#icy scribes
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What's in a Name
Summary: This would be Wiatt's first lunch joining his boyfriend (BOYFRIEND!!!) at his usual lunch spot with his usually lunch mates, which is to say that he was re-meeting Lewis's best friends with the context of dating Lewis. This was basically make or break it as far as Wiatt was concerned. Just had to make a good impression. No pressure. Right? Riiiiight.
(Also available on AO3)
Wiatt was nervous. This was his first time seeing having lunch with Lewis as his boyfriend. What's more, this was his first time having lunch with his boyfriend and his boyfriend's best friends. Wiatt knew how important the two friends were to Lewis. One was practically a sister that Lewis had grown up with and the other rounded out their energetic ideas and was a kind glue that smoothed out the edges and made the three closer than the two were before. He treasured these friendships and if either of them thought he wasn't right for Lewis or just didn't like him, well, a boyfriend of two days vs a pair of best friends for over a year? He was pretty sure who Lewis would choose, and honestly? Was Wiatt even that much? What did Lewis even see in him?
He had to make a good impression. He had been introduced before, but something about today felt more real. Oh, fuck! What if he got their names wrong? What if he forgot them? Asking them to repeat their names after he had known of them as long as he had known of Lewis? He was going to seem like such a careless jerk. Wiatt nervously jiggled the cord of his headphones and winced at the slight static sound it caused. He would have to put Coldplay on pause in a moment, but he let the tempo of 42 guide the beat of his footsteps as he scanned the area for a sign of blonde, brown, or orange hair.
Eventually, he spotted Lewis's beanie and made his way to one of the blue mesh metal tables with an umbrella. Next to Lewis was a girl with long brown hair. She was munching on baby carrots from a purple striped lunchbox with the Cheshire Cat on it. What a shifty character to pair with someone eating in a shifty way. Just carrots? Plain? No ranch? No hummus? As if sensing his judgment, she plucked a grape out of the bag and took a bite into another carrot. What a monster!
Next to the food fiend was a boy with slightly unkempt red hair and sunken green eyes. Wiatt's Wikipedia-scavenging heart went out the boy he clocked as a fellow insomniac.
Lewis looked up from his cafeteria soggy spaghetti and meat sauce and a beaming smile lit up his face. That smile could give solar power a run for its money, but instead it sent a charge to the butterflies in Wiatt's stomach, especially when his lips parted to sing out his name, "Wiatt! Darling! Come, join us."
At the sound of his harmonious voice, Lewis's friends looked up at the lunchtime interloper. Right! This was the make it or break it moment. The brunette was closer, so he offered his hand to her.
"Hi, Sara." Her name was a bit easier to remember because after their introduction he had the song “Que Sera Sera” stuck in his head.
Sara didn't take the offered hand. She just stared at him, as if challenging him to try and mess with her. Fair enough. He didn't need to talk to her. Let her resume her food crimes.
Time to greet the other friend. Right. His name had something related to plants, right? Oakley? Ash? Forrest?
“Wiatt!” The other boy exclaimed. Then he made a face like he was worried he said something wrong. Or maybe he was worried he said it too loud? Well, Wiatt would just up the energy and try to calm this guy’s nerves. Besides, he remembered the boy’s name. They were in World History together.
“Hey! Good to see you, Basil!” Wiatt cheered and gave his own smile.
Basil took the offered hand and smiled back, then paused.
“Yeah! Wait.”
Sara started to cackle. She leaned over and gave the redhead a noogie. “He sure is! It’s my bestest buddy, Basil.”
“Saaaraaaaa,” the boy whined.
At the same time, Lewis cleared his throat, stood up, and guided Wiatt to sit next to him. “That is Oliver, Darling.”
Oh. Oh. Oh no.
Wiatt covered his face. “Oh my god. Oliver! I am so sorry! Oh no. Hnnnngh!”
Lewis chuckled and pat Wiatt’s back. “It’s quite alright, Darling. We could tell you were nervous.”
“You sit next to me in World History.”
“I am really sorry!”
Sara took a breath to calm her laughter. “He’ll forgive you, don’t worry. I, however, will not let you live this down.”
“Noted.” Wiatt deadpanned.
“For the record, you got my name right, at least. But I am telling you now it is spelled S-A-R-A. No H.”
“Got it.”
“Do you want me to write it down? I can get a pen.”
“If I offer half my cookie will you forgive me?” Wiatt sighed.
“You may buy my silence for the moment.” Sara agreed cordially.
“I was asking Oliver.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean Basil?”
“I really don’t mind. Wiatt.” Oliver finally spoke up. Wiatt held out half the cookie to him nonetheless. Oliver gamely took the treat, broke it into thirds, and passed a piece each to Lewis and Sara.
“Aww! A sweet from a sweetheart!” Sara cooed in thanks. She then retrieved a bag of…more grapes??? from her lunchbox and passed the plastic bag to Oliver.
“You just don’t want to eat the olives,” Lewis chided
“Yes, and?” Sara retorted
Oliver looked at the bag, smirked for a moment, and held the bag out to Wiatt. “Want some? As a pneumatic device?”
Wiatt let out a nervous chuckle and plucked one of the offered namesakes. “Thanks.”
From there, things went a bit more smoothly. Aside from the occasional teasing from Sara that petered out after a while, the name mishap was forgotten for a while. At least, it seemed to be.
-Around a year later-
The three best friends looked over their new employees. To think, they had employees , now! People were relying on them for instructions and paychecks. The nerves!
Oliver was surprised to see some familiar faces. It felt weird seeing people he knew from school when they were now in a different city. Sara leaned over to inspect the list of names and photos to go with the names.
“Oh, no way! Lewis?” That was Andrew. He was in a study group with Sara as well as the art club Lewis had to drop once they started the project that led to them founding the Dreamworld facility.
“It’s good to see you, Darling.” Lewis greeted.
“Is it just you or is…Oh! Hi, Sara.” Andrew was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Then he turned to look at Oliver. “I didn’t get to know you as well as Lewis and Sara. Oh! But now I have the chance to know you more, too! I look forward to working with you, Basil!”
“Oh, um,” Oliver was caught off guard by Andrew’s enthusiasm, but his words registered after a moment. Oliver let his face fall into his palm, “Darn it, Wiatt.”
Sara patted his shoulder. “Not even here and the plus one is still causing trouble,” Sara laughed.
#Welcome to Dreamworld#WTDW#Welcome to Dreamworld Fanfiction#Wiatt Nicholson#Lewis Bright#Sara Covetman#Oliver Acrimony#Andrew Owens (He is mentioned at the end)#Icy Scribes#This is based on something that happened with my brother and his friend
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Okay, to counteract all my complaining, here are some (lore friendly) mods that I just like a lot (no animals, people, weapons/armors, mesh/texture replacers, etc. because there's too many and it gets boring.)
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Ghosts of the Deathbells: adds a really rare, somber event to picking a deathbell flower.
Falmeroon: adds Snow Elf ruins to some remote edges of the map. I've made an unofficial SE port here.
Snow Whale Bones: adds the remains of Snow Whales in some mountainous areas (iffy canon but sorry they are Cool.)
Windmills of Skyrim: adds windmills with unique, custom-painted sails to farms.
Scarecrows of Skyrim: adds scarecrows to farms.
Scribes of Skyrim: makes books and notes use a variety of typefaces (any fellow Pentiment fans out there?)
The Old Ways-Nordic Religion: adds totems representing the Nordic pantheon around Skyrim. Has patches for the next recommendation.
The Great Towns/Villages series: overhauls the smaller, worldspace towns in a really cool way, includes voice-acted NPCs. Personally, I like Kynesgrove the best because it actually adds to the lore about the Nordic pantheon. For Shor's Stone, I recommend this mod as well.
Redbag's Rorikstead: I like this mod over Great Village's version because the houses have sod roofs and I'm a sucker for sod roofs.
Capital Windhelm Expansion: adds some really thoughtful lore touches (Dunmer refugees outside the walls, an Arena, and a cool vampire quest)
Relic of Dawnstar: adds a Gehenoth skull to the White Hall (requires Cities of the North), inspired by the lore of the Travels game
Environs series: thoughtful additions that makes certain places change over time.
WiZKid's mods: especially Lund's Hut, Lively Farms, Icy Windhelm, Pinewatch, Hall of the Dead Stained Glass Windows, and Pavo's House. Sepolcri is also pretty good but loses immersion points for using celtic cross gravestones. You can pry Lanterns of Skyrim II from my cold, dead hands, though. Lux? Idk her, LoSII is my bestie.
Fancy Sleeping Tree Replacer: the Sleeping Tree is supposed to be a remnant of the sentient trees of the flying city of Umbriel (from the novels.) It should be weird, is what I'm saying, and this mod makes it alien and beautiful.
Unique Culture Riverwood: a mod that gives Riverwood its own style of farmhouse and a little more personality. The author has also made a mod for Falkreath.
Immersive World Encounters: adds more and edits World Encounters, including encountering faction NPCs out and about (ex. the Companions outside of Whiterun doing Companion-y things in the wilderness).
Glorious Doors of Skyrim: adds some really cool doors. 'nuff said.
Redbag's Dragonreach: adds some unique flair to Jarl Ballin's crib.
Cultured Orc Furniture: replaces generic furniture in Orc Strongholds with custom furniture.
Lavinia's Memorial: adds some gifts from her grieving parents to the little girl's grave in Falkreath. Ouch.
Nocturnal Moths: adds moths that spawn around lanterns at night.
Moons and Stars: fixes the positions of the stars and moons, as well as making moon phases consistent.
DK's Realistic Nord Ships: replaces Skyrim's ships with some gorgeous new models.
Morgenstern's Mushroom Circles: adds more fairy rings in the wilderness. Delightful!
Bloodmoon Brodir Grove: makes the grove in Solstheim a little more like it was in the Morrowind DLC. The mod author also has more mods that bring Bloodmoon details and locations to Solstheim.
Ships of the Horizon: does what it says on the tin.
EVG Animation Variance: the whole animation series by Everglaid is nice (haven't tried Traversal yet, but that is some incredible technology) but I especially like this one for the old people animations
jasperthegnome's houses: these are SO cozy and comfy.
Arctic- Frost Effects Redux: makes frost spells have cooler effects (including 3D ice spikes)
Northern Roads- Let Me Guess Someone Stole Your Sweetroads: a plugin that cuts down on Northern Roads, removing all the landscape changes and bridges and just keeping the clutter. Way more compatible than the original mod.
Skyrim Bridges: this is my favorite bridge mod. There are many, but I like this one best.
Edit: forgot two tiny mods in my original post:
Nightcaller Temple Unique Shrine of Mara: replaces the generic shrine with a wooden shrine Erandur carved
Broken Tower Redoubt Unique Shrine of Dibella: similar to the above mod, but Reachmen carved this one.
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The Custody of a Hindrance
Al-Haitham x gender neutral! Reader
567 words
Fluff?
Summary: Scenarios with a minuscule chance of happening are still scenarios that can happen but Al-Haitham makes sure you never have to worry about it.
Al-Haitham’s significant other once joked about how, if they were to ever break up, then one of things they’d have to decide on was ‘Who would get custody of Kaveh?’ Which earns a shout of annoyance from the blonde architect. “I’m not a pet!” But as Kaveh goes on about how Sumeru would sooner be engulfed by snowy weather than see the Grand Scribe break up with his s/o, Al-Haitham’s thinking does wander off to contemplate the extremely low chances of the two of you breaking up.
He reaches a quick fact; right now he sees little to no reason as to why he would even want to break up with you. You have different work schedules, hobbies and personalities but you both have made the effort to rearrange calendars to spend time together, and to share likes and dislikes about and with each other.
But if you were to ever meet someone you loved more than him… Al-Haitham quickly moves on to another part of the new concept. He doesn’t dwell too long on the division of possessions or your living situations, you have a lovely salary that could fetch you a house the same size as his without having to scrimp on good furniture. But he considers the social aspect. Al-Haitham could care less about ‘friends’ or mutual acquaintances but you…
He watches you from his seat, eyes peeking over the pages of his book as you return your concentration to your paperwork, unaware that your lover was contemplating a scenario with nearly a miniscule percent chance of happening.
Even though Al-Haitham tends to steer clear from doing pointless socialization, he knows the harsh bite of gossip and rumors could lead to unfavorable situations.
And he would never want that to happen to you, no matter the status of your relationship.
Al-Haitham wants you to live free of doubt, fear and hindrances. And he promises himself, if you two were to ever break up, no atter how close to zero te odds were, then he would make himself the villain of every horrible rumor surrounding you two. He would make sure the glares and annoyed expressions were directed him instead of you.
For all the joy and love you brought into his life, it was only fair he makes sure you continue to lead a happy and stress free life.
Al-Haitham frowns as he realizes one more thing.
“Kaveh is right,” says Al-Haitham and you and Kaveh look up from your respective workspaces. “Sumeru would sooner freeze over and turn into an icy land before we ever break up.”
“Did he just say ‘I’m right-“
“Also,” Al-Haitham interrupts Kaveh, which leads the blond to make an annoyed expression. “Even though there is an extremely low—no, there is a near to zero possibility of us ever breaking up, if that scenario ever arises…”
Al-Haitham strares at your wide eyed expression his shoulders tense. “Then I will take custody of Kaveh.”
“Pfft-Ahahaha!” Your laughter leads to a small twitch of Al-Haitham’s lips.
“Al-Haitham,” you wipe tears from your eyes. “You actually thought about this?”
“And who are you to decide who gets ‘custody’ of me? I’m not a child damnit!” Kaveh protests.
As you kiss Al-Haitham’s cheek for making you laugh so hard, the Scribe of the Sumeru Akademiya makes another promise to himself.
To ensure you live a life enriched with love, happiness and as little hindrances as possible.
#sorry Kaveh#al-haitham x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x y/n#genshin x reader#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact alhaitham
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“Beata Maria.”
What a wonderful blessing upon this hopelessly sinful world.
... What's this?
A gathering of powerful and prideful individuals can only spell trouble.
Sitting at a table, surrounded by them, exerted an immense pressure upon the room. The air seemed to thin, made icy and oppressive by those in attendance, representatives of their own domains. The dorm leaders were like kings perched upon their thrones, prepared to cross words or swords at a moment's notice. (For what it was worth, at least Kalim was a spot of sunshine in the otherwise strained space.)
Raven had been scribing for these occasions for months now, and still hadn't become fully accustomed to the atmosphere. Inevitably, some petty squabble, underhanded comment, or personal vendetta would disrupt the proceedings. If they were lucky, they'd escape with just some unresolved tension in the air. She took care to leave those instances out of the meeting notes.
Today, the attention was directed toward the front of the room. The headmaster consulted a packet as he crowed on.
“The final topic on our agenda is... Next week, we will be hosting an important guest from Noble Bell College to discuss future joint events. As a show of good will, I would like their representative to be granted a tour of our campus. This tour guide will then also serve as their chaperone for the duration of our guest's stay to ensure that they are comfortable and that all of their questions are promptly answered."
A hand shot up automatically.
"Yes, Rosehearts-kun?"
"If that is the case, sir, then I believe it would be wise for you to serve as this tour guide," the redhead suggested. "You are knowledgeable about our school's history, layout, staff, and curriculum. Therefore, you easily fulfill your own requirements."
There was a round of murmurs and nods from around the table.
"No, no!" Crowley insisted with the shake of his head. "I have many other duties to tend to as headmaster! What's more, it would be more fitting that someone on our guest's level—a fellow student—be the guide! This will better bolster a sense of camaraderie between the student bodies of our schools!"
... In other words, you don't wish to do the work yourself, Raven sighed, already having seen through her guardian's excuses. From the grimaces on everyone else's face, she deduced that they, too, had suspected as much.
Azul laced his fingers together and surveyed the room. "Well then, do we have any volunteers from amongst ourselves?"
"Pass." Leona leaned back in his chair with a grimace. "I'm not up for kissing ass."
"May I take that to mean that you are avaliable, Leona-san?" Azul pressed, still smiling.
"I said, pass," he snarled. "Don't make me repeat myself again."
"... Point taken. Anyone else?"
"I would offer, but... There is an unbirthday party scheduled the day of their arrival. I don't believe I would be able to fully commit myself to chaperoning our guest," Riddle confessed. "I cannot override the rules written by the Queen of Hearts."
"I, as well, am preoccupied. I'm to shoot for a magazine spread after class," Vil added, tucking a finger under his chin. "What about you, Azul? This is a prime opportunity to... as Leona so crudely put it, curry favor with another school of magic. I can't imagine that you wouldn't immediately jump at the chance."
"My, to think that my upperclassmen think so little of my intentions..." Azul sniffled dramatically—an innocent act. "Unfortunately, I have a prior arrangement to oversee at the Mostro Lounge during the visiting period. I would otherwise happily accept this honor!"
"Of course you would," Riddle and Vil said at once.
"Hey, hey, guys! It's no problem! I can show them around! I've done it plenty for our guests back home," Kalim chirped, leaping out of his seat.
"Can Jamil-san confirm that your schedule is clear?" Azul inquired, eyebrow quirked. "It would be a stain upon my... excuse me, I mean Night Raven College's reputation if we were unable to safely secure this relationship."
"Huh? Well, sure I can ask him."
Kalim produced a phone dressed up in a gold case studded with gemstones. He typed up a text message, and received a reply just as fast. His face slowly fell. "Uh-oh, uh..."
"Yes?" Azul prompted.
"Jamil says it's a no-go. He has to tutor me for a big midterm exam on Monday..." Kalim quickly perked up again. "But it's okay! We still have Idia, right?"
"L-Leave me out of this!!" came Idia's stuttering voice from a floating tablet. "I-I didn't ask to pick up a side quest that no one else wants to fulfill! I want nothing to do with this, do you hear me?!"
"Hah!" Leona let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You think that wimpy daikon radish sprout can keep himself together long enough to entertain an esteemed guest?"
"I-It's true!" Idia agreed. "I-I spend most of my time trapped inside my room! I've barely stepped outside to see the light of day or the campus for myself! I'm super anti-social and hate irl people!! Th-There's no way I can socialize or give a halfway decent tour!!"
"Willfully talking yourself down to that extent... Have you no dignity left?" Vil groaned. "Safe to say, we cannot rely on a man with no confidence for a matter as important as this."
"Then all that's left is..."
Everyone's eyes collectively drifted to the seventh and unoccupied dorm leader seat at the table.
"Great. It's decided, then. It'll be the lizard's gig," Leona smirked, seemingly satisfied with the outcome.
"Is it really okay to make the decision without Malleus here?" Kalim asked—the only one truly concerned about him.
"No, this is unacceptable," Riddle pointed out. "There tends to be miscommunication when information is relayed to Malleus. We cannot afford such mistakes if we wish to forge a healthy, sustainable relationship with Noble Bell College. We must entrust this task to an individual who is punctual, polite, welcoming, detail-oriented, and an eloquent speaker."
In this pool of candidates? Good luck with that. Raven scrawled down Riddle's last remarks, dotting the period with pessimism.
"Oh dear, oh dear," Crowley fretted to himself. "What to do? We've already run through you boys and no one is quite free or suitable for the role..."
"What if we were to put out a call to action, headmaster?" Raven offered, glancing up from her parchment. "I know that our students aren't the most open to extending their hands, but perhaps someone will volunteer for the task if you offer some kind of compensation."
"Oogh... The compensation would have to be fairly generous to spark interest and enthusiasm this close to the visit..." Crowley lamented. "Woe is me!! Wherever can I find such a magnanimous individual on such short notice?!"
"There, there. It will sort itself out, you'll see." Raven smiled sympathetically and patted her uncle on the back. "If you'd like, I can get started by drafting the document for your approval."
"My, how very kind of you, my dear!! That's what I like to hear!! Where would we be without your astute…”
The headmaster's gushing suddenly quieted, his once-panicked expression settling into thoughtfulness. Crowley's beady, golden gaze bore right into his child.
"... Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I think," Crowley said slowly, "we've found the answer to our prayers. The perfect person for the job, in fact!"
"... You have?"
"Dear, sweet Raven-kun," Crowley drawled in a singsong, "my adorable niece, apple of my eye, sweetest of songbirds—”
A smile grew on the headmaster's lips. Heat from all corners of the meeting room concentrated on her. Collective realization.
Raven puffed with indignation. "You are NOT seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Uncle!! I'm here to keep records, not to fill in for the duties of the dorm leaders!”
"Yet you've been present for all of our meetings, Raven-san," Azul cooed. "You are privy to all the same information that we are, and have already proven yourself to be reliable when it comes to your work. I also understand that you're quite the student among the first years."
"Where did you hear that from?!"
"I have my sources." Azul raised his voice to address the other dorm leaders. "Gentlemen, don't you agree that Raven-san would be a most wonderful choice for the task at hand?"
"Heh, so this is where we're going with this?" A dry chuckle escaped Leona. "Fine by me."
"She would be our best option," Vil added. "Her manners are passable. She presents herself well enough."
"A-As long as it's not me! I'm up for anyone else!!"
"Azul..." Riddle frowned disapprovingly. "While I can't say I condone your methods, it seems we're left with little choice in this matter."
"Gosh, it's so nice of you to step up for us, Raven!" Kalim graciously beamed.
"W-Wait just a second here! I haven't agreed to anything yet!! Don’t I get a say in this?!” Raven protested, abruptly rising. She shuddered upon feeling a clawed hand clap her back.
“Our hopes are riding on you, Raven-kun!!” Crowley cheerily declared. “Go out there and make our Night Raven College look good!!”
"I'm so glad we came to an agreement." Azul's lip curled back into a triumphant smirk. "May I be the first to offer my congratulations? Ah, and I think I speak for all of us when I say... best of luck with handling our special guest."
"Wow, that's amazing, Raven!! Congratulations!!" Kalim squealed, his eyes sparkling with genuine joy.
"Yeah, congrats," Leona yawned. "Knock'm dead, canary."
"Congratulations, potato. Be on your best behavior now."
"Raven, congratulations. I expect you to perform well, or it's off with your head. Is that understood?"
"Congrats, LMAO. Sux 2 b u rn. GL, hf, don't die!!"
It felt as though the room was shrinking in on her, blocking off all exits and routes of escape. A circle of arbiters, already having settled the raven's fate long ago. Her left eye twitched.
"I can see that none of you are willing to let me worm my way out of this," she said warily. "Absolutely awful, all of you..."
"Why, that's exactly what makes you the ideal person for the job, my dear niece!" Crowley aggressively ruffled Raven's hair, making it stick up like feathers plugged into an electrical socket. "It's your kindness and willingness to help those in need. You must have gotten it from me, fufu!"
"Highly doubtful. I almost feel sorry for the poor, unfortunate soul being sent here... He has no idea what's in store for him."
Crowley blinked. "Oh, did I fail to tell you all? The student representative from Noble Bell College is..."
Night had descended upon Night Raven College. Darkness heralded twinkling stars, shadows, and secrets hidden in its depths. This was the height of mystique—and he, mystique manifest, walked along that darkness, finding comfort in it.
"... So this is where you were. I knew I’d find you out and wandering about again.”
Malleus turned.
A short figure had appeared behind him, the jacket hanging off of his shoulders flapping in a steady breeze. In the dark, his eyes were bright rubies—striking against the lucid, opal moonlight. He smiled, displaying fangs.
"Lilia."
He skipped to Malleus’s side. "Didn’t you have a dorm leader meeting to attend?"
The prince’s brow furrowed. "Is that today?"
"It was today," Lilia gently corrected him. “Well, it's long since over.”
A frown formed. “That is... rather unfortunate. I had been looking forward to the discussing how to best demonstrate our hospitality to the student from beyond Sage's Island."
“Chin up, Malleus!" Lilia reached into his back pocket and produced a scroll tied with a midnight blue ribbon. “I have the meeting notes passed along from the headmaster’s child—you remember the little raven, don't you? With this, you’ll be able to get up to speed on the discussion in no time."
“The raven? Yes, that would be the young Crowley you speak of. I shall have to express my gratitude to her at a later time. It is in part through these records that I remain informed in spite of my absences."
Malleus accepted the paper from his vice dorm leader, tugging the ribbon and letting the page unfurl. He immediately began poring over its contents, a finger following each line of text he took in. A review of the quarterly budget, consideration for expanding the cafeteria menu to include more vegetarian options, important upcoming events...
“Shall we make her an honorary knight for all her troubles? Send a thank-you card? Invite her to tea?”
“We are nowhere that friendly. Merely acquaintances.”
“That’s too bad. She seems like an sharp girl. A little high-strung, but nice.” Lilia curiously rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “You, Sebek, and Silver attended that masquerade in the City of Flowers together, didn’t you? I imagine you’re already thick as thieves. How good for you all! I wish I had been there too.”
Malleus’s lip curled at the mention of the masquerade. “A great many things happened then. I was certainly taken aback by the young Crowey’s conviction when she was faced with grave danger.”
… That danger had been himself.
A memory flashed through his mind—four figures, clustered around a book. The distressed cries of a raven calling out, and the cold, steely roar of the dragon that countered it.
“We must stop him from tainting his own soul. We must!!“
“Rest assured, we will stop him. When the time comes for me to exact my revenge... Pray that you do not stand between myself and Flamme. I cannot guarantee your safety if you were to get caught in the crossfires.”
“But he’s…!!”
“Suffering? He has deceived me and threatened the safety of my people. They will suffer too if he is not stopped. His is a story that will end in fire. There can be no other ending. If it comes down to life or death, I will do what I must to secure Briar Valley’s future.”
“It won’t come to that, it can’t! I…! I won’t let that happen! A-Absolutely not, even if it’s Malleus-senpai…!”
“You would grant your enemies clemency? Then you are a fool.”
“I-I believe… everyone deserves a second shot at their happily ever after!! S-So even if I’m scared and want to run away… e-even though I know I can’t beat you in a fight… I’m a fool who wants to defend that belief until the bitter end!!”
"My, so she’s fiery one! I’ve yet to see many defiant enough to stand against you. It’s a good thing you didn’t flambé her.”
“She looked as though she was going to pass out from fright.”
“Even better!!” Lilia clapped his hands in delight. "Ooh, I’d love for you to have such an amusing friend.”
Malleus was nearly done with the notes now. As he neared the end of the paper, the subject shifted to that of a special guest. The odd raven, that guest’s guide and attendant.
He stopped, his finger hovering over the final bullet point on the page.
"What's this? The visiting student will be from Noble Bell College... and his identity…” The prince fell silent. Seriousness had seized control of his features.
“Malleus…? What’s wrong?”
Lilia looked over in concern. What he found was a dark, mischievous smile slowly spreading across Malleus’s face. For a brief moment, he felt as though he had just stared into an abyss—and the abyss had stared back in all of its wickedness.
“Fufufu… Now this will certainly be fun."
#twst#twisted wonderland#Malleus Draconia#Azul Ashengrotto#Leona Kingscholar#Kalim Al-Asim#Idia Shroud#Vil Schoenheit#Dire Crowley#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#Raven Crowley#disney twisted wonderland#upcoming blog event???#ooooh what could it be I wonder/j#Riddle Rosehearts#Lilia Vanrouge#Rollo at the Writing Desk
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Open Up (To Me) ♡ Alhaitham x GN!Reader
🎧 Song : Open Up - Meg Ruiz
A year following your death, Alhaitham finds a certain someone wandering the grounds of the House of Daena, fingers gracing the spines of each book without a care in the world.
Angst, angst to fluff, major character death, reader dies, gender neutral reader, no pronouns used, memory loss, mentions of samsara, nahida our favorite wing-auntie.
ALHAITHAM was sure everything happened. He knew. He knew he held your lifeless figure in his arms, cradling it as your head lolled around lifelessly. Dried blood stained your clothes a crimson brown and your skin ice cold, the beds of your nails turning a deep purple. He knew it happened.
You were one of the few courageous warriors that had helped out in Liyue when it was under Osial's attack, having been assigned there by the Akademiya for some extended research. You were meant to come back after a week. You were meant to come back to the safety and comfort of his arms. You were never meant to overuse your Cryo vision, the glass encasing it never meant to shatter and lose its icy glow.
Celestia had other plans.
Millelith soldiers from the Land of Commerce had come knocking on his door. Alhaitham excitedly expected it to be you, standing at the entrance of his home, the all-too-familiar grin of yours with the sun shining onto your skin, making you look all the more ethereal. That excitement subsided when he saw the soldiers, handing him an enevelope that seemed to come from the Tianquan of the Qixing. They waited for him to finish reading its contents.
He scanned over the words. Over, and over, and over, and over again. Was this some kind of sick joke? He expected you to come out with an apologetic smile but he was only greeted by the silence of Avidya Forest and the soldiers.
The soldiers led him to where your cold body laid, peacefully resting for eternity. They left him to provide some space out of respect.
Archons. Even when you were engulfed by the pale of death, he still found you beautiful, like he told you each morning you woke up by his side.
Alhaitham wanted to tear his heart out of his chest. He wanted to scratch his neck to rid him of his throat. He wanted to scream, he cursed at whatever deity was listening. An ugly sob followed by a sniffle escaped his lips, salty tears streamed down his face as he buried his head into your cold neck, cradling the shell of whatever was left of you.
He remembered it, all. too. well.
So would the archons care to explain to him how you were there now, eyes scanning the books on the shelves with pieces of literature secured in one of your arms. Perhaps sleep had wanted to have its way with him for the first time in a while? It has not been long since the incident with the Doctor and Lord Kusanali and he knew his sleep schedule hasn't been the best as of late.
But no matter how many times he blinked, no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes as he pinched himself. You were still there, now on your way to sit at one of the vacant desks and chairs.
It was really you. You, whom he had lost not so long ago. You, whose deathly cold body he held so closely that one morning to evening in the city with the uncomfortably heavy solitude and the realization of your death.
The moment you saw him in your peripheral vision, you looked up at the Acting Grand Sage.
"Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You politely said at the stranger.
Time had stopped for the former scribe. 364 days, 7 hours and 15 minutes. Tomorrow was supposed to be the 1st anniversary of your death. How coincedental.
It was your voice that rang through his ears. The same voice that had wished him good luck. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into his ears during intimate moments.
Alhaitham managed to choke out a few words, sounding strained as to not startle you.
"Greetings." He said, stoic as ever as how you met him for the first time one faithful day in this very library. "I do not recall seeing you around, care to tell me your name?"
You chuckled lightly. Little birdies from around the Akademiya had spoke of a certain grey haired man, the Acting Grand Sage. Some spoke of him highly, whilst the contrasting spoke of him with deep disdain.
"My, the Acting Grand Sage asks for my name? Have I ran into trouble?" You replied, gently closing the open book you were previously reading and leaning over, head resting on your shoulder with a polite grin.
"Quite the opposite, if I may. I find you quite intriguing, not many scholars like to have a physics book open."
"Ah, this?"
You gestured him to lean his head forward to your lips before whispering,
"Truth be told, I wasn't really paying attention to the words. It's my first day here, I wished to pass off as a competent one." You softly giggled into his ear.
Exactly what you had done on your first day, except Alhaitham had an icy aura that surrounded him as if he was traced by it. Now he was the one who had approached you.
The Acting Grand Sage was never the one to believe in hypothetical things like fate but it was as if that very same thing had line this up for him.
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw a pair of small feet and strands of white hair running and flowing freely once he turned his focus to the source. He inwardly smiled.
Oh, he had fallen for you once again.
Worry not for the amount of hypothetical days the Samsara keeps him in a loop. Alhaitham worries not for your loss of memory. He'd willingly get stuck in the chains of it for you, for as long as he finds his way back to you and you the same.
You have embedded and carved a place reserved only for you in his soul only the Primordial One could eradicate and erase.
#bamdelune's bookstore#bamdelune#genshin impact#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x gn reader#sumeru
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Blood of Eden // Part Eight // Noah Sebastian Urban Fantasy AU Fic
Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.
CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.
This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.
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Jolly strode into the grand council chamber, adjusting the lapels of his suit and surveying the scene before him. Fellow mages mingled in small groups, their hushed conversations echoing off the circular walls and intricately carved marble pillars. His gaze swept down the stairs to the center of the room, where the massive, oaken table of the Head Magistrate sat, its surface polished to a gleaming shine and inlaid with intricate sigils and runes. Flanking it were the four smaller tables of the Council Elders, simple and unadorned in contrast. Off to the side, almost as an afterthought, were the utilitarian desks of the Secretary, Scribe, and Guardsman, stacked high with parchment and quills. Jolly slumped into his seat at one of the Elders' tables, crossing one leg lazily over the other and leaning back with a sigh. Another mind-numbing meeting awaited him, just like all the others this month. These interminable gatherings were the bane of his workday existence. He often found himself zoning out as the Magistrate droned on, his imagination drifting to literally anything else - magical experiments in his workshop, reading in the archives, even watching paint dry. Today would be no exception, he mused, stifling a yawn and steeling himself for the boredom ahead.
Jolly's mind wanders to Rosa as he waits for the meeting to start. He thinks back to this morning at the breakfast table, when he caught a brief glimpse of the intensity simmering behind her eyes. For just a moment, he saw the aurora glow of her irises - greens, blues and purples swirling together like a cosmic storm.
As Jolly poured himself another cup of coffee in the kitchen, he overheard Rosa telling Noah about the victims of the disease she called The Rage. But it wasn't really a disease at all- just uncontrolled magic consuming Unclaimed Mages from within.
Jolly shudders at the thought. Where would he be now if his own magic had spiraled out of control like that? He feels a swell of gratitude for his mentor, who helped him harness and master his abilities.
His family was a lineage of mages with a magic that spanned generations, each adept at wielding the immense power of water. He had a cousin who made her home right on the tumultuous waves of the Aegean Sea in Greece - open her back door and the ocean spray hits you in the face. Another cousin was an Olympic swimmer - clearly the family gifts gave him an advantage in the pool. It was no coincidence they hailed from the icy north, where snow covered the ground most of the year. His parents were in their element among the glaciers and snowdrifts. They never understood why he felt compelled to head west to the sweltering city.
The simplicity of it resonated within him. Blood. The one common thread that bound humans, mages, and hunters together as one. Its rhythmic flow coursed through every living being, connecting them in an intimate dance of life. As he stood among the pulsing thrum of bodies, feeling their sanguine energy swirl around him, he found peace. In that moment, all differences faded away, and there was only the blood - the vital, crimson river that made them all one.
As she sits down next to him, he can't help but notice her defeated sigh, though her appearance exudes anything but. Maria's dark caramel locks cascade in perfect curls down to the middle of her back, effortlessly framing her sweet mocha skin. While her heather grey suit accentuates her figure, her aura commands the room. He knows Maria to be a confident, successful woman who carries herself with poise and grace, yet in this moment she seems weary. Though she looks as put together as ever, her sigh betrays her, hinting at an exhaustion or worry she tries hard not to show. He wonders what could be weighing on her mind to make her shoulders slump ever so slightly under that perfectly fitted jacket.
Jolly's lips curl into a playful smile as he asks, "What is it this time, Maria dear?" The two have been best friends ever since his arrival from Sweden. Maria herself was born and raised in Brazil - two foreigners who found companionship in one another.
"What isn't the matter?" she exclaims, throwing her head back in defeat. "My experiments are failing left and right. And my herbal farm in the west? It got hit with an unexpected frost. Half our stock is dead and the rest are in shock." Poor Maria lets out an exaggerated sigh, hands slapping her face as her fresh red manicure slides down pulling her skin with it.
With a warm smile, Jolly noticed the sparkling diamond ring on Maria’s finger. "So how's Oliver handling his new promotion?" he asked.
Maria sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "About as well as can be expected. He's determined to support the hunters and make me proud, but I can tell his mind has been preoccupied." A frown tugged at her lips as she absentmindedly twisted the ring. "I just hope all the added responsibilities aren't weighing too heavily on him."
Jolly nodded in understanding, giving her arm a reassuring pat. "I'm sure he'll get the hang of it. Oliver's got a good head on his shoulders." He offered an encouraging grin. "And if he needs any advice, tell him to give me a call. I'd be happy to help however I can."
The magistrate's presence silenced the room as all eyes fell upon him. His receding dark hair and heavy-lidded eyes, now dulled by age, did nothing to diminish the air of authority he exuded. With shoulders squared, he strode in with the confidence of a man accustomed to commanding obedience. Though time had etched its marks on his face, the magistrate's piercing gaze and imposing stature ensured that he remained an intimidating, powerful figure that few would dare defy. Flanked by armed guards with hands ready at their weapons and fierce hunters prowling in his wake, he exuded power. The assembled mages and council members watched with bated breath as he took his place at the head of the room. His piercing gaze swept over the crowd; with but a look, he could end any man's life. When he spoke, his deep voice echoed off the stone walls, steel underlying his every word. This was not a man to be trifled with. All knew that to defy him meant certain death. His will would be done, one way or another.
The magistrate called the meeting to order, his gravelly voice booming through the crowded hall. As the magistrate continued explaining the agenda for their meeting, Jolly listened intently, waiting for the right moment to make his case with passion and conviction. Jolly had been concerned about laboratory finances being off for months now, although it was only slight loss each month he wanted to propose more access to the financial bracket in order to ensure the funding was being spent appropriately. As the head researcher at the biotech firm, Jolly took pride in running an efficient and productive lab. He had assembled a top-notch team of scientists who were making great strides in genetic research that could lead to new disease treatments. However, Jolly had noticed some peculiarities in the monthly budgets that left him scratching his head. Each month, there seemed to be a small but consistent discrepancy between the approved funding for equipment, materials, and salaries and the actual spending. The differences were not huge - usually just a few thousand dollars - but they bothered Jolly, who liked to have full transparency and understanding of his lab's finances. He began to wonder if the discrepancies were a sign of innocent accounting errors or something more concerning like misconduct or fraud.
The council chamber erupted into a tumultuous debate as the mages representing the western territories voiced their strong objections to the proposed expansion plans. The western mages were incensed, but controlled in their anger, as they argued against the council's designs to push westward, establishing new laboratories, research facilities, and magical institutions on their lands. They fretted that such development would tax their resources, both material and magical, to a breaking point. More than that, the mages worried how the humans living in the west would react. So much of the mages' livelihood and profits depended on providing services to the non-magical humans there.
The western mages implored the council to reconsider the westward expansion, lest they lose the faith and business of the humans and thereby undermine the prosperity of mage and human alike. But not even ten minutes had passed when Jolly's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pressed it between his palm and thigh, silencing it until the buzzing stopped. A minute later, it buzzed again. Maria turned to him, concern swimming in her soft brown eyes. Jolly never got calls during meetings, especially not with the High Council of Mages. He was always diligent about turning his phone off beforehand. Yet here it was, buzzing insistently in his pocket, disrupting the solemn proceedings. Jolly shifted in his seat, ignoring Maria's worried glance. The phone vibrated again, persistently. Noah knew better than to call during High Council meetings, but after the third buzz, Jolly discreetly slid his phone out from his deep pocket and tapped back a quick message: "In a meeting."
The phone hummed once more against his leg. He offered Maria an apologetic nod before slipping to the back of the room. He could feel the eyes of the other Mages following him, their curiosity mingled with annoyance at the disruption. What could be so urgent that Noah would risk the ire of the High Council? Jolly's grip tightened on his phone as he stepped into the shadowed recesses of the hall.
"Noah, what's going on?" he whispered.
Before Jolly could even finish the question, Noah blurted out: "It's Rosa. She's been sick all morning, shaking and sobbing. I think she's having trouble breathing." Jolly could hear Rosa whimpering and choking back sobs in the background. His heart sank with worry.
Jolly ended the call and quietly returned to his seat beside Maria. Crouching down, he saw her eyes widen as she took in the evident concern on his face.
"Go," she whispered. "I'll check in after the meeting."
NOAH’S POV
He glances down at Rosa's small, trembling body curled up in his lap. Her fever still rages even as she finally drifts into a fitful sleep. He gently rubs circles on her back, hoping to provide some small comfort as they huddle near the warming fire. Jolly has been on the phone with Maria all day, both of them racking their brains trying to figure out how to make Rosa feel better. They've tried everything - bland foods, rest, warm baths, piles of blankets - but nothing seems to break this persistent fever. He feels so helpless watching his young mistress suffer. His heart aches to see her so miserable and weak. If only there was something more he could do to ease her discomfort. He continues rubbing her back, wishing he could absorb her illness into himself and spare her this torment.
Late into the night, the apartment was dark and still. Noah's eyes peered through the shadows, his night vision sharp. In the next room, Jolly tapped away at his keyboard, the occasional thud against the desk revealing his frustration. They were all on edge.
Before the knock came at the door, Noah caught their scent on the air - the earthy musk of Oli mixed with his wife's exotic floral perfume. Hushed voices murmured as Nick let them in, arms laden with bags. The commotion stirred Rosa from her sleep. She groaned, turning her head in Noah's lap as the visitors carried in their chaotic noise. He stroked her hair, hoping to soothe her back to rest, even as his own nerves remained taut.
Noah gently scoops her up, cradling her in his strong arms as if she were the most delicate porcelain doll. Carrying her down the hall to the room she shares with Jolly. His face softens as he gazes down at her, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Oli and Nick follow closely behind, ever-watchful guardians ready to protect their cherished friend.
Oli takes up his post by the tall windows, his tall, lean frame leaning casually against the glass as he keeps a close eye on the surroundings below. Nick stations himself firmly by the door, arms crossed, prepared to ward off any disturbance.
Noah lays Rosa down tenderly on the bed, tucking the blankets snugly around her resting form. His touch is feather-light, yet secure and comforting. Oli and Nick exchange a quick glance, reassured by the care Noah takes with his vulnerable mistress.
Noah stops tucking her in, looking up at Oli with a questioning gaze. "She's different now," Oli said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Since that night. Something's changed."
Nick chimed in, sounding puzzled. "She's sick, right?" But he had never even seen Rosa before. How could he know?
Oli hesitated, sensing there was more to it. "No, it's...something else. Something more." His tone was laced with curiosity and unease.
Noah gazed upon his mistress' sleeping form, a knot of unease twisting in his gut. She was his to protect, yet he sensed a power within her that gave him pause. As she shifted in slumber, a lock of hair fell across her face. But as his fingers grazed her cheek, her eyes flashed open, swirling with the cosmic colors of the morning sky.
He whimpered, feeling her gaze pierce his soul. His body shuddered, dropping to all fours in supplication before her might. With but a glance, she commanded the room. Oli and Nick, too, succumbed, bowing as beasts before her.
Though uncertainty gripped him, Noah felt no fear. He would surrender all to keep her safe. There was power here, yes, but no evil. Only light.
JOLLY’S POV
Jolly's leg bounced impatiently as he watched Maria pore over the results for the fifth time. "Well?" he finally burst out, unable to contain himself any longer.
Maria glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "This is unbelievable," she murmured. "Nightshade serum? Created in someone's home lab? Preposterous."
She turned back to the email, reading through it again with pursed lips. Jolly groaned and leaned his head against the back of the couch.
"I just can't wrap my mind around it," Maria said after another minute. "This Rosa woman managed to synthesize a complex biochemical compound using makeshift equipment? And achieved these kind of results?"
He sits casually on the couch, legs crossed, as he considers the situation. "Seems like it," he muses. "She's been getting nightshade from some garden shop over on the east side."
Maria thinks quietly to herself. "Well, I don't own that shop. And I certainly don't sell deadly nightshade here." She shakes her head slightly.
Jolly sat up, placing both feet firmly on the ground as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His hands clasped together tightly as he looked at Maria expectantly.
"Well, will any of that mumbo jumbo you brought actually help or not?" he asked, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. He needed something real, something tangible to help Rosa get through this.
Maria just leaned back in the office chair, clicking her tongue thoughtfully. "I might be able to whip something up, but it may only provide temporary relief. She may just have to ride this thing out."
Jolly shook his head, countering firmly but not unkindly, "She needs strength, real medicine, if she's going to recover and get back on her feet. Something to help her keep food and water down, not just take the edge off."
Maria nodded contemplatively, eyes glazing over as she turned ideas over in her head. "Let me see what I can do. Oh, and when she's better, I'd love to be able to pick her brain a bit." At Jolly's confused look, she continued, "My experiments keep failing, but with a brilliant mind like hers, maybe I can finally achieve what I'm looking for."
Jolly sighed, but had to admit her skills could help. "We'll see when she's back on her feet. For now, let's just focus on getting her well."
Maria spins out of the chair, gliding across the room before she rummages through her bags with eager hands, searching for the ingredients she needs. Maria finds them and gets to work, pouring and mixing with practiced motions. Several syringes are filled with a murky green concoction. She tidies her workspace, then picks up one of the syringes. gives it a flick, making sure there are no bubbles, before securing the needle. Her eyes gleam as she admires the fruits of her labor.
Jolly scrambles to his feet as she catwalks out of the room, her words trailing behind her. "Let's see if it works." He hurries after her, struggling to keep up with her long strides. They make their way down the hall to his room. As he opens the door, they both freeze, startled by the sight before them.
Between the soft cotton sheets and warm down blankets, Rosa rests peacefully, her head propped up on the plush pillows. Next to her, Noah, rests his furry head on her belly, his legs twitching occasionally as he sleeps curled up close to Rosa, ever watchful and protective. At her feet, paws crossed over her legs, lies Nick, snoring softly in tranquil slumber. And there, curled perfectly at Rosa's thighs, eyes open and alert, is Oli, the vigilant comander.
Jolly leans against the door frame, crossing his arms as he watches the faithful guardians wake and look at Maria with curious yet cautious eyes. They have locked onto the syringe in her hand. Noah turns to Jolly, who offers a reassuring nod as Maria approaches slowly. The protective canine companions follow her every move, never leaving their posts at Rosa's side. Jolly looks on calmly from the doorway as Maria grasps Rosa's arm, finding the right spot and delivering the medicine from the syringe. When the syringe is empty, Maria walks away, and the devoted guardians snuggle into Rosa even tighter, continuing their vigil watch.
#bad omens#bad omens cult#bad omens band#noahsebastian fanfic#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian fanfic#joakim jolly karlsson smut#joakim jolly karlsson fic#jolly karlsson#urban fantasy#dark romance#romance#bad omens au#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#blood of eden
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The Generals Daughter
Arya Melgren
From official documents it is stated that Arya Melgren was born in the night of the 22nd March 613 AU, the stormiest night of the month.
While it was claimed that General Melgren is her father, it is not known who the woman is, that has brought her into life. No one is allowed to ask the general anything about Aryas origin.
To limit questions, the general used all his power to keep her a secret for as long as possible to outsiders, beside the nannys that raised her, since her father was always busy with the safety of Navarre, and the teachers and trainers she had since she was of six and ten years.
She originally wanted to chose the path as a scribe in the Archieves but was strongly refused by her father, that claims she is born to be a rider, nothing else. She learned this the hard and painful way.
Arya has natural vibrant red hair, that earns her a lot of attention since it seems to be uncommon. Her eyes are of a blue-grey color that is described to be a dark blue, almost black when she gets angry and a sparkling blue when excited. She is described to be a little more curvy, but on a muscular side due to her long training. She is around 5'9'' tall. Her face is adorned with multiple scars around her right eye and two under her left one. Some of them around her right eye are deeper than the others but she was incredibly lucky that her eye itself was not damaged.
Though Arya seems cold and emotionless to outsiders, throughout her first year her squad mates realize how intelligent, friendly and selfless she really is. Although she wears her last name with nothing but disdain, her friends always remind her that she is more than just a name to them.
How she would be described, if you'd ask her squad mates:
clever, quiet, icy, polite, brave, serious, intelligent, wise, selfless, stubborn, sassy, sarcastic, dangerous
She doesn`t talk much but when, then she can be very humorous (with a big sprinkle of dark humor), dry, sassy and sarcastic. To the surprise of the other cadets (and as a nightmare for the professors) she finds a partner in crime in Ridoc (and sometimes Sawyer). She is heavily judged by her father for the choices she makes in her first year.
Many think that because she is the generals daughter, she will be as controlling, a strict rule follower, terrifying and heartless as the one everyone fears. She is suspected to step into her fathers footsteps and expected to be great and powerful. (You don‘t have it from me, but after the reveal of Arya, words travel fast and soon there are bets placed between the Navarrian Officers what dragon she`ll bond, what signet she could have and if she even has a chance of surviving.)
Throughout the story we will learn a lot more about her character and most importantly - where her loyalty lays.
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The scribe writes. Their fingers bleed, the wood splinters, their eyes burn. The king has ordered their silence, to make His deeds be swallowed by history. The scribe refuses. History will not forget. The scribe will make sure. Blood dots the wooden tablets. The King has slaughtered the scribe's family and village. They will be next. The doors to their chambers slam open. They do not stop writing. They do not look up when the clanging of armor and weapons enter their chambers. A cold blade rests against their neck. They refuse to stop. Tablet after tablet is filled. The sword is raised. An icy sheen glints. They lurch, gurgle with blood. It drips on the tablets. The scribe turns. Grins with blood in their mouth.
"La historia me dará la razón. No se olvidará. Y yo tampoco."
History will prove me right. It shan't forget. And neither will I. Their body collapses over the tablets. The head hits the ground. The sword breaks. The king does not care. The treasures are sealed in a vault besides the broken vessel and stained beads. That night, the scribe rises again. Eyes red and body translucent, they walk from their corpse. Blood drips on the castle floor. There is too much fury in their heart to make them stay silent. They do not enter the dolls. A banette will not hold them. They do not covet the jewels. A sableye will not keep them. No keystone will hold their soul. Their mouth opens and a horrid wail echoes through the hallways. Two bloody hands press against the vault. Two more join. The priestess of the beads that the king had ordered dead for not following his new rites. Two more join. The boy the king has sacrificed on the vessel. Two more. The urchin the king had killed with the sword for stealing bread. Their hands press against the vault. The door gives. Their blood drips on the treasures. They will not rest. They refuse. Fire blooms around the beads. The priestess' envy of the temple of Arceus burns hot. Snow accumulates around the broken sword. The urchin's hatred for the king is frigid. Packed earth builds below the vessel. The boy's fear binding him to the ground. Leaves amass beneath the tablets. The scribe's grudge runs deep. Four horrid cries echo from the vault. Four slighted souls refuse to pass. The king's castle stands no more when the sun does rise.
#kayuri writes#pokemon#ruinous quartet#wo chien#chien pao#chi yu#ting lu#yes I wrote something about the ruinous quartet#had some ideas when talking with my friends#tw gore#tw character death
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taking a lot of inspo from val this morning, like every morning, but this one is profound i promise
you know what's wild to me?
Val was not thrilled about being cast for Top Gun in '86. in his memoir he scribes that he wasn't excited about the script and that at base level, Iceman was a boring character--lackluster, wildly undefined, and shallow. the script did nothing for him, really.
between Tony and Tom and his career picking up steam he decided to pursue the role. some Val magic later, Iceman swiftly became a fan favorite and one of the film's pillar characters. the bleached tips, the immaculate waist, shaken all the way down to his icy confidence and smooth talking lines--it's argued that Iceman has perhaps even more of a defined backstory than Pete, even if we don't get to see much of it.
and now looking back, with hindsight being what it is, Val recognizes that Top Gun changed his life. he probably wouldn't be who he is without that script. career definitely wouldn't be what it is, that's for sure.
he looks back at TG like an old friend, with fondness, and as he has always stated when it comes to his roles, he hasn't lost Iceman. Kazansky is still a part of him, and he's still a part of that character, even three decades later.
this really sparks wild flame in me because so often life isn't what we want it to be in the heat of the moment.
every day we wake up and do things we don't want to do, work jobs and pursue goals that don't fit the scope of our visionary selves. and yet we do them, and give them our all (at least I do) because in the moment, this is our life, and it deserves the best we have to give.
Val is a living picture of muscling through the things we think we don't want, only discovering later that those very things are some of our most precious memories. that without that season, we probably wouldn't be who we are. the moments we don't like prepare us for the ones we do and slingshot us into better versions of ourselves, if we learn the right lessons.
stick to it, fam. do the Val thing. work the Val magic. if it works for him, i bet it'll work for us, too.
#val kilmer#inspiration#top gun 1986#top gun#tom iceman kazansky#iceman#good morning#icon#he's my hero#i love him so much#keep going#life lessons#healing
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Thanks for the tag @cowboybrunch!
5 Lines Tag
My lines:
a line with suspense
a funny line
a line with color
a loud line
a line you’re proud of
I'll pull from End Times :)
A line with suspense
Her mangled Janazi characters bled as the wine seeped through the napkin, twisting their meaning even further. Twenari had taught Izjik and Sepo—or tried to teach, in her case—how to write in Janazi back on Nace. Sepo, of course, had picked up the language frighteningly fast and with a studious intensity that had left him with the handwriting of a scribe. Izjik, on the other hand, had never written anything before. Halawema’ishi didn’t have a written counterpart like Llanaodan, so she wasn’t super familiar with the concept to begin with.
Unfortunately, End didn’t have the patience to wait on her. All Izjik managed to scribble down was ‘Find Devaris. Help—’ before her captor took control and she was shunted once again to the back of her mind.
A funny line
“Look for dry wood in a variety of sizes,” Sepo acquiesced with a sigh.
Djek smothered a giggle. “And I’ll bet you’re an expert at looking for dry wood in a variety of sizes, huh?”
A twig flew out of the darkness and impacted his forehead. “You’re a child.”
“Avoid any Nabafyrian cedar,” Twenari added. Either the innuendo had sailed over the girl’s head or she just didn’t care. Honestly, it was a toss-up. “It can explode when exposed to intense heat.”
“That’s…. Sure, whatever. Exploding trees.” Djek cracked his knuckles with a sigh and began to make his way into the underbrush. “Run fast if you hear me scream.”
“The head start will be appreciated.”
“Run towards me, dumbass!”
A line with color
Flicking into her arcane awareness, Twenari could see a great hurricane of whirling threads—black and yellow and purple like a fresh bruise. The mass of it covered the sky, turning the rays of the moon already dimmed by her focus on the magical into little more than candlelight. It crouched over Sepo and his miraculous music like a bloated giant. Almost, Twenari could see the bare impression of a face pressed into the rotting strings leering down at him.
From the fiddle flowed magic as well. Twenari had seen divine magic before, both in the All-Temple and making up Izjik’s torn cloak. It had a finer weave to it, a different texture under her discerning eye. The magic Sepo played wasn’t quite that. It shared elements—the burning blue threads flowed like water or honey, as smooth as silk—but held the tell-tale snarls of mortal magic.
Mortal magic was imperfect. Sometimes, that was where discoveries were found, or what transformed a stale hymn into a fiery concerto.
A loud line
Before her was a far more damning sight. End didn’t wear its carapace of night. It didn’t need to, facing only mortal threats on a floating piece of flimsy wood. Twenari felt the terror of teleportation replaced instantly by sickened rage. She’d imagined it would be hard to see past Izjik to the demon wearing her skin, hard to separate the flesh from the thing within, but her friend never would’ve smiled with such sadism. Her friend would never have worn Djek’s blood on her knuckles like a trophy.
The Amaranthi’s eyes were wild with terror as he looked back at the newly arrived reinforcements from where he struggled to stand up from slick ground. Fading whips of shadow pulled uselessly as End’s arms and legs.
“Where the fuck have you been?” was his screamed greeting.
A line you're proud of
Breathing hard, she sat on the edge of the slowly sinking ship, letting the southern sea wash the ichor from her sandals. The stars stared down at her with naked hatred and Izjik knew it would be this way every night for the rest of her life. Despised by the heavens, feared by the gods.
“I hate you,” she whispered, but the words were hollow. A desperate grab for the last embers of fury to keep her warm. Terror seeped into her veins like icy poison. Izjik looked down at her shaking hands—did blood even flow within them? Or just black ichor?
It was done. She was free. So, why didn’t she feel that way?
I'll tag @apolline-lucy @melpomene-grey @nebula--nix @theprissythumbelina and anyone else who wants to play :)
Your lines are:
A whispered line
A line with sass
A pretty line
A blue line
A brutal line
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Flashback to the time I saw a hot air balloon museum and came up with a steampunk lost prince Welcome to Dreamworld AU
I'm going to paste the first half of the notes here because the Prince of the Skies au still lives in my head rent free but I want to do some formatting before posting all of my notes.
I feel like this will be a mix between Castle in the Sky and Anastasia.
Also it is in the skies because hot air balloons are really cool and I want to read more stories about adventures in the skies.
So there is this kingdom I have yet to name that is somewhere in the sky. It is magical because why not. The kingdom is plagued by a beast made of shadows that takes the form of a horse. To free the kingdom, the Lost Prince must be returned.
Wiatt is tasked with finding the Lost Prince and guiding him back to the kingdom. He knows what to look for and a way to both confirm the prince's identity and restore his magic. There is a series of trials that the one worthy of the throne can pass. It is a coming of age ceremony/tradition for the new ruler to complete the magical trials and prove their worthiness.
The story could start with Wiatt in a village on the ground. He has a perfectly fine life here, but he needs to find the prince of the skies and how can he do that from the ground? {This also leaves for me to put character cameos if I can't find roles for everyone in the cast.}
Wiatt ends up aboard the ship named The Oddity, a slapdash ship housing a mix of people from all over the world. At the head are three people: Oliver Acrimony, Sara Covetman, and Lewis Bright. Oliver is the pilot. He steers the ship on paths he hopes will have treasures he can use to give his twin siblings a comfortable and safe life. Sara is the ship's designer/technician. She drew up the plans for this ship and has modified it to keep it flying. This ship is her baby and you best not mistreat it or you will have to answer to Sara and her plethora of tools. The crew's efforts are led by Lewis Bright. By day, he keeps the crew running and commands their attention with his sparkling personality and even more dazzling smile. At night, he captivates everyone's attention by telling stories.
Wiatt sees Lewis and thinks he is practically glowing. This is definitely the Lost Prince. He is practically a celestial being, he must be meant to lead the kingdom in the sky. (This deduction is totally sound and definitely isn't influenced by his immediate crush, what are you talking about? Look at how he is a natural born leader who definitely didn't have to work to gain his self confidence and the trust of his crew.) Also the one clue Wiatt has is that the prince has brown hair and wears glasses. Since this guy screams prince material, lives in the skies, {and some third thing I forgot because I woke up at 4 today. Maybe that he looks familiar to Wiatt,} Wiatt asks that he take Lewis to these trials and bring the prince back to the Kingdom in the Sky.
As they fly, Wiatt has to earn his place on the ship. He is appointed Sara's assistant and finds he actually really likes tinkering and doing mechanic/engineering work. Sara and he do not get along at first. There is a rivalry. Also, Wiatt wants to take Lewis away and Sara sees him and Oliver as her closest friends/brothers.
---
This seems like a good stopping point. I have more notes but they bounce around a bit and got disjointed. Low amounts of sleep plus getting up early to see hot air balloons made my adhd at peak performance that day.
Here are some other notes before I close the post off for now:
The group of Lewis, Sara, and Oliver would be called either the Oddity Trio, the Founder Trio, or something that references the word Founder. I don't know if this will even come up in the story.
Sara can fight. She teaches Wiatt to fight. I feel like her fighting style would be more improvised weapons and throwing knives, but also....girls with swords???? Yes???? I don't know if Alyssa is on this crew or if Carly is.
I just want to have Wiatt and Sara have a training montage where it goes from Sara fighting Wiatt and enjoying having something to lorde over him to him working hard to learn to defend himself to her admiring his tenacity to them bonding and having a sort of rivalry that becomes friendly over time.
If Carly and Lewis are both the adopted kids of Eric, learning to sword fight is a requirement. Carly tells Wiatt he has to beat her for her to allow him to date Lewis. Wiatt knows that Lewis isn't a prize and this is his call, but he also knows that this is Carly's way of feeling she has control.over the situation. He asks Lewis if he can teach him, but Lewis says that would be cheating to learn through him specifically and tells him to learn through Sara.
I don't know if Wiatt actually beats Carly, but putting up with Sara that long takes dedication and tenacity. Plus, anyone that can put up with Sara and not leave (or be offed. I don't know if killing happens in this au, but they are maybe sky pirates so...?) is pretty good for Lewis. He's earned her approval.
Wiatt is a refugee from the Kingdom in the Sky. He and his dad left when Wiatt was very young. There is this entity of shadows and stars and magic that I've been calling Dark Horse. I'll go into it more later, but I decided that he is keeping everyone in the kingdom in line by trapping them in a sleep like state. They are all dreaming and the entity has the ability to see into all their dreams and even can turn the dreams into nightmares. When the Dark Horse came about, Owen grabbed his son and ran.
Owen is the one who told Wiatt about the trials.
I am playing with the idea of Lewis having magic and what that magic can do. Maybe he can float, can make himself glow and be more noticeable?
It might be cool to have Wiatt have prophetic dreams or maybe he gets dreams where he sees what is happening in the sky kingdom.
#icy scribes#WTDW Kingdom in the Sky au#WTDW Prince of the Skies au#WTDW AU#welcome to dreamworld#WTDW
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The Moon represents my heart
Side note: I just found out about the keep reading button. I'm no longer on the phone. I did this instead of sleeping.
Pt 1
(yandere(?) Capitano x wife! reader)
Uh continuation, if I have to be honest. I have no idea what the hell is this story's heading, Scribe take the wheel!
"I can't drive!"- Scribe
@youyue
warnings: Violence, swearwords
“I fucking hate you!” You threw the glass vase next to your monster of a husband. The maid outside is probably scared to death since she was new to the manor. Both of you are supposed to be practicing ballroom dance but turned into a deadly tango. The knife that was hidden on your thigh, discarded on the floor.
It has been more than sixty (60) days since you've last seen your family, not even a farewell to them. Swiped the items around, similarly to a child having a tantrum. Though your spouse didn't seem to mind it, in fact it's amusing to him seeing his beloved woman so worked up on his victory over you. Nothing more than a mere hiccup in your relationship, because soon enough you'll be quiet on your own.
"Dove." He tried to reason with you. But that nickname infuriates you to no end, even more when it usually means everything you aren't and don't have.
"Stop calling me that." Your voice faltered, you looked so helpless underneath that hardened façade.
His gloved hand touched your shoulder, shrugged him off. "I don't need your fucking pity. Just let me die to a hound or some shit!" You screeched at him. To be honest, he takes joy in you challenging him like this.
"Then be ready tomorrow morning, you're coming with me. That’s final." You were about to retort but was silenced by his cold embrace compared to the everlasting winters of Snezhnaya. If you were being honest, being dead is better than staying here with him.
~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°
True to his word, you were prepared for the day. Your handmaiden dressed you in a somewhat familiar style of clothes, flexible to move swiftly in, lighter but enough to not let you freeze to death outside.
“Is it to your liking?” Ciara asked, eyes closed and bowing to you. Submissive, demure… It’s disgusting to think you’re supposed to act like that, grinning and letting it all happen.
“Like a glove.” You put on the black eyepatch not wanting to be seen with the accursed scar.
“My lady, if I may.” Nodded, letting her help you by putting some powder to make sure it won’t be visible.
You thanked her for her help before exiting your shared quarters, the maids stopped and bowed when you passed by. Only a bitter look on your face remained, holding every resentment you have for the very man that’s waiting for you at the entrance.
“You look the same as ever.” He says, trying to complement. But is he though? The hasty judgment and bias got the better of you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Your eyes narrowing at him. He merely huffs, leaving you to follow him outside for whatever he had planned for today.
During the ride, you realized something. You haven't seen the outside world since your icy marriage. The snowflakes danced past you like little fairies that a story book you’ve once read.
Arriving at the destination with a serpentine like suggestion, both of you arrived at the wintery palace that sits proudly upon the moor. Opulent, and imperial, no doubt your siblings would never witness this in their lifetime. Capitano got out first, helping you down like he taught you a couple of times.
“So, why are we here?” Looking up at him, it was breathtaking for him seeing an innocent scarred face like yours sprinkled with the falling snow.
“Is it wrong for me to let my wife know what I usually do?” That earned a scowl from you, following him into the icy keep that is the Zapolyarny palace.
Your husband’s footsteps overshadows yours, echoing in the building. Following to the office and filing a report. So you just sat down on the plush couch that didn’t seem to be recently used.
“I doubt there are some books that you might like.” At this point you can’t even tell if he’s being rude, or just trying to be considerate. So you kept quiet, it's really just awkward silence between you both. Only the sound of his writing can be heard.
A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Enter." Your husband commanded.
"Sorry for my intrusion, but I am here to deliver a message." That voice, you recognize that anywhere.
"Simeon?" A smile appeared on your face once you saw the familiar mop of red hair. Bright blue eyes shine when he sees you. And hydro vision that rests on his ear.
"Eh? Ah, ___, lil' firecracker!" You jumped to his embrace, relieved to see a friendly face. With your electro vision and his hydro created a tiny spark.
"It's been so long!" Simeon hugged your waist and swished you around while you laughed.
"It's unexpected of you to be here." The servant of the law says, curious to why you're here and not in Natlan.
"Uhm… Well… " Hesitant eye looked at Capitano whose burning stares couldn't be ignored.
"And your eye-?" Simeon was about to touch your eyepatch but was stopped by the gruff voice of Capitano.
"I suggest you leave if you're here to flirt with my wife." Even if you are wed to him, the fact remains that you could still be won over if he's defeated or killed.
"Ah, uhm. Right." Simeon let you go, making you huff at your spouse.
But that was a couple of days ago, you had received news from your handmaiden that he is unable to talk to you. Walking into the training grounds, you didn’t wear the clothes that he had laid out for you, instead you borrowed a tunic and some pants from Ciara. "I heard that a certain someone was injured, the same person who was acquainted with you just a while ago and is now under a cleric's care." Your voice sounded, as agents turned their heads to you.
" Wait, you mean that lawyer guy? He said-" A soldier seemed surprised.
" Funny to talk about him, Dove. He got in my way of training. That hit was meant for someone else." Capitano blocked your view of the agent.
" He's my friend, you didn't have to hurt him." Getting closer, seeing how your figure sways abit, tassels of hair frame your face.
" It was only a scratch" The masked man merely said. Not wanting to admit that your undeniable affection towards the lawyer threatens your spoken vows.
" Oh, so you call breaking his kneecaps a scratch?" raising an eyebrow at him, arms crossed. Finally you’re in front of him, it’s hilarious how short stacked you are. Your eyes looking up to try and meet eye to eye within the endless darkness of his mask.
" And what if I told you I only cut his cheek?” You could feel him smiling underneath that mask.
"What a liar.” You frowned.
"Dare to question my honor?" He’s amused. Pride swelled in his chest. It has been a while since you've try to fight back against him.
"You didn't seem so honorable when you took my freedom from me." Scoffing at him as Capitano put his hand on the sword’s hilt.
" Anyone who isn't my wife, leave the training ground, I'm giving you twenty seconds to scram." Everyone scrambled to escape the captain’s wrath.
" You may have power in this land, but hurting my friend is a big mistake." Finding it adorable that you're wearing his shirt. Apparently the girl couldn't distinguish between a shirt and a tunic due to his size.
" What does my little dove want from me? " Seeing you so riled up and in his shirt lightened his mood a bit.
" I demand satisfaction in a duel." The short girl below him, staring holes into his.
“I’m no coward compared to that man-friend of yours.” and to which you replied with.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Couples had a stare down, circling each other. Lines were forged, weapons drawn. None made the first move until Capitano lunged at her with his sword at hand. Your shoe made contact with his blade, causing you to leap over him and strike him from the head.
Gust of wind swatted your arrows from his mighty sword. He could see how you bend backwards to evade the sword going at you. Thin legs hooked onto his extended arm and hoisted yourself up. He didn't think his little dove would perch on his arm. Thoughts snap out when you greet him with an arrow to the face. With his free arm shielded his face, letting himself off guard for you to escape his grasp.
Your nimble body, twisting and turning wouldn’t be a problem for you to dodge his attacks. Your plan here is to at least injure him or even just a bruise. While avoiding his tactical swipes at you to push you into a corner and commence a defensive maneuver, which causes him to get a cut on the shirt.
"Pervert!" Face red before putting your weight on a tree branch. Unexpectedly it breaks under you. Screamed at the loss of foot holding that you lost your grip on the bow.
Metallic clinks grew faster as a strong arm caught your smaller build.
"As gentle as the moon." You could have sworn you saw sharp rows of teeth curled into a smile.
It feels embarrassing to be in a situation like this, you didn't notice the full moon rising nor your arms around his neck.
Snapping out of your thoughts, and grabbed a dagger from your belt to try and stab his face with it. He was prepared for that and he bit down on the blade as if it were a rose instead. You couldn't lie that it made your heart skip a beat, ears turned pink.
"P'tooy.. you had fun yet?" He teased after spitting out the knife from his mouth.
"Like hell I did!" Merely replying with a soft chortle.
~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~
Then there are times where you have to save his ass like the first time you found out he had left his claymore.
"My lady, please calm down!" Ciara tried to pull you back into the house but lost her grip on you.
"CAPITANO! YOU BASTARD, IF ANYONE'S GOING TO KILL YOU IT HAS TO BE ME!" Yelling from the top of your lungs as you got on top of your horse. Legs still sore from practice, you had gathered the few remaining men to aid you in battle.
"I swear on the abyss that I WILL resurrect your ass and kill you myself!" Mumbling strings of curses that followed after that solemn promise into the wind that howled into the dead of night.
"Capitano… if I fall, at least I was stuck with you instead of some pompous asshole."
" Hmph.. save that talk in bed, dove"
" Jerk, can't even talk about death in your face."
"Until death does us part."
" So it does."
#capitano x y/n#fatui capitano#capitano x you#capitano x reader#capitano#genshin fanfic#yandere capitano
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Alhaitham/Cyno - out of envy or jealousy
Alhaitham glares at the small group of scholars clustering around the entrance to Lambad’s Tavern from his table in the back. This could have been for any number of reasons; the incessant noise, the inconsiderate placement that blocked the doorway for other patrons, or if one were a spiteful student who had just found out they had failed their final year exams merely seeing someone else’s happiness could be annoying.
Alhaitham was glaring for a different reason.
It’s not as though they were trying to keep it a secret.
A too loud laugh, so obviously forced it pains his ears even through his headphones.
When the Akademiya’s rumour mill had caught wind of it no-one had been able to talk about anything for weeks afterwards.
One of the young women speaks, her tone simpering and dripping with honey that does nothing to deflect from the obvious desire gleaming in her eyes.
There had even been an investigation for archon’s sake, to ensure that neither of their work had been compromised by the relationship.
The Rtawahist scholar rubs the back of his head in a charming, self-deprecating gesture. The pink blush on his cheeks is impossible to miss.
Never mind that they hadn’t even gotten together until after he’d become Grand Scribe again.
It’s the sheer lack of subtlety about it that’s the most annoying. They know damn well the object of their misplaced affections is taken but have arrived at the unforgivably incorrect conclusion that this fact won’t be an obstacle in their pursuit.
He would have thought the numerous marks and bites littering his own body was enough of a testament but apparently he’d underestimated the stupidity of students once again.
Across the room Cyno meets his eyes unwaveringly, always so aware of Alhaitham’s gaze, and gives a helpless shrug. Usually Alhaitham would sigh and nod, he knows that Cyno doesn’t like to be rude to people. Especially those who approach him with good intentions.
Azar and his cronies had done their best to turn Cyno into the Akademiya’s living nightmare; an unfeeling savage who cared only about restricting their god-given right to advance the pursuit of knowledge. Unfortunately, unlike his other plan this one had worked very well. Scholars were always so eager to believe anything that could be used as an excuse for their own shortcomings and a vicious, heavy-handed General Mahamatra was a perfect fit.
It was a reputation based on lies that many in Sumeru were only now beginning to see through.
This was a good thing. Logically Alhaitham knows this. It is a good thing that Cyno is no longer feared or hated because he was so competent at his job that it frightened the old fools who once held his leash.
He’s seen first hand how those whispers affect Cyno, the flash of hurt from behind those sturdy walls Cyno has been forced to build to protect himself. Walls that Alhaitham had painstakingly climbed in order to reach the treasure that lay within.
Scarlet eyes blink at him in the darkness of his bedroom. Soft and sleepy and happy, so happy that Alhaitham wants this moment of time to freeze until he can properly engrave the sight in the stone of his memory. They reach for each other in this space with no titles or duties to keep them apart. Just two men lucky enough to find each other and selfish enough not to let go.
The student from before laughs again and Alhaitham’s glare deepens, uncaring of the patron at the other table quickly moving away at the telltale flash of green in those icy cold eyes.
Alhaitham has no problem with the genuine well-wishers who approach Cyno with no ulterior motive other than to apologize or to thank him for his work. While it is annoying to be held up in the street by a grateful mother who stands in their way bowing at Cyno and rambling about a fire or a monster or some other danger that Cyno had rescued her son from, Alhaitham can handle it.
The vultures who have descended to the tavern tonight are a very different story.
Admirers were to be expected. As biased as he is, Alhaitham knows there are others who share his opinion on how attractive Cyno is. He’s seen the stares full of want that chase after Cyno’s retreating back in the hallways of the House of Daenna and he’s overheard more than one shaky confession spluttered out through shaking lips at the General Mahamatra only to be gently rejected.
Alhaitham had thought those would have stopped after he and Cyno had finally stopped dancing around and claimed one another…admittedly with a little help from Dehya, but apparently he was wrong.
Did these people assume Alhaitham wouldn’t care? That he was a passive figure in the relationship and wouldn’t retaliate? That they could cage Cyno by the entrance and flirt with him without punishment?
They were sorely mistaken.
It had been some time since he’d had to teach a lesson but he remembers the basics well enough.
One of the men touches Cyno’s shoulder.
Alhaitham’s hold on his temper shatters like one of his mirrors.
He’s across the room before his next breath. Cyno spins to face him, focus immediately shifting from the fawning sycophants around them. Alhaitham smirks. He knows it isn’t nice to hoard Cyno’s attention like this, it isn’t the polite way to love someone.
Jealousy is threatening, protective, or fearful of losing one's position or situation to someone else. Is it truly jealousy if he knows he will never lose Cyno to one of these idiots? Not with the way Cyno leans into him in obvious relief.
Relief that gives way to surprise when Alhaitham clasps a hand around his neck and pulls him into a searing kiss.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Cyno melts into it.
Alhaitham keeps one eye open, sees the paling faces and futile anger.
Did you really think you had a chance?
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They Call it An Intro?
You managed to find yourself @somnolentdipso page? Believe me it ain’t much special and it ain’t flashy like others but what it does have is well a Dipso.
Posted Content Includes:
Saké (Too bad 100% Goes to Me🍶)
My tipsy scribes of my whims
Concepts of A Variety of Kinks
Perhaps Chefs Inside View
Art I stare at while waiting for things
Good Vibes
My Likings/Interest(SFW Wise)
(⚠️⚠️If you ask me what I like in dms without reading this I shall present a 🎁. Saying is “Play stupid games and win stupid prizes🫢.” Warning has been dished and presented)
MMA(Mixed Martial Arts)👊🏾🥊
(11 Years total) Known Styles: Muy-Thai, Capoeira & Kickboxing
Cooking/Baking/Mixology💼🍴
Been Doing this for a while like long while maybe 4-5 ish years now
Research/Read/Write/Discuss💻
Most definitely love discussing in-depth topics with people who are invested in the vast world we got for sure. Doesn’t matter how deranged and those with interesting jobs by all means let me know the experience!
Music🎶
My musical taste will definitely be something from everyone’s platters. But then again I would love to make a plate too so drop a song.
Gaming/Anime/Movies/Shows📺
Probably gonna be most chats so let me get this one out the way. Yes I do game but not too often due to work. Just Slide DMs and ask what I am playing lately or even lmk what you maybe wanna run👀. Fortnite or Ow2 would be nice as of lately. Yes We mic’d up too🗣️
Yes I enjoy anime! perhaps pop in and remind me to continue my series or even suggest a new one. I swear I don’t mean to forget but I’ve been stuck on continuing a certain one for years 💀. But I am curious for those who can guess my fav…might be in for something wonderful.
Movies & Shows to me are simple. Big fan of horror movies though! I haven’t seen a lot of anything recently and that includes the classics. Discord watch homies and feedings per chance? Only a suggestion so don’t get salivating so soon.
List of Likings(Nsfw Wise):
Bdsm
Marking & Breeding (Together as it should be)
Shibari bondage
Sadistic acts & humiliating
Degrading & Praising(Either Needed)
Flogging
Temperature play(hot or icy cold)
Knife play
Bruising
Edging/overstimulation
Petplay
Spanking
Electro-stimulation
Mirror play
Worship
Death feederism
Feedism👀(⚠️)
Force feeding
Messy eaters
Gas
⚠️ Potentially shall add more got a lot to think on
#intro post#introduction#looking for a feeder#feedee feeder#death feederism#weight gain encouragement#feedee encouragement#gaining weight on purpose#feed me#ssbbw feedee#ssbhm belly#trans feedee#gluttonous piggy#fat piggy#slobbification#slob kink
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Tis the month where we bid farewell to a year filled with tears and laughter. A month where everything is under an expansive blaket of pristine white as if the world is cleansed into a crystal clean slate but before we say adieu to 2023 and ahoy to 2024, would the fine and most creative beloved scribe grant us a final (perhaps few) scribbles for 2023? Perhaps one of the great multi-bejeweled warlord as he sits outside with his beloved, watching a flurry dance of the heaven's crystal flakes or maybe with the rather enigmatic Vlad as he catches the first few snow on his cold hand and magically transform it into a crimson heart for his lady.
Guess you can't figure out who this nony is eh.
Hehehe ^_^ I might have some ideas where this ask came from, but I won’t tell if you don’t! Thank you for your lovely compliments, and for being your sweet self. I think I’ll write something for Vlad. I haven’t had much opportunity to write for our strange vampire prince. Approx 1300 words of fluffiness.
Vlad pushed his flower cart along the icy cobblestones. Snow drifts covered the stoops and squares and hid the fountains and lampposts. The Paris streets were a winter wonderland, made softer by the blanket of snow. In a few hours, it would be reduced to piles of gray slush and chill ice-melt, but now, in these early morning hours, it was magical.
“We should enjoy it while we can,” he said softly, his breath steaming.
The poinsettias on his cart nodded with red-leafed wisdom, bobbing silently in their colorful pots. Vlad regarded them solemnly. They were flowers of good cheer, the joy of family and friends. That was why he’d brought them today. To spread happiness despite the season’s chill. He found a good street to stop on.
There were several other stands setting up here, selling hot cocoa or mulled wine. Hand held snacks and little bags of colorful candy. By the time Vlad settled into place, the street was bustling with the day’s traffic. Most barely noticed the man and his flower cart.
Vlad watched the crowd, his half-lidded ruby gaze searching for the right customers. The people that would most need a bit of cheer. The first was a young maid, hurrying through the shops. She wasn’t dressed for the cold, and her uniform was ill-fit, too big for her small frame. She wore a face of intense concentration as she tried to keep her hem out of the muck.
He gave her a tiny white rose, barely more than a bud. In a day or two it would open into a beautiful rose. Her smile blossomed at the gift and she was humming as she returned to her errands.
The second was an old man in a patched coat. He wore a look of weary bitterness born of too many years alone, and expectations unmet. Vlad gifted him a poinsettia, with crimson blooms and a verdant stem.
His third customer was a gentleman, a man with a young face but ancient eyes. He’d served as a soldier, and the horrors of that etched scars across his soul. Vlad gave him a bundle of forget-me-nots and baby’s breath. The man would never forget his lost friends and slain enemies, but life gave him a second chance. A new beginning.
The flowers in Vlad’s cart were given away one at a time, until he had only one left. A tiny white poinsettia in a glazed white pot. The plant had just one small flower, and two little green leaves and a narrow stem. There was a time when he might have cut such a plant down, but he’d come to realize that every bloom had beauty.
He wondered who would come for this last little flower. The sun hung low in the sky, a distant glow at the edge of the city skyline. The lamplighters were already out, and many of the stalls were closing up. But Vlad didn’t want to leave until he’d found a home for his last blossom.
The sunset came, its glory muted by the thickening clouds and the roiling mist that crept up the banks of the Seine. Candles flickered behind paned glass windows, and the lamp flames wavered in the growing darkness. It seemed the last flower would need to wait for another day to find its place, Vlad thought.
He took off his apron and tucked it into the cart with a sigh. Just as he straightened, a pair of mittens covered his eyes. Vlad froze stock still. He knew, of course, exactly who it was.
“Guess who?”
“Hm. Charles?”
“Nope. Try again.”
Vlad chuckled. “Not Faust, of course. He only surprises me with needles or pills . . .”
“Not Faust.” A tremulous laugh, held in.
“Some street urchin, then? Or are you a burglar? Perhaps I should struggle, hm?” He grinned, his fangs glinting in the gloom. Vlad turned, easily grabbing his hidden assailant. Her mittened hands settled on his shoulders as he brought her close for a kiss.
When he pulled back to look at her, she was smiling. “You knew it was me.”
“Of course.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you come to fetch me?”
She nodded. “It was getting late and I missed you.” Her eyes went to the near empty flower cart. “It looks like you had a good day.”
Vlad nodded. “The square was busy. People shopping for the holiday, or out getting things for their celebrations.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling his lover against his side. “Did you want to have a special celebration?”
“Being with you for the day is enough for me.” She leaned into his embrace, snuggling into his side.
“But I was here all day . . .” Vlad’s eyes opened wide. “Is that why you missed me? I shouldn’t have left you alone for the whole -”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, I knew you’d want to be here, making people smile. But now your work is done and I have you all to myself.” Her wide, beautiful eyes regarded him.
Vlad didn’t think he would ever get used to that look. Full of love and hope and joy. He couldn’t help but smile as warmth blossomed in his chest. “Then let’s make this a special evening for just the two of us.”
He picked up the last tiny poinsettia, the white bloom seemed to almost glow in the evening light. “I think this flower was waiting for you. See how glad it is that you are here?”
She leaned close, her fingers almost touching the plant. “It’s so beautiful.”
Vlad tipped her chin toward him, and kissed her again. Her lips were warm and soft, and her mouth tasted of cinnamon and spice, sweet as mulled wine. She was everything to him, and he still could not believe he held her in his arms. Centuries he’d waited, wanted, ached for her. It felt like a dream, one he never wanted to wake from. A world without her was no world worth waking to.
The snow began to fall again, tiny flakes dancing on the evening mist.
She pulled back to look up at the drifting snowflakes. “Look! It’s snowing again!” She tugged off her mitten and caught a tiny flake in the palm of her hand. “It’s like an icy bit of lace, don’t you think?” Her hand lifted to show him.
He laughed. “It is. And already starting to melt.”
“Oh no!” Her eyes widened. “I should let it go.” She waved her hand in the air to release the flake, but it held to her skin, the edges already thinning to nothing.
Only she would be worried about destroying one tiny snowflake, he thought. His silly, lovely, ridiculous girl. Vlad caught her hand and blew across it, sending the tiny snowflake skirling back into the night. Then he licked the bead of moisture from her palm, letting the tip of his tongue tickle across her skin.
She giggled and tried to pull her hand back. “Vlad! What if someone’s watching?”
“What if they are?” He kissed his way to her wrist. There he could feel the delicate tracery of her veins and vessels, the steady pulse of her kind and loving heart. “I want everyone to know how much I love you.” He nipped the spot, a promise and a tease.
“Vlad,” she repeated, breathily this time, a heat in her gaze that could melt more than a snowflake.
He tugged her mitten back over her hand. “Let’s go home. I want to celebrate you.”
“Don’t you mean with me?” She picked up her flower as he began pushing the cart.
“That too.” Vlad smiled.
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Character Profile: Fredericka del Sol
This week's profile is Fredericka! She's the Second of the Neptune department and in charge of Neptune's Reintegration division--which is essentially SolCorp's incarceration/re-programming wing where they reform Icarus (Sol agents who have committed crimes against Sol). It's really not wise to piss off Sol.
Freddie excerpt below the transcript!
Transcript of text
Fredericka del Sol (a.k.a. Freddie)
(She/Her/Hers)
Age: 35
Height: 5'6"
Knack: Light Manipulator
Affiliation: SolCorp
Department: Neptune
Big 3: Sun=Scorpio, Moon=Taurus, Rising=Capricorn
Hobbies:
Running
Killing office plants by accident
Time at the beach
Favorites:
Color: Black
Music: Portugal. The Man; PJ Harvey
Food: Breakfast burritos
Drink: Scotch
TV: True Crime
Movie: Ten Things I Hate About You (but she doesn't want you to know how much she likes it)
Fun Facts:
Neptune's Second in command and head of Reintegration
Ambitious
Efficient
Carefully cultivated RBF
Curates her personality to radiate cold intimidation but is also a very caring friend
Will not take your shit
Fox's drinking buddy
Still very capable of fieldwork, but doesn't miss the uniform
Should really be the head of Neptune
Best friends with Penn
(Icy stare-down)
(Comfy clothes for hard work)
Freddie Snippet!
(This is actually from one of my favorite scenes in the whole damn thing.)
Fredericka climbed up on the stool as Penn raised a hand to catch the bartender’s attention. “A whiskey and coke, and one plain coke, please,” he called. He sat next to Fredericka.
“Why did you just order me a whiskey and coke?” she asked him, truly offended. She didn’t drink regularly, but he damn well knew her better than that.
“You’re not thirsty?”
She didn’t respond. He was too clean cut and sharp to pull off playing dumb.
Relenting, he gave her his kindest smile. “Because if you go as hard as you want to, I’m going to have to carry you home in an hour.”
The bartender handed them their drinks and Freddie sipped it with what she hoped was an impressive level of visible spite. “What if an hour is all I can stand of you?”
“I think you’ll make it.” He glanced around the noisy bar. Penn still did field work, so he hadn’t lost the instinct to be constantly alert. She didn’t really miss it.
“Thanks for taking me for drinks even though you don’t drink.” Fredericka didn’t say thanks or sorry for nothing. It didn’t come easy to her.
Penn held up his glass. “Hey, I’m drinking.”
She rolled her eyes.
Sunset taglist. Please comment to +/- I try to keep it to character profiles, release updates, and large excerpts.
@words-after-midnight @thathaunteddoll @chayscribbles @elizaellwrites @theimperiumchronicles @thatndginger @clairelsonao3 @writeintrees @hon3yquill @scribe-of-stories @kahvilahuhut @stuffaboutwriting @iced-ginger-tea
As always, art is by my partner and co-writer.
#sunset a story character profiles#character profile#character illustration#writeblr art#original character#original characters#my oc art#my oc drawing#oc profile#character art#character design#sunset a story
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