to pat himself down until he found the lighter stashed in his pocket. “Because I don’t know about you assholes, but I sure remember how this part goes.”

#fudgeroach #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #the quarry #until dawn #hi there ash #congratulations! you said the magic word and as if i were some sort of sleeper agent i blacked out for a minute there #and woke up with all this written #so. SO.#..............oh no i like this idea way too much sdfjaklsdfjlksdjFKLJSLKFJLKSDJFKLDJSF ANYWAY HERE"S WAY MORE THAN 6 SENTENCES TY #sldkfjksldjf i really might. have to revisit this during the week and edit/refine to put on ao3 because.............#god help me. i love this idea tho asdklfjksljdf (and i still need to put lisas fuck no: the movie prompt up there askdljfkjd)

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weareallgonnaliveforawhile · 28 days

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Y'all know those fanfics where Saiki is an asshole to Teruhashi or really rude to her until they start dating? Yeah, this is what I imagine what that Saiki meeting Canon Saiki would be like.

Canon Saiki: So do you still deal with Teruhashi?

Fanfic Saiki: I can not avoid that woman. The other day she was bothering me when a mob of her fans showed up so I teleported away and-

Canon Saiki, surprised: You revealed your powers to her?! I mean, her fans do suck, so I can understand panicking and teleporting the both of you away-

Fanfic Saiki: What? No, I teleported myself away and left her there.

Canon Saiki: You what.

Fanfic Saiki: I teleported myself away. Well actually, I was the one who kinda summoned that crowd so that she'd be too overwhelmed with them to go find me-

Canon Saiki, shaking with murderous rage: You what.

#kokomi teruhashi #fanon saiki #terusai #saiteru #saiki kusuo #saiki no psi nan #kusuo saiki #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k #tdlosk #saiki kusou no psi nan #Not hate to any fic creators #It's just that I've read several where Saiki is like this #Including one where he fucked with her tarot fortune (which he knew she cared a lot about) to fuck with her head #And while that's a great fic concept and the fic itself was very well written #The concept sent me into a blind rage where I woke up ten hours later in Utah at an Amish farm.#I want to make it clear #This isn't explictly romantic #This can be platonic Terusai #Romantic Terusai #Whatever #But he does love her #And she loves him #It doesn't matter what way #It doesn't matter if they love each other in the same way they love their other friends #Or if it's in a different way #The love is there #And that's all that matters

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911bts · 1 year

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If you hate the show so much, stop watching and get the fuck out my inbox.

I'm just the messager, and I'm really sick of being shot every time people wanna throw fits over not liking information when we have no idea how things will actually turn out.

I work hard to find information and provide it for the fandom and I'm SICK of being told I "ruin" things for people because they're upset by information. You follow the blog. You seek it out.

#i get it- half the people around here hate women so much that my inbox turns into a tornado #every time i announce that a woman is writing #and i understand if people dont like someones writing but the way someone literally listed half of the female writers who all have written #arguably strong episodes #and i literally go through this like clockwork every time a female writer whos not lyndsey is writing #i woke up to two back to back asks bitching about nadia writing and im just really sick of this shit #fandom discourse

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lethalhoopla · 2 years

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I am once again losing my mind.

This time: I went to look up references of Varric, and just typed "Varric Tethras" into the search bar. I was going to just tab over immediately to the images section, eyes barely glancing over the obvious top-result fandom wiki, then (more entertainingly, but still expected) Wikipedia link-

but. but the next one.

GOODREADS??

.... There's absolutely no tongue-in-cheek in the entry either.

(of course I immediately clicked on it who do you think I am)

There are 3 quotes from him relating to storytelling, both from 2 and Inquisition, as well as a book attribution:

The Dragon Age Novel Edition of Hard in Hightown.

ATTRIBUTED TO VARRIC TETHRAS.

with Mary Kirby*~

Absolutely unblinkingly written summary/bio.

I love this with my whole heart. Varric you beautiful bastard -- and DA writers/editors (Mary Kirby very much most importantly included) you even more beautiful, dorky, wonderful bastards.

---

*if you're not in the know, Mary Kirby is a cornerstone of the DA writing team, including being the one who was in charge of Varric (and Merrill!). To say she's his "trusted human confidante" is certainly putting it one (delightful) way.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #varric tethras #i love things like this idk its just so delightful to see the love for a character so clearly echoed from the writers to fans and back agai #like it makes sense HiH is on goodreads - its literally a published book! (you can read most of it in dai codex in fact)#very fun and cheeky novella - not originally planned to be written #but mary kirby did it during DAI's development during times the team would work on 'related projects' that #would flesh out/expand on the world but probably/likely wouldn't see the light of day (which is really cool and immersive)#she apparently banged out most of HiH in a WEEK as codex entries (which are only 500 words long MAX so she had a hard cap!)#woke up in a fugue state with it finished kinda vibes apparently XD #anyways a couple years after DAI she was contacted and asked if she wanted to make it into a publishable novella that'd be illustrated #she agreed and here we are lmao #but! it's By Varric *with Mary Kirby*#and idk #my lil storytelling loving heart just is so delighted about all aspects #and its lead to Varric having a true-blue goodreads profile #so much good shit in the world man #including weird lil website entries on behalf of fictional authors that have 'real' published novels thanks to Dedicated Writers #fucking impeccable shit man

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bug-decal-kissing · 7 months

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Hey friends!

All the works I've found for today are NSFW; they will all be below the cut :].

A new work, A Nightmare Is A Wish Left Unsaid by Rachar was published today, with 1/2 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and Rape/Non-Con, with additional tags "Rape/Non-con Elements, Extremely Dubious Consent, Breeding, Cunnilingus, Cum Inflation, self destructive behavior, Mindbreak, Vaginal Gaping, Double Penetration, Vaginal Sex. Size Difference, Bottom Scarab, Biting, Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat"

You can read it here:

Prohibited Wish Oneshots (Pt-Br), by Blue_Fujoshi, was updated today, with 2/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "ProhibitedWish, Priscrab, Scrabby, I love this nickname, Fanfic, Fanfiction"

You can read it here:

A new work, Wasting Company Time by sparklinggrapesoda, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Office, Office Sex, power bottom scarab, Light Dom/sub, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Consensual Sex, Trans Scarab, mild spit play, Orgasm Control, not much aftercare, just because i dont usually feel like writing it haha, Semi-Public Sex, Begging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, light degredation, cock stepping"

You can read it here:

#i woke up today #i went 'time to start on my fic scrounging :]'#and THEY'RE ALL SMUT/nm #my poor little apothiaroace heart is quivering/j #but they're all so wonderfully written that I enjoy reading them :]/lh #prohibitedwish #prohibitedwish fics #a nightmare is a wish left unsaid #prohibited wish oneshots (pt-br)#wasting company time

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sukifoof · 1 year

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Can you elaborate on the idea that Flowey treats himself as a totally separate person from Asriel - who he used to be - because he's been traumatized and in denial? This reminds me of how Scar from Fullmetal Alchemist insisted on abandoning his real name as an Ishvalan after the war of extermination.

yes yes yes i think about this a lot actually... it's really interesting to think about how flowey wants to separate himself from asriel because he believes he can't go back, that he'll never be "him" again. and maybe he's right in a way-- trauma can completely change a person's worldview and sense of self.... speaking as someone who also deals with the kind of ptsd that changes everything, it really can be hard to view who i was before everything happened as still me. i think for flowey it's probably the same way, he definitely isn't the same person he was before chara's death, but like... not in the sense that he thinks, i guess?? he thinks he can't go back to being this Kind Sweet Perfect Prince Boy Everyone Loves, but it's more like he's grown into this new person with his new experiences. that's just how people are; they change and grow and their experiences reshape everything. no one still feels like how they did when they were 10, but for him there's such a drastic difference that is so clearly born from "because i didn't do the right thing everything's changed for the worse and it's my fault. i wish i could just go back" and it's fascinating to see this go so far that as "asriel" he tells even frisk to separate asriel and flowey, even though they're the same person. the way his trauma has changed him has made him believe he can't be himself if he's not feeling awful and alone all the time and it's like. Flowey Please. which i guess makes sense cuz several people start to recover from trauma and go "oh god whats going on why do i actually feel okay for once this is weird".... but i really like that the alarm clock dialogue also touches on toriel calling him asriel... and he goes "you can't even take care of yourself" as if. caring for him would be too big a job for her. but he does allow papyrus to still be friends with him and it seems he might actually feel he has a future now.... it's also really interesting that he just wants us to remember "asriel" as someone who was our friend for a little while. i think the way he speaks about himself and his past decisions shows a looot of self loathing but he still feels like... that's the person he Should be. that to be worthy of frisk's friendship he Should be asriel, the kid who didn't kill his sibling yet. he blames himself so much for chara's death and he still wants to go back, but knows that he needs to let go... despite everything, he's still himself, even if he doesn't want to accept that.... i really really love the way toby handles trauma and guilt and that weird separation of self that comes with those things i love flowey sm

#hi forgive how long this is i just woke up and realized i wrote Quite A Bit #i really love how his everything is handled its all written so well #undertale #asriel #asriel dreemurr #flowey #utdr analysis

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scionshtola · 7 months

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with certainty

summary: Corisande was forced to heal her own injuries following their battle in Cape Westwind. Y'shtola is none too impressed with the job they did. pairing: Corisande Ymir/Y'shtola Rhul (pre-relationship) word count: 1666 | read on ao3 notes: everything about healing in here i made up. and supplemented with things i saw on grey's anatomy. sorry in advance. and spoilers for the end of ARR. [divider credit]

Behind Corisande, Castrum Meridianum loomed in the distance, the glow of its shields bright against the night sky. Before them, the Alliance troops prepared for the next phase of Operation Archon, spurred on by their successes at the other Garlean outposts thus far. Corisande watched them work, running here and there, voices blending with the sounds of weapons being tended.

If all went well, the troops in front of her would engage the Garlean forces outside while Corisande snuck into the stronghold and disabled its magitek shield generator. If it did not go well, if Corisande let down all of the brave people before her, those willing to risk their lives on the misplaced hope that she succeeded—

They shut their eyes, pushing the thought away. There was always a way for things to go wrong. Now was not the time to dwell on the possibilities.

“Ah, there is our Warrior of Light.”

Searing hot metal closed over Corisande’s wrist. Rhitahtyn sas Arvina stood over them, yanked the chain that linked them and sent them stumbling toward him. She dug her heels into the ground, struggling for purchase in the mud and the grass, churned together by his relentless attacks. It was no use. He was far bigger than them, far more prepared for battle in close quarters, and the manacle on their wrist was blisteringly hot. Pain greater than any they had ever felt before radiated through their arm. She needed distance, needed time to cast, needed her hands free—

“Corisande,” he sneered down at her. Around them, the battlefield was ablaze, flames licking their body as they continued to struggle. She aimed her grimoire at his head, tried to shove him away, anything to create the time and space to cast a spell. If I can just summon Titan… “Are you well?”

They blinked, and the flames receded. The manacle fell from their wrist, leaving behind a phantom pain, as if their skin had been scalded all over again—but it did not truly hurt, not anymore. They had made sure of it.

“Corisande?” Y’shtola’s voice broke through the haze of imagined pain. Where Rhitahtyn towered over her a moment ago, Y’shtola stood peering up at her, her fingers wrapped loosely around their wrist.

“I’m fine,” they answered, and tried to cover the suspiciously quick response with a smile. She tugged her arm free, the tips of Y’shtola’s fingers trailing along the back of her hand, and let it fall to her side, fighting against the urge to cradle it protectively against her chest.

Unsurprisingly, Y’shtola did not seem convinced. She trained her gaze on them, unwavering, concern evident in her bright teal eyes, and reached for their arm again. She took it with a practiced hand, pushing their sleeve back to reveal the web of mottled scars encircling their wrist, a wide, morbid bracelet, the tendrils of which stretched across the back of their hand.

“When did this happen?” Her touch was firm but gentle as she turned their arm over, examining the scarring from all sides.

Corisande hesitated, reluctant to do or say anything that might distract from the next phase of the mission. Reluctant to relive the pain in the retelling of it. But she has kept little from Y’shtola in the course of their friendship and as much as she wished not to speak of it, she did not wish to hide it from her either.

“A few bells ago,” they finally admitted. “At Cape Westwind. I am afraid I got a little too close to my adversary.”

“A few bells...” Y’shtola prodded at the scars, her eyes narrowing when Corisande did not react. She turned their hand over and skimmed her fingers along the inside of their wrist, brushing the singed edges of what was left of their wrist wrappings. They had not found a moment to replace them since the battle, swept from one task to the next as they were.

“Pray, which healer is responsible for this remarkably poor work?” The sharpness of her words contrasted the gentle hold she kept on their arm. “I should like to have a word with them. A burn so deep as this one appears to have been would take hours to heal properly.”

Corisande would laugh, if it did not feel like so much work. If her skin did not itch, did not feel stretched taut over her bones, fragile and paper thin, at war with the ironic spark of warmth blooming in her chest. Still, that Y’shtola should take such immediate offense to the shoddy quality of care they received was enough to bring a small, fond smile to their face. If only they had someone else to blame. “I will keep that in mind for next time.”

Y’shtola’s eyes widened, gaze flicking between their face and their scar. “You healed yourself?” she asked, at once both incredulous and irritated. “Reforming the layers of skin, repairing the nerves, not to mention the debridement—the pain would have been excruciating. Even more so if not given time to rest between stages. Why did you not come to me?”

Corisande had hardly been able to take two steps after defeating Rhitahtyn, the pain had been so overwhelming. They had tried—one foot in front of the other, just until they reached the others, but they hardly knew where they were going, the pain blinding them to everything around them. Every step had jostled their arm, lightning bolts of pain emanating from their wrist. She’d held her arm to her chest, but every brush of her open wound against her clothes had set her wrist aflame all over again. It had been impossible to think straight.

They had only meant to heal it enough that they could think about something else. Anything else. But Y’shtola was right—the pain of healing had been excruciating, so much so she could hardly keep her eyes open to watch. But she had. She’d watched as the seared bits of her gloves fell from the wound, grit her teeth as the skin began to reform. They had meant to stop, meant to leave the rest until they could find a real healer—until they could find Y’shtola.

But they had never had much control over their healing, had always neglected the study of it for the more interesting act of summoning. She could hardly tell what she was doing, her own cries ringing in her ears, unwilling tears blurring her vision. It had been hard to see, so hard to think about anything but the pain—until there was no pain at all.

“I only meant to make it bearable,” Corisande answered, meeting Y’shtola’s gaze. Her expression flickered, melting from a borderline scowl into softer concern as she looked into their eyes. It lasted only a moment, and then she dropped her gaze to their wrist once more. She prodded at it with cool fingers, then pressed hard against their skin, almost a pinch, pursing her lips when Corisande gasped.

“‘Tis not the prettiest work, but your nerves are intact,” she said neutrally, and let their arm drop to their side.

“You could have just asked.” Corisande rubbed her wrist, though she could not quite hide her amusement at Y’shtola’s straightforward approach. In fact, she found something rather comforting in her lack of gentle bedside manner.

“Had you proper knowledge of healing magicks, there would be far less scarring,” Y’shtola continued, as if Corisande had not spoken. “But we must make do with what talents we have on the battlefield. That you have healed is of greater import than the manner in which it was done.”

“Come to me should you need any further healing,” she added, in a tone that brooked no argument from Corisande, then narrowed her eyes at them. “But do not expect that I will let you get away with subpar healing forever. A mage of your skill should know how to properly heal themself.”

The laugh that Corisande had struggled to produce moments ago burst easily from her lips now. “I look forward to your lessons, Master Y’shtola.”

Y’shtola smiled, pleased, a touch of mischief in her eyes, and Corisande’s heart swelled with affection, an answering grin forming on their lips. Until Y’shtola’s eyes darted over their shoulder, at the fortress still looming over them, returning to the forefront of their mind all the worries that had fallen to the side when she had first touched them.

“I would prefer that you rest, but there is still work to be done,” Y’shtola said, staring up at Castrum Meridianum with steel in her eyes. Corisande turned to face the fortress, and for a moment they stood side by side in silence, contemplating the task before them. One more step on the path to Eorzean liberation.

Y’shtola grasped Corisande’s hand. This time she did not look away when their eyes met, and instead returned their gaze with an assurance in her eye that calmed them. “I will see you when you return, Corisande,” she said, giving their hand a comforting squeeze before slipping away to resume her duties amongst the troops.

Corisande took one last look at the looming castrum and let the sound of the battle preparations taking place behind her wash over her. The fate of Eorzea, of everyone behind them, very likely rested on their shoulders. The thought was nearly enough to send them running for the forest they had come from.

Instead, she turned toward the crowd of people working behind her. Cid was somewhere amongst them, beginning the preparations for the infiltration, and it was past time she sought him out to assist.

They worked their way through the encampment, a certainty rising within them as they walked. Y’shtola was right—they would see each other again. They were as sure of it as Y’shtola seemed to be herself.

And they found, suddenly, that they could bear anything, so long as they had that to hold on to.

#kels writes #oc: corisande ymir #xiv fic #last night i got my laptop out to write something completely different. immediately fell asleep with it in my lap.#and woke up with the frantic need to finish this fic that i started in july that carried me til 1:30 am jdkfgj #anyway...i love them...love that shtola is like 'your healing skills are a joke wtf'#and cori is internally like 'wow...i love you sm for telling me that thank you'#also when i was editing i realized i had written in present tense. except for all my favorite parts i wrote in past tense.#and i changed them to be present tense bc it was easier but when i got home from work i went through and changed it all to past #and im happier with that djksfg #anyway. nice to have this done. and maybe now i can get other ones done.

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