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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

Your work has been bringing me a lot of comfort so thank you first of all 🩷 I've been going through it and your writing has been helping me stay slightly sane which I can't thank you enough for

Could I request one where cassian helps the reader through a really bad depressive episode? Like she isn't coming to training and she brushes it off as being sick at first but after awhile he gets suspicious and goes to check on her when he notices her skipping on meals as well only to find her buried in her covers surrounded by her stuffed animals trying to deal with the depressive episode on her own. Maybe he drags her out of bed and draws her a bath, makes her her favorite meal and cuddles her to help her feel like herself?

Thank you again, you're doing great!!

Not alone.

Cassian x f!Reader.

Masterlist.

Warnings; depression.

Before we begin I want to write a few words about this request. I was in tears when I read your kind words, thank you so much. It means the world to me that in some way I helped you. I've been there too, so I opened this blog and started writing. My fics are a way of escaping the real world, the inner circle has become my family and this blog is a way to live in their world. I want you to know that you are not alone and if this is helping you cope then I will be glad to write as many requests as you want. If you ever want to talk to someone I'm here! I really hope you enjoy this... it might be a little messy because depressive episodes are like that and I wanted to point it out.

Night came… but the sun was out, the darkness around you made it difficult to tell day and night apart. You had been through this multiple times and you dreaded the moment it would happen again. You were right.... this time it was harder, you didn’t want to move but you couldn’t stay into one place for long as you would feel a weight pushing down on you. Breathing became a burden, after two breaths a sigh would escape. There wasn’t an actual reason why you were going through this, it just happened out of nowhere like someone was sucking all the happiness out of you leaving you broken and tired. You were so used to it that with the first sign you blocked the mating bond so Cassian wouldn’t realise what was happening. You didn’t want your mate to see you like this, you knew he would do everything in his power to help you, but you didn’t want to bother him… after all you were used going through this alone.

The door of your bedroom opened slowly and Cassian walked in, a worried look on his face.

“Hey doll, did you forget about training?” His voice was soft and he took a seat next to you on the bed. You were laying face down, hugging your pillow. Cassian rubbed your back as he waited for you to respond.

“I don’t feel good, I think I’m catching a cold.” You murmured.

“Okay... I will get you some tea and then we can go see Madja!” He replied and got up.

“No it’s okay, I’m a bit nauseous so I don’t want to drink anything. You should go to training, the Valkyries need you”

He stared at your back for a few minutes and then let out a sigh.

“Okay… but pull the bond if you need anything and if you get worse we are going to Madja.” he sighed.

“Okay” you replied and he left.

Tears filled your eyes but never escaped, you weren’t holding them back but still they just blurred your vision… maybe your body was so tired that it couldn’t bother to let the tears out. With a sigh you got up and gathered all your stuffed animals and placed them around your bed, creating a small nest and laying in the middle of it.

Cassian finished his training and headed to the dining room with a smile on his face expecting to see you there having lunch. The smile turned into a frown when he scanned the empty room. He turned around ready to come find you when Rhysand’s voice in his mind stopped him.

Cass I need you in the river house. Now.

He cursed and headed to the balcony, stretching his wings and shooting up.

They spent most of the day in Rhysand’s office talking about Keir and his plans, Azriel’s spies had informed him that Keir was acting suspiciously but they didn’t know what was happening.

Rhysand rubbed his face as they once again fell into a dead end.

“I will send my shadows” Azriel reassured him.

“We need to find out what he is planning as soon as possible, I won’t risk Nyx getting hurt.” Rhysand sighed.

Cassian nodded and left the office, he stopped by your favorite bakery and bought some cookies he knew you loved.

He landed on the balcony of the house of wind and walked inside, grinning as he saw Nyx on the ground playing with some toys.

“Hey Cass where is y/n?” Feyre asked him and he frowned.

“She is not here?”

“Oh…I don’t know she didn’t come for dinner so I thought she was with you” Feyre furrowed her eyebrows.

Cassian only nodded and left the room, his long strides taking him to your shared room quickly. He opened the door and his frown deepened at the sight.

Your small body was curled between your stuff animals, your gaze lost and your breathing uneven.

“Oh baby again?” Was all he said as he approached you. You nodded and he sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I didn’t want to bother you” you sniffled and he picked you up.

“Don’t you even think of that ever again, you could never bother me babygirl” his voice was soft and he left a kiss on your forehead.

He placed you on the edge of the bathtub and lifted his oversized shirt over your head, you stretched your arms and helped him remove it.

Once you were naked he picked you up and softly placed you into the bathtub, the warm water making you moan. He smirked and hurried off only to return a few minutes later with a tray, you glanced at it and noticed; one plate of your favorite meal, some fresh fruits and your favorite cookies. He steadied the tray on the edge of the bathtub and removed his clothes, slipping in behind you and engulfing you with his strong arms.

“You need to eat” he whispered in your ear leaving a kiss afterwards. You leaned back against him and closed your eyes an indication that you wanted him to feed you. He chuckled and picked up the fork.

After you were done with your food he picked you up again and carried you to the bed, he helped you in one of his shirts and laid on the bed. The sight was hilarious, Cassian was laying on the bed, his arms wide open waiting for you and your stuffed animals around him, he even picked a few that fell off and placed them on his wings to keep them from falling again. You giggled and crawled into bed, sighing when his strong arms wrapped around you.

“You forgot this” he whispered and gave you your favourite teddy bear, he had gotten it for you on your first anniversary.

“Thank you” you mumbled and pressed yourself harder against him.

“Good night sweetheart” he kissed your head and his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

Maybe you didn’t need to go through this alone this time.

Requests are open but delayed!

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cunningweiner · 24 days

Note

Regarding your petition for hcs.. bc I can't sleep, my personal hcs

Randy: After defeating the sorcerer the Nomicon calling him the "Last Ninja" He is the last one in the chain (making reference to the symbol in his shirt)

(A little non sense considering the 9 chapter thingy but ok)

He constantly forgets to covers up bruises and no one thinks anything weird because he has the fame of being kind-of adventurous (and stupid)

He makes up stories when someone asks him about them and recycles them. Sometimes when someone points out they already heard that, he convinces them into thinking they did not (art of manipulation nomicon lesson when)

His notebooks are full of doodles and drawings of lessons the nomicons gives him, and they're messy af

Has scars from fights that didn't end to well

He knows Japanese thanks to the Nomicon

He settled for having only one friend so his social skills are terrible.

Messy guy overall

Howard: Knows facts about everything, but not to the point of being an expert.

Knows how to read people (body language and expressions) ESPECIALLY Randy, he knows every habit of his, he knows him pretty well.

Has lots of "proyects" started none of them finished.

Has a scar on his back from the thengu incident (representing the wings)

He is never alone, let it be with his family or with Randy but he always has someone beside him, that's one of the reasons why he's has issues with being alone (it's weird for him) he feels bad when Randy tells him it's not a big deal (Randy's absent parents hc sorry for this)

Theresa: lots of friend groups but she doesn't feel like she belongs anywhere

Baby bat (interested in goth)

YES TYTYTY sorry for the slow response but okok here we go

I also kind of thought of him as the last ninja (lowkey disregarding secrets of the nine💀) but I got a different ask with some really interesting points so I’m kinda torn lol

Scars-having Randy is soso real to me. Also YES about him forgetting what he said and gaslighting people. That boy has so much brain damage I know it KNFHD

Him keeping a notebook full of the doodle lessons from the nomicon is sooooo good. Also him learning Japanese from it????? 10/10. I hc him as part Japanese but I don’t think he was taught any growing up (true wasian experience tbh) and I think he was really happy to learn

Howard is suchhhh a socialite but nobody ever talks about it??? He makes friends so easily (even if he doesn’t like them) and is super well received in crowd situations. I’ll write up a seperate post about that soon I think lmao. Anyway I love that Randy is the socially awkward one of the two. I think he would never make any other friends if Howard didn’t introduce him lmao

Smart Howard is so dear to me and I think he’s definitely the type of guy to know at least surface level about literally everything. Like that one Dan Vs clip about knowing who carved Mt Rushmore but not what state it’s in

I have a Whole Thing about Tengu Howard that I’ll write up/draw soon and the wing scars are going in immediately. I think I’m just a sucker for those scars specifically I’ll never turn them down on anyone

Yes you’re so correct about his isolation issues being purely from circumstance. I think he has a huuuuge family so he’s never really by himself but Randy is an only child with only child parents so he’s Always alone when he’s not with Howard. Absent Cunningham parent are real to me - would love for them not to be but he gets away with so much shit there’s no way they pay that much attention

I’m not really a big Theresa fan in general (she’s just a little boring imo but I know they would have developed her more if they had the time to :,( )but her being a baby bat is so good. I think Julian shows her his music and they share cassettes (they’re edgy like that). I think also I just want to see the members of the Klub interact more

#wow this is so fucking giant oops #thank you for this beautiful ask #rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja

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unpredictable-probabilities · 1 year

Text

Giveaway

Summary:

Jamil overhears that Azul likes him.

What now?

Word Count: 5,479

Author’s Note: Happy birthday, Azul! ^_^

– –

“Good morning, Jamil,” Azul said with his usual smile as he slid into the seat next to Jamil.

“Hey.” Jamil looked away and maintained his deadpan expression.

Azul greeted him everyday in Alchemy class, and as much as he hated to admit it, Jamil had grown to look forward to it.

There were days when he’d be having a bad morning because of some stressful situation at Scarabia or with Kalim, and Azul’s greeting would calm him down.

It’s like whenever Azul wished him to have a good morning, some part of him would feel compelled to do it.

It’s because of that stupid smile.

For some reason, Azul never smiled like that except on those Alchemy mornings. Brighter and more relaxed, it was different from the usual businessman smile that he usually uses when talking with other people. Maybe he’s always in a good mood in Alchemy because he excels in that class.

“What do you say, Jamil?” Azul asked him.

For a second, Jamil’s mind was blank. What was Azul talking about?

Then he realized that Professor Crewel had just assigned the class a project that they’d have to do by pairs. He really should pay more attention in class.

He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to recall the instructions that their professor just said. They were supposed to brew a type of magical ink and make a simple moving drawing from it.

“Would you like to be partners?” Azul continued. “I’m familiar with magical ink since I use some form of it for my contracts. In fact, I have a pen in my pencil case right now with that ink.”

“The ink can move?” Jamil asked in mild surprise. That was advanced magic even for him.

“Indeed it can. But I’ve never needed permanently moving ink, so the best I have is ink that moves for only a few seconds upon drawing. Watch.”

Azul took out a pen and made a quick doodle on the corner of Jamil’s notebook; it was a simple drawing of a parrot, barely bigger than Jamil’s thumb.

It spread its wings and glided around the margins before settling down at the top of the page, perched above today’s date scrawled in Jamil’s handwriting. Like it had always been there.

And it always will be. Azul had just given him a parrot.

He shut his notebook and moved it aside, willing himself to focus on their project.

“Sure, we can pair up again.” They always paired up in Alchemy, sometimes they didn’t even need to ask, they’d just instinctively work together.

“Excellent,” Azul smiled and turned his attention back to Professor Crewel.

***

“Sea Snake!” Floyd approached him as they all stood out in the field waiting for Flight class to start. “Can I borrow your textbook for Magical History? I left mine in my bedroom and I gotta run to Magical History right after this.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow, it wasn’t the first time that Floyd had asked to borrow one of his textbooks, but everyone knew how strict Professor Trein was these days because of the upcoming exams.

Especially for Floyd who has had multiple instances of forgetting things for class, Jamil would have thought that he’d be more careful. Though it wasn’t really surprising that Floyd wouldn’t be afraid of a little extra scolding.

“I need it for my homework tonight,” Jamil answered. “Why don’t you ask Jade or Azul to lend you their textbook?”

“They left theirs at Octavinelle too because they don't need it today, but I saw yours in your bag just now when you put your hoodie in there! Can I borrow it, pleeeeeeeaaase?” Floyd asked hopefully, putting his hands together in front of him. “I’ll return it to you when classes end so you can still do your homework."

It's so surreal seeing Floyd's vastly differing personalities sometimes. Jamil knew how terrifying he could be, but there were times like these when he's almost like a little kid.

"Can I borrow it, can I borrow it?" Floyd stared at him with what he could only describe as puppy eyes.

Jamil sighed. If he didn’t lend Floyd his textbook, the tall eel would probably bully another student to get theirs. Then it would be a big mess if he tried to squeeze them.

“Fine,” Jamil relented to maintain the peace in their class.

“Yay! You’re the best snakey around!” Floyd hugged him tightly with one arm and ruffled his hair with his other hand.

“Alright, alright,” Jamil cringed and pushed Floyd away with his textbook.

A shrill whistle signaled the start of class, and they all hurried to the center of the field with their brooms.

“Listen up,” Coach Vargas began. “We’ll be practicing turns today, so I want you all to fly five laps circling the field. I’ll be grading you based on your speed, altitude, balance, and how well you swerve your brooms. Those who get a grade lower than B would stay for an extra 20 minutes of practice.”

Groans and murmurs sounded among the students. It was a cloudless day and the sun was glaring down on them; no one was happy about the idea of an extra 20 minutes.

Coach Vargas waited for the chatter to die down, then he started the time and blew the whistle.

Brooms flew into the air at varying heights and speed. Jamil looked down, and sure enough, Azul was struggling to get his broom off the ground.

Jamil sighed and decided on how he would perform his flying.

After the timer ended, Coach Vargas blew the whistle again and told them all to come down.

There were a few grunts as some of them landed roughly on the ground, including Jade and Azul.

Coach Vargas looked at his list and announced the names of those who would stay for the extra 20 minutes.

“Viper, what happened to you today?” Coach Vargas asked after he read Jamil’s name on the list.

“Sorry, Coach. I wasn’t very focused.” Jamil replied.

“Don’t be complacent just because you usually do well in this class,” Coach Vargas reminded him. “You need to keep both your mind and your muscles strong!”

Coach dismissed the rest of them, and a handful of the class remained.

“Viper, help Ashengrotto with his flying again,” Coach told him, just as he expected. “Maybe teaching someone will help you remember the techniques.”

“Yes sir,” he replied and walked over to Azul who didn’t look happy about it.

“What do you want as payment?” Azul asked immediately, not wanting to be taught for free but also knowing that they couldn’t refuse an order from Coach Vargas.

“Just lend me your History notes again,” Jamil said.

Azul raised an eyebrow. “That’s also what you asked for last time. Do you even need those notes? I don’t seem to remember you struggling with History at all.”

“Does it matter?” Jamil asked impatiently.

“Of course it does,” Azul’s frown deepened. “It’s not really a favor if it’s useless to you.”

Jamil rolled his eyes. There really was no convincing Azul of letting him help without thinking of favors.

“Fine,” Jamil said. “Tell Floyd to always remember to bring his textbooks so he doesn’t keep borrowing mine.”

“Hm, I’m not sure if reminders would do much good since it’s Floyd we’re talking about," Azul furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. "But I shall do my best."

After several minutes, Azul managed to lift himself from the ground relatively smoothly. Jamil hovered nearby to explain the correct posture, but Azul was so nervous that he didn't seem to understand him.

At his fourth turn, it was too abrupt and he slipped off his broom, hurtling to the ground headfirst from 12 feet in the air.

Jamil's eyes widened and he maneuvered his broom into a nosedive, summoning a cushion of wind with his Magic Pen just in time to catch Azul a few inches from the ground.

"Nice catch, Viper!" Coach Vargas grinned from where he was standing several feet away.

Jamil's face burned at the stares he got. He appreciated the praise but did Coach really have to announce it to the entire class?

He got rid of the wind and Azul fell to the ground with a grunt.

Jamil smoothly got down from his broom and sighed. "Can you even hear my instructions up there?"

"Hearing and executing are two very different things," Azul clumsily stood up and straightened his glasses. "And if you’re so knowledgeable, what was with your performance earlier? You were dreadful. I've never seen you fly that badly before."

"I was just tired," Jamil lied. "And being held back for this 20 minutes thing turned out to be helpful anyway."

Azul narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but the whistle sounded before he could ask any more questions, to Jamil's relief.

"Okay, that’s 20 minutes!” Coach Vargas announced. “Rest your muscles for now, and next week we’ll be doing this again until all of you can turn smoothly!”

The class was dismissed, and Jamil made his way to the Hall of Mirrors, mentally reviewing what time he’d be helping Kalim with his homework and when he’d do his own studying. Hopefully Floyd would return his textbook as soon as possible.

***

Jamil pushed open the doors of Mostro Lounge, looking around for that Leech that didn’t return his textbook. Again. It had been more than two hours since classes had ended, but there wasn’t even a text from Floyd about when he’d return it. He wasn’t answering Jamil’s calls either. Luckily he had mentioned that morning that he had a shift at Mostro Lounge after classes, so Jamil knew that he’d be here. Unless he didn’t show up to work.

Jamil asked a waiter that passed by, and he was told that Floyd was most likely in Azul’s office with Jade, since they usually had their budget meetings around this time. Jamil wondered if he should just wait for their meeting to be over; Azul might not appreciate being interrupted.

But he had told Azul in Flight class that Floyd borrowed his textbook anyway, and Floyd might be more motivated to return it immediately if he asked for it while Azul was in the room.

He made his way to Azul’s office, and he was about to knock when he heard what sounded like muffled shouting from the other side of the door. Maybe he should just wait for their meeting to be over. If those three were in the middle of arguing, he didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

Then he heard Floyd’s voice, raised loudly enough for him to understand the words, “Just tell ‘im you like him!”

Jamil raised an eyebrow. Was Floyd talking to Jade or Azul?

It shouldn’t matter, but if he left now without at least knowing the answer to that one, he knew he’d be wondering about it for the rest of the day.

Against his better judgment, he looked behind him to make sure that the corridor was empty, and pressed his ear against the door.

“Why are we talking about this now?” Azul’s exasperated voice said. “These are work hours, and I would like the both of you to focus.”

Jamil’s stomach dropped. So Floyd was talking to Azul. But who could he be referring to? Jamil’s mind started running through a mental list of who Azul might have feelings for.

Riddle? He and Azul were on the same wavelength when it came to talking about academics. Though Riddle seemed to be dating Trey.

Could it be Idia somehow? They were pretty close, they’re even in the same club and probably spend a lot of time together.

“You took Jade’s advice this morning!” Floyd complained, ignoring Azul’s remark about their work hours. “Why don’tcha take my advice this time?”

“Oh, he took my advice?” Jade’s voice sounded surprised.

“Yeah, I saw Azul give him that gift, like you told him to,” Floyd answered.

Jamil frowned. Azul Ashengrotto, who was always a stickler for evening out favors, just gave a gift–a free and definitely not paid thing–to that person he liked? Who the hell was that guy?

“What was it?” Jade asked curiously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Azul sounded tired, like he had given up on trying to get the twins to leave him alone on the subject. “He didn’t like it anyway.”

Azul’s gift was rejected. Jamil wondered what it could have been; surely a gift from someone like Azul would be expensive or fancy. Maybe the guy was one of their richer classmates, someone who could afford to turn their nose up at such a gift.

Of course Azul would be attracted to someone rich.

Jamil cursed himself; he shouldn’t have listened in the first place. This was none of his business, and all he achieved was make himself angry. At himself for being nosy, at the guy for not liking the gift, at Floyd for that stupid textbook. He had decided to just borrow someone else’s textbook so he could leave the Lounge, but once again Floyd’s voice caught his attention.

“It was a parrot,” Floyd said.

Jamil froze in place, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“A parrot?” Jade sounded confused.

“A drawing of one,” Azul clarified, and Jamil suddenly felt his heart beating in his chest. “I wasn’t going to give him an actual parrot, what excuse could I possibly have for that?”

Jamil was feeling lightheaded. Did Azul give a parrot drawing to someone else that day or…

“A real parrot would’ve been much cooler,” Floyd pointed out. “You came up with an excuse for the drawing.”

“Which was much easier since I had read ahead on the syllabus and knew which task Professor Crewel would assign us next,” Azul countered. “Coming up with an excuse for a feathery talking animal in the classroom would have been an entirely different thing.”

“What’s your excuse for not just telling him you like him, huh?” Floyd’s voice suddenly rose again.

“Unhand me!” With the way Azul’s voice wobbled, it seemed like Floyd was shaking him by the shoulders or something to that effect.

“It looks like this budget meeting has reached its conclusion,” Jade said in amusement. “We can continue it next week. Floyd and I will be returning to the kitchen now.”

“Yes, get out,” Azul said irritably.

Too late, Jamil realized what was about to happen. He took a step back and prepared to run, but the door swung open and he was face to face with Jade.

“Jamil,” Jade’s eyebrows were lifted in surprise.

“Sea Snake!” Floyd was grinning behind Jade. “We were just talkin’ about you!”

Jamil looked over Floyd’s shoulder and saw that Azul was staring at him in horrified realization, his face drained of all color.

Azul raised his Magic Pen and an invisible force pulled the twins back inside and the door slammed shut.

Jamil stared at it for a second, then turned back down the corridor, trying not to walk too fast so as not to attract attention as he made his way back to the Hall of Mirrors and into his dorm room, where he shut the door and leaned against it.

He took a few breaths to calm himself, and a single chuckle of disbelief escaped his throat.

Azul… Azul liked him.

Azul liked him back.

Yeah, there was no use denying his own feelings now. Not when he could barely suppress the smile forming on his face after everything he just heard.

In his mind, he could vividly see that parrot soaring gracefully around the page of his notebook.

***

Jamil kept fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie on the way to Alchemy the next day. He’d had Defensive Magic and Music with Azul already, but they didn’t normally interact in those classes, so he couldn’t tell whether Azul was avoiding him or not.

He didn’t have any other classes with Jade and Floyd today, and Alchemy would be the first class where he’d see all three of them. He had no idea how any of them felt about him overhearing their conversation yesterday, and he wasn’t sure how to act around them.

“Sea Snake!” Floyd arrived at the classroom door the same time he did. “Here ya go.”

Floyd took out the textbook from his bag and handed it to him, not even mentioning the fact that he was supposed to have returned it yesterday.

“So what do you think?” Floyd asked.

“About what?” Jamil furrowed his eyebrows, putting the textbook in his backpack.

“About Azul liking you.” Floyd spoke with a straight face, as if he was just asking what Jamil thought about the cafeteria’s menu.

“Um…” Jamil felt his face heating up. He definitely didn’t expect to be questioned like that.

“Hey, you’re blushing!” Floyd grinned. “That’s good, right?”

“Floyd,” Jade walked from down the hall and approached them, smiling politely. “Remember what Azul said about not talking to Jamil about it?”

“But that’s boring! I wanna know what Sea Snake thinks!”

“Why doesn’t Azul want you to talk about it?” Jamil frowned.

He had half-expected the twins to threaten him in some way and make sure that he didn’t tell anyone else what he had overheard; not talking about it at all didn’t seem like their usual style.

“He didn’t want you to think that we were threatening you to feel the same way about him. It’s rare to see Azul offer much consideration for the feelings of others, so I would like to oblige him this time,” Jade smiled. “Anyway, class is about to start. We best go in before we anger Professor Crewel with our tardiness.”

Jamil just stared as Jade led a pouting Floyd into the classroom. That entire conversation with the twins felt like a rollercoaster, and Jamil felt even more nervous to face Azul. Though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

He took a breath to calm himself and entered the room. Azul was already in his seat, reading from a textbook while jotting down notes.

“Puppies, settle down.” Professor Crewel arrived just as Jamil sat down next to Azul. “You will only have three days to brew the potion. There is room for mistakes today since it’s only the first day, but I strongly advise you to keep the errors to a minimum. It’s a challenging potion and three days is not as much time as you think.”

After some safety reminders on how to handle the cauldron and ingredients, Professor Crewel instructed them to begin.

“I’ve done some research on the potion,” Azul said next to him. “It is often the base for paints used in moving portraits. Fortunately, we don’t have to make anything as complicated, though the information I gathered would help significantly in figuring out how to make the ink stable and relatively waterproof.”

Pretend like nothing happened. That was Azul’s plan. Fine, he could go with that.

What was he expecting, anyway? That Azul would ask him out?

A feeling that was dangerously close to disappointment rose up in his chest, and he shoved it down and turned his attention to their project.

“Yeah,” Jamil took out his own notes. “I did some reading myself, and I think we can finish stage 1 of the brewing today. I just haven’t figured out yet how to make sure that the final product wouldn’t be flammable, since a lot of the ingredients we’d be using can spark a fire.”

“Perhaps we can research more about that in the library later after class, and hopefully we find the information we need to stabilize the potion by stage 2,” Azul said.

So Azul wasn’t avoiding him; he had no problem researching in the library with him like they often did for their Alchemy projects. But something still seemed a bit off with Azul, like he wasn’t comfortable.

Jamil tried to figure out what it was as they poured and stirred their potion in the cauldron, and it wasn’t until they successfully finished stage 1 that he realized what was different.

Azul never smiled.

Azul didn’t greet him, he didn’t even give any remarks about how well they work together, or how clever he was. There was no relaxed smile, no buttering up Jamil about how they should always be a team, no smug self-compliments. Not even the polite businessman smile he often wore. It was bothering Jamil, but he didn’t think there was anything he could do about it.

They had settled into a quiet corner of the library and were in the middle of their research when Azul asked a question about yesterday’s lesson. Jamil couldn’t remember the answer, so he flipped the pages of his notebook to see his notes from yesterday.

They saw the parrot at the same time. Still perched on top of the page.

Azul averted his eyes, and he seemed to instinctively lean away from Jamil.

“Hey,” Jamil began. He wanted to say that he didn’t mind at all what he overheard, and that they could just keep pretending that he never heard it. “About yesterday…”

He couldn’t get the words out, hesitation blocking his throat.

Was that really what he wanted? For them to pretend like nothing happened?

Azul tensed up and his face darkened. When he spoke, his tone was evenly measured. “If you’re considering that information as blackmail material, I regret to inform you that most everyone in our class already knows about it, as well as a few upperclassmen, if Floyd is to be believed.”

“Blackmail?” Jamil was surprised at the accusation. “Wait, what do you mean everyone knows?”

“We’re here because I almost got beheaded by our Prefect today, okay?” Ace’s voice interrupted them as he walked past with the other Heartslabyul freshmen. “He wasn’t happy that I failed a quiz, so now we all gotta study if we don’t want to put him in an even worse mood.”

They took seats at the table on the other side of the bookshelf nearby, obscuring them from Jamil’s view.

“He was in a bad mood because of that Octavinelle. Floyd." One of the freshmen said. “No matter how good our grades are, if Floyd always shows up to annoy our Prefect, he’d still be in a bad mood.”

“Do you think Floyd has a crush on him?” a different voice asked. “He’s always looking for Prefect Riddle’s attention. Maybe it’s just an Octavinelle curse, to fall for someone who absolutely can’t stand them,” he said with a mean laugh. “Like their Prefect Azul with Scarabia’s Vice Prefect, right? What’s his name? Viper something?”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the group, with Ace’s voice trying to quiet them down.

“Ah, it seems like the freshmen are aware of it as well.” A flash of hurt flickered across Azul’s face, but he quickly covered it up with a stoic mask.

Jamil tried to say something–anything–but his mouth felt like it was filled with sand.

“We’ll continue the research tomorrow,” Azul’s voice was colder than Jamil had ever heard from him. “We have enough to finish stage 2.”

Azul quickly gathered his things and walked away to the exit.

“I said stop that!” Ace’s voice said sharply, followed by what sounded like a book hitting something hard.

“Ow!” cried the freshman who asked if Floyd had a crush on Riddle. “That’s my head, man!”

“You don’t know them at all,” Ace continued. “And your pea-sized brain doesn’t hold a candle to the minds of those people you’re laughing at. So shut your mouth before I smack it with the book next.”

“Oh yeah?” The freshman’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. “You wanna go, tough guy? Deuce isn’t here to protect you!”

Another chair scraped the floor. “You don’t scare me, ass-face!”

“That’s enough,” Jamil had walked up to their table and raised his voice to be heard above the yelling.

They all fell quiet, and some were staring at him in surprised recognition. Ace’s gaze flickered between Jamil and the other freshman, like he was wondering how much Jamil had heard.

“This is a library, take your noisy fistfights outside.” Jamil glowered.

He looked at the freshman and walked closer, taking satisfaction in how he backed away in fear.

“The name’s Jamil Viper,” he stopped right in front of him. “And just so your pea-sized brain knows, I actually like Azul.”

Ace’s jaw dropped, but Jamil ignored it and went back to his table, hurriedly packing up his things and leaving.

***

“Jamil,” Jade said in surprise when Jamil almost bumped into him on his way to the Hall of Mirrors.

“Sorry,” Jamil said distractedly. He had just told a random group of freshmen that he liked Azul, something that he had never even said out loud before. And now he had just tossed it out there.

“Is everything alright? You look almost as bad as Azul did earlier when he informed me that he was going to take the day off from the Lounge.”

That snapped Jamil to his senses. With the way Jade was smiling at him knowingly, he had deliberately brought up that Azul was upset, probably to see how he would react.

Jamil just hoped that Jade wasn’t expecting him to make Azul feel better, because he definitely had no idea how to do that.

Regardless, he heard himself asking, “Where is he?”

“He usually goes to the Music room whenever he wants to be alone, perhaps you can find him there,” Jade suggested.

“Thanks,” Jamil nodded and turned back to go to the classrooms.

***

He found Azul exactly where Jade said he would be, playing a soft melody on the piano.

It was beautiful. Jamil had never heard him play before, and he was disappointed when Azul stopped to look at him.

“What are you doing here?” Azul asked.

“I was looking for you.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Someone told me,” Jamil said vaguely.

“Jade.” Azul narrowed his eyes, and Jamil could already see him scolding Jade about it later. “What do you want?”

“Ace defended you,” Jamil replied, saying the only thing he could think of that might make Azul feel better. “And Floyd and Riddle. He hit that other guy in the head with a book. They almost had a fistfight right there in the library.”

Azul frowned and closed the lid of the piano. “Why are you telling me this?”

Jamil shifted on his feet. “I dunno, you looked pretty upset earlier and I thought… you should at least know that.”

Azul returned his gaze cautiously. “Did Ace get hurt?”

Jamil was surprised to hear the concern in Azul’s voice. “No, I stopped them before they could really fight.”

Azul nodded. “It’s a good thing that you were there, then. Ace has spirit but it does get him in trouble sometimes.”

“I didn’t just do it for him,” Jamil heard himself say. “I… I didn’t like what that guy said.”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “About what? Me? Since when did you care?”

Jamil bristled at that, and he blurted out the first example that came to mind. “I stayed behind in Flight class on purpose.”

Azul frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Yesterday. You looked like you needed help, and none of our classmates are good at teaching. I performed badly on purpose, I knew Coach Vargas would tell me to help you if I was one of the those who had to stay behind.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” Azul looked angry for some reason. “Just last week you had denied that we’re even friends.”

Jamil pursed his lips. He remembered that. Azul had been praising his knowledge about how to brew potions efficiently without wasting any ingredients.

“With our minds combined, we could really be a great team, you know? Perhaps in time we could even be the best of friends.”

“We’re not even regular friends right now, shut up.”

Azul had been leaning towards him then, with that smile that curved his lips in such a way that Jamil couldn’t help staring at them. He had panicked and lashed out with that remark defensively.

He sighed in frustration and ran a hand on his face. “Yeah, well, if I had known that– That you…”

What? If he had known that Azul liked him back, would he have acted any differently?

Hurt appeared in Azul’s eyes, and Jamil hated himself for having caused it.

“If you had known that I like you, what then?” Azul demanded. “Would you have accepted the friendship with the knowledge that you could ask me for favors and I wouldn’t mind? Or would you have pushed me away even more?” he shook his head. “There’s no point in discussing this. Leave me alone with what little remains of my pride. We’ll work on our Alchemy project tomorrow.”

Azul’s insistence on not talking about it made Jamil snap.

He reached the piano with quick strides and slammed his hands down on it, leaning forward to get in Azul’s face.

“Listen to me, you stubborn octopus! I like you, okay?”

Azul’s mouth dropped open in surprise and a hint of red colored his face, but he suddenly stood up and took a step back.

“What game is this?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s not a game! What–” Jamil sputtered and huffed. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth!” Azul yelled back at him. “If you’re gonna take advantage of my feelings–”

Jamil stepped forward and grabbed Azul’s collar. “I like you! As in I wanna make out with your face! But I never said because I thought you only saw me as someone you can use for your own benefit or business or whatever. I never knew you liked me too!”

Azul stared at him wide-eyed, and his face had turned a brighter shade of red. “You… You like me?” he said quietly.

Jamil felt the adrenaline leaving him; he let go of Azul and sighed. “Yes, Azul. I do. I’d just been such an idiot about it.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and then Azul spoke gently.

“You’re not an idiot, Jamil. Do you really think I’d like someone who’s anything less than stunningly clever?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, feeling his face warm.

Azul’s gaze went lower, and Jamil’s heart fluttered wildly in his chest when he realized that Azul was looking at his lips.

Azul met his eyes again and smiled playfully. “Do you still want to make out with my face?”

Jamil glared at him, then grabbed his collar again and pulled him in, pressing their lips together.

Jamil had his eyes closed, but he felt Azul tense up in surprise. For half a second he was terrified that he made the wrong move, but then Azul’s arms wrapped around his waist, and Jamil felt him kissing back.

They were awkward at first, shy and nervous and utterly overwhelmed. Then they found their rhythm, and Jamil’s arms went around Azul’s neck, pulling him closer.

Azul’s lips were impossibly soft, and his kisses were even sweeter than his smiles.

When Jamil felt Azul’s tongue brush against his, a sigh escaped him and he leaned even more into Azul’s warmth.

His hands found Azul’s hair, and he knew he would never forget how it felt threaded between his fingers.

Time ceased to exist as they kissed and sighed and relished the feeling of being in each other’s embrace.

When they finally pulled away, they were both panting, their breaths mixing together from their lips that were only mere inches apart.

“Jamil…?” Azul whispered softly.

“Yeah?” Jamil responded, still a little lightheaded in the best way possible.

“Would you… like to go out with me? Date exclusively, I mean…” Azul looked at him with hope and hesitation.

Jamil chuckled, feeling all warm inside. “Of course I wanna go out with you. I practically announced it already to those freshmen earlier.”

Azul’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah, that guy got on my nerves because of what he said so I told him that I like you. He deserved to be proven wrong like that.”

Azul looked surprised, then he laughed softly and touched his forehead to Jamil’s for a moment. “You do realize they’re going to be telling people?”

Jamil wrapped his arms around Azul’s neck even tighter. “Let people know, it might prevent anyone else from hitting on you.”

“Oh? Already declaring your claim to me, are you?” The corner of Azul’s lips turned up. “I never realized you’re territorial, Viper.”

“How about this, I’ll call you my boyfriend and you can call me yours. How does that sound?” Jamil smiled.

Azul returned the smile and his eyes lit up in the way that Jamil always loved to see. “It’s a deal.”

Then Azul leaned forward, sealing the deal with a kiss.

– –

Author’s Note:

I wrote this in 5 days so it might not be very well-polished, but I wanted to write a short fun thing for Azul’s birthday and I’m happy with how it turned out~

Thank you for reading!

(Masterlist)

(Ko-fi)

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celestiall0tus · 5 months

Text

Amaranthine - Chapter 3 - Welcome Home

Beginning || Previous || Next

“Welcome home!” Freye, Diana, and Rose cheered.

Luka stopped at the bottom of the steps in Liberty’s hold. He flashed a smile at them while Freye and Diana tackled him in a hug.

“Well, isn’t this quite the welcome. How’ve you girls been?”

“It’s been boring without you, Uncle Luka!” Diana complained.

“Forget that. We’re going to have a new sibling!” Freye announced.

“I heard. I bet you two are excited,” Luka commented.

Freye nodded while Diana rolled her eyes.

Luka chuckled and approached Rose. “How’re you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’d be more worried about Juleka,” Rose teased.

Luka’s eyes widened. “Juleka? Is everything alright? She’s not hurt, is she?”

“Oh, no! She’s just been fussing over me a lot. It’s sweet, but she’s running herself a little ragged.”

“I’d say I’m surprised, but she’s always just been that way.”

“I know, I just-.”

The houseboat jerked and sent everyone flying. Luka lunged to catch Rose while Freye and Diana kept the other up.

“What was that?” Luka asked.

“It has to be a monster attack,” Rose whispered.

“Monster? From the Adonis villian? You mean the ‘heroes’ still haven’t ended his terror?”

“Well, no, but-,” Rose started.

Luka ran out onto the deck. He looked out on the scene of Carmine and Midnight attempting to wrangle a monster from the Seine. He opened his mouth but paused when he saw a woman shoot out of the water.

Luka’s breath caught when he saw the woman. She was outfitted in golden armor complete with a dragon style mask that obscured her face. Long, raven hair flowed freely behind her as she soared through the sky with magnificent dragon wings. He couldn’t take his eyes off the spectacular dragon warrior above him. His heart skipped a beat and his breath had been stolen away. An irresistible lure longed to draw him to her, but he gawked at the dragon.

Luka watched as she generated a sphere of water for the beast and raised it out of the Seine. It fought to be free of the orb until she stepped on the water’s surface and turned it to ice. She flew under the orb as it completely froze, lifted it on her back like Atlas and the world, and carried it over to the street.

Luka watched in breathless awe as the dragon melted the ice with her fire when Midnight and Carmine joined her. Together, they destroyed the black crystal on the monster’s chest and purified the butterfly creature that had infected it. Carmine and Midnight pounded fists while the dragon turned to take off.

Luka’s breath caught and his feet moved on their own. He wanted to catch her before she was gone. He wanted to meet with her, unsure he’d get another chance. He ran forward, but the dragon was long gone before he could do anything. He silently cursed, then turned to Carmine and Midnight.

“Hey, you two. I have question for you!” Luka called out.

Carmine ignored him while Midnight jumped down.

“Yes, good citizen?” Midnight said with a purr.

“Who was that woman with you two? The dragon.”

“Oh! Uh, we don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well, she doesn’t exactly stay for conversation. She kinda just, y’know, comes in when needed and then leaves. So, if you’re looking to find out more, you’ll have to get in line with the rest of the city.”

Luka huffed and turned in the direction the dragon went.

“Hey, also, a little side question. Are you Luka Couffaine?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I am.”

Midnight squealed and jumped in front of Luka’s view. “I can’t believe it! It’s really you! I love all your stuff. I’ve followed you since you first started your tours with that washed up has been, Jagged Stone.”

Luka cracked a smile and laughed. “Careful not to let my dad hear you say that. He doesn’t like when people call him washed up or a has been.”

Midnight’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize he was your father. I didn’t-!”

“It’s ok. I’m just teasing a bit. He may not like it, but I don’t hold much love for the man.”

“Regardless, I’m so sorry. I should have been more considerate. Please, accept my humblest apologizes.”

Midnight bowed to Luka. He gave a weak smile when Carmine’s whistle got their attention.

“As much as I hate to interrupt your two’s loving, awkward moment, we need to get back to patrolling, Midnight.”

Midnight huffed and jumped onto the pathway’s railing. “C’mon, Carmine. We just beat the monster. Why don’t we relax?”

“Because Adonis is getting desperate and we can’t afford any more casualties. We may have the dragon and she’s been pretty reliable, but we still need to pull our own weight.”

Luka stepped forward at the mention of the dragon. “Excuse me. What can you tell me about that dragon woman?”

Carmine scoffed. “What rock have you been living under?”

“Carm, it’s Luka Couffaine. He’s been on tour with Jagged Stone since the start of all of this,” Midnight interjected.

Carmine groaned. “Fine. We only know this dragon girl showed up roughly six months ago. She’s been beneficial in stopping the monsters, but her priority seems to be the people. Because of her, we’ve seen less casualties, freeing up that concern so Midnight and I may focus on the beasts Adonis sends out. It’s for this reason she’s known as the people’s savior, the golden knight, nature’s champion, and the dragon warrior. If you want more than that, you are fresh out of luck.”

“That can’t be all. There’s gotta be-,” Luka started.

Carmine raised her hand, silencing Luka. “I understand you share a fascination with this woman as the entirety of the public does, but that is all we know. Perhaps you can join the leagues of reporters and obsessed individuals that stalk the dragon to uncover her truths. Until another time, citizen. Midnight, let’s go.”

Carmine swung off with her yo-yo. Midnight waved goodbye before she catapulted herself up with her staff. Luka grumbled under his breath as he headed back below deck only to run into Rose who waited for him.

“Magnificent, isn’t she?” Rose asked.

“She was absolutely breathtaking. Is it true? No one knows anything about her?”

“Unfortunately, yes. She shows up to save the people, never uttering a single word. She does her job, saving as many as she can, assist the heroes, and then leaves.”

Luka’s shoulders dropped. Disappointment consumed him as the draw didn’t ease up. He needed to find her. He couldn’t explain it, but it was of the utmost importance that he meet her.

“What’s bothering you? Why the extreme fascination?” Rose asked.

“I… don’t know. I just saw her and immediately felt this draw to her. And now I just want to meet her. Hell, I’d settle for seeing her.”

Rose’s eyes widened as she stared at Luka. He raised a brow as a big grin slowly formed on her face and her eyes lit up.

“Are you ok?”

“Luka, I think you met your soulmate.”

“What? No. There’s no such thing.”

Rose laughed. “Oh, Luka, of course there is. Why else would you feel this draw? It was the same thing for me and Juleka. The moment we locked eyes, we knew that our souls were connected. And with time, that grew into a romance.”

“Wait, if you two are soulmates, wouldn’t you have immediately have fallen in love? Isn’t that how this whole soulmate thing works?”

“Nope. I’ve seen soulmates that are best friends with nothing romantic between them. It really just depends, and it sounds like you’ve finally met yours.”

“Right. Agree to disagree.”

“I’m going to ignore that. Anyway, you should speak with Alya. I know she’s been searching for answers about our mysterious hero. See if she’s learned anything and what not. Maybe she could be what you need to see the dragon again. Oh! We can have her over. I’ll see if she’s available.”

“Maybe… maybe the sooner the better?”

Rose smirked. “Well, of course. There’s no way I’m passing up the chance to have you meet your soulmate now, can I?”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just, talk to her.”

“I will. Will you keep an eye on the girls for me while I make the call?”

Luka nodded and headed into the hold. Rose headed up onto the deck on the opposite end of the boat. She pulled out her phone and dialed Alya. It rang three times before Alya picked up.

“Hey, girl, what’s up?”

“Luka’s going to need your expertise.”

“Oh? What can I help the illustrious Luka Couffaine with?”

Rose smiled. “Nimue.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #au #miraculous au #alternate universe #mlb fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #soulmate au #luka couffaine #mlb luka #luka miraculous #carmine #midnight #miraculous rose #rose lavillant #mlb rose

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wishitweresummer · 1 year

Text

Three Fools in April (Sapnap x Quackity x KarlJacobs)

Word count: 1129

Happy April Fools Day everybody!!! This is mostly just karlnapity fluff with a lot of tickling sprinkled in!!! (Don’t forget, my canon keeps them in a sweet spot where everything is perfect.)

His fiancés had been so sweet to him that morning. Karl peppering his face with sweet kisses while he tied his special April Fools Day tie for him; purple and covered with little ducks who adorned jester hats. Sapnap massaging his shoulders from behind and smoothing down his shirt.

“You look great baby.”.

“Have an amazing day ducky.”.

Even after all this time they could still fill his tummy with butterflies. His whole walk to work he thought about how he would get to come home to them tonight. The warmest cuddles with his blaze-hybrid Sapnap. The sweetest kisses with his melty Karl. There was a floaty pep to his gait as he walked into what would turn out to be…a pretty strange day at the casino.

~•~

The first time it happened was when he was looking over one of the machines. Firm hands squeezed his waist out of nowhere and forced him to yelp embarrassingly loud, drawing eyes from all over. He spun around to find Schlatt.

“Wha…?”, he faltered as the other man only laughed as he strolled away. Quackity quickly shrunk away from prying eyes and made his own escape.

~•~

A large arm was thrown around his shoulders as they spoke business. Strolling down the hallway with Sam as they headed towards their meeting. Business as usual really…until Sam jabbed a knuckle into Quackity’s ribcage and earned a loud squawk. He squirmed out of the hold and rubbed his rib cage as Sam laughed. The other kept strolling towards the meeting and Quackity fumbled and followed along. He willed his cheeks to calm before they reached this meeting. Suddenly, he couldn’t even remember who was going to be there and what it was about.

~•~

Quackity had almost forgotten about the strange tickle-mood everyone seemed to be in while he leaned slightly across the counter and spoke to his cashiers through their protective glass. Until fingers scribbled up his wings. He gripped the counter and squealed. The hands left his wings and he heard laughter behind him. He turned back to see Fundy walking off. He faced his cashiers again with a sheepish look.

‘What is going on today?’, he thought.

~•~

The whole day was like that. Around every corner another one of his staff and friends tickled him for no reason. He found himself growing jumpier and jumpier. You think he would get used to it and expect it, but he only found himself on edge and more likely to overreact to the sudden tickles.

~•~

Somehow, he survived the day. He stretched his wings out and back in again as he walked home. The home he shared with his fiancés came into view and he felt the relief wash over him.

It wasn’t like he had had a bad day. Quite the opposite really. A flustering one, but not bad. His casino was thriving and he loved his staff. So they loved him back and wanted to see him giggle and laugh? Flustering…but not bad. More than anything he just missed the loves of his life. He thought back to how sweet they had been that morning as he tugged open the door.

“I’m home!!”, he called out. Maybe they would still be sweet tonight. He was excited to get either of them in his arms.

“Duckys home!! Just in time for dinner.”, Sapnap yanked him in by his arm and kissed him excitedly, pressing the door closed loudly behind him. The sound made Quackity jolt. “Jumpy today?”, Sapnap asked curiously.

“Actually, yeah a little. But, I’m good now! What’s for dinner?”. He cheesed as Karl entered the kitchen as well.

“Babyyy”, the other coo’ed as he saw him.

~•~

When they ate a meal together they traded off who sat on their side alone. Quackity never minded his turns. He absentmindedly kicked and played with whoever’s feet got close enough as they spoke about their days.

“Mine was a bit strange, actually. People kept like, I don’t know…like tickling me?”. Karl choked on his food right away, quickly recovering but breaking into giggles. Sapnap smacked him.

“Shut up.”, he hissed. Karl looked away and swallowed his sounds. His face burned bright with the effort. Sapnap stared at him wide-mouthed. “Karl.”, he warned quietly. Karl covered his mouth and muffled his squeaky giggles. Quackity stayed silent as he watched the scene play out. Soon, Sapnap broke as well. The two in front of him laughing now. It only grew more uncontrollable as they watched Quackity’s face go from confusion to suspicion to incredulity.

“What did you two do?”.

“We’re sorry!!!”.

“I literaly forgot until just now!”, Karl snorted, shoving Sapnap as he laughed. Quackity stood up and pushed his chair back, staring across at the two.

“What did you do!”. The two collected themselves as best they could. Soft breathes caught between giggles.

“Okay okay…is it still on your back?”, Sapnap finally spoke.

“Is what on my back?”.

“The sign.”. Karl bit his lip, clearly on the verge of breaking again.

Quackity reached behind him and felt his back above his wings. Paper crinkled under his hand and he grabbed it and pulled it free.

A paper with the words ‘Tickle me!’ on it.

Quackity gaped at it. This is why he had lost count of how many times today he had been grabbed. Or fingers had come scribbling. Or pinching. His mind flashed back to Sapnap’s hands soothing his shoulders and down his back that morning.

“April Fools!!!”, Sapnap exclaimed.

“Yeahhh!! Happy April Fools Day!!!”, Karl cheered as well.

“You’re both dead.”. That sent them scrambling.

Karl squeaked as he jumped from the chair and ducked under Quackity’s arms. He tore out of the room as Sapnap shoved his chair in Quackity’s way and stumbled through his own escape.

Stood in the kitchen alone, he couldn’t help but laugh. Somewhere in the house he could hear his fiancés tripping over each other and giggling frantically. They both knew Quackity was the most ruthless out of all of them and he suspected it was only a matter of time before one turned on the other. His predictions came true only seconds after the thought when he heard Karl’s shriek tear through through the house. He laughed as he jogged out of the kitchen and towards the sounds.

Revenge would be coming down on both of them, despite Sapnap’s betrayal. As Quackity bounded up the stairs he was already planning ways he would pin them each down and make them scream apologies for the day he had.

~•~

So ridiculous, always. It was April Fools Day, but it was a day like any other really. The house full of laughter and three crazy people, crazy for each other.

(Art by @kazenomegaminowanpisu )

#wishitweresummer #mcyt tickle #lee!quackity #april fools 2023 #karlnapity tickle #quackity tickle #tickle fic #karlnapity fic

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starified-lizzy · 2 months

Text

I figured I should redo my intro to my blog-

ELLO >:DDDD

Name’s Lizzy! Or Star! I really don’t give a fuck which you use!

I draw shit for FANDOMS

I write shit for FANDOMS

I got OCS whom I LOVE and ADORE.

“Can I draw fanart of your fics?” My sibling in Christ, we are married. /pos

“Can I draw fanart of your fanart(like DTIYS)?” My sibling in Christ. /pos

“Can I draw fanart of your OCs?” CHRIST. /pos

RAHHHHHH (it’s really fucking early I shouldn’t be doing this now ;-;)

Here’s a list of my socials, it is very limited because I hate the “standard” socials like Twitter and Insta and stuff like that. So it’s more like- fanfic sites, and any other blogs I own for you guys to check out >.>

My AO3

My Art Fight

My YouTube

My TikTok (basically dead at this point, I only ever like/favorite things on it, but I might start up again with my FNF au instead)

My Pinterest

My Spotify because sure

My FNF au blog

My demonpocalypse blog ([possibly] forever retired due to a severe issue in the community it was for)

Blog for food/recipes I want to try because MMMMMMMMMMM FOOOOD

Wow that’s actually not limited like I thought- hot damn I need to touch some grass.

HERES A LIST OF FANDOMS IM EITHER CURRENTLY IN, OR HAVE RETIRED FROM (Also CCs):

Retired-

DSMP (and MCYT as a whole for the most part), dude our community is in *shambles*. I’m so glad I left when I did, but at the same time O W.

ATLA. Technically I’m still in this fandom, but I only really get back into it/brainrot about it if I get a reminder, otherwise I kinda forget about it

FNAF. Same with ATLA, still technically in it, but I gotta be reminded it exists sometimes.

BATIM. Ditto

Wings of Fire. Ditto

Undertale. Ditto. Lizzy, my main persona, was actually an OC created from Undertale, who just ended up becoming her own person, and then ended up being associated with mine and my friend’s Minecraft au instead.

Onto CCs I no longer watch:

Any of the DSMP ppl, with very few exceptions

Jacksepticeye. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still watch a video of his if it pops up and spikes my interest, but I don’t actively seek his content out anymore.

Any of the old Minecrafters. Like DanTDM, Stampy, Tiny Turtle & Little Lizard. Hell, I don’t even think any of the ones I listed even do YT at all anymore. I’ll still watch their old videos tho.

Current-

FNF. I really could give less of a fuck if y’all think it’s “bad” or “for kids (it’s not, I promise you)”. The music slaps, and quite a few mods are really well made, so eat my ass.

Day of Dragons. The dragons are cool. I don’t care about any drama in the community. I’m here for the cool fucking dragons.

The Isle. Once again, I don’t care about any drama in the community. I’m here for the cool ass dinosaurs because you can customize your own skins and they just look and sound cool (Dilo, Herarra, and Ptera are my faves)

Lethal Company. Do it for the Company.

RainWorld. Scugs and Scups. Need I say more?

Hollow Knight. Sorta falling out of this one, but until I beat the entire game (P5) I am not finished.

Minecraft. Technically in “the fandom”, but not really attached to a specific YTer or anything like that anymore. I just like the game.

CCs I still watch:

Astral Spiff. Sprog is a good gamer.

Smii7y and his friends like Grizzy, Droid, Puffer, Blarg, etc.

Jack Manifold. I only watch his You Laugh You Loose and Ghost Sighting Compilation videos. I don’t even know if he still does Minecraft anymore.

8-BitRyan. While he doesn’t swear in his videos, it’s kinda a breath of fresh air. Plus his edits are quite funny.

Markiplier. Yes. Just… yes…

IGP. His content is just interesting. The way he freaks out over shit is funny as hell. Does he do content with IcyCaress anymore? Their banter was funny, but idk if something happened, cuz I just don’t see much stuff with Icy in it anymore.

As of right now, that’s all I can think of. It’s nice to meet you!

#blog intro #introductory post #redid my intro because things changed and I wanted it to be more COLORFUL and CRAZY #artists on tumblr #fanfic writers #writers on tumblr #small youtuber #for fun

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chaotic-evil-frog · 9 months

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GOOD OMENS FANS WHO CAN DRAW COMICS AND STUFF! please I am begging anyone to draw a comic of archangel Azi forcing Crowley into an Angel.

Like Crowley would be very distraught and sad, he’d take a walk in the park and then stop at the ice cream man and order a vanilla flake, he’d begin to ask for a strawberry popsicle but then hesitate and just ask for the vanilla flake. Once he gets his ice cream he’d begin to leave but then he’d be kidnapped by angels (this is all very similar to s1 ep6)

Once he arrives in heaven he’d be like, “oh great another 3xecut1on, you really wana try this again?” He’d be surrounded by the other archangels but Azi would be mysteriously missing…? Then Crowley would struggle in the white rope chair.

“Oh not quite soo Crowley” Then moving past the archangels comes Aziraphale comes through and smiles down at Crowley.

“Angel? What are you doing? What is this?” He’d say in a rushed panic that wasn’t present before.

“Oh Crowley, wait an see…” he’d keep his kind smile however something dark and twisted lies beneath it, you’d compare it to a demon however it was far to *holy* for that.

“Aziraphale! What are you doing!” Crowley shouts but to no avail.

The Angel just hums some song Crowley couldn’t place.

“AZIRAPHALE!”

“Oh Crowley, *insert some poetic line about how much Aziraphale loves Crowley, and forgave him for leaving, like: ‘we’ve been together in every century, why brake that streak right before eternity’ or ‘I said I forgave you, but I will never forget about you’ or something way more poetic I can’t think off•

“Aziraphale, I DONT WANT THIS! I don’t want heaven!-“

“But you fell so long ago, you can’t remember how good heaven was!”

“ANGEL LISTEN TO ME!”

“Oh but I remember, I remember it all, I can still see your smile after creating that nebula…”

“What…?”

“Oh I can’t recall a time you were that happy, ever.”

“ Oh and I remember your tip about the suggestion box! Now that I’m in charge I can put up a suggestion box if you’d like!”

Crowley is in pure shock, it’s more of an open ended look where you can’t quite tell what he’s thinking.

“Oh and once you join us I’ll put you right back on star creation!”

Aziraphale looks all too pleased with himself,

“Please tell me you want this! Please tell me you’ll join me!” Aziraphale begs Crowley.

There’s a beat of silence before Crowley raises his head to face the angel.

“No,”

“What?”

“No, I’ll never join heaven again.”

“Bu-But Crowley! It’s me! I’m Heaven! This is all my plan!”

“You aren’t heaven, Angel, you’re just a pawn in some almighty’s ineffable plan”

“Well fine then, if you can’t see eye to eye with me then that’s that.”

Crowley sighs thinking this is over.

“Start the reinstatement.” Aziraphale says as he turns away from Crowley

“WHAT! Angel no. NO, AZIRAPHALE, STOP IT!”

He screams in anguish as his wings are forced out, only for them to start withering and decaying alongside his body, his skin seems to be flaking off, revealing something new underneath.

As the last feather falls off his raven wings he sighs. Believe in Thai to be over but he feels something, something beneath his skin. Then he shrieks as two stark white wings ripe out of his back and tear their way through his body.

He’s in such pain he hasn’t even noticed that his entire form has been remade. His skin now as smooth as a cherub, his once snakeish eyes now a kind doe brown, and his clothes, his stylish sleek black ensemble now traded out for a white ride, not even his snake skin boots remained.

The only thing remotely similar to his demonic self was his hair, still a firey red. He was freed from the chair, well not so much freed as the chair vanished beneath him.

He fell to the floor, flapping his sore new wings.

He looks as Aziraphale kneels down to her level, “ Ah, there we are angel!” Aziraphale muttered as he grabbed Crowley’s face in between his hands.

“Welcome back!” And with that Crowley was left alone on the floor heavens office, surrounded in blood. Such a nice way to get over a breakup

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 spoilers #please help me I’ve been thinking about them for the last 5 days and I can’t stop #comic idea #ineffible husbands #good ineffable omens #ineffable idiots #ineffable fandom #i haven’t been on here in so long #crowley #aziraphel #I just realized I’ve been spelling Aziraphek wrong in the entire post #crowly x aziraphale #aziraphale

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davenweenie · 1 year

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Little Baby HC Post

Hey babes, sorry for the lack of Lab Rats HCs lately. I’ve had exams and shows coming up for Christmas time. I’ve been really busy so there won’t be much from me until my exams are over. My last show is next week so I’ll be busy until then. But for now, have a few HCs to quench your thirst of this surprisingly not dead fandom.

-Chase still likes to play guitar in his free time, Kaz finds him playing one day with the mute function on (he had his headphones plugged in) and asked if he could hear him play. Kaz was amazed.

-Kaz is a punk and his favourite band is the Ramones. Douglas was a punk in his youth (he still is, just more muted) and takes Kaz under his wing and takes him to punk gigs or tribute bands of both of their favourite bands.

-Bree loves scaring people by using her vocal manipulation, she’s also the master at prank calls now.

-Chase sometimes accidentally floats (I think we all forget he can levitate as part of one of his bionic abilities, ppl need to talk abt this more) and he never notices until someone points it out to him.

-Chase has complete heterochromia (two different eye colours) and you don’t really notice it until his bionic eye glows. It was the first thing Kaz noticed though, and he loves it. However he constantly fake cries about how his boyfriend’s eyes are ‘straight’ (get it, because HETEROchromia)

-I’m not sure if I’ve talked about this hc before but Leo is definitely queer. He calls himself queer because he hasn’t found a label that fits better than that. He likes any gender but used to have a preference for girls. He now doesn’t mind whatever gender he dates.

-Chase had a massive hyperfixation with baking at one point and everybody loves it. Kaz gained about ten pounds from the amount of cookies and cakes he had been eating.

-Kaz is little spoon. He loves feeling encased in love.

-BUFF KAZ SUPREMACY! That man became a non-toxic gym bro after joining the Elite Force and no I’m not accepting disagreement at this point in time.

-Oliver is one of the best at a good sneak attack. Nobody expects a really lean guy to be the one who has super strength. People think he might have super speed but no, he’s super strong. People expect Kaz to be the one that got super strength because he looks the most buff but no, it’s Oliver.

-I hc Skylar to be pretty buff too. I love the way Tabs(? Please tell me you know who I’m talking about. I have completely forgotten their username. They wrote Decimation and other Elite Force rewrites on AO3 and do a lot of Lab Rats art here) draws Skylar.

Anyway, that is all for today, folks. I hope you enjoyed this half-assed post. I’m sorry it’s a little rushed but I wanted to get something out there.

#adam davenport #bree davenport #chase davenport #chase x kaz #donald davenport #lab rats #leo dooley #oliver mighty med #skylar storm #tasha davenport #elite force #mighty med #headcanon #kaz mighty med #headcanons

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faroreswinds · 1 year

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I’m sure sending you an ask off anon will probably get me put on a list of some kind but fuck it, I’ve already got one unhinged stalker, what’s another one in the mix lmao, and i want to make it extremely clear that I support you in this.

Like it really says something that these stannies absolutely do not quit after four damn years of the same thing. Doesn’t matter how factual you are (correctly citing art history in its original intent and context, canon game dialogue and timelines, interviews, etc), how polite you are, how straightforward you and others are because none of that matters at all to these chumps. This is a straight up gamergate-style sealioning campaign that in the end isn’t really about edelgard at all—she’s just the convenient platform for these people to expound their insane maximalist fandom-as-politics viewpoint that has irreparably damaged houses’ reputation for fans and has conflated videogame communities as a testing ground for in-group loyalty metrics.

Aside from what you and others have already said, it’s telling that they always follow a set script: Church Evil and Fascist, Edelgard Revolutionary and Morally Good, alongside truly reprehensible weaponisation of identity politics and socjus buzzwords. It’s not enough to assert that Edelgard is a pure lesbian hero (biphobia what), it must mean that by diametrically opposing her, Dimitri has to be evil, straight (but when they grudgingly acknowledge his queerness, it’s then asserting that said queerness can only exist within him being repressed and tamping it down because of evil Faerghian misogynist politics, never mind that Adrestia is the biggest misogynist of the continent lol), and singularly obsessed with targeting what she represents; Rhea, the chief architect of all that is evil in Fódlan and directly responsible for its misogyny, homophobia, and whatever else alongside with lobbing assertions of her being a “groomer” (which anyone with half a brain cell not dedicated to being chronically online know is now a popular right-wing argot used to directly target the lgbt community with truly heinous accusations equating them to paedophilia), among other things.

Only extreme statements and buzzwords for the characters, all the time: Edelgard as a hero, Dimitri and Rhea as representatives of ontological evil that Edelgard must defeat with extreme prejudice.

Let’s also point out the fact that in a true debate—because they’re not really debating at all and I say this as a professional debater myself who has won medals for this shit and trained youth teams in my country—the onus on the opposing side has to accept neutral statements from their counterparts. They cannot seriously say that their statements on Edelgard must be taken as fact while simultaneously discounting yours as fiction, because at best that would obviously be called out as ad hoc attempt to muddy the waters; at worst, blatantly trying to control the debate solely with their own parameters as the only acceptable ones, and thus openly attempting to silence dissenting opinions. If they really want to try to convince others that they’re really presenting legitimate debate, they cannot seriously pretend that their actions support that claim when they:

Approach you first and then continue to hound you

Constantly repeat themselves in an attempt to wear you down and confuse you, which is absolutely something that can be penalised in formal debate

Get offended and then accuse you of abuse when you firmly disagree with them and draw boundaries

Let’s also not forget the fact that their actions as a community absolutely do constitute harassment when they’ve been caught gloating about running moonlitboar off tumblr, the revelation that they keep a list of Edelgard critics to monitor them, forcing vas to apologise for expressing negative opinions about Edelgard (note how Rhea gets called so much bad shit but you don’t see Rhea fans calling for her haters’ blood), and even prompting YouTubers to change entire videos to avoid backlash, if not to simply stay in their good graces (and milk them for views and ad cash)

Aside from absolutely garbage essentialist Pure Lesbian Women are from Venus, Evil Repressed Hettie Obsessed Men are from Mars viewpoints, it’s truly mind boggling that they’ve bought into the belief that f/f is somehow purer and “less problematic” than m/m solely because they’ve decided that the heavy mlm moments for the Lions must point to their inherent moral degeneracy, which I would again like to remind them that that is actually homophobic; hell, I’ve seen quite a few using fujoshi as an insult. Let me take the time to explain that fujoshi and mlm fandom in Asia (explained by Asian fans themselves!) has always been seen as a symptom of mostly women fans being disgusting and “rotten,” and that their interest in mlm relationships is not only a betrayal of their gender (and ofc fujoshi as an insult in the west is a popular argument with terfs), but a sign that they’re degenerate and that something is deeply wrong with them.

Never mind that across the world, ff in media has sadly mostly been used as porn fodder for straight, misogynist men, because lesbian sex titillates them while gay sex repulses them. Utena is the outlier in a sea of garbage and said ff garbage is mostly shown as porn anyways. Gengoroh Tagame, a popular gay mangaka, has spoken about how female fans of mlm in japan are often big supporters of lgbt rights. Let’s not even get into the fact that the demographics of most edelgard spaces (like r/edelgard) are of straight men.

I also really despise how they’ve discovered “antisemitic” as a new buzzword. I’m Jewish. I loathe how most people only seem to care about opposing antisemitism when it’s in a videogame or movie, instead of in real life when we get hatecrimed. But it’d be remiss of me not to mention the way my blood boils when edelstans seriously repeat church slander of the nabateans being fake humans, evil reptilians wearing human skins as a disguise for them to manipulate the world from the shadows and using a fake, evil religion as their cover (not to mention how they describe the tenets of said religion as evil and conveniently forge and misrepresent its texts to make it look worse…where have i seen that before), who impede societal development to keep themselves on top, and, as the cherry on the shit cake, as miserly hoarders who keep monumental wealth to themselves and refuse to use it to help others.

Really makes you think then that it doesn’t take much for them to admit they see the Nabatean genocide as a positive, that its completion is necessary for edelgard to succeed (even if they hem and haw about what they think would happen to byleth, Seteth, and flayn), and borrowing from blatant irl genocide denial rhetoric saying that the agarthans (who are literal moustache twirling evil villains) were the original inhabitants who actually got genocided by the nasty coloniser lizards and that their retribution is absolutely justified and understandable. I laugh to think what their though process will be like if they even play the jugdral games.

And finally, since it bears mentioning, they should keep byleths name out of their fucking mouths. As a huge self admitted Byleth stan, seeing them whinge and whine and bitch and moan about poor Edelgard getting criticised really grinds my gears when the last four years has been seeing me constantly trying to navigate a fandom space that relentlessly shits on byleth and says they ruin the games and are nothing but player pandering or when people fucking celebrated the scene of shez killing them in hopes. Edelstans don’t get to try and use them as a prop to prove how edelgard is so good to them (and is so pure as a whole) when we have quantifiable data showing that Byleth smiles the most in verdant wind, has an incredibly strong character arc in azure moon, and that for THREE ROUTES OUT OF FOUR in houses (two if you count hopes scenarios when they’re kept alive) they always end up opposing her, because that is their actual character. Let’s talk about how r/byleth is mostly populated by r/edelgard fans who mostly post porn of fem byleth but have admitted to actually hating her, but liking the fact that she’s got big tits and can be used for yuri fanservice. Or let’s talk about feh: all their alts so far show their loyalty and closeness TO THE NABATEANS. And fuck it, I’m of the opinion that actually the devs’ edelgard bias is what ruined byleth and what made them silent. Because when they’re separated from houses (and thus not in her immediate focus), they fucking shine!!!

Tldr: hi raxis, what’s good!!

Addendum: edelgard has the most 3h alts in feh, cipher card art showing her naked and/or with suggestive costumes, is the most attached to the avatar characters in 3h/hopes/feh of her roster, is named first in the dlc for 3h in engage, has the tea set paired with hreslveg blend, ETC. if that’s not obv favouritism by an obv mostly male dev team, then, well…

Hey, how are you? Hope things are well!

When thinking about that exchange from the other day, @butwhatifidothis had an excellent post that put into words more eloquently than I could about issue:

They are right - I never mentioned it myself because my brain didn't quite go there, but many of the arguments were basically "this character would do this hypothetically", which is nothing more than mere headcanon.

Full disclosure, but I am not a professional debater. I am not even trained. Back in school I famously hated debates because I always felt they relied on twisting facts rather than empirical data. I liked data, that's why I went into the Sciences.

The only debating in Science is whether your results are accurate and if your method is indisputable. Is this ethical? What are we basing our ethnics off of? Proper science doesn't care about your opinions, or how bad so and so was back in the 1700s. Science - and Math - liked numbers, and numbers are cold and inflexible.

So I must admit that debating (not discussions, but debating) do tend to make me nervous at times. I like to learn, and to be challenged on how I view the world. But debating is not a skill I am honestly good at. I can lost track of the original point. I can get discombobulated by the lexicon and factoids when they are rapid fired at me.

That's why I engage in them. It's practice. If I don't do it, I will never get better.

And my untrained eyes could see that this debate... was not really a debate, but a shake-down. I was curious to see where it would go.

If anyone else finds this in this situation, here is my unprofessional advice:

Do not insult or use language that could be misconstrued as aggressive. Remain polite and sincere. Remaining polite does not mean agreeing to everything they say. But, instead of saying something like "You are wrong!" re-word it as "I don't agree with your view" or "I do not believe that is correct".

Do not let yourself be bullied. If this means you wish to disengage, just disengage. Make it comfortable for yourself. In my case, I was comfortable to keep going, but that may not be true for you. They make take this as a win, but you aren't being graded on this and this isn't politics. It's video game stuff.

Use only facts, do not use headcanons or opinions. This makes it harder for the other person to fight you, because you are remaining neutral. If you wish to discuss or bring up something that is not based on text, be sure to make it clear.

Call out when they twist your words. One user claimed that I had once used their name in my post. I never did, so I asked them where I had said that. It forces the other user, if they wish to respond, to either acknowledge they made a mistake, or they risk making themselves look like liars.

Never take it personally. They don't really know you. They are just bored and angry.

Always try to get them to think. This one I am still trying to master. When they make a claim, ask them why they think that. Why are they drawing that conclusion? What if they thought about it this way? If they are regurgitating whatever they have heard from others, they may get tripped up by this. This does run the risk of irritating the other person, but I find it is a helpful tool to both learn and to challenge your opponent to explaining themselves better.

This is the hardest one of all. Do not lose sight of the topic. It is not uncommon for these discussions to go a million different directions. If you lose sight, you may end up on a path you don't want to be on. Stay on topic. I'm still working on this too.

It's really cool that you are a trained debater. If you have any other further advice, or if my advice is terrible, I would love to hear it!

Ultimately, I think many of these types of fans just want to use whatever buzzwords and language they can to not only guilt the other party into bending a knee to their opinions, but to also shame anyone who likes another fictional character.

It's really a shame that other fans feel the need to go to such lengths over someone who is not real.

But per your addenhem, it is true that Edelgard gets a lot of love and attention from IS. She is popular. She doesn't need someone to come sweeping in defending her fictional honor.

Poor Claude really gets the shortest end of the stick in all this. This guy doesn't even have the same number of alts as Dimitri in FEH.

The sexuality stuff confuses me the most. Perhaps it is because my particular sexuality makes up 1% of the population, but I usually don't see why it is such a big deal when it comes to FE. FE doesn't make statements about sexuality. It is not try to teach about sexuality. It is not trying to push an agenda of any kind except the Make Money Agenda.

This weird vilifying fans of who likes mlm content, often framed as disgusting straight fujos who fetishize men. I find this an odd statement. From my point of view, anything that has any sort of sex is fetishizing, period. Straight, gay, whatever.

Well, regardless, thank you for the nice ask. I hope I could give is an answer that gives it justice. :)

#asks #Three Houses discourse #Edelgard discourse

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gust-jar-simulator · 8 months

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I have written too many posts referencing goth Vio and not enough posts actually describing goth Vio. I should fix this.

I need everyone to know that Red is really supportive the entire time, drags Blue into it, and Blue and Vio 100% do the lesbians-doing-their-makeup straddle pose thing at least once. Blue is the best at eyeliner and he is personally offended if one of his counterparts has uneven wings when he is Right There and could have just done it in the first place.

Eyeliner is not a common makeup practice in Hyrule, it is extremely Gerudo, so we’re off to a great start actually. While the mines we know about in-game are mostly connected to Mt. Crenel, volcanoes in general, etc, given the blatant Egyptian references with the Gerudo (pyramids) as well as the general theme of making them Pretty Ladies, they deserve to have makeup and the mineral resources for it.

(I have vague thoughts about the Goddess of the Sands as a kind of Hathor/Sekhmet figure, but that’s irrelevant here)

I tend to base a lot of fashion and culture ideas in the Minish Cap era on Scotland/Ireland/Wales, though I think the climate in that version of Hyrule is a lot warmer considering the proximity of Mt. Crenel and the Desert of Doubt, so maybe a bit more like Galicia in Spain? I’m getting sidetracked.

When I think about dressing Vio, I tend to automatically fall back on archers and archery garb throughout history. Archers were an insane tactical advantage, particularly on horseback, so pants would be my go-to. Heeled boots were also useful to give you an advantage when standing in the stirrups, actually. Overall the boys seem to hoof it everywhere, pardon the pun, but in places like France heels were adopted so nobles could be a little taller than everyone else. In Ancient Greece they were used to denote the most important actors on a stage.

I’m getting sidetracked again. Point is, Vio in heels would be fun, but to be honest I could see Legend wearing them more often. Sometimes Time. And Twilight. That’s what cowboy boots are, you know.

Back on topic, Vio has the advantage of being able to make his own jewelry. Drawing wire in particular takes a kind of focus Blue may or may not have, and that’s not even getting into the detail work. Plus, as evidenced by BOTW, it’s good for enchantments. Considering Vio’s fanon fixation on dark magic, I could definitely see him experimenting with earrings that shield you from sunlight, or light magic in general, for whenever he finally resurrects his boyfriend. Vio quickly starts becoming extremely pale after that because he keeps forgetting to take the earrings off (they’re dark and cold and feel a little familiar, he doesn’t want to).

In that same vein of thought, I am genuinely not sure if whatever his body is made of can take tattoos, or how it would work when they recombine, but if you’re going to research necromancy you might as well tattoo ancient and ominous runes on yourself the same way you inscribe them into jewelry. Why augment items when you can augment yourself? They’d have to be carefully chosen and very carefully done, mathematically precise, but Vio’s up to the research necessary to make his own body into a conduit for dark magic. Considering the major sources of darkness in LOZ are the Gerudo and the Sheikah (and the Twili who might be both), the aesthetic is probably unmatched too.

I definitely think he’s got a little ruler tattooed on his finger specifically to make sure he gets his summoning circles right.

Depending on how you want to write the rules of necromancy his clothes could go a few ways, but I’ve been rolling around the Egyptian idea of no materials from the dead. No leather boots, for example, because you don’t want to offend the spirits by bringing the unclean presence of death before them, etc. If we want to get really wild with it, I would love to play with the idea of Vio doing some magic experiments buck naked just to remove that variable altogether. There are a few reasons to do something like that- respectfully showing you’re of lower status than whatever you’re summoning, an attempt to be more in tune with the nature around you, so on. There is some comedy potential for Green walking into the basement, seeing Vio naked and covered in runes, and walking right back out.

While the Era of Light probably doesn’t have a convenient goth scene or even a decently moody bar, I feel like I would be doing a disservice to the subculture if I didn’t mention music. Music is a massive part of the Legend of Zelda experience, and an argument could be made that raw magic- and the ancient language of the gods themselves- might be music. In English, the words incant and enchant both have their roots in the Latin incantare, “to sing”. In Skyward Sword, Fi sings, and both of the sword spirits seem to dance to channel magic. Don’t get me started on Ocarina of Time.

As such, no decent aspiring necromancer worth their salt could neglect the possibility that an understanding of music, particularly funerary songs and the like, might help in resurrecting a dead boyfriend. If there is a spiritual aspect to burial, surely there is an equal and opposite spiritual aspect to unburial. Given how I tend to utilize Gaelic mythology when I think about Minish Cap, there’s topics like the banshee caoine to consider. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Gerudo had professional mourners. Vio is 100% experimenting with the technical side of writing music for ritual purposes and simultaneously writing little heartfelt pieces to go with the grief-filled love poems in the back of his journal that no one gets to read.

That’s all I have for now, but there will be more.

#vio link #minish cap #loz four swords #the goth vio saga

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crestapex · 5 months

Note

Hello! I saw a post saying COD matchups are open! If not, please ignore this ^^ Also, I haven't fone a matchup ask in forever, so sorry if I'm rusty...

I'm punk and it really shows in my appearance. I got a red mohawk, and some piercings and tattoos. I like to customise my clothes as much as possible, so battle jackets, studs, chains, pins and patches with slogans and band icons/names are my daily wardrobe.

I'm nonbinary, panromantic asexual and I go by they them pronouns. I'm trilingual and I love learning about stuff, mostly languages and time zones. I am very probably autistic, so I have issues with social interactions as well as sensory issues and I have tics, motoric and vocal. Usually I just chirp, repeat phrases or wave my hands around, twist my neck etc. But sometimes, when I'm anxious, my tics get more violent and I often punch/pinch myself. I struggle with depression a lot as well as some unhealthy coping mechanisms that involve pain, to put it lightly.

I love art, I consider myself a poet, I got one book published and I like to attend poetry competitions. I also draw a lot and paint. I like crafting as well, I have tons of little projects either going on or in my head. I have to journal a lot, because if I don't write it down you can bet I'll forget it :D I also like cooking :)

I love animals, I used to have pet rats and would want them in the future.

I think I'm kind, maybe a bit too much, I would do anything for my loved ones. My MBTI type is INFJ if that helps. I try to make others laugh and feel comfortable, I'm kind of a mix between the parent friend and the clown friend. My love language is words of affirmation and quality time. I tend to get into arguments, because a) people usually take me seriously when I'm being sarcastic or playful (another tism trait), b) because when it comes to things I'm passionate about, I always think I'm right and I have the need to convince the other person that my opinion is better. Also because I get frustrated when people don't get what I mean exactly.

My special interests are horror, in all forms, horror movies, horror books, video essays, deep dives...I like true crime as well and I like to collect bones and other things people often deem creepy (I have a bird skeleton/mummy in a jar).

I think that's it, take as much time as you need, and again, if matchups aren't open, feel free to just delete this <3

You’re all good 👍 (I’m not too familiar with the whole MBTI type of stuff, so I tried my best to look into it, lol.)

I match you with: Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra!

I think he’d be pretty into watching video essays and deep dives with you. Rudy would have no problem setting himself on the couch right beside you, claiming that it keeps him educated and his mind sharp. But really he’d end up passing out in 30 minutes, one of his arms wrapped tightly around you as if you were to magically grow wings and fly away from him. The other resting gently on your arm or thigh if you find yourself sitting practically in his lap. It’s one of the few times he finds himself at true peace and serenity.

Having any shared friends means you guys are definitely referred to as the parents of the group. Drama at the grocery store? Off to go gossip with the two of you! Looking for relationship advice? Once again, off to you and Rudy. And when you guys get into a small, tiny even, slight disagreement in front of your friends? All of sudden it’s the end of the world and everyone is talking about having two christmases. 😐

But also most likely to be the one to bring you down from confrontation or arguments. He will tell you when it’s time to take a step back and calm down, and he’ll continue to talk you down from it and put a comforting hand on your lower back. And if you want to take a moment to continue ranting about it? Go for it, he’ll listen, only to voice his opinion on the situation if you ask for it and/or after you’ve come back down to earth. He’s pretty level headed (especially compared to someone like Alejandro… *side eye*…) and tends to have good judgment like that, so I think that would balance out your relationship, especially if you’re more on the temperamental side.

I can picture him as some sort of gift giver, which I’d imagine would go pretty well with someone who has strong collector tendencies. And they wouldn’t always be the most elaborate and luxurious gifts—though it’s not out of the question—it be something small or something he just found interesting and made him think of you. Think of a gem or crystal he found be sold at a little gift stand, or a small drawstring bag full of bottle caps from all around the world and from all kinds of bottles (that, or he’d be the one to gift you the bottle caps to add a collection, lol).

Loves your artistic side, especially your poetry. Write him little pieces of poetry on a sticky note or torn corner of a piece of paper and he will most definitely keep it in his pocket, only pulling it out to read when he’s alone and missing you—“Oh, mi cielo…” he’d whisper to himself and bring the piece of paper right over his chest, on top his beating heart. He’d close his eyes and let himself be overrun with thoughts of you, even if it’s just for a quick minute before he would have to return back to work. And while you may not believe it’s your best work, Rudy will think it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever read.

mi cielo = “my sky” or “my Heaven”

#december 2023

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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

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Blood That Drives Us

Part 2.

Masterlist ~ Previous ~ Next

Good morning Sleeping Beauty... or is it Beast?

You wake in the morning, rolling over to look down at Eddie, you see him wrapped up in his own wings, head resting on your pillow. Cute. He looks so peaceful despite his marred complexion, you watch him for a moment before the sound of a birdcall snaps you out of your stupor. CUTE? You did not just think of that creature as cute, what the fuck? Nope, that didn’t happen. You slide out from under the covers, trying not to wake him. Slipping into your bathroom, you brush your hair and wash your face before tiptoeing downstairs.

Entering the kitchen you spot a note on the bench in your mum’s curly script, ‘Gone to the market with your dad, won’t be home ‘til after lunch.’ Perfect you think to yourself and start on some breakfast.

Eddie wakes to the smell of sizzling bacon and for a moment forgets where he is, forgets what he is. As the fog of sleep recedes, he remembers, unfurling the wings wrapped around him, he rolls over with a groan to see your bed empty. He gets up to go downstairs but then hesitates… your parents… probably safer to just stay in the bedroom.

You ascend the stairs with your food, you’d fixed up a small plate for Eddie too, just in case. Arranged everything on a tray. You know he said food didn’t taste right to him anymore, but you couldn’t help yourself, a bit of your mum’s influence shining through you. You balance the tray in one hand while you open your bedroom door. You see him standing in the middle of the room awkwardly, he stares at his reflection in the mirror above your dresser. You place the tray of food on your bed and take a seat cross-legged. Taking a bite before exclaiming, “Hey, you have a reflection! I thought vampires weren’t supposed to have a reflection.”

He sighs wearily, “I think that myth came about ‘cause they used to make mirrors with actual silver backing, and you know vampires and silver don’t really mix. But it’s a lot less common to use silver in mirrors now, there’s cheaper ways to do it. Also, vampires aren’t real.”

He turns to face you, eying the spread before you. You offer him the plate, “Here, I know you said about your food thing, but I thought you might like to try eat something at least.”

He shrugs sinking to the floor by your bed, positioning the plate in front of him. He picks up a piece of bacon, looking at it sceptically before taking a tentative bite, pausing for a moment in thought. You watch him as pointed rows of fangs gnaw on the meat in his mouth.

It’s not bad, it’s not good, it just is, he thinks. It does little to satiate his appetite but it’s better than what he’d managed to get his hands on before, at least it didn’t leave a nasty, ashy taste in his mouth.

You watch him expectantly, he looks back up to you sitting on the bed, “Well?” You prompt him.

“It’s not bad, still doesn’t taste the same as before though. Thanks anyway.” He replies.

He turns his head back to his plate and the two of you continue eating in silence for a moment.

Swallowing a mouthful of egg, you get his attention with a wave of your hand, “So, my parents are out for most of the day. We’ve got free rein of the house ‘til they get back. What do you want to do?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs, “What would you normally do?”

“Read, watch a movie, listen to music, draw, hang out with Steve or Robin… although I’m pretty sure that last one isn’t an option.” You list off noncommittally.

“How ‘bout we watch a movie then.” He suggests.

The screen flickers to life with a buzz of static, you switch over the channel and insert the video in the player. You sit on the lounge curling your feet up beneath you, you motion for him to take a seat as the movie begins. He glances between the spot beside you and the solitary recliner on the other side of the coffee table. He opts for the recliner, throwing his legs over one of the armrests, back pressed against the other as his wings settle hanging over the side of the chair.

An hour or so passes before the sound of the garage door opening startles you, and both of you leap to your feet.

“Shit, get back upstairs quick.” You whisper at him frantically. He scrambles out of the room, rushing up the stairs to the safety of your room.

“y/n is that you?” Your mum shouts from the garage.

“Yeah mum, it’s me. What’s up? You guys need help bringing anything in from the car?” You call back.

“No love, we’re alright. It’s just I thought I heard voices. Thought maybe Steve was here.” She says peering into the living room.

“Nope just me, I was watching a movie, maybe that’s what you heard.” You gesture to the tv.

You can’t manage to get up to your room for the rest of the day, busy with your parents, worrying it may look suspicious if you insist on spending the day holed up in your room. When you finally do get back up there, darkness has set in, you find Eddie sitting out on your roof one of your books in hand, reading by the light of your window. You slip out the window to join him, sitting by his side, “You enjoying that?”

“Hmmm.” He flips the book over, holding his finger between the pages as he looks at the cover, your copy of ‘The Exorcist’ staring back at him.

“Yeah, uh not exactly what I expected you to be into, but yeah it’s good.”

“Well, I’m just full of surprises, you’ll find.” You tease.

“Apparently.” He agrees. “But you don’t know Nosferatu or Anne Rice, huh?”

“Eh. No, not really.” You shrug, “So what now?”

“I think I should go, can’t hang around here forever. That’d be weird.”

“Where you gonna go?”

“Well, there was this cave that I found early on… probably try there? Still got some of my stuff in there, nothing major but it’s something I guess.” Shrugging as he stands to leave, extending his arm to return your book.

You shake your head, “Hang on to it, something to pass the time.” You offer.

He nods, “Alright, well see ya… I guess.”

“Bye.” You wave back at his retreating form.

Well, that was strange, you think to yourself before standing, brushing yourself off and returning to your room.

The next day you’re back at school, as usual, but it doesn’t feel the same. You walk around feeling like you have some terribly scandalous, little secret you’re hiding away. And well, you kind of do. The gang have avoided mentioning it around you when you see them, but you know they’ve been looking for Eddie. Dustin most fervently, to little surprise on your part, the kid really looked up to him as a mentor.

Part of you wanted to tell them, let them know that Eddie was ok now, all things considered and not completely alone. You don’t know why but you could feel a sort of friendship blossoming between you, surely it was only out of necessity on his part, it’s not like he really had anyone else at the moment. You couldn’t betray him like that though, when he was ready to for his friends to find him, he would come out of the shadows… right? Maybe you could talk to him, help him figure shit out, he needs more than just you in his life… if he could ever get back to a life, in his current state. You hang your head, the turmoil, roiling inside your head bringing a sigh to your lips. Shaking free of your thoughts you turn your attention back to the lesson.

You head straight home after school, no work today, you find yourself laying on the living room floor doodling in a notebook, tv humming in the background. It was just beginning to get dark, your homework’s all done, parents still aren’t home, you’re at a loss for what to do. You could make a start on dinner, but its still a little early, sighing you decide you could at least do some of the prep work.

Just as you’ve washed the vegetables and begun chopping the potatoes, you hear a clattering upstairs.

“Hello?” You call out, knife still in hand as you ascend the staircase.

You hear your bedroom window squeak as it’s being pushed open, you fling open your door flipping on the lights to see Eddie falling through your window.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You clutch at your chest, the knife in your hand falls by your side. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

He rises from where he’s landed in the floor, closing the window and turning to eye you up and down, “Clearly,” he nods to the knife, “and what were you planning on doing with that?”

You look down at the knife in your hand, flushed with embarrassment, “Oh… uh, I was making dinner.” You shrug.

“You wanna help?” You suggest, eyes snapping back to his hopefully. “I could always use a Sou chef.”

He chuckles, “Yeah sure, as long as you don’t expect anything too advanced from me.”

You wave a hand dismissively, “Nothing too hard, just making some steak and veggies.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad.” He nods, following as you head back down to the kitchen.

You deposit your knife on the chopping board on the island in the middle of the kitchen before moving to pull a pot out of a cupboard, placing it by the sink and turning to face him.

“Ok, where do you want me?” He leans back against the island, arms spread with a smirk.

An image springs to your mind unbidden, of him pressed back against the counter, naked, cock hard and leaking… waiting for you as you sink to your knees in front of him. You disguise your gasp as a cough and stutter out, “Oh… uh… I-I guess you can continue chopping, while I get the potatoes on the stove.”

You turn your back to him quickly, eyes wide busying yourself at the sink filling the pot with water. You cringe, Where the fuck did THAT come from?

He picks up the knife, seemingly oblivious to your plight, “So uh, how do you want this done?”

You instruct him on what to do and the rest of the process goes off without any further incident or intrusive thoughts.

You prepare a couple of plates for your parents, covering them with foil and placing them in the still warm oven. You leave a note for them telling them where the food is before splitting your portion between two plates.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Eddie watches as you slice into your steak placing a piece on each plate, his mouth watering at the sight of the bloody juices that flow out.

“I’m sharing with you, bozo.” You reply without looking away from the task at hand.

“What? You don’t need to-“

You cut him off, “It’s fine, I want to and besides you need to eat don’t you?”

“I mean I guess… I am hungry, but…” he shrugs, trailing off.

“Well, there you go. I like my steak a little rare, I hope that’s ok with you.” You hold out the plate towards him.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, still eyeing the meat in front of him, “If not I can always put it back in the pan, cook it some more.” You offer.

He tears his eyes away to look at you, “No, no that’s fine. Thank you. You don’t need to feed me you know, I’m sure it’ll be fine if I don’t-“

“Oh shut up, just come on and sit so we can eat.” You press the plate into his hands forcing him to take it.

The struggle comes when you move to the dinning table, you’ve sat down but he can’t manage to fit himself into the high-backed chair comfortably.

You look up at him, watching on as he shifts and grumbles in the chair, “How about we eat up in my room again? Might be more comfortable.” You suggest.

“Yeah, that might be better.” He submits, blush peeking through his scarred cheeks.

You collect both sets of plates and cutlery, heading back up to your room as he follows along.

You eye your crisp, white bedspread deciding against it and placing the plates on your dresser before moving to open the window, “Come on, let’s eat out here.”

He picks up the plates and motions for you to go ahead, you climb out the window and he passes them to you before squeezing out after you.

The two of you settle leaning back against your bedroom wall and you pass him his plate, resting yours on your knees. You dig in, watching as he eyes the food cautiously, poking at it with his fork. He slices off a tiny bit of steak, nibbling on it his eyes light up and he’s diving back in for more.

You grin to yourself, he seems to be enjoying the food, until he gets to the carrots. He stuffs one in his mouth before pulling a face and letting the half-chewed mush fall from his lips “Bleh…” he spits a little wiping at his tongue, your grin falters, “Nope. Sorry, no offence, but that tasted like the bottom of a dirty fireplace.”

“But the meat was ok, right? Maybe just eat that then.” You hate how desperate for approval you sound to yourself, but he’s rushing to reply.

“Oh, the meat was great, don’t know what you did but it’s better than anything I’ve had since… well, since… you know.”

“Huh, that’s weird… maybe you’re like a carnivore now, or something.” You shrug.

“Yeah, maybe…” he trails off sounding unconvinced.

Previous ~ Next

#eddie munson fic #vampire!eddie #vampire! eddie munson #eddie x reader #vampire!eddie x reader #vampire!au #post canon #post canon fic #eventual smut #eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie munson x reader #mentions of blood

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polyboros · 4 months

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2k23 writing in review: it's mostly sauces

JANUARY

“i’m going to be the one to kill you,” she tells them. “it’s mine. so don’t die, acevedo.” a smile, cheeky. “they’d have to try harder than this,” they answer. not quite a promise, but the look in their eyes is brighter than the lightning. she snorts, rolls over. their footsteps are soft when they leave.

from fine in fire and of frame, a blaseball au fic about luisjon (<3)

FEBRUARY

IF YOU COULD EVER DO ANYTHING AT ALL IF YOU COULD EVER DO anything at all if you could ever claw your way out of here and back into his body where he couldn’t take it back because he killed the only good thing in his life you’d kill him. you’d kill him you’d kill him you’d kill him and you will not let yourself forget that NOT LIKE YOU’VE FORGOTTEN THE REST OF YOU

from when the radio's gone (we've got to turn it back on), a sauces rewrite fic

MARCH

[The camera distorts. When the feed returns to normal, 10 has his hand crossed over his chest to rest on his shoulder, between streaks of red-brown stark on the white cloth, splayed in a mockery of fingers—as if he’s holding someone’s hand. There is something inexplicably soft in his expression.] 10: I’m working on it. Do you want to hear about it? RADIO: [STATIC] 10: It always went over his head too, don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it.

from the weighty click of her heart against my spine, a sauces horror au fic

APRIL

the books are heavy in evan’s hand, and he’s happy to drop the bag in the booth next to echo, sliding across from them as they start sorting through them. “that was quick,” they hum. they had said something similar, over the comms. evan shrugs it off like he did then, too. “it’s a day trip. wasn’t any trouble- i’ve been meaning to get some honey from there, anyway.” “they have honey?” with a little bit more prodding, evan launches into a description of the grounds around the library, punctuating his points with the occasional reminder that echo is more than capable of sneaking around (remember that event?) and that yes, he’d go with them if they did, they’re a bad influence (that gets a laugh). the waiter comes to take their drink orders, and evan pauses to finally flip through the menu.

from we are far too young and clever, a sauces fic about echo/evan, beloved crow-ocs

MAY

their next breath comes out icy over their crossed arms, shivers seizing their spine, and they decide not to ask. instead: “i’m not going to be the in-between for your- goddamn divorce.” it draws a laugh out of it. a piece of void peels out from between eli’s fingers, flicking back and forth in some gesture that could mean okay or that’s what you think or more laughter. they reach with their other hand and push it back into their palm, holding it there until it slips beneath their skin again.

from i made it late, didn't have a vision, a sauces fic about eli meeting the void's kid

JUNE

declan casts no shadow across the bushels of blooming pink-red flowers, nothing to protect them from the beating heat of the midday sun. for the rest of the day, the house will do that for them; the plants are carefully nestled in the place that gets the most shade, protected from the worst of the wind and light. eli joins him a few minutes later, wings extended. in their shadow, the flowers seem small. what’re these called? he tells them. oh, eli says. that’s kind of depressing. maybe. declan should’ve planted these before, instead of the sunflowers. they would’ve kept better down there, beneath that spire. but he planted the sunflowers. not really, he finally answers. too little, too late.

from fasciation, a declan shepherd of sauces fame character study

JULY

EV: cave diver? EV: you’re kidding. EL: what, like it’s hard? EV: i mean. EV: the skeletons? EV: and other things in there. EL: the skeletons EV: you know what i mean.

from it's just friends in here, a sauces chatfic between eli & evan

AUGUST

“this is a bad idea.” “i know,” the gardener says, indulgently. the shadows slide over his skin harmlessly, the chill more chastising than cutting. finally, they slide out into the light, facsimile of human arms pulling him close. “i know you do,” they sigh, thousands of bad ideas in a tattered trenchcoat. scars from their last mortal form scrape across his cheek. he leans into their hand fondly.

from collect, collect, collect my anchor, another sauces au fic

SEPTEMBER

lazarus writes them all neatly under present, and then pauses at past, looking back up. hestia meets their eyes again—her hands have moved from gripping her companions’ forearms to holding their hands, and she squeezes them once for reassurance before she speaks again. “past names- the first ones we don’t remember, for the most part. and the second…” another glance. the smallest of nods. “guy. guy shepherd. for- for all of us.” they don’t miss a beat in writing it down, again and again, and with each time they all seem to relax, tension loosening in pressed-together shoulders. “it’s nice to meet you,” lazarus says, and they don’t say again, they can’t say again, but that doesn’t matter so much.

from say i won't return, but i never learn, a sauces fic about guy & 5, two fragments of nemesis (and dearly beloved)

OCTOBER

“yo-ou’re go-o-onna trip and ea-at shit,” declan teases, swinging his legs. his perch atop the porch railing gives him the perfect view of echo walking across the grass, tentatively working their heels across the grass and dirt and errant roots. “i wa-ant a gi-i-irl with sho-oes that cut-” “you had plenty of faith in my abilities asking me to become your partner in crime,” echo retorts, drawing out the plenty with an exaggerated shake of their head. “just ‘cause i’m taking a bit to get used to it doesn’t mean shit. i’d love to see you try.” declan sticks his tongue out, kicking a foot out in echo’s direction. “ki-ickin’ bo-oth my heels off- do-on’t need ‘em!” “it’s not about need, dec, ‘s about looking good. obviously.”

from it's a shipwreck note for note, a sauces fic about echo & dec in the leadup to their first joint heist

NOVEMBER

eli huffs a laugh, gently brushing some hair behind his ear. “fish for compliments some more, you’ve almost got me hooked.” declan mimes a fishhook with one hand and loops it around their wrist, squishing their palm into his cheek. “oh- dork. seriously, though, i- you look really good. i like the motif? ‘s less grotesque than the corset usually is.” “i’m cu-ute,” he sings cheekily, beaming up at them. they roll their eyes and extract their hand from his grasp, wiping off lingering grime on their cargo shorts and glancing dec’s face over for any sign of dirt. none. “da-ance, dan-ce- co-ome and sha-are it with me?”

from GET INTO THE GROOVE, a sauces fic about eli accidentally stumbling right into dec's lovecore trick. honorary mention to the like seven other fics i wrote in november, six of which were a part of the saucesversary project (3 years!!)

DECEMBER

snow covers the ground in uneven slopes, the highest of which get up to declan’s knees; the crop fields are completely covered despite the best of their efforts to shovel it, most of which they’ve given up on by now. the greenhouse is the last bastion of plants, but every time they try and tend to it more than twice a day eli grabs them by the arm, and they can practically hear their dads—can’t go out to the greenhouse all the time, as if declan hasn’t changed an ounce from the little kid who used to sit in the window and sulk at the weather.

from let's go down to bremen, a sauces fic about declan reuniting with guycule on spectre with... some difficulties

END NOTE

this was a fucking insane year for original content, for me, and obviously i have to shoutout the sauces crew fur that because holy shit man. it's like sauces in here. there were a couple more fics i posted to ao3 i could've put on here but i didn't want to! as always if you're curious about sauces - talk to me about it. furever. my asks are always open i love infodumping. here's to a lovely 2024<3!!

#kbitycus talks #sauce smp #<- i might as well fucking tag that. 11/12 of my greatest hits ba-bey!!

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year

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I don’t know nearly enough about any of the stuff involved to go into any detail about this Gary Lineker stuff (I mean, I don’t know enough about Gary Lineker or Match of the Day or the specific BBC policies – I know about the UK government’s proposed policy changes on migrants and asylum seekers, I know it’s fucking awful and criticizing it is the right thing to do and blocking that is the wrong thing to do and I actually find it mildly heartwarming the middle of such fucked up bullshit to see that no one was willing to be a scab about it until the BBC had to back down), but I do know that this, for the record, is why I’m always so careful not to call anything “not political”. I might call some things less political than others, or not explicitly political, or not politicized.

But everything is political, and forgetting that leads to bad things like this. Like penalizing a guy for Tweeting about migrant policies because he’s not allowed to political, as though it’s actually possible to ban people from being “political”. As though sports aren’t political. I don’t know exactly what Gary Lineker does with his time, but I know that every aspect of the game of football, the way it’s run, and the way people talk about it on TV is political. So they can’t claim that this is about following their neutral, always-applied policy of banning everything political. What they’re doing is cherry picking certain political issues that aren’t allowed to be discussed, and certain political viewpoints that aren’t allowed to be expressed.

I think the last time I talked about this was when I made a post about “comedy washing” a while ago, and said I think comedy washing is a real thing and it’s bad, but we also have to pick a specific spot to draw the line about what is and isn’t okay. Because if comedy washing is just combining comedians with something political, then everything is comedy washing. Then Mark Watson comedy washed the cider, because the sale and consumption of alcohol is political, the public discourse around alcohol is political, the advertising industry is political, commercial broadcasting is political, performing labour for money is political, the fact that people think a man of that age/accent (whatever the hell the accent was at the time)/physical appearance will entice people to buy stuff is political, all of it is. And I don’t think Mark Watson “comedy washed” anything, I think everyone who gave him shit for that can fuck off (the weird thing about trying to discover 20-ish years of comedy all at the same time is sometimes I get mad about 10+-year-old feuds), I was just using it as an example to show how ludicrous it is to call anything “apolitical”.

So you can’t just say “don’t be political”. You have to say “These political issues are fine to talk about, and these ones aren’t.” And choosing what goes into what category is, in itself, a political choice. It is a political statement for the BBC to say you can have opinions on the inherently political issue of how professional football works, but not on the inherently political issue of migrant rights.

I’m watching The Last Leg right now, and Maisie Adam just said it’s wrong for the BBC to call this a political issue, because it’s not about politics, it’s about right and wrong. And I really like Maisie Adam and I see what she’s saying, her underlying point is a good one. But it’s factually wrong and I don’t think it’s good when either side says things like that.

We shouldn’t claim that moral issues are apolitical, we should acknowledge that lots of things in politics are about right and wrong. And therefore, people should be allowed to talk about them. And therefore, people who get “cancelled” for spewing right-wing bullshit should not get to claim to be minorities oppressed for their political opinions, because they sound a lot less sympathetic if they admit they’re being “cancelled” (which they’re not, but that’s not the point right now) for being on the wrong side of a moral issue. And therefore, people being on the decent side of a moral issue being silenced for giving their political opinions is not equivalent to that, because some things are right and some things are wrong, and that is political. Not all political issues are about morals (there are lots of political issues where you can be on many sides of it and you’re still morally fine), but all moral issues are political.

Okay, that’s my rant. All that’s happened is I’m watching The Last Leg, got annoyed about something that was said by a comedian I very much like (not that I’ll hold this against Maisie Adam in any way, what she said is a common way to look at it and I see what she was getting at), paused it, wrote a rant. Which will only be read by people who already know all of this and agree with it, and that’s fine, because I’ve had enough internet arguments with Jordan Peterson fans in my life. I don’t need to try any more to change people’s minds (it doesn’t work), I just needed to write this down. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

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Seeing White

Prompts: heyy idk if you still write merlin fics anymore but if you wanted to could you possibly write something where merlin suffers from some kind of physical ailment as a result of repressing his magic. i've read a couple fics with similar concepts and i love your works, so i was wondering if you'd be up to writing something like this? - anon

hiii i have a merlin prompt if you're interested! it would be really cute to see a fic where merlin can see things that other people can't as a result of his magic, and so he just stares off into the distance or just wanders off sometimes and the knights notice and are super confused about it!! - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: hallucinations--at least Merlin thinks they are, he represses his magic

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don’t care

Word Count: 3309

“I can never trust magic, not when it has taken so much from me.”

So Merlin hides his away, buries it so deeply within himself he can forget it was ever there. And there it stays, even as his hands start to slow, to ache, to burn with the pain of loss, mourning for something inherent.

And then a dragon comes looking for it.

The first time he sees her, he thinks he’s dreaming.

He’s in the courtyard, drawing water for Arthur’s bath—really, even though the prat rolls around in the mud every chance he gets with the knights, he doesn’t need that many baths—and shut up, Gwaine, not like that—when a flicker of white catches his eye.

He glances up. The bucket falls from his hands with a loud clang.

Aithusa.

White scales, white wings, the curve of her snout as she turns her head. She settles on the edge of the well and looks at him. Her eyes swirl as a soft chitter emerges from her throat.

She can talk? She can…wait, what is going on?

“What are you doing,” Merlin hisses, glances around frantically to make sure no one’s noticed her and called for the guards, “you can’t be here! They’re going to hurt you!”

Another woman begins to approach the well and Merlin tenses, mouth opening ready to defend Aithusa or say something—anything—

She gives him a small nod and lowers her bucket into the well, drawing water with nary a glance at the white dragon perched near her elbow. Merlin glances from her to Aithusa and back. The dragon simply shuffles, still looking at him pointedly. The woman finishes drawing the water and bids him good day. Merlin just manages to nod back as Aithusa lifts her head to sniff the air.

Oh, he realizes faintly, I must be dreaming.

Yes, now that he looks around, the edges of the world are a little fuzzy. It’s hard to focus on them, his eyes slide right back to Aithusa and what’s in front of him. People are smiling a bit more than they normally would, their voices a tad more muffled. Something keeps him here, near the well, and yes, that’s right. He’s dreaming. He’s dreaming that he can see Aithusa here.

But why? Why would he dream of her now? He’s dreamed of her before, surely, and his chest aches at the memories of watching her fly off into the darkness only to hear her scream.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand, “I’m sorry I’ve not taken care of you.”

But she pulls away from his hand and snorts at him. Another jot of pain runs through his fingers and he pulls them back, rubbing absentmindedly. He scoffs.

“Figures that even when I’m asleep my hands won’t stop hurting,” he mumbles, looking up at Aithusa again, “at least your wings look better.”

She snorts again, before glancing at the well and the bucket. Merlin sighs.

“I know. I should get back to work.”

Aithusa thumps her front paws on the stone well and glares at him.

“…what?” He looks dumbly at her. “I can’t—what do you want me to do?”

No amount of pointing and snorting and disappointed looks can convey what she wants, it seems and finally, she takes off in a swirl of wings. Merlin can’t help reaching after her, only for the pain to numb his hand before he can outstretch it. He collapses onto the well, still staring at the sky.

“Merlin? Merlin!”

He blinks. He looks up. Arthur is coming toward him across the courtyard. He struggles to his feet and dips the bucket into the well.

“Merlin, what’re you doing? What’s taking you so long?” Arthur puts his hands on his hips. “I had half a mind to send Leon out after you.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so much of a prat, I wouldn’t need so much water to fill your tub.”

He receives a cuff to the head that’s too affectionate to hurt, but he winces anyway when his hands refuse to grip the bucket. Arthur plucks it effortlessly from him, eyes too worried for the glare to work either.

“I’m making sure you get your exercise.”

“In what, putting up with you?”

Arthur just rolls his eyes and starts back toward the castle. “Perhaps if you worked on your chores as much as you do your wit, I’d run out of things for you to do.”

“Then you’d just make up more things.”

Merlin can’t help glancing over his shoulder at the well. Could he really have fallen asleep there? In the middle of the day, on those hard stone steps, in the middle of his chores.

He must’ve done, how else would Aithusa have been here?

The second time he sees her, he thinks he’s cursed.

It’s been a long trip. Merlin lifts his foot from the mud and gears when his boot deigns to remain firmly in the sodden ground. He grunts, his arms out for balance as he wiggles and manages to get his foot back into the boot. Not his most elegant display, certainly.

When no snickers or quips fly his way, his shoulders slump. They’re all exhausted. Gwaine is struggling with his cloak and brambles a few paces away, Leon is doing his best to get Percival’s wound patched up so they can make it safely through the mud, and Elyan trails after Lancelot with the pile of firewood.

“I don’t know how much good this is going to be,” he grunts as they finally set it down, “the ground is waterlogged and so is the wood.”

“We need to start a fire,” Arthur reminds, but even his normal pratlyness has dimmed, “even if it’s only a little one.”

Merlin glances at the place they’ve laid the wood. He winces. They’ve done their best to find the driest spot of ground, but it’s still squishing around the wood and the scraps of kindling they’ve managed to drag up from the surrounding foliage look…dubious at best. Lancelot crouches down next to it and tries with the flint and steel.

“Damn,” he mutters as he stands back up a few minutes later with no success, “guess we’d better find something else.”

His gaze rests on Merlin and unbidden, his hands start to ache again. His cheeks flush and he turns away, fiddling with the straps on the bag instead. He can’t. He knows he can’t. Lancelot knows he can’t.

But if he doesn’t, this night may turn from miserable to dangerous very, very quickly.

And a flutter of wings makes his heart almost stop.

Trying to be as subtle as possible, he turns around, heart in his throat.

There, perched over the dry stack of wood, is Aithusa. She looks at him, bone-white amidst the decrepit and rotting trees, and rears up, exposing her powerful chest. His breath catches as the knights begin to come toward the campsite.

No, no, girl, you have to leave, he begs silently, trying to stumble forward, you’re going to get hurt, I won’t be able to stop them, please, don’t do this!

Aithusa pays him no mind—and why would she? What cause does she have to believe in the good in him?—and simply stands proud over the collection of wood. Fear races through Merlin’s veins as he scrabbles for handholds and footholds to reach her before the knights do.

His hands cry out as he hauls himself upwards, but he doesn’t care. Nor does he care for the salt on his cheeks as he struggles toward her. Aithusa simply watches.

“Please,” he whispers, “please, girl, you have to go, you’ll be hurt, please!”

Don’t make me watch you die in front of me too.

The sharp sound of a sword against a whetstone. His eyes widen and he lunges forward—

“Merlin?” A pair of hands catch him as he almost stumbles into the firewood. He looks up to see Leon eyeing him in concern. “Careful, now, don’t hurt yourself.”

Where—

Merlin looks around, but there’s no sign of her. No white dragon, no chitters, no rustling of wings. But she was just here, she was so real—

“Merlin,” and that’s Arthur now, “Merlin, look at me.”

Merlin turns, his gaze meeting Arthur’s. He tries to look serious and stern but it falls as he takes in Merlin’s frantic expression. He exchanges a quick glance with Leon before stepping closer.

“What’s wrong,” he asks, lowering his voice, “did you see something?”

A flash of white out of the corner of his eye and he whips his head around—

No Aithusa. But he does see a broad flat rock, dried out by the last of the day’s sun, that’s big enough to set up a campfire. He points at it with a shaking, aching finger.

“There,” he mumbles, “we can—it should be dry enough.”

Arthur follows his point, ordering the others to gather the wood and move there as he glances back at Merlin. He reaches out and claps him on the shoulder.

“Not just for hats, is it?”

“Shows what you know,” he shoots back halfheartedly, “prat.”

“Idiot.”

Leon holds onto him a moment longer before calling his name again. “Are you sure you’re alright? You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

Merlin stops. A ghost…

That’s it.

He looks down at his hands. A bit grubby and scraped, but nothing that would merit the bone-weary ache seeping through them as he tries to move. He looks up again at the spot where Aithusa had spread her wings, as if daring a knight to run her through.

He swallows heavily and shakes Leon off, helping to gather the rest of the supplies as Elyan finally gets a fire going. He settles down with his share of dried meat and can’t taste any of it.

He watches the smoke and thinks he can see wings flapping in the breeze.

Look, oh mighty warlock, it taunts as it blows itself stinging into his eyes, look at how little you can do, look what good your power has brought you. What good is it? What good are you?

His hands hurt too much to rip any more of the meat. Tears roll down his cheeks as he stares into the blinding smoke.

“Merlin!”

He turns. Lancelot looks at him, reaching out to pat away his tears with gentle hands.

“What are you looking at?” He brushes away another. “The smoke isn’t good for your eyes, you know.”

He does know. He says as much. He doesn’t answer the question of what he was looking at.

He’s learned his lesson about trying to explain curses.

The third time he sees her, she’s real.

He’s learned to ignore the flutters of white and the rustling of wings now. The curse of Aithusia is just another burden his shoulders bear, as is the constant ache in his hands as he opens doors, dresses in the morning, lets them hang limply by his sides. The knights are growing worried, he knows, they treat him more gently now, and as much as he wishes he could snap at them that he’s not some fragile flower, he won’t admit that he thrills at the soft way they make sure he has to do as little work as possible when he follows Arthur out to the training grounds.

Speaking of Arthur, he’s noticed too. He’s made Merlin eat with him in the morning—probably something he went to Gaius about, if Merlin had to guess. He watches Merlin, now, too, not that he ever really stops watching Merlin—yes, he can see him, he’s not nearly as discrete as he thinks he is—but it’s more obvious now. Every so often when Arthur’s working at his desk, Merlin will hear the soft scratchings of the quill cease. And he looks over and Arthur’s just staring at him, an inscrutable expression on his face.

He dodges the questions when he can, answers as honestly as possible when he can’t.

But everything gets worn out of him eventually, and he has to collapse on a stone bench in an abandoned courtyard, just to stop for one second.

And of course, that’s when a shadow falls across him.

He looks up and barely blinks at the sight of Aithusa in front of him. The dragon snorts, ambling closer, wings tucked close against her sides. His hands twitch with renewed ache.

“I don’t know what you want,” he murmurs, half-talking to himself, “I don’t know what else I can do.”

She snorts again and nudges at his hands.

Wait, she nudges his hands?

He blinks, slowly turning his hands palm up, trembling with the strain of it. Aithusa rumbles low in her throat and does it again. He gasps as her tongue slides roughly across his palms.

The curse must be getting worse if I can actually feel her.

As if she can hear his thoughts, the dragon stops licking his hands and raises her head, glaring at him, before pressing her snout against his forehead. Her scales are smooth and thrum with her magic and it makes him gasp.

“Merlin?”

Arthur. That’s Arthur. He should respond. But Aithusa is warm and her magic holds him still and he’s just so tired.

“Merlin, where—“

The way Arthur’s voice cuts off sharply is enough to make him turn and look. Arthur stares at a spot just over his head.

“Merlin,” he says with practiced calm, “would you like to explain why there’s a dragon in front of you?”

Wait.

“You…you can see her too?”

Several expressions flicker across Arthur’s face at once before settling on something that looks like fond exasperations. “Yes, Merlin, I can see her. Have you always had a pet dragon or is this some new stray you’ve decided to take in?”

“She’s not my pet,” Merlin bites out, squeezing his eyes shut, “she’s not—she—“

Aithusa rumbles softly and footsteps come closer.

“Okay, okay, she’s not your pet,” Arthur’s voice says quietly, “but what is she?”

“She’s real,” Merlin mumbles, “she’s here and she’s real.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“She’s real…”

“So you’ve said.” A note of concern colors Arthur’s voice now. “Is there a reason why she shouldn’t be?”

“She can’t be real, she can’t be here, it’s not safe…”

“What do you mean, Merlin, what do you mean it isn’t safe?”

“It’s not safe,” he insists stubbornly, “it’ll never be safe here, not for her, not for—“

He claps a hand over his mouth, despite the pain flaring brighter. Aithusa growls, nudging his hand with her snout. Arthur looks between the two of them.

“Not safe for her? She’s a dragon, Merlin, what do you mean it’s not safe for her?”

Aithusa pays Arthur no mind, instead nudging insistently at Merlin’s hand. Merlin won’t move. He can’t. He almost ruined everything. He won’t ruin it, not now.

But then strong and sure fingers are prying his hand away from his mouth and more grab his chin and turn it.

“Why isn’t it safe,” Arthur asks, his voice barely above a whisper, “why not?”

“She’s magic.” He swallows heavily. “She’s magic, Arthur.”

He spares a glance at the dragon. “Yes, and in the time she’s been here, all she’s done is lick your hands and rest her head against yours. Hardly the most dangerous thing in the world to me.”

As if in agreement, Aithusa nudges Merlin’s hands again. He winces at the jostling of his already aching hands and Arthur sighs.

“Your hands still hurt, then?”

Merlin’s head snaps up. “You knew?”

“Merlin, I’ve seen you do far more work than any servant should be able to do without complaints, and then all of a sudden you couldn’t lift a nightshirt without wincing. Yes, I noticed.”

Aithusa growls again, nudging his hands insistently.

“Gaius said you hadn’t said anything, so out with it. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Merlin says immediately, much to the disbelief of both the dragon and Arthur, “I didn’t do anything.”

As those words leave his mouth, Aithusa suddenly pushes her head hard against his hands.

He gasps.

Magic, his magic, the magic he buried so deep he didn’t think he would ever have the compulsion to reach for it again, surges to the surface as her magic reaches deep into his hands. The world glows gold for a moment before he blinks awake, finding himself slumped against Arthur with a dragon’s head purring in his lap.

The pain is gone.

“W-what—“

“Oh, you idiot,” Arthur breathes from next to him, “did you try to repress your magic?”

What?

Wait, what?

“Yes, I know you have magic,” Arthur says irritably, “you weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. The knights know too, even though I suspect you told at least some of them. That’s why your hands have been hurting, you absolute buffoon!”

Merlin just blinks helplessly up at him.

“Oh, Merlin, you are useless sometimes.”

“But—your father—the ban—“

“But you, and the knights, and the dragon,” Arthur responds, still holding him as he scolds him, “she’s probably just as cross as I am, isn’t she? That you’ve been repressing your magic like an idiot?”

Aithusa snuffles in agreement and Merlin is so, so confused.

Arthur just sighs, gaze softening as he cups Merlin’s face.

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says quietly, “you’re an idiot, and you need to never do that ever again. You’re hurting yourself.”

“B-but—why aren’t you mad?”

“I am mad,” Arthur says, “I’m furious at how much you’ve hurt yourself for no good reason.”

“No good—“ Merlin struggles away from him— “I live in Camelot! I’m a sorcerer who lives in a place where magic is illegal!”

“And you used to flaunt that with every chance you got,” Arthur responds, “until something changed. What was it?”

“You wanted it to!”

Arthur freezes.

Merlin presses his lips tightly together and turns away. He hunches his shoulders. “You…you hate magic. You told me you did. So…so…”

“Oh, Merlin,” he hears from behind him, “out of all the times you chose to listen to me…”

“I listen to you.”

“Not enough, it seems.” And there are warm arms around him that guide him back to a strong chest and a dragon’s snuffle. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Not if you’re going to execute me.”

“I could never.” Arthur holds him firmly. “I could never.”

Aithusa’s head bumps their shoulders.

“I think your dragon would hunt me down if I tried.” A snort of approval and Arthur’s chuckle. “See? It’s safe.”

He doesn’t want to believe it. He can’t believe it. It’s not—it can’t be real. It can’t be. Not like this.

But then Aithusa laps at his hands again and—and—

Oh.

With trembling hands, he reaches out and lets a soft golden glow dance along the scales of the dragon’s snout. She purrs under the attention and his magic surges.

“There you are,” Arthur mumbles as Merlin’s magic runs free for the first time in too long, “I missed you.”

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #fic #dragonbabbles

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