#he is too too fun to write angst for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bri-cheeses · 27 days

Text

“Have you ever been in love?”

The question seems to take Evan by surprise. “What?”

Barty repeats the question, shifting up into a sitting position. His hands dig into the ground, still damp from last night’s rain. “Have you ever been in love?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, looking down at his feet, Evan quietly answers, “Yes.”

Suddenly, Barty is mad at himself for asking. He can’t even say why he asked in the first place; he simply had the thought, and being the impulsive person he is, he asked without thinking. Now he wishes he hadn’t, if only to have avoided this odd burning in his chest caused by Evan’s answer. And really, he should drop the topic, based on downcast tint to Evan’s response, but he can’t seem to let it go. So instead, he presses the issue.

“When?” he asks, looking intently at Evan.

At that, Evan looks to his left, purposely avoiding eye contact with Barty. He stubs out his cigarette on the grass next to him, a thin curl of smoke rising up from it as he does so. “A long, long time ago.” His voice is dark with something Barty can’t name.

“Did it end well?”

Evan cuts him a look. “Who said it ended?”

At his words, something twists inside Barty. Suddenly there’s a lump in his throat as he works to get out his next sentence. “Well, you said a long time ago. So I thought that it was a, uh, past thing.”

“Yeah. It was a long time ago. When I… fell in love.”

Barty knows he’s the one who started this conversation, but he really hates the way Evan says love in reference to some mystery person. At least he used past tense, though, meaning it’s a thing of the past.

“So what happened?” Barty questions.

“They didn’t want me in the way I wanted them. Still don’t want me that way.” There’s something bitter in Evan’s tone, and he’s gone back to refusing to look at Barty. In contrast, Barty stares at him intently. He feels as though he’ll be able to see through Evan’s exterior and into his insides, where all his secrets are hidden, if he only looks hard enough.

“Who was it?”

“Does it matter?” Evan’s voice is biting as he sharply turns his head back towards Barty.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Barty leans back onto his elbows, tearing his gaze from Evan. It’s almost comical how their positions have changed; now, Evan stares at Barty, and Barty looks out over the lake in an effort to avoid his gaze.

“It was no one important, okay?”

“Oh.” Something settles in Barty when he hears that, even if Evan’s tone contrasts with his dismissive words. “They were—still are—an idiot, though. Just for the record.”

Evan laughs in that disbelieving way of his, as if he’s sharing an inside joke with himself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Barty says definitively. “I mean, you’re perfect. And whoever can’t see that is an idiot.”

“Perfect?”

“Yup.” Barty means it, too.

“Yeah, well,” Evan scoffs, “it isn’t good enough for them. So it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, you’re good enough for me,” Barty says hotly. “So don’t worry about that asshole. Because and me? We’re best friends, and you’ll always be good enough for me. You know that, right?”

Evan is avoiding Barty’s gaze again. He picks at the grass next to him, focusing on that instead. “Right,” he says somewhat bitterly.

“I mean it,” Barty insists. “You are.”

Evan looks at him, smiling sadly. “Thanks, Bee. But it’s getting cold. I think I’ll head back inside if that’s all right with you.”

“I—okay. Yeah, uh, sure.”

With that, Evan gets up and begins the walk back to the castle. Barty watches him go, thinking their entire exchange over.

He’s not entirely sure where the conversation went sour enough to get Evan to leave, but clearly something must’ve caused his abrupt departure. Even if Barty had thought he had said the right things to get Evan to cheer up again. He had meant what he said, too; Evan always would be good enough for him. Barty honestly couldn’t imagine a better best friend.

So Evan shouldn’t, Barty thinks heatedly, have ever been hung up on some asshole who couldn’t even see how amazing he is.

Barty continues to sit there, close to the shore of the lake, and watches Evan’s retreating form. And as he watches Evan reach up to wipe at his eyes, trying and failing to act like it was nonchalant gesture, he resolves to find out who Evan was talking about. And he’s going to make them, whoever it may be, pay for how they hurt Barty’s best friend.

#Barty you IDIOT #ugh #also Evan never said that it ended buddy #just that he fell in love a while ago (translation: Evan knows how to dodge questions)#also did u not notice that he kept switching between past and present tense #also Barty’s repeated insistence that Evan is perfect AS HIS BEST FRIEND #ah my heart #i want to grab Barty by the shoulders and shake some sense into him #i say that as if i’m not the one writing this #btw someone needs to take the angst away from me because i’m having wayy too much fun with it #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #marauders era

164 notes · View notes

merakiui · 2 months

Note

Okay speaking of magical girls.... Evil villain tako that has a crush on the cute magical girl at NRC but he doesnt know shes the magical girl that's trying to thwart his evil plan of taking over sage's island mwhaha

YES YES YES. And every week he gets his ass handed to him. You're determined to keep Sage's Island safe!!!! He's trying to get to know you through the fights. The (one-sided) sexual/romantic tension is too much. Tako who flirts at every chance during your fights... you genuinely want to take him out (defeat him), but he wants to take you out (on a date). And it's so obvious he's down bad for you, but you have no idea he's Azul Ashengrotto (your fellow classmate) and he has no idea of your identity either. Azul's trying to balance his love for the magical girl he fights on weekends and his darling classmate who he sees during the week hehe. How fortuitous that they are the same person.

Please imagine that trope where the villain ensnares the hero in tentacles, but it ends up looking more erotic than threatening....... orz evil villain tako whose tentacle is holding you upside down by the ankle and he's monologuing about how he'll take over the island and you'll get to watch, powerless against him. But then he looks at you and your skirt has flipped up and he's granted a gratuitous panty shot!!!!!!! Tako who gets a nosebleed on the spot. He's such a loser pervert. <3

Omg omg or you're squirming in the tentacles and ranting about how you'll get him for this, but Azul's trying so hard not to give into the horny thoughts because the way the tentacles are looped around you and squeezing is so attractive to him.

Like that one scene where Stocking's fighting the octopus ghost LOL.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #no one can shake azul from his pompous villain monologues quite like his darling can #on second thought maybe he won't get another angst fic #maybe i'll write this sort of concept with him #magical girl aus are so fun orz #OMG HIS VILLAIN OUTFIT IS THE GLOMAS OUTFIT..................#villain jade or villain floyd is also a yummy thought #twin villains who drive you insane because they're so annoying #omg maybe you're actually their maid outside of being a magical girl but they don't know that #and you don't know they're the villains always causing so much trouble #crowley is your pocket-sized mentor mascot and he's TERRIBLE at his job #(name): a little help here crowley!!! how am i supposed to beat *that* (gesturing to overblot tako)#crowley: believe in yourself? :3 anyways good luck don't die~~~#too many thoughts...

228 notes · View notes

skyloftian-nutcase · 26 days

Text

The Great Boopathon

Twilight

It had honestly been an accident, a truly sincere miscalculation. Sky tried to remember that Wolfie was Twilight. But sometimes, when the fluffy animal trotted into town, panting from exertion or cheer, Sky just immediately knelt in front of him with a sweet greeting and a gentle boop on the nose.

He didn't think it was possible for an animal to look so offended, but somehow Twilight managed it.

Sky

This was war.

Twilight huffed as he watched Sky sleep. The teenager was out cold, as per usual, curled into himself and covered in blankets. It was a little more unusual than his usual sleep position, in which literally anything was possible because he could fall asleep literally anywhere, but the boy's head cold had him shivering.

That didn't stop Twilight, though. He still remembered the boop. The completely humiliating and degrading gesture, the cute noise Sky made with it as he bapped Twilight's wolf nose gently with a smile on his face and a flush to his cheeks.

Sky moaned miserably, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Twilight swallowed, grabbing his resolve. He walked forward stealthily before laying on the ground, his canine nose stretching forward until it met Sky's own congested one. Then his tail swished back and forth, dusting leaves off the earth.

Sky scrunched his nose in response, tickled by the wetness of it, before he opened his eyes to see a snout. He yelped, trapped in his blankets, and Twilight pounced on him, bapping him with a paw and pinning him in place as he laughed and tried to fight.

Abel

"There's no way you can do it!"

Link glared defiantly in response. He would do this, and there was no stopping him. He would always rise to a challenge. He couldn't afford to fail, he couldn't afford to lose the faith of those who believed in him.

He was stealthier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He could pass for a Sheikah, he was certain. His heart pounded in his chest, anxiety trying but failing to whittle away at his resolve. His naysayer watched with bated breath.

The greatest challenge, of course, were the floorboards. There were some that creaked. It would be absolutely catastrophic if his foe heard his approach. Carefully, Link tried to remember which boards creaked the most, settling his bare feet with such care to distribute his weight properly.

When he finally reached the bed, he nearly failed in his mission. His enemy stirred, almost awakening, but he managed to avoid disaster. Finally, his objective in sight, the Hero of Hyrule leapt, landing on his prey with a mighty hyah.

Abel nearly jumped out of his skin as he was startled awake before getting slammed in the face with a pillow.

"I told you I could do it!" Link yelled at the stairway where his sister, Lyra, was hiding.

Daruk

The leader of the Gorons had many precious memories to make him smile when he was more contemplative in the evenings. Perhaps his favorite, though, was when the Champions met his child, who had been so delighted to meet them that he'd rolled over Revali's toes and crashed into Link's knees, knocking the Hylian over. It had been a fun day in general, but the little boop his boy had given him when he picked him up had been the most delightful part.

It was usually what Daruk would do for the child before bedtime; to have such a simple gesture reciprocated brought him more joy than he could ever articulate.

Shadow Link

He had nearly succeeded in getting away from the damn gloom hands, but his stamina had run out. When they'd caught up to him, he could practically sense the displeasure radiating off them, and his insides froze at the sight of them.

Then one of the hands leaned over and booped him on the nose, making him yelp, before the others grabbed him and teleported him through the gloom back to Ganondorf's location.

"Was that really necessary?" Link grumbled, holding his nose as if it had been burned.

"Yes," the demon king replied without hesitation as he snatched him by his tunic and plopped him beside him. "Now rest."

Mystery Link

Link wasn't sure how it happened, but being completely smothered by his dog was not how he wanted to start his mornings. Nevertheless, it was how Friend decided to be his new morning alarm, slapping his face with a paw as a warning before laying her whole head over him and asphyxiating him.

By the fifth morning, he started wrestling her in response, and she always got so excited about it that she would spend the next few minutes zooming all over the forest, tail tucked and legs flailing in all directions.

Wind

Twilight was acting weird.

Wind was a little worried. After all, he'd only just recovered from his injury recently. Although the sailor had the utmost faith in the elder Hero's abilities, he couldn't help but watch him and see what was up. This was a matter of great importance, and only Wind could truly understand as the others seemed completely oblivious.

He made several observations while the others were pointlessly distracted. Twilight's eyes were wary, looking everywhere as if he were expecting an attack. Wind knew for certain that the rancher hadn't been patrolling because Time and Wild wouldn't allow for it quite yet. But no one else was on edge. It was possible Twilight just felt inadequate or useless, as he was typically the one who tried to shoulder a great deal of responsibility.

Wind moved closer to his dear friend, curious. He was going to ask him outright if he kept this behavior up, but--

Twilight gasped, grabbing Wind around the ribs and holding him like a shield in front of his body, and Wind yelped as Sky poked his nose.

"Hey!" Sky snapped. "No cheating!"

"There are no rules in this war!" Twilight huffed back. Then he gave Wind a squeeze against his torso as a compensatory hug. "Sorry about that, little pirate."

"Ha! Sorry? Let me go, I'll avenge you!" Wind happily offered, already wiggling out of his grip as Sky fled.

Time

"This is getting out of hand," Time said severely, hands on his hips. "And is unbefitting of a Hero."

Twilight looked extremely schooled. If he were in his wolf form, he probably would have his tail between his legs, ears peeled back. Time did not feel guilty in the slightest about it. The camp was in utter disarray, supplies strewn everywhere as Twi's wolf form had utterly destroyed the place and barreled over most of the heroes while he'd tried to escape Sky's little winged mechanical booping machine and Wind's exuberant screams.

Unlike Twilight, Sky looked nearly indifferent, but somehow he managed to convert his expression to apologetic when Time glared at him. Wind, however, was unrepentant.

And giggling.

Time was going to lecture him further when the reason for Wind's laughter dropped out of the nearest tree, landing on Time's shoulders and booping him on the nose.

Sky and Wind cheered as Wild scrambled off Time and fled into the forest, giggling all the way.

#800 boops in twenty minutes is quite the achievement LOL #y'all are too powerful XD #writing #I was tied between Shadow and Mystery being my grumpiest OC Links so I just wrote both lol #different kinds of grumps I suppose #one is teenage angst paired with the insanity/horror of his situation #the other is just 100% Done with everything (which frankly is more fun LOL)#RIP Abel you never had a chance once Link was given a challenge #he does love his side quests and mini games after all and Lyra was ready to give him a challenge #Twi and Sky start to have a boop war #it gets insane #everyone gets dragged into it #Daruk being a Dad made me unexpectedly soft and happy #also RIP Revali's birdie toes #he deserves to be run over it's fine

100 notes · View notes

adrift-in-thyme · 18 days

Text

I worked on the fic as promised and…it got out of hand. So instead of a snippet I’ll just give you guys the whole thing XD Thank you all for providing that extra nudge I needed to finish it!

Though there’s nothing too descriptive here, there are brief mentions of blood, injury, and captivity. So be careful and take care of yourselves <3

————————————————————-

There is another fae in their group.

Hyrule has sensed it since he joined this little band of heroes. Fairy magic is soft, gentle, easy to miss when it is not in concentrated amounts. But there is a strength to it, an unbreakable force that little else possesses.

While the dark arts are vicious, like a javelin through the heart, fairy magic is soothing and unshatterable. Dependable and comforting.

There are many different magical signatures amongst the men and boys who share his name. Some torn apart and melded back together into something stronger. Others as mighty as a gale force wind, or as swift and discerning as a rabbit, as decisive and resilient as a barricade. Still others as fierce as a soaring hawk, as vicious and protective as the wolves that prowl the forest, as crafty and quick as the mischievous foxes that sometimes play around Hyrule’s feet.

Hyrule keeps his eye on them all as they travel, discovering who they are, watching their tells, learning the ways their faces portray their emotions even when they attempt to cloak them. And he wonders who amongst them is a brother in more ways than shared spirit. Who among them flits on a pair of silken wings.

He wonders until the day Time breaks.

Their journey is a long, arduous one, treacherous and laden with pitfalls. It’s only natural that it would take its toll. Still, Time holds out impressively. Even while he studies him with the other heroes, Hyrule never sees that mask of his slip, never sees a chink in the armor he wears.

At least, not for the first three months of traveling together.

But then, one day, there is an accident. A simple slip up born of exhaustion. During a battle with a group of black-blooded beasts in Twilight’s Hyrule, Warriors doesn’t see a monster lunging for him. Not until it’s too late.

And when he crumples into a limp, bloodied heap, Time’s mask shatters.

He doesn’t manage to piece it back together for the rest of the day. Not when he carries Warriors back to camp. Not when he lays the captain down on his bed mat and helps Hyrule tend to him. Not even when Warriors comes to, groggy and sore but very much alive and very much himself.

The captain teases him about being over protective. Time’s answering smile is a hollow one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The injury had been a severe one, Hyrule won’t deny that — perhaps, more so than any of them have endured thus far. But Time seems to take it the hardest of any of them. And Hyrule can’t help wondering if maybe, just maybe there is something more behind his behavior.

Could it be that Time has been feeling the overwhelming nature of this quest the same as the rest of them, caving beneath its weight but unwilling to show it?

So, during dinner that night when Time sets aside his untouched food and slips silently away, Hyrule trails after him.

He goes a short way into the surrounding forest, footsteps soft, ears pricked for any sound of disturbance. Then, he stops, casts a quick glance around him…and disappears.

Hyrule peeks out from the cover of a nearby bush, eyes wide as he stares at the place where the old man had stood. For a long moment, he remains motionless, thoughts whirring, trying to decipher what has just happened.

Hero of Hyrule or not, people don’t simply dissipate like the morning mist. Though, with Time’s seemingly endless collection of masks, he supposes something of the sort is possible. Still…

Hyrule frowns.

There is something else here, hovering in the damp night air. A familiar magic that now drifts lazily over to him in delicate wisps.

Hyrule straightens. His brows dip further.

He knows what Time’s magic looks like, smells like, feels like. It is difficult to ignore, after all, tangled and tortured as it is. Such power is meant to flow freely. But Time’s has been grasped in hands that are not his own, grasped and mangled, suffocated, stretched to its breaking point and further, morphed into something completely unlike what it must have been at the start.

It is nauseating to behold at times. Right now, however, right now Hyrule can’t bring himself to look away. Because threaded in between the heartbreak and pain are gentle strands of the faintest blue fae magic.

The traveler steps forward. His eyes travel over the trail Time’s power has left behind, leading all the way up into the highest branches of a nearby oak. If he squints, he can make out a tiny dot among the lush leaves, shimmering emerald.

His lips part in a silent “oh.” He dares to take another step forward, then another and another, wings issuing from his back as he goes, body shrinking until it too can soar up to the haven of foliage.

Time doesn’t startle when he lands quietly on the branch. He remains sitting where he is, legs hanging over the edge into the open air, wings wafting gracefully back and forth. Hyrule stares at them, almost taken aback by their beauty.

He should have expected it, he supposes. Every fairy’s pride is their wings, after all. But Time’s unforgiving plates of armor, his dull gray tunic and obsidian trousers, the glowing marks of crimson and navy blue adorning his face – they provide such a severe air. Strength, dedication to duty, and unyielding courage are what they convey.

His wings, however, they speak of softer things, fragile things held close and treasured.

They are long, sweeping along the height of Time’s body in flowing curves like those of a butterfly. Their translucent surface is colored a deep emerald and adorned with veins of pale pink. They remind Hyrule of the vibrancy of the forest after a long, hard storm; of the look of leaves when the emerging sun caresses their dewy surfaces.

He walks closer, almost enraptured by this sight. Perhaps, he should turn away from something so vulnerable. That is likely the polite thing to do. But he has traveled far beyond politeness now, mesmerized as he is by this discovery.

And when Time says, “Hello, Hyrule,” there is nothing in his tone to communicate that this is an invasion of his privacy. On the contrary, he sounds calm, unbothered. He pats the spot beside him and slowly, Hyrule settles down upon it. Their wings nearly touch.

“So, it’s you,” he says, awkward and awestruck.

A small smile quirks the old man’s lips. His gaze remains trained on the heroes gathered far, far below them. Their laughter and chatter float up to them in bubbles of murmured joy.

“Yes, it’s me,” he says, mildly, as though this meeting is no shock. As though he has been expecting it for a long while.

Silence settles for a moment as Hyrule scrambles for what else to say.

“How?” Is all he can come up with.

Time chuckles. Hyrule is certain the sound is lighter than usual.

“I’m not sure.” He cocks his head, bangs falling aside so Hyrule can see his markings. “I have theories, of course, but I have no way to prove any of them. And those who might have been able to explain are long gone.”

His voice is good-natured enough but the words carry a weight that Hyrule can feel in his soul. He ducks his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Time shrugs. “Their fates were not your doing. There is no need for you to ache for them. Or for me.” He turns now, a smile brightening his face once more. “What about you, Hyrule? What is the nature of your transformation? Were you born with it?”

“Oh, it’s just a spell,” Hyrule replies, quickly. “Though, I’ve wondered if I was born with fae blood in me. I don’t think it would’ve worked otherwise.”

Time hums, thoughtfully. He is quiet for a moment, once more staring down at their comrades.

“I wondered why I felt the presence of one of my brethren amongst the group. But it wasn’t my place to pry. Besides, I assumed it was only a matter of time before I discovered who it was. Secrets don’t stay concealed for long in a group such as ours.” He grins. “It seems you found me first, however.”

Hyrule laughs. “It sure seems that way.”

“That isn’t why you followed me though, is it?” The old man’s gaze is sharp and discerning as he pins Hyrule with it. The traveler fights not to sink into himself beneath it.

“No.” His voice is a bit smaller than he wants it to be, embarrassment sneaking into it against his will. “It isn’t.”

Time nods and looks away again. Stance relaxed, expression guarded, he waits. Hyrule swallows, gathers his courage, and continues.

“I saw how upset you were about Wars.”

Time flinches almost imperceptibly. The walls that had gone relatively low rise again so far Hyrule is taken aback by it. Yet, he plows on anyway.

If anything, Time’s reaction validates his decision further.

“And…I saw how you tried to hide it, too. And I wanted to make sure you were okay. Because you don’t, old man, you don’t have to hide what you feel.” His gaze travels to those magnificent wings again, grander than his own, yet so similar. “Or what you are.”

“It’s dangerous,” Time murmurs. “You know that, traveler.”

Perhaps, he is talking solely about feelings and the open expression of them. But Hyrule sees a bottle anyway, brimming with desperate magic, translucent sides smeared with blood and tears, it’s top shut so tightly the air has grown thin.

“Not with us,” he says, firm despite the dizzying rush of fear the memories bring. “Not with me.”

He scoots closer. His shoulder bumps against Time’s, their wings brush. Time’s next exhale catches at the end.

To anyone else such proximity would be touching enough, a display of closeness between two brothers in arms and spirit. But Hyrule knows that to fae it means even more than that.

Wings are not only the pride of the fairy people. They are also their greatest power — and their very life. To allow someone else to touch your wings so freely is a show of trust as momentous as when Time had shown them his ocarina. Not the one embued with sacred magic and given to him by Lullaby. No, the one that is even more precious to him that even that one. The one Sariah had given him so very, very, (very, very, Hyrule adds for good measure) long ago.

The stiffness that had seeped into Time’s posture eases slightly. Hyrule feels a smile stretch across his face.

The two of them grow silent, allowing the symphony of night creatures to fill the space between them. Hyrule swings his legs, back and forth, back and forth, listening to the crickets and owls singing in time with the laughter of his brothers. Time still looks down upon them.

Watching over them, Hyrule realizes with a sudden burst of warmth.

Their leader can seem cold sometimes, distant. Little had he known the depths of his love for the heroes with whom he shared a spirit of courage.

There is much, he thinks in wonder, that he doesn’t know about the old man.

Beside him, Time sighs and exhaustion permeates it. “You all aren’t going to give up on me, are you?”

Hyrule sends him a grin. “Nope. We’re not gonna stop until we know all your secrets. All of them. And we’ll know because you’re comfortable enough with us enough to share them, because we’ve earned your trust enough to be gifted them.”

Emotion burns in Time’s eye when he turns to the traveler. His face is more vulnerable than Hyrule has ever seen it before — even when Warriors fell.

“My trust isn’t easy to earn.”

“And Hyrule isn’t easy to save.”

Time holds his gaze for a long moment. Then, he smiles. It is small, almost shy, but Hyrule knows it is a gift. The first of many, if he’s lucky.

“Well, then, I suppose you’re amply prepared for such a challenge.”

Hyrule leans in closer, pride welling within him when Time returns the gesture, and his grin grows.

Yeah. He thinks, watching with wide eyes as fairy dust floats around them. I am.

We all are.

#trin writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linkeduniverse fic #lu time #lu hyrule #angst #but also a hearty helping of #fluff #fairy time au #hehe that’s a tag now #I had so much fun with this #I never write time and hyrule as a duo #which is a shame cause I love their dynamic #so I loved getting a chance to do it here #also #it’s always a joy getting one of the boys to support time #he needs comfort too darn it and he’s gonna get it whether he likes it or not

118 notes · View notes

viperwhispered · 17 days

Text

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #ner writes #jamil definitely knows how to deal with his feels #also writing this is making me wonder how aware jamil is of his inner versus outer life #like he’s very aware of how he comes across because that’s what he’s been told to watch out for #but how well has he truly learned to understand himself and his own feelings wants etc?#(I mean as you can tell I’m assuming not very well)#originally this went to more of a “jamil hears just the wrong part of the conversation” route but #a) I kinda hate that trope especially when it’s dragged on beyond belief and #b) Kalim maybe doesn’t want to spill anyone’s secrets but he really is such an open book especially with Jamil so #also it’s not like jamil needs the extra help to catastrophize he already does that well enough on his own 🙃#tho then I went a little too far in the other direction and had to pull back #but let's just hope I didn't edit this to death by now #also also: since I seem to have a bit of a naming theme going on for this series #if I were to be the sort to go for the angst route what part would definitely be titled Too Late or something along those lines #also x3 but loved folks commenting on that part about reader being inoffensive in the first part #I certainly had fun writing that line #(and in general extra love to everyone who leaves comments on tags replies wherever always great to read those)#(and in general chat with y'all)

115 notes · View notes

venusmage · 2 months

Text

i think im over astarion but then someone draws him really hot and im so back

#sorry ive been absent. queue will be updated soon my pc is at the shop #so im vibin working on comms on my ipad #no art here #i cant play bg3 and am too tired to draw it so i had to post about it instead #i actually wanna write bg3 fanfic but fandoms this large scare me #bc i want some like. GOOD astarion angst w a friendly pc yk #like i personally think hes a huge asshole theough most of the game and thats fun when ur also romancing h8 #him*

56 notes · View notes

123pixieaod · 8 months

Text

Tried to write a fun little fic about why Daniel unfollowed on Instagram Zak, Michael, Fernando, and Nicki, the most random quartet possible, only to end up with this lol

Daniel finally answers a call at just gone 4.30am, Max's time. It's 5.30am, Daniel's time, which admittedly is only marginally better, but maybe the hospital he's in has some crazy Get-Up-And-Seize-The-Day sort of ethos. Although from what Christian has told him, Daniel might not be seizing anything, metaphorically or otherwise, for some time.

"Daniel," Max says as soon as he hears the line clicking through. "How are you? How do you feel? Is your wrist alright? Do the doctors and nurses take care of you, do they speak English, or did Red Bull send a Spanish translator and I hope I have not woken you up and-"

He cuts himself off. There's a sort of stunned silence on the other side of the line. Sometimes, Max thinks his need for Daniel is a bottomless pit, something that has hollowed him out and leaves an ache echoing through him.

"Max?" Daniel says, incredulous. High, drugged up, gone on pain medication. "How did you get into my phone?!"

Max squeezes his eyes shut. His mouth is twisted, making some shape. A smile, a frown? He doesn't know, nobody can see him in his old childhood bedroom.

He wants to be with Daniel. He wants to brush a hand through his curls and run his fingertips along the lines of his faded tattoos like how a child would first begin to trace letters and numbers.

I miss you, he wants to say

I want you

I need you

"I'm not in your phone," he says instead, tone light and soft. "I called you. I am in the Netherlands."

"Oh," Daniel says, as if the fact Max had not been magically transformed into his phone is mildly disappointing. "What are you doing there?"

"We had a race, remember?" Max says. He's stretched out on his old bed. His feet dangle just slightly off the edge, and each year, he's promised a new one, bigger and larger and finally a grown-up bed. But it never materialises and Max has stopped bringing it up now.

The room is unchanged. Around him, the faces of former racing legends watch him, tapped to his wall. Above, stars look down, stuck to his ceiling in haphazard patterns. The day his father got to play God and created universes and cosmos splayed above his head.

"Of course," Daniel huffs good naturedly. "You won, Maxy."

"I know," Max replies softly.

"It was your ninth consecutive win," Daniel continues, his tone strong and proud, as if it's Daniel who has achieved it. Maybe he's so high on meds he thinks it is, that him and Max are some sort of Jeckyl and Hyde being, two sides of the same life. Max doesn't know. A headache is building behind his eyes. He hasn't really slept since Friday, three days previous.

"You're now equalling Sebastian Vettle. If you win the next race, you'll beat the record." Daniel continues before pausing, as if realisation is only just dawning. "I don't think I'll be there."

"No," Max murmurs. "I don't think you will be either."

"My wrist is really fucked," Daniel goes back to his jubilant tone, like a child with the best show and tell in school. "I have a metal plate in it, isn't that neat?"

He laughs. Max closes his eyes, just listening to the sound. "Imagine if it goes off at every airport security, Maxy? How annoying with that be?" He laughs again, the prospect sounding delightful to him in that very moment.

Max hums softly, and then shifts on the bed, turning away from the stars his father hung up for him. Instead, he moves to his side, facing a giant poster of Micheal Schumacher celebrating one of his championships. At the bottom, Max, to great things! MS. He was six. It was one of the best Christmas presents his dad had ever gotten him.

"How do you feel?" He asks. Daniel is humming a tune under his breath, the theme song to some gameshome Max barely recognises. He stops at Max's question.

"Good," he says happily. "I have gained deep clarity."

That shocks a laugh out of Max, as only Daniel, even doped, drugged Daniel, can do. The longing feels physical, the hole never ending in his chest. He closes his eyes, blocking out the stars and racing legends whose shine has faded and whose records he's now beating.

In another life, he thinks, he would be there. He'd be the first face Daniel would see, the first hand he'd get to hold, the first for nearly everything, just like Daniel had been for Max.

But instead they're a time zone apart and Daniel is alone in a country where he can't even speak the language and Max is in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by his family who are fast sleep and utterly oblivious to the fact he's gay, let alone in a relationship with Daniel Ricciardo.

"Clarity," Max forces his mind back on track. "How so?"

"Oh you know," Daniel says with ease. "Cleared my mental space."

Max huffs another laugh. His chest aches, empty. He wonders does Daniel know how hollowed out he is without him.

"Go on."

"Well, I deleted a shit ton of apps. That wellness app you made me download last year? Sorry Maxy, but that went," Daniel makes a popping noise. "And the fertility tracking app Scotty downloaded at his bachelor's party."

"Presumably he just got his and your phones mixed up, right?"

"No Maxy, it was a prank because I -" Daniel breaks away, finally understanding, laughing as if Max has made the funniest joke possible.

"Okay so you cleared up some space on your phone," Max prompts him.

"Oh yes, and then deleted twitter and went to WhatsApp and left about a billion groups and then I went to Instagram, and went through who I followed, and unfollowed tons of people."

"Oh? Did I make the cut?"

Daniel tutts as if Max is being purposefully dense.

"Naturally Maxy. In fact, I sort of debated unfollowing everyone except you, but then figured you might've been pissed at me."

Max can't tell if Daniel is joking or not. He doesn't know which he wants it to be.

"So firstly I unfollowed a bunch of people I had met years ago at business deals and stuff, and then Craig and Rebecca from school because I never really liked them anyway and they definitely never liked me and then Zak because the vibes were Not It and then my high-school teacher who I definitely only ended up following on a dare and -"

"Zak," Max says, picking out the familiar name in the sea of chatter. "As in Zak Brown?"

Daniel hums. "Yeah, the vibes were Not It. And then I also unfollowed Fernando -"

"Alonso?" Max splutters out another laugh of disbelief. "What on earth did he do to you?"

"I don't like how he acts around you."

"Me?!" Max voice goes up an octave. "What? But he's always nice to me Daniel. I like him."

"I know Max, that's the point," Daniel says, and before Max can even begin to comprehend what he means, he's continuing. "And then also Richard, from McLaren because I swear he used to tell Zak everything I did and then Michael, and then Sam, this old hookup, and -"

"Michael," Max cuts in, sure he's mistaken, "as in ..."

"Yeah," Daniel says after a beat. "That Michael."

Max swallows. Michael has been a constant strain on their relationship, the fly in the otherwise smooth ointment. Max had told Daniel he wasn't good for him, he wasn't looking after him. That friendship and business rarely mixed, and that in this case, it had congealed into something of neither, a strange, interdependent relationship which drained them both.

Daniel had said Max hadn't understood it, hadn't gotten how much Michael helped him, how good it was to have a physico who was also his mate. Max replied by saying that as far as he was concerned, Michael was proving himself to be neither.

Jealousy. That was what Daniel had pinned to him, had washed all rationality away with. Max was jealous.

He remembers feeling like he had been slapped. Jealousy. Fucking jealousy.

He never mentioned Michael again.

"But," Max begins slowly, mind whirling. "You had lunch with him last week." Even though you never mentioned it, even though I had to find out through fans' blurry photos.

"Yeah," Daniel draws the syllable out. "But... the vibes were not immaculate."

"Right," Max says, hating how terse the single word sounds. And the vibes were fine when he encouraged you to do that fucked up intermittent fasting? When he recommended yoga and gym sessions instead of therapy?

"And then I unfollowed Nicky Latifi, because unfortunately, he's going to do a masters in London, and following him online will simply remind me of all the missed possibilities I had in the academic world," he goes on.

"Daniel," Max says, trying to force his mind to move on, Daniel has unfollowed Michael Daniel has unfollowed Michael. "You dropped out of school when you were seventeen. In the most loving of ways, I would hardly call you an up and coming scholar."

"Details, Maxy," he says, but then goes quiet, and so does Max. He opens his eyes. His room is painted in shadows, sunrise still distant. The trophies he won as a child are carefully displayed in neat rows, their plaques opaque with dust, now thick and heavy. He remembers winning them, young and already starving for more, remembers the weight of plastic, the way sugary pop soda dried sticky on his skin.

"I think you were right," Daniel says softly. Max nods, face pressed against his pillow.

"I mean about him. Michael."

"I know who you meant," Max murmurs.

"Okay good, because you're definitely not write about my academic prowess, I was one hundred percent on track to be this world's Stephen Hawkens."

Max laughs softly. "It's Hawking not Hawken."

"Once again Maxy, details."

There's another exhale of quiet between them, and outside Max hears the world beginning to rise. Birds waking, their whistles winding their way through the crack in his window.

"I miss you," he says softly, as if the words are barely permitted to be spoken aloud.

"I love you too Maxy," Daniel replies with ease. Then - "you should come. I think it would be nice. If you were here too."

"I think so too," Max says. The longing grows. The trophies are dusty on his shelf, forgotten. His feet hang off his childhood bed. Birds begin to sing.

"So will you?" Daniel persists. Max squeezes his eyes shut.

"I don't know. I do not think you would be saying this if you weren't off your head on pain meds," he tries to joke. His chest aches. Hollowed out, always wanting more than he's allowed.

"Of course I would," Daniel says confidently, even though he ends it with a yawn. "I anyways want you around."

Max keeps his eyes still tightly shut. He tucks his knees up, bringing them to his chest. When he was very young and his parents were still together, he'd do this. Curl up on the bed with his eyes squeezed closed. The door shut, their shouts muffled; as distant as the bird song is to him now.

"Maxy?"

His sister said the same. Maxy? Climbing on his bed, tugging at his arms. What are they talking about? Nothing, nothing, it doesn't matter.

"How's your wrist?" Max asks. He opens his eyes - the room has grown lighter, dawn finally creeping in.

"Good," Daniel says, already forgotten what he said. Like a butterfly, moving onto the next topic, nothing permanent. "Sore. I'm on some strong shit though." He laughs. It sounds so near.

Max imagines it. He could do it. Book the ticket to Spain. It wouldn't even be that bad. People know him and Daniel are mates, and mates visit each other in hospital. And that's if it even comes out, which it might not. Nobody has to know.

"I love you," he blurts out, cheeks warm. Daniel laughs again, soft and delighted.

"Good, because my right hand is currently out of action, so I might need help over the next few weeks with a few particular things."

Max laughs, cheeks warm. He's not being quiet any more. His family can probably hear him through the walls, just like he could hear his parents all those years ago.

He can imagine his sister asking him, echoing their childhood as she questions him on words she's grasped through walls. This time, though, he thinks he will tell her the truth.

"I've heard Spain is very beautiful at the end of August," he says.

Daniel hums, "I've heard something similar, Maxy."

Outside, birds sing. The dawn continues on, filling the emptiness of night.

#shhhh nobody mention the fact the time zones are back to front please #i only realised while editing and I'm too tired to try and fix it #big thanks to Isabel and Lily for talking all about Maxiel longing with me!#lotsa longing here #believe it or not this was meant to be a fun fluffy piece #but apparently I am incapable of not writing angst #parallels!#max unable to differentiate longing for a stable upbringing with longing for Daniel #and so the merging of childhood trauma is occurring with the loving of Daniel #indistinguishable and Max can't figure out which longing is good and which is bad #because as a child he wasn't allowed to want more from his parents #and not Daniel had so much more to give him #but Max had to accept the fact he's allowed to want it before he can have it #jealous dan lol #my fic #my writing

99 notes · View notes

dipplinduo · 3 months

Note

me when kieran brings food for juliana: 💝❤️📈✨🌻🌅🫶

me the second briar touches him and the thoughts come back: 👿👿📉💀🌃😒

WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN LOOOOOL

#i feel this way too tbh #i really enjoy writing their fluff and have things in store and then im like #“oh yeah hes possessed tho”#and then some of the angst scenes have been fun but also heartbreaking as of recently #its just SO important for the plot #it will all payoff #i promise #the moment will be 👌🏼#my fics #dipplinshipping #kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana pokemon #juliana pokemon #juliana x kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana #juliana x kieran

33 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 6 months

Note

Buck breakdown fic :3

-@try-set-me-on-fire

Okay, that one is me trying my hand at diving into Buck's head, as far as I can go. The general concept is Eddie and Chris are caught in a really bad pileup, the 118 is actually one of the houses that responds to it, and Buck doesn't know how to handle the situation, triggering all sorts of stuff. I wanted to play with Buck getting triggered by someone else being in danger and it's easier for me to direct these feelings to Eddie, but if Eddie was the only one hurt, Buck would still bury it for Chris' sake, so I had to make Chris the trigger. It actually started because I kept thinking about Buck in the hospital waiting room waiting for news and someone telling him he is Chris' emergency contact and later finding out that Eddie's advanced directive names him as responsible for Chris' and Eddie's medical decision. I have honestly cried writing most of what I have written kspskspskpaka. My goal is to have Buck screaming, crying, and throwing up, and get him back in therapy. I'm also diving into one layer of the will reveal that I think exists from Buck's side, because I think Buck resents Eddie a little bit for it, because Eddie is forcing Buck to be okay with the idea of him dying, and I have this scene where Buck's yelling at Eddie about it that's the thing that keeps me going, I am writing this fic to reach that scene lol. I'm going back and forth with how badly injured Chris is in this because Eddie is in bad shape, so realistically Chris would also be quite hurt, but I feel so bad hurting him, I keep changing his injuries kspskaakap. If I can make it look half as good as the story I see in my head, this is gonna be my favorite thing I've ever done, but I write it in little bursts because it is emotionally heavy. But I do love this concept so much. Here's the last snippet I've posted. And a little bit of the fight that's actually the climax of the story but it's also the first thing I wrote because I wasn't sure if this idea was worth writing but then I got too attached kspkappakapa

"I knew how-" Eddie cuts himself with a sigh, running a hand over his face, "I thought I knew how you were going to react." "Don't, okay?" Buck shakes his head, trying to keep himself calm, but he's not sure if he actually can, "I'm not the unreasonable one here, were you ever gonna tell me about any of it? If you hadn't been shot would you even tell me about Chris at all? Or if something had happened to you, was all the warning I was gonna get a lawyer saying good luck you're a parent now? After finding out I was responsible for you too? Congratulations you get a kid and a life without him?"

#i like the idea of writing Buck mad with a reason and just fully loosing his filter #just saying everything #and thats whats happening im this scene #and eddie is really confused about the extent of bucks reaction for a while there before he gets what he's saying #its a fun one that i think its gonna be too angsty for most people #but i live for the angst so i like it kspskapakapaka #brick 💜#i really need a tag for asks #buck breakdown fic #wip ask game

28 notes · View notes

padfootastic · 1 year

Text

Day 30 - Trust

written for @prongsfoot-microfic (angst!!!! reader beware!!! lil bit o’ death going on!!!)

“I trusted you.”

Remus’ heart breaks right in half at the past tense.

Trusted.

Such a small difference, but oh, how it changes things. How it changes everything.

“James—“

“No.”

“But—“

“Remus,” James’ voice is simmering with rage and it’s unlike anything Remus has even seen from him. Of them all, he’s the mildest, the most even-tempered, quickest to bounce back. He’s never been one to…stew in his anger but now that he has, Remus doesn’t know where to go from here. What to do.

“I. Trusted. You.” James’ enunciated every word with painful clarity, digging the knife in deeper with each turn. “I thought, if I wasn’t there, then at least you would be to take care of Sirius. If not for him, then for me.”

“I tried, God, I swear I tried, Prongs—“ Remus begs, hands clasped in front of him as if praying. (Not entirely far from the reality—James was their deity, was he not? The centre of their universe, the source of their absolution)

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Remus, you’re already on thin fucking ice.” One shaking finger rises to poke him on the chest. It doesn’t hurt, he can barely feel it through his jumper but it pushes him back nonetheless, almost stumbling into the corner chair behind him. “I know you didn’t try.”

“I did—“ He tries again, though he’s coming to realise it’s futile. For James Potter, there’s no bigger crime than abandoning Sirius. It’s why he has a grudge against the entire Black family and now Remus is on the same list, with the dubious distinction of taking top spot.

“Ask me how I know?”

He stay silent, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer. But this is James Potter they’re talking about. He never gives up.

“Ask me how I fucking know, Remus.” James’ voice reverberates around the entire room, the echoes of his shout ringing in Remus’ ears. The only sound cutting across the deafening silence is heavy panting. Until Remus breaks it.

“How do you know?” His voice, in sharp contrast, is small, timid.

“Because he wouldn’t be dead right now if you did.”

Remus’ neck almost snaps clean in half at how quickly he looked up, both from what James just said and the utterly broken tone in which he did.

“Dead—?” he whispered, unable to believe what he’s hearing. There’s no way Sirius is—No. Just. It’s not possible.

James doesn’t give any more information, doesn’t say anything for a few minutes where they’re both staring—Remus at James, and James into nothingness. He’s never seen such a look of abject despair on anyone’s face, let alone his best friend, and it makes him wonder. How will James ever recover from this? Will he even?

“Do you know, Remus,” James says then, a jagged, sharp smile growing on his lips. It’s humourless, it’s empty, it’s spine-chilling. “Coming from back from the dead after a dozen years to find out your Sirius is locked up and dying, and then to see him take his last breath in front of you? I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy.”

Remus gulps, because he can sense this isn’t the end, there’s more to come and when it does—that’s it. It’ll sever any ties they might’ve had between them at some point, will cut them off entirely.

“But you.” James finally looks at Remus. His eyes are red rimmed but hard as ice, lips twisted into an ugly sneer. “I wish you’d feel even a fraction of what I’m feeling right now. Maybe you’d realise what you did then.”

96 notes · View notes

chloecherrysip · 1 year

Text

Just Beyond My Reach, There's Someone Reaching Back For Me (speculative mario movie fic, mario & luigi centric, around 3600 words.)

[OK SO i literally could not stop thinking about this post in the mario movie tag from last week, which turned into me trying to write out my thoughts about how the scenario could unfold, which then turned into me writing a full-fledged fanfic that's over 3,000 words long??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I've truly lost my common sense, but I just felt like I HAD to get this out before the movie arrives and their reunion is nothing like this in any way whatsoever.

This is a speculative fic of just one possible scenario out of millions, no actual spoilers; i'm working off info we've seen in the trailers/TV spots/promotions/etc, and all the characterization is based off those too, so it might ultimately be off-base. Please don't @ me after the movie comes out and get on my case about details being wrong! I AM IN THE PAST (and jealous of you in the future for having already seen it).

I present to you: A Version Of Mario & Luigi's Reunion in the Mario Movie That Would Cause Me Irreparable Psychic Damage.]

----

Mario hears him first. He would know that panicked yelp anywhere.

By that point, he’s lost count of how many of Bowser’s minions he’s tried to interrogate as he fights his way through the airship. There’s so much shouting and clanging all around him, and his voice hurts from yelling loud enough to be heard over it, but he can’t stop. “Where do you keep prisoners? Have you seen someone who looks like me — but tall, skinny, and green? If you take me to him, I’ll go easy on ya, I swear—”

it’s hard to tell if they’re just refusing to answer him, genuinely don’t know any useful information, or can’t actually communicate in a way he understands — probably some in each column. But he’s about to grab another angry Koopa by the shell and try again when there’s a commotion far off in the distance. The yell that echoes out to him is faint, but it tugs hard at Mario like a rope tied around his middle. Something from his memories, the nightmares he’s been having this whole adventure that he hasn’t told Peach and Toad about. Something instantly, certainly familiar to him in a way that few things are.

His heart is suddenly lodged in his throat. He barrels his way past the troops and the Kongs fighting them, moving fast towards it.

The area of the airship he’s in starts to slope down further ahead, surrounding a huge open space that, judging by the flickering embers in the air and heavy heat that’s got him sweating through his shirt already, has a whole bunch of lava simmering at the bottom. On the other side of the chasm, there are a whole group of what look like angry blue penguins beating down some feisty stacks of Goombas with their bare flippers. There’s also what impossibly looks like a star, with a face and everything, beaming bright and doing twirling cartwheels in the air, giggling at the carnage underneath. And behind all that, he can see—

Mario reacts without having to think. He jolts forward against the railing, reaches a hand out, and yells as loud as he can. “LUIGI!”

He can only see glimpses of his overalls and green hat at first amidst all the other chaos, but then pieces of the ongoing fight tumble further to either side, giving a clear view. Mario watches wide-eyed as his brother frantically swats away Goombas, shrieking and flailing his arm furiously when one snags some teeth through his sleeve until it comes loose. He looks terrified and a little queasy, but also very determined, even jumping in to help when one of the penguins gets pinned down. They seem to be working together.

Luigi is here. He’s really here, alive and fighting and still in one piece. Mario isn’t too late. It feels like a 20 pound weight’s suddenly gone from his back that he hadn't even realized he was carrying around.

His yell is half-drowned out by the chaos, but Luigi’s head still snaps up, eyes wide and stricken and bright with recognition. “Mario?” He cries out, his voice cracking badly. He kicks another Goomba away and then starts spinning, searching the surrounding area with increasing desperation. “Mario!?”

“Over here!” Mario wishes he had another raccoon powerup so he could just fly across the gap and reach him right then and there. He has to settle for taking off his cap and waving it in the air like a flag. “Luigi! Over here!”

Finally, their eyes meet across the gorge. It’s not necessary at that point, but Luigi still tears off his own hat and starts flailing it around too overhead, as if just to make absolutely sure his brother knows where he is. “MARIO!” He shouts, his tired face instantly transforming into a relieved, overjoyed smile.

“Are you okay!?”

“Y-Yeah! I mean, define “okay,” but I, I'm not hurt or anything like — wait, how did you get here!? We’re way up in the air!”

Mario’s face already hurts from how wide he’s grinning. “Not anymore! And whaddya mean? What do ya think I’ve been doing all this time? Looking for you! You don’t think I could find you wherever you are, even if it’s a million miles in the air? Give your big bro some credit, eh?”

A laugh bursts out of Luigi, surprised and shaky. Mario has missed that sound so much. “Right, right. I did think…I mean, I hoped, or…” His brother shakes his head, his voice failing him. He lets out a deep breath, so deep that it’s almost like he’s been holding it in ever since they were separated, still smiling like the sun. “I knew you would. Mario, you — look out!”

Mario turns just as a hammer goes whizzing past his ear, tumbling down into the lava pit. He dodges the next one more capably and then catches the third one that comes his way. In one smooth, lightning-quick motion, he throws it back at the attacking Hammer Bro, nailing him in the face and knocking him out cold.

“Whoa!” He turns back to see Luigi staring with his mouth agape. “When did you learn how to do that?”

“It's kinda a long story!” There will be plenty of time to get into all the details about his adventure when he’s gotten Luigi safely out of an active warzone. “What about you? I thought you were a prisoner here!”

“I am! Or I was, I guess! We — me, and the penguins, and Lumalee,” he gestures wearily up overhead, where the blue star-thing is idly playing with a pinwheel that it somehow conjured out of thin air, “and the others — we broke out! We, ah, we’ve been trying to find a way outta here ever since, but this place is a maze and we need some kind of hot air balloon or one of those floating clown-car thingies to even get away in the first place, and—”

“Spinies at four o’clock!” One of the penguins shouts, at the same time that Mario yells “Luigi, on your left!”

Luigi jolts at the sight of the three spiky, spinning shells approaching fast. He jumps high enough to leapfrog right over them all, causing them to ricochet off the wall unexpectedly and careen off the side straight into the deep pit.

“Nice, Weegie!” Mario cheers. “You always were the better jumper.”

“Keep your head in the fight, soldier!” One specific penguin calls out to Luigi. He’s wearing a very fancy gold crown — probably their king? “We’re not done here yet!”

“I know, I know, but look!” Luigi gestures excitedly across the chasm. “My brother’s here! He made it!”

“Good show! If he’s as brave as you said, he can help us beat back these dastardly troops once and for all! We’ll all see the light of day again soon!”

The rest of the penguins cheer, thrusting their flippers victoriously into the air, and then let out a wave of new, guttural battle cries. The Penguin King smiles over at Mario and salutes him before rejoining the fray. There are more of Bowser’s minions crowding the walkways on both sides, Mario realizes with a newfound wave of worry. He needs to get to Luigi now.

“Stay right there!” He calls, starting to run alongside the railing. “Don’t move! I’m coming!”

“Are you kidding!? Wait!” Luigi starts running too, mirroring Mario. “I can meet you faster this way!”

Mario laughs. “If you can keep up with me!”

“You’re on!”

The road ahead of him is pure chaos, filled with attacking enemies and whooping Kongs and weapons flying every which way, but Mario runs. He runs until his heart burns, dodging and weaving, almost tripping here and there because he can’t stop looking over the gap to make sure Luigi’s still there on the other side, stumbling his way through his own gauntlet. The two areas are winding closer together, slowly but surely. They must meet somewhere. He’ll find it. He has to.

“Hey, Luigi!” He yells, breathless and happy. “Remember when we were fixing Mrs. McGrady’s sink a couple weeks ago and talking about the future? Did you imagine it’d be anything like this?”

“Whaddya think!?” Luigi shouts back jokingly. “I-I mean, I imagined people being mad at us, but those were customers. There was definitely a lot less lava, and magic, and crazy green pipes that send you to places from your literal nightmares!” He laughs, which swiftly turns into a yelp when he has to dodge away from a red Koopa. The next words come out thicker, almost strained. “Mario, you, you’re really here, you — I missed you, I…”

Even with the distance and the distracting noise and the heavy breathing, Mario can hear the familiar tearing in his brother’s voice, and it pushes him to run faster. Luigi is so much braver than many people in their life have given him credit for, but he has a breaking point, and Mario can recognize it like the back of his own hand. Heck, he could use a good cry right about now too. They're so close. Just a little further.

He’s never been the biggest hugger — that title belongs squarely to Luigi, who always holds on a little too long, especially when Mario protests, swinging him up into the air until Mario has to grab him in a headlock and wrestle him down, both of them laughing by then — but he genuinely doesn’t know how he’s ever going to let go of his brother again once he’s within arm’s reach.

“I missed you too! Every day!” He calls out, and if his voice cracks, well, that’s okay. “Hold on! It’s gotta be just up ahead!” There’s a solid wall coming up where they won’t be able to see each other across the way any longer, but the sharp curve of it looks extremely promising. “I’ll meet you on the other side!”

“Okay!”

The wall comes between them. Mario's finally in the clear, having left all the attackers in the dust. His legs and chest hurt, but it doesn’t matter. He's about to get his brother back. He feels invincible, unstoppable.

“I told you, bro!” He can’t hear Luigi at all any longer, but he shouts anyway, hoping the words reach him. “Even if it didn’t turn out like we thought, it’s all gonna be okay! This is crazy stuff, but as long as we're—”

Mario turns the corner and skids to a sharp stop. The words die in his throat, turning to ash.

Bowser is in front of him.

The King of the Koopas nearly fills the entire space wall-to-wall, hulking and monstrous, even bigger than what Mario imagined. He breathes out an angry, deep growl that prickles at Mario’s skin, star-bright embers scattering in the air, the smell of burning getting stronger and stronger. But none of that is what Mario is focusing on. He’s frozen in place at the sight of Luigi, wriggling in one of Bowser’s gripped hands. A thick, scaly finger is coiled tight over his brother’s mouth too, keeping him from making any noise besides a variety of muffled, panicked sounds.

“Thought you didn’t know him, Greenie,” Bowser says in a low voice to Luigi. “Wasn’t that what you said? Boy, you wouldn’t like what I usually do to liars. It involves fire — a lot of it.” His rows of sharp teeth part, just enough for a big exhale, tinged with molten heat. Luigi cringes, turning his head away as far as he can manage. He’s trembling. “But lucky for you, turns out you’re not entirely useless.”

It takes a moment for Mario to come back into his body, remember how to move and think. But slowly, his hands ball into fists. A voice erupts out of him that barely sounds like his own, grave and angry, angrier than he’s ever been in his life.

“I’m only gonna say this once, ya overgrown turtle,” he says, shifting his footing into a fighting stance. “Let my brother go now.”

Bowser looks down at him with a derisive sort of amusement for a long moment before laughing outright. "Give me a break, shortie! You’re even punier in person — 50 of you couldn't stop me. But that hasn’t stopped you from trying, has it? You and your little friends — your pathetic excuse for an “army,” if that’s what you want to call it. But that all ends now.”

As if on cue, Mario hears DK and a few other Kongs turn the corner, whooping and hollering, only to pause too at the sight of Bowser. “Let’s get ‘em! He can't take us all at once!” Someone says, and there’s a rush of new movement behind Mario. Bowser turns Luigi in his hand, holding him out a little closer to Mario with a shake of the wrist — a taunt. One of his claws pulls up just a little from the rest, the sharp tip arched and pressed lightly to his brother’s neck. The implication is clear.

“Stop!” Mario shouts, half-strangled. He must sound serious enough that DK yells “hang on, hang on!” to his brethren, grabbing them with both arms and holding them back from attacking. On Bowser's other side, Mario can see the penguins watching what’s unfolding too with wide eyes. Even all the minions in the area have gone still, weapons lowered, waiting to see what Bowser does before making their next move. The space is suddenly quiet.

The claw finally relaxes again. Luigi’s eyes are very wide, and there are tears on his face as he stares at Mario. He tries to say something, the sound of it hopelessly muffled against Bowser’s hand — an apology, or a plea, or simply Mario’s name.

Mario is shaking. He grits his teeth hard, desperately tries to hold himself steady again. He hopes Bowser can’t see it — but there’s a gleam in the King’s eyes, and it couldn’t be any clearer that he does.

“Do you know how long I worked on this plan?” Bowser says, his tone softer, more thoughtful all of a sudden. “Orchestrating these invasions, gathering forces far and wide to serve me, taking the almighty power star for myself. I’ve wanted this for years!” His wide mouth curves up, plainly wicked and self-satisfied. “And now here I am, about to rule the world like I deserve, and a couple of useless, pipsqueak plumbers from who-knows-where think they’re just gonna waltz right in and ruin it for me.” Bowser chuckles to himself. It’s a dangerous, sharp-edged sound, echoing on and on. “Ain’t that a laugh, Mario?”

Mario doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know if he’s breathing any longer. All he can do is glare.

Bowser shrugs. The large fingers on his occupied hand flex ever so slightly, a slow, malicious ripple of movement, all the scales glinting in a wave. “You’re less fun than I thought you’d be,” he says gruffly. "What does the princess even see in you? A tiny little killjoy who loves ruining things for others. Guess it’s only fair I ruin something of yours to make us even."

There’s no further warning or fanfare. In one brutal motion, Bowser crushes his grip tighter around Luigi. His brother’s mouth is still covered, but the way he cries out is starkly, unmistakably pained.

Mario’s vision floods with red. Something inside of him, the patient, careful part that was still desperately clinging to one last scrap of self-control, snaps cleanly in two. He runs at Bowser full-speed, fist cocked back, teeth bared.

“I said LET HIM GO!”

He doesn’t make it there. Bowser, grinning outright, moves so much faster than Mario would have ever guessed he could. He spins, and his tail comes out of nowhere. The impact is like an oncoming train, catapulting Mario into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.

There’s a horrible ringing sound in his ears. His head hurts. He hears Bowser laugh, followed by a roar and a burst of fire breath, awful-smelling and close enough to singe. There’s a lot of shouting, and panic, and thunderous footsteps, moving in a hurry. He can’t think any longer. Why can’t he think? All that comes to mind is—

(They’re fifteen, hiding in their bedroom with some smuggled bandages and antibiotics from the medicine cabinet because if their mom finds out Mario punched out a kid behind the school, she will LITERALLY murder him. Luigi wraps each bruised knuckle carefully as Mario winces and complains about the stinging ointment. His brother looks angrier than he’s ever seen him before, though, and that makes him quiet again in a hurry.)

“You want him so bad?” Bowser is much further away, his voice a distant rumble over the flickering flames. Get up, Mario tells himself. He’s gasping, struggling to push himself back up with useless, trembling hands. His legs feel numb. Get up! “Then come and get ‘em already!”

(“You never stop and THINK first, y’know?” Luigi shakes his head, badly trying to hide the tears budding under his eyes. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s all my fault, and — and I don’t need you to do stuff like that for me! I can handle it, e-even if you think I can’t!”)

“Mario!” That’s Luigi, terrified and wheezing, finally able to talk again. An intentional decision by Bowser, no doubt, just to be cruel. Mario can barely hear his brother at all, and the sound of his voice keeps growing fainter. “No! Let go! MARIO!”

(“What are you even saying? That’s not why I did it at all!” Mario insists, using his uninjured hand to flick Luigi’s nose with a few fingers. His affronted expression at that makes Mario laugh, and the motion quickly turns into them trying to be the first one to swat each other in the face without getting blocked. At least the tears are forgotten, which is what he wanted from the start. “Don’t ya get it? I know you can take care of yourself. But if anyone wants to hurt you, they’re gonna have to go through me first. I’M the big bro, and that’s just how it is forever.”)

Luigi!

He’s standing again, even as his body protests every pull and push of the way, even as he’s still struggling to open his eyes. Someone strong and furry offers some extra support on his right side.

“You okay, man?” Donkey Kong asks. “Geez, that looked like it hurt. Hey, anyone have an extra mushroom?”

Stars are flashing across his vision, but finally they fade away. There’s a line of fire in front of them like a makeshift barrier, slowly but steadily dying out. Sure enough, Bowser and Luigi are gone. Mario’s heart lurches hard against his ribs.

“Setting a devious trap for sure,” The Penguin King grouses from further away. “Using one’s own flesh and blood! Does that dastardly Koopa’s depravity know no limits?”

“I’m fine. Never better,” Mario groans. He points past the fire. “He went that way, right?”

DK blinks, looking a little uneasy. “Uh, yeah, but we should probably regroup first and — hey! Wait a second, you idiot!”

Mario’s already charged full-speed ahead, jumping over the flames. Others yell after him too, saying it's too dangerous, but he’s running anyway, chasing the smell of molten heat, the faint, far-off echoes of yelling that feel like pinpricks in his lungs.

He knows it’s a trap. He knows. He just doesn’t care.

He already let Luigi literally slip through his hands once before. Heck, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for that alone. No matter where he has to go, who he has to fight, how much abuse he has to take, he's getting Luigi back right now, and he's gonna pound that overgrown bully's face until he regrets every life decision that led to him daring to hurt Mario's little brother.

It can't be too late. He can't have screwed this up again. He'll do anything. Even if...

The feeling of something on his cap startles him out of the thought — the softest boop-boop-boop, like someone very small is bouncing on it. He assumes he’s just imagining things until the blue star-thing (Lumalee?) floats down further, easily keeping up with his top speed, humming what sounds like a lullaby. Mario gawks in its direction.

“The biggest sacrifices are often the ones that burn the brightest, out in space,” it says, bright and sing-song. “Did you know that?”

“What are you even talking about!?” Mario yells. “Sorry, but I’m a little busy here!”

It’s unbothered by that, twirling close enough to give his mustache a little, playful poke. “Not existing any longer is natural, inevitable. We all go into the light someday.” The way it’s staring at Mario is unnerving, as though this little, creepy star knows exactly what he was just thinking about. “You look scared of that. Are you?”

Mario swallows thickly.

“No,” he says. “If that’s the only way, then…” His eyes are burning at the edges, just a little. “If the people I love are safe, then it doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

Lumalee smiles a dreamy, thoughtful smile.

“Oh,” it sighs, little more than a breath. “This is going to be so much fun.”

And then it floats away.

Mario doesn’t have time to stop and wonder what that was all about. He throws himself deeper and deeper into the airship, even when a heavy metal gate slams down behind him to separate him from the others, even when the slabs of rock under his feet sink down into the lava from the weight and don’t resurface, erasing any way out. Mario thinks of his training, of Princess Peach and Toad cheering him on, of the exhilaration and hope he felt looking out over the Rainbow Road, of Luigi smiling in the warp zone right before they were ripped apart. He steels himself for what’s coming next.

Further ahead, he hears his brother call out for him.

Mario runs.

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #super mario bros #mario and luigi #super mario bros movie #cherrysip fic #super mario bros movie spoilers #(again NO SPOILERS IN THE FIC ITSELF unless you've been avoiding all trailers and TV spots but just to be safe)#(although i AM going to post a small music-related spoiler down here in the tags so don't read if you want to avoid!!!!)#'hey what were you insinuating with that weird convo at the end there' NOTHING [pointedly stares at one up mushroom in promotional stuff]#LOL this is WAY TOO DRAMATIC and probably too violent for a kid's movie but LOOK #i just need them to pay off the 'bowser is looking for mario's weakness and luigi ultimately IS the weakness' thing. I NEED IT #even if it's just in a small moment. bowser wants to fight mario but he does NOT play fair if he thinks he'll lose. I CRAVE THE ANGST #i was actually going to go a little further with the scene and carry it all the way to bowser saying 'let's end this' like in the trailer #but i just really liked this foreboding ending note #if you are curious about what came next in my head (and also where the heck peach is in all of this) mario ends up in bowser's throne room #and sees that peach has been captured too which is a whole new fun wave of horror that he didn't know about #luigi's been thrown in with her and she's helping him because he's obviously a little hurt after being SQUEEZED #the power star hangs over bowser's throne like the chekhov's gun it is. and we begin!#(the only thing i really wanted to write that i didn't get to by cutting earlier was some more mario + bowser dialogue)#(i think mario would be too tense to say much in the scene i have but once they're squaring off he's a smartass for sure)#(he's known a lot of bullies in his life and bowser is just a much bigger scalier one)#(the title is from the song 'holding out for a hero' which apparently according to a new interview is IN the movie!)#(during mario's training montage so i started listening to it and it basically become my background music for writing this lol)#(last stupid thought before i shut up: bowser hitting mario with his tail is included because i recently played mario odyssey and bowser #kept absolutely BODYING me with that move in the end fight. i died twice because i am bad at games lololol)

67 notes · View notes

tasmanianstripes · 9 months

Text

People need to practice minding their own damn business

Don't come into people's inboxes giving unsolicited advice or criticizing their personal stuff. Don't reblog somebody's posts saying how much you hate it and their opinions.

Don't like somebody's characterisation, AUs or the kind of art they post? It might even annoy you?

Okay, cool. Go make your own post. Block them. Be a little hater about it to your friends. It's good for your soul!

But don't be goddamn rude to people. Don't make it their problem.

"I don't like what this artist likes mah mah mah"

Here's a wild idea;

Artists...don't need to cater to you. You are not entitles to their work. Nobody on the internet should coddle you and post only stuff you like.

Shocker, I know.

#thylacines can talk #Yes this is about PK #When you like an antagonist people expect you to be a negative nancy 24/7 and put a disclaimer everytime you make something with them about #how much they suck as a person #Guess what! Having to shittalk your fave all the time to not risk being 'that kind of fan'...isnt fun. It's miserable even!#Anmoying as fuck too! Yes I know he did this unforgivable thing. I'm not an idiot. That's why I like PK. Fucker's got nuance #Is he a bad person? Absolutely. Will I talk about him being a bad person and the horrible things he did? Also yes. When I want to. It's #very fun to explore that part of the story and how it influenced their victims. Will I give you a fucking essay on why he's a bad person #everytime I want to post something funny or lighthearted about him? No. Piss off.#I cannot only focus on angst and heart-wrenching part of the story. I also like to make stuff of the lighthearted parts of my AUs.#And I don't feel like writing down an entire disclaimer and breakdown of how PK's and WL's redemption arcs went to justify it #Having to constantly put disclaimers to justify you liking a morally grey and bad characters is EXHAUSTING. Only being able to talk about #this character with someone when it proteins to how awful they are is EXHAUSTING.#YES they're bad people. But going into peoples dms or inbox or tags and talking to them about how ugly and bad and evil their fave is #exhausting to deal with and NOT fun. Like I. KNOW. LIKE LET ME LIKE A DEEPLY FLAWED NUANCED FUCKED UP CHARACTER IN PEACE WITHOUT HAVING TO #ALWAYS PUT A DISCLAIMER OUT THERE ABOUT HOW AWFUL THEY ARE. GOOD GOD.#It's especially annoying because I like characterisation of PK that is very morally grey. To me purely evil and not compassionate PK is #fun...in a short run. I much prefer a man whos riddled with guilt over what he did even if he believed it to be necessary evil and who dies #Because of his regret. I love the idea of a father who sacrificed his own children so that no parent had to lose their own. And the tragedy #of him deeply loving PV and still doing what he did. A good person who was faced with an impossible choice and committed unspeakable #cruelty for what he believed to be the greater good. A man who doesnt believe he's deserving of redemption not forgiveness and who doomed #himself. I like a nuanced morally grey PK with LAYERS. Treating him as a purely evil uncaring person who never loved his children sucks ALL #the fun out of him for me. And don't get me wrong I LOVE villains who are evil for evil's sake. I LOVE old school Disney villains who are #scumbags just because they can be and have a little bit a swag to it. But PK just. Isn't that kind of villain to me.#I don't even like calling him a villain. An antagonist? Maybe. A morally grey character that kicked off the entire story with his one act #of unspeakable cruelty? Yup. But I don't see him as the villain of HK.#Wow that was a long rant #Well I got that out of my system at least #I love the Pale King and I could talk for HOURS about why I love him as a character and about his actions. It's just tiring when I have to #do it to justify myself and my lighthearted content of him.

17 notes · View notes

orcelito · 1 year

Text

OK so I have an inkling of an idea for a trigun ficlet. A one-shot, really. Not really any plot, but I just have the urge to write my own interpretation of Weird Plant Shit. Like for how much ppl tag this stuff as xeno, most of it's honestly pretty tame. Which kinda makes sense, considering a lot of this is being based off of the plants in stampede, which While uncanny are not NEARLY the amount of inherent horror of the plants in the manga. There's some FREAKY shit going on there. So like. You know. What if I took more inspiration from That for Vash's freaky shit?

#speculation nation #YES this is for a smut idea. dont judge me #ive never posted smut b4 bc ive exclusively been writing akeshu & theyre teenagers #im not interested in writing smut of teenagers #but i have my interests 😭 and i am an undeniable monster fucker. we been knew.#just. vague idea. ppl have run with the plant idea. & id wanna too. but in a different sort of way.#thinking more. venus fly trap kind of situation. NOT easily translatable to human biology #the kinds of shit that may trip even the most adventurous man up. but we all know he would take it in stride in the end.#idfk so much of the allure of this pairing to me is the inherent inhuman nature of vash's physical form. and how that manifests everywhere #the human and the angel. for all that entails.#i dont have an idea for an actual story for these characters yet. my brain is spinning them but it hasnt come up with that yet #but a lil smth self indulgent to just play around with Fun Ideas? i reaaally wanna go for it.#we'll see if i end up writing this. & if i end up posting it.#im both somehow Very solidly kinky and VERY solidly shy about it. aka why i barely post about that kind of stuff.#face in my hands just talking about this here. who knows how i'd fare with posting it.#but if i go thru the trouble of writing it you BET id go thru the trouble of posting it #and you B E T itd be angsty. the inherent longing and unsaid words. what am i if not an unrepentant angst writer lol #thoughts & ideas r spinning. i will have a merry little time.#uhm. do i need to tag this as anything. is this too tmi? i dont even know #WELL if u read the word 'xeno' and keep reading that's on U. sorry #here just in case if ppl r worried i will tag this as #tmi/#sorry lol

19 notes · View notes

skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years

Note

I... I see you ask box says writing prompts too? Could I maybe if you feel like writing it ever request a scene of healthcare au Hyrule getting a hug? Or on break? Or having a day off? Whether its because he's sick or something really bad happened or if its just a good day and his friends just love him or whatever is up to you.

(@ludoluck @keestones @paradoxical-hermitcrab @artisticgamer)

Have all the Hyrule fuff and hurt/comfort, sweetheart. <3

The tones dropped, making Hyrule jump out of his skin. He bolted up in bed, flinging the blanket off him when he saw Mo stretching lazily and looking at his watch.

"It's shift change, Roolie," Mo said sleepily. "Not our call anymore."

Hyrule blinked once, twice, and then it sank in. He sighed in relief, falling back to his pillow. Thank goodness.

He had two whole days off now. And he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them, but he would definitely figure something out.

Hopping out of bed and throwing the linens into the laundry bin, he opted for having a nice warm shower and he'd start figuring out what to do from there. As the water ran over him, he remembered that he'd told Legend he'd stop by his place to hang out for a bit. Legend was a night shifter, so he was likely asleep right now, which meant Hyrule could spend the morning hiking on the mountain trails outside of town.

As Hyrule biked away from the station, he giggled, letting the morning breeze wake him up. He felt so alive letting gravity push him down a gigantic hill that he laughed the entire way to the bottom. The smell of his favorite bakery wafted in the air, and he parked his bike outside the shop and strolled in.

"Good morning, Pita," Hyrule greeted with a smile.

Pita turned, her brown eyes brightening. "Oh, hello, Hyrule! We haven't seen you all week, I was getting worried!"

Hyrule rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I had picked up a few extra shits and this bakery isn't in our first due."

Pita put her hands on her hips with a humph. "Well, it should be, and you shouldn't be working so hard. Now, you want the usual?"

Hyrule nodded eagerly, and then he turned to find a table when he saw a familiar face.

"Four?" he asked, prompting the person in question to look up. It was Four, snuggled warmly in a slightly oversized tie dye hoodie with a book propped open beside some scones and tea.

The ICU nurse smiled warmly. "Hey, Hyrule! What are you doing here?"

"I come here on my days off because they've got the best bread in town," Hyrule answered, walking over to his friend's table. "You?"

Four moved a newspaper from the other side of the table, giving Hyrule space. "I come here every day that I can. It's a nice little morning routine when I have mornings to spare."

Hyrule hesitated. "Oh, I--I don't want to interrupt your morning routine--"

"Roolie, sit down," Four said exasperatedly with a good-natured roll of his eyes. "It's nice to see you not wearing a duty uniform once in a while."

"Yeah," Hyrule laughed a little. "I get that a lot. I guess maybe I should try to take some more time off."

Four watched him almost pleadingly. "Please do."

Moving past that subject, the paramedic asked, "What are you reading?"

Four immediately brightened, and dove into a full narrative of the story, which was about a group of heroes trying to destroy a cursed magical item. Hyrule was so enthralled by the story that he didn't realize how much time passed until his phone started buzzing.

Hyrule! Where the hell are you, you dope don't tell me you picked up another damn shift!

Hyrule read the text on his home page, and without even having to look at the sender he laughed. Legend had apparently woken up early.

Four and Hyrule parted ways, and after about a half hour's bike ride, Hyrule arrived at Legend's apartment. His friend met him outside, stretching and yawning.

"Rav's on the warpath and I didn't want you to get dragged into it," Legend remarked at seeing Hyrule's questioning look.

"About what?"

The travel nurse shrugged. "Probably because I hid his stuff. But that's what he gets for selling mine."

Hyrule laughed and then stopped himself, embarrassed. He wasn't sure Legend found it a laughing matter, but the pair was entertainingly chaotic. It was almost as bad as watching Legend and Warriors go at each other, or Warriors and Twilight.

"So where are we going?" Hyrule asked.

Legend pulled up the map on his phone. "Well, last century when you had a day off, we went to Beedle's to check out his wares... oh wait, I just remembered--I saw this place and thought we should check it out!"

Hyrule walked over to look at where Legend was pointing. "Misery Mire? What's that?"

"It's an escape room!" Legend answered. "I bet they got some great prizes if we can crack it."

Hyrule smiled in excitement. He loved solving puzzles with Legend. "Let's go!"

XXX

Hyrule had known the code was rough. But it hadn't been his first code. It hadn't been the first time a patient had died and he hadn't gotten them back. He'd known it would make him feel a little tired for a day or so and then he'd move on. That's how it worked. He had to move on.

He hadn't expected this one to linger.

He'd thought he was fine. Truly, he did. Until he'd happened to look at an X-ray of some random patient in the emergency department, glancing at it over Warriors' shoulder as he babbled about something to Legend, and then suddenly Hyrule felt the grandmother's ribs breaking under his hands all over again as if he were in his ambulance doing compressions, the grandson sobbing outside his truck.

And then he'd realized that maybe he wasn't okay.

So here he was, sitting at Telma's Bar and sipping some milk and just... existing. He didn't really know how to address the issue. He'd gone over the code multiple times, and he knew that he'd done what he could. He didn't understand why this one in particular hit so hard.

Maybe it was that he had told the grandson he was going to be okay. Maybe it was that he had told the grandson he would take good care of his grandmother.

It wasn't like he hadn't, he couldn't help that she'd died. Her blood pressure was better when he was doing chest compressions on her than when she had been alive! He'd obviously done what he could.

So why is this bothering me so much?!

Sky would say he should go to church and pray about it. That's what Sky did a lot. But Hyrule didn't really know what he was supposed to pray about or say about it. So he just sat here instead.

"Hyrule?"

Hyrule nearly jumped out of his skin, and he turned sharply to see Twilight.

"Hey, buddy, what's wrong?" Twi asked gently, cocking his head to the side. Apparently it was obvious that Hyrule wasn't feeling great.

And something about Twilight's tone of voice just set him off.

Hyrule immediately felt his eyes start to water, his throat tightened, and his entire body trembled. He bit his tongue, hoping the pain would make the reaction recede, but it didn't really help. He couldn't eve choke out any words at this point. Crap.

Twilight watched him a moment longer before approaching and carefully encircling his arms around the medic in a gentle hug. Hyrule melted into it, crying softly into Twi's shirt, gripping it and shaking like a leaf.

He couldn't put what was wrong into words, but he didn't have to. Twilight just held him, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down his back. And somehow that was enough, allowing the young medic to just let himself go.

#I am CRACKING UP that I've abused poor Hyrule so much that someone had to request he get a break XD #poor baby #you ask skye answers #lovely anon #writing prompt #writing #lu in healthcare #lu hyrule #yo there is an actual bakery in minish cap #AND THEIR NAMES ARE ACTUALLY WHEATON AND PITA #I groaned and laughed at the same time #I legit had to pull up a city on the map on my phone and just peruse to see what city folk do XD #I don't get out much in case you hadn't noticed LOL #I was going to write just pure fluff and fun and then I remembered you requested Hyrule get a hug too #and he doesn't strike me as someone who gives or receives hugs willy nilly #so then I had to angst him up a bit #praying DOES help Roolie there's literally no special words for it #I did this exact thing and just bawled for like an hour by myself at church lol #and then told myself that with God's help I'm stronger than the issue that was weighing me down #and then stubbornness kicked in LOL #didn't fix it immediately but the world moved on and I learned to as well #anyway that was probably way too personal but whateeeevs #figured somebody might need to hear it to help themselves somehow #enough rambling now #sometimes a hug is the best support you can offer to someone #and Twi gives some of the best hugs because Twi is awesome #lu four #lu legend #lu twilight #I had the thought that escape rooms are literally Zelda dungeons and now I want to tackle an escape room

65 notes · View notes