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numerousbees1106 · 19 days

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Crown of Lazarus Teaser #2 - Tumblr exclusive!

No-One Knows Just Who To Believe

(This is the follow-up teaser to the one posted yesterday, which can be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55069789#main). Edited on 4/12/24 to fix some formatting issues.

It began slowly, as it always did. His mind, wrapped in infinite nothingness, thought only in the subconscious, all greater thought replaced with the gentle soundless static of the hindbrain. His body existed somewhere far away, his worries and fears farther yet still. For an endless moment, he simply existed within the threads of reality, interwoven with its fabrics, cradled and protected like a dragon in its egg.

But slowly, the harsher edges of existence began to creep in as they always did, like a camera slowly zooming in, and he became aware of his own wakefulness bit-by-aching-bit.

In his mind’s eye, he saw himself, but the proportions were all wrong, with some parts far too large and exaggerated, and other parts far too small, shrunk down like some sort of twisted caricature. He was rotating in an endless void, but simultaneously he was far too still, like an image pasted hastily into a video.

He became aware of his heart thumping, a sensation painful in its sudden stimulation. His breathing echoed loudly in his ears, his blood crawling through his veins like tunneling insects, bringing with them the numbing agony of his nerves regaining sensation.

Anakin slowly peeled open his eyes, eyelids sticky with disuse, nausea boiling in his gut. He felt too hot and too cold, sweaty and shaking, as his organs and various internal systems began to reboot and reawaken.

Even as his sluggish mind slipped in and out of what Anakin called his Reawakening daze, he clung desperately to lucid thought, knowing that he had to think up a damn good excuse for why he was mysteriously back from the dead.

The morgue, he figured. I’m probably in a body locker in the morgue.

Briefly, he wondered why he wasn’t freezing, but as he clumsily felt along his body, he recognized the scratchy textures of the blankets considered damn-near sacred by the clones. The blankets - thick and one of the more expensive pieces of gear - were limited to one per bunk, and it was a pain in the ass to get a replacement. As such, they were considered special by the clones - the blankets were always neatly folded, even in the messiest of chambers, even if the various other sheets were strewn all over the place. The blankets were always kept clean, and to steal a brother’s blanket was considered to be a serious crime. A handful of the 501st had even customized their blankets with dyes or sewn-on patches, despite it technically not being allowed.

And Anakin could feel some familiar patches on some of the blankets he was wrapped in.

Tears began to sting his eyes as he gingerly ran his fingers over one of the patches, shaping it out in his mind until he was certain - this was Rex’s blanket, that was laid out underneath him, cushioning what to them was Anakin’s eternal slumber. And the blanket draped over his torso, that bound his right arm to his side but left his left arm loose, Anakin recognized as Kix’s. And the one that gently wrapped around his legs and feet, Anakin could feel Jesse’s name embroidered on. A few other blankets embraced him, and more still cushioned the body locker around him, and Anakin’s heart clenched painfully with both immense love and grief. Damn his trust issues - he should have told them long ago.

With a shuddering breath, Anakin carefully unlocked the locker with the Force, gingerly sliding it out until a dim and flickering light greeted him.

Oh-so-gently, he moved the blankets out of the way so that he could sit up - they had really tucked him in tight, and it took all of Anakin’s willpower to not break into ugly sobs right then and there. He needed to find them, now. Just the mere thought of his beloved troops mourning for him another needless minute longer… it coiled something in his chest, curdled his heart like spoiled milk, radiating bitter guilt from his soul. He needed to go to them, to explain, to apologize to them, to beg for their forgiveness. He needed to reassure them that it was alright, that everything would be okay, that he was fine, that they would be fine. But, as he clambered out of his not-so-final resting place, he encountered a bit of an unexpected issue.

His wings were back. And they were a lot bigger than he remembered.

Shavit. Kriff. E chu ta. Karabast. Damn.

How in the Sith Hells was he supposed to hide this?

A thousand horrid scenarios raced through his mind. The Jedi, furious at him for lying to them for years. The Republic, desperate for a victory, throwing him into suicide missions again and again until there was nothing human left of him. Obi-Wan’s crestfallen face as he realized the betrayal.

Experiments. Slavery. Torture. His death.

Scenarios, infinitely numerous and infinitely grotesque, raced through his mind.

Except, as he panicked, he saw as the golden feathers became awash with a sickly pale green color, the same color he had come to associate with fear and panic and terror. And, as he noticed this, the pale green was replaced with the blue-violet of confusion.

Okay, he thought. Okay, maybe there is a way to hide this.

As he thought this, a light pink-yellow shade crept into his wings - hope.

He breathed deeply, tenderly stepping around the candles that had been left in front of his body locker, drawing his wings in tight to prevent them from knocking over the lit flames - or worse, catching fire.

All around the room, tiny trinkets and objects his men had held dear were carefully laid or propped up, tiny offerings to help him in his final march towards a battle far away. That was the idea, anyway.

Anakin only realized he had paused when his drooping wingtips knocked over a small wooden carving of a bantha, the grief-gray and guilt-gray-green feathers flinching in surprise and knocking over a few other nearby trinkets. The subsequent racket, though not terribly loud, was enough to make him freeze, that pale green color returning.

“What was that?” A voice sounded from right outside the door.

The Final Guard, Anakin realized. It was a tradition the clones had inherited from the Mandalorians, wherein the Final Guard - a select group of the deceased’s closest friends and allies - would stand watch over the body until it arrived at its final resting grounds.

“What was what?” A louder voice, one Anakin recognized as Hardcase’s voice, responded.

“Didn’t you hear that? That racket?” The first voice - Appo’s voice - hissed.

“I haven’t been able to hear much of anything since… well.”

A solemn pause, a heavy sigh.

“Get that checked out, vod,” Appo muttered.

“Once the Final Guard is done,” Hardcase agreed. “Oh, and the noise was probably just some of the offerings falling over.”

“Probably,” Appo concurred, voice thick with grief.

Breathing out a soft sigh of relief, Anakin tucked his wings tight against his sides as he eyed the vents. Those would be his best best out of the morgue, unless he wanted to knock out Hardcase and Appo with the Force, which he very much did not want to do.

It would be a tight squeeze, but maybe…

Unscrewing the vent and removing the cover was the easy part. Much harder to do was actually maneuvering his body into the small space that was a few feet above his head, all without making too much of a racket. He, however, had a secret weapon on his side: sheer Skywalker stubbornness.

Alas, he mused forlornly as he kicked uselessly at the air, finding himself stuck within the vent, I am also cursed with Skywalker stupidity.

His wings prevented him from moving forwards, the feathered limbs simply being too wide to fit, but also prevented him from reversing out of the vent, as any backwards motion bent the feathers the wrong way, sending sharp pin-pricks of pain through his newfound appendages.

“Stupid… kriff… damn these wings!” Anakin hissed under his breath, wiggling and wriggling each way in a fruitless attempt to free himself. With a sigh, he went limp, resigning himself to his fate. Still, as he reminisced on the events that had led him to this point - sulking, really, though he’d never admit it - he imagined his wings simply… disappearing.

And they did.

Painfully.

Very painfully.

Feathers fused back into flesh, hollow bones breaking up into thousands of fragments before merging into his muscles, tendons dissolving into goo and sticking to his sides until the wings were gone completely, with only his bleeding gums from where he had cracked a tooth on his metal hand, biting down on it to muffle his agony, to show for it.

Gasping and panting, tears streaming down his face, Anakin forced himself to move forwards with shaking hands. He had to keep moving. He had to keep going. Somehow he knew that his wings would come back, but he didn’t quite know what would bring them back. It could happen at any moment, for all he knew, trapping him in the vents until he reabsorbed them - something he very much was not keen on.

Well. At least he didn’t have to worry about having to hide them, though it wasn’t quite what he was hoping for.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the vent collapsing beneath him, sending him plummeting very ungracefully to the floor below…

Right in front of Rex.

The aura around the petrified clone Captain was a horrid shade of pale green and shock-silver, the man’s face draining of color as he stared down at Anakin’s frozen form, their eyes meeting.

Captain Rex collapsed in front of him, unconscious.

Well, shit.

#angstpril2024 #star wars #fanfiction #day9 #trust issues #ao3 #ao3 author #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #teaser #Crown of Lazarus

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artistoftales · 7 months

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Day 9: Wadjet and Nekhbet

#akhtober #egyptian #deities #drawing #mythology #art #wadjet #nekhbet #day9 #digitaldrawing #magic #pagan #witchcraft #illustration #simple #kemetic #firealpaca #artist #artistoninstagram #myart #dahkyarts #artistoftales #artistonig

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thechaoticfanartist · 20 days

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She can't help it. When she looks at Anakin she sees Vader. She always sees Vader. She knows what he will do. She knows who he'll become.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed) : @padme--amygdala @soclonely @mrfandomwars @jgvfhl @starlonkedd @shinhatigf @togrutanduin @jedi-valjean @one-real-imonkey @traygaming @aiylasdrawings @keoxus @veiled-in-stars @sentineljedi @spicysucculentz @amelia-song-pond @it-was-rose @saturnsokas @thejediprincessqueenofnaboo @veradragonjedi @arrthurpendragon @shrinkthisviolet @doodlebugs-and-doodleart @thebrainofoctavian

#angstpril2024 #star wars #art #day9 #trust issues #grim kennet #my oc #star wars oc #jedi oc #my art #fanart #star wars art #sw art #star wars the clone wars #anakin skywalker #grim and anakin

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black-opal-001 · 20 days

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@trigun98watchparty OH HELL YEAH! WOOWOO IS HERE!!!!

In day 9 we have: "Nicholas D. Wolfwood makes an entrace!!", "Trombadinha" and "Silly Milly and Dummy Vash.":

As 80% of the fandom Nicholas is one of my favorite characters, not only his desing is cool but his backstory! My favorite version of his backstory, and character in genaral, is the stampede one, but the 98 always will have a place in my heart with the trimax one (also because trigun 98 is my favorite trigun so yup!)

References:

I love this excuse of a priest, i hope nothing bad ever happens to him!

#tri98watchparty #Day9 #trigun 98 #Nicholas my beloved

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nemaliwrites · 20 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Arumajiki Yumi | Thalassa Gramarye & Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Arumajiki Yumi | Thalassa Gramarye & Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright Characters: Arumajiki Yumi | Thalassa Gramarye, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright, Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice Additional Tags: Blind Character, Hospitals, Memory Loss, Psychological Horror, Identity Issues, Gaslighting, Repetition, Trust Issues, Angst, Experimental Style, Motherhood Series: Part 9 of Angstpril 2024 Summary:

Two children visit Lamiroir in the hospital, and they say they are hers. She does not believe them.

Written for Day 9 of @chaos-company‘s Angstpril - prompt: trust issues

#angstpril2024 #ace attorney #fanfiction #day9 #trust issues #lamiroir #thalassa gramarye #apollo justice #trucy wright #trucy gramarye #angstpril #my fics

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kadiwright · 3 months

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Day 9: Tsundere

Prompt belongs to KatiAmel

PPG Z (C) Iku Ishiguro

PPG (C) Craig McCracken

Art (C) @kadiwright

#romanticuary2024 #katisromanticuaryprompt #day9 #tsundere #ppgz #ppgzbuttercup #digitalart #traditional art #myart #artist on tumblr #powerpuff girls z

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astaldis · 12 days

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@whumpril

Chapters: 2/3 Words: 3,256 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Geralt of Rivia, Angoulême Additional Tags: whumpster-dumpster's Whumpril 2024, chaos-company's Angstpril 2024, Head Injury, Blood and Injury, Spoilers for The Tower of the Swallow, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, swaying, Cry for help, Geralt's knee injury, Limping, Dizziness, Trust Issues, drained, panicked, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump

Summary: The fighting in Belhaven does not go well for Geralt and his companions. Cahir is injured and they have to flee. (The scene from The Tower of the Swallows chapter 6 told mostly from Cahir's POV, but also some Geralt POV.)

Inspired by Angstpril and Whumpril prompts.

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theroguequeenaniki · 5 months

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December Day 9: Card 💌

KimickaPhotoADay

card #cards #christmascard #christmascards #countdowntochristmas #day9 #december #december2023 #photo #photoaday #photoadaychallenge

#December Day 9: Card 💌#KimickaPhotoADay #card #cards #christmascard #christmascards #countdowntochristmas #day9 #december #december2023 #photo #photoaday #photoadaychallenge

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nyamadermont · 16 days

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Trust Issues

Angstpril 2024: Day 9

Apprentice of the Piercing Gaze:

You have done well to insinuate yourself. Cultivating trust yet leavening it with unpredictability enhance the tension of the bond.

Continue to placate so that observation may continue.

Continue collecting responses to stimuli.

Patience is required.

Open your eyes that I may see.

Instructions end.

Lin was startled to hear the knock on her door. She knew her bath had run a bit longer than she had planned, but she didn’t realize just how relaxed she had gotten.

She shouted something she hoped the delivery kid would hear while she scrambled into her bathrobe. Her armor tunic floated up from her bed and draped over her head as she scooted to the door.

The knock came again, not especially insistent.

Lin regretted the wooden structure that kept her from sensing across the threshold. With a grimace, she pulled at the door.

Eboshi stood there, waiting outside Lin’s door, holding a package wrapped in green fabric. It matched the package that had originally contained the very bathrobe she currently wore.

Neither spoke.

Lin scuffed her feet against the floor, opening the door to make room for Eboshi, if she decided to enter.

Her visitor straightened her back but not her neck. Looking down at the package, Eboshi stepped soundlessly through the open door.

She turned to face Lin again, but said nothing. She extended the package slightly, lifting it with open palms toward Lin.

“Please forgive my outburst last night. It was uncouth of me.”

Lin grimaced, but smoothed out her expression before Eboshi could see. She reached forward and covered the backs of Eboshi’s hands with her own.

“I should not have touched that dress. If it was ruined, I’ll pay you for it.”

How many emotions played on Eboshi’s face, Lin would never be able to tell.

But piqued professional pride was the one that remained.

“If you thought that was enough to ruin that dress, your opinion of my skill is truly poor.”

Lin caught her breath.

“Eboshi…”

Eboshi gave a haughty shake of her head and pulled the package closer to herself. She folded back the green cloth to reveal a second shade of green.

“Perhaps I should return this to Lady Wu’s boutique, then.”

Lin couldn’t follow Eboshi’s motions as she unfolded the package, folded the wrapping fabric, and held up an elegantly simple cheongsam the color of new leaves. With elbow-length sleeves and a long slit up both sides of the skirt, the high collar mimicked her uniform. The black edging almost shimmered.

Lin gasped.

“It’s lovely,” she choked out in a whisper.

“Then take that abhorrent uniform off and try this on.”

Lin opened her mouth to respond, but used her bending to lift the armor over her head and drape across an armchair. She decided not to dwell on the look of distaste on Eboshi’s face.

Unthinking, Lin shrugged off the bathrobe.

At the catch in Eboshi’s breath, Lin looked up. She decided to commit this look on Eboshi’s face to memory.

She stepped closer, noticing that Eboshi seemed to be breathing a little unsteadily. She carefully examined each seam on the dress from the collar to the hem.

Eboshi frowned, and asked in a tight voice, “What are you doing?”

Lin huffed. “Between Kya and Su, I have trust issues with someone handing me new clothes. That hanfu in your workshop isn’t the first dress I’ve bled on.”

Once satisfied, she caressed Eboshi’s cheek, then submitted to her guidance to slip the dress over her shoulders.

The dress wrapped around her as if Eboshi had woven it around her frame. Even her upper arms were only comfortably snug, neither uncomfortably tight nor annoyingly loose.

Eboshi slid around Lin to inspect the dress from the back.

Lin shivered at the feel of Eboshi’s hands on her hips. When Eboshi slid Lin’s wet hair to one side and kissed the back of her neck, Lin drew in a sharp breath.

“I’ve seen something I need to look at more closely. You need to take this off.”

Eboshi kissed her neck again.

“Trust me.”

#angstpril2024 #angstpril 2024 #avatar the legend of korra #legend of korra #fanfiction #day9 #trust issues #nyama's shorter stories #Red Jade

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chel-stil · 2 years

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