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ask-mobile-iterator-project · 6 months

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Intro Post

This blog focuses on my Rain World OCs involved in the "Mobile Iterator Project" AU. ^_^

The “Mobile Iterator Project” (MIP) is a project created and directed by an Ancient named "No Cost Too Great" (NCTG) with the stated goal of supporting standard iterators in their productivity, maintenance, and longevity, so that they can operate at maximum efficiency, even after the inevitable mass ascension. ‘MIP Units’—iterators under the project—are created puppet-first in the "MIP Development Center" and later assigned to Local Groups, where their structures are built to support the Iterators around them.

MIP Units are uniquely developed with personality modules formed from memories and qualia donated by Architect (in-universe name for Ancient) clients. The exception to this is TWR, who was programmed more traditionally. This decision has been considered somewhat controversial, but the Director considers it essential to ensure their efficacy as replacements for the Architects, as well as for their "artistic vision" for the Project.

In total, there are 99 MIP Units, with IDs ranging from 01 to 99.

(This AU strays pretty far from the themes and canon of both Vanilla Rain World and Downpour, so please keep that in mind!)

⚠️Importantly, here are some warnings for sensitive content that may appear in the posts:

depictions of trauma and mental illness

heavy themes of manipulation (including memory manipulation)

depictions of emotional abuse

dehumanization

depictions of dissociation

identity struggles

medical malpractice/abuse, experimentation

child endangerment

generally dark themes

violence, physical abuse

infrequent body horror

When sensitive content comes up, I will leave a warning before the cut and tag as "sensitive content"!

Characters:

Starlight Symphony (SLS) she/her, [bio]

Frosted Briar (FB) she/they, [bio]

Glimmering Seafoam In Sunlight (GSIS) she/her, [bio]

Thorns Without Roses (TWR) she/they, [bio]

Perpetual Umbra (PU) they/them, [bio]

Legacy Of Famine (LOF) she/any, [bio]

*These are not all of the characters, just the main 6 that are open to receiving asks.

How it works:

Please specify who you are asking the question to, for example: (to SLS), (to SLS and FB), (to any), (to all), (to admin)

If you don’t specify, I’ll just pick myself. Though, sometimes, I might have another character answer too, if I think it might be interesting.

For admin asks, my friend’s overseer might want to add stuff too, so don’t be surprised if she shows up. For simplicity's sake, assume all admin asks are addressed to potentially both of us.

Additionally, I might add commentary sometimes, which I’ll tag with #admin commentary. My friend might do that too sometimes, so #overseer commentary for her.

I’ll do my best to answer your asks, with varying art quality, though I won’t answer all of them. Jade might answer some of them too, primarily the ones regarding, FB, as she knows them way better than I do.

We will sign off at the end of each post, denoting who handled the “broadcast” (ask.)

[Broadcast handled by admin], [Broadcast handled by overseer], [Broadcast handled by admin and overseer]

There is a light roleplaying/interactive element: The in-universe framing device for the questions is broadcasts being sent to the iterators, hence the ask button’s title. There may also be some occasional meta shenanigans.

I will be answering some questions from curiouscat rather than tumblr, and I will crosspost to twitter, too. This is probably too much work, but whatever. The askblog will be the main source of my attention, though, so posts will come here first.

Boundaries/Rules:

Please don’t ask questions related to your own OCs, because I don’t know them.

Please try to break up multiple questions into separate asks.

Nothing NSFW or suggestive.

No “magic” asks (like turning the characters into different things)

You can send items if you want, though

Please keep in mind that Frosted Briar is, for all intents and purposes, basically a child.

Rules may change as things go along and we figure stuff out!

Non-Ask Posts:

Occasionally, I may post content related to backstories and worldbuilding and stuff unrelated to asks. This will be tagged with #mip logs.

Tags:

#silly: for silly stuff

#angst: for angsty stuff

#dubiously canon: usually used in tandem with silly, but for anything that has questionable characterization

#sensitive content: content that may be triggering or upsetting

#mip worldbuilding: asks/posts related to worldbuilding

#mip lore: asks/posts related to lore!

#mip ask: in-universe asks for the ocs.

#admin ask: asks directed towards the admin/overseers

#guest appearance: asks where characters outside of the main 6 appear.

#mip logs: non-ask posts that build upon the lore/worldbuilding

#ooc: update posts, rule posts, etc.

#meta: hehe

#admin commentary: commentary from the admin (luna)

#overseer commentary: commentary from the overseer (jade or clover)

#overseer assistance: for when the overseers help with the process

#fanart: reblogs of fanart!! :D

#admin art: reblogs of luna’s, jade's or clover's art of the characters

#luna art, #jade art, #clover art: self-explanatory

#old: from the sls ask blog, consider it non-canon

#mobile iterator project, #rw mip au: self-explanatory

post is tagged with most of these

Main Admin: Luna, @mewguca

Overseer: Jade, @fauxbia

Overseer: Clover, @cloverlady

Thank you for reading!

For additional information on my OC usage permissions, please read my carrd

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monggay · 2 years

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mumbo jumbo :] haha he glows in the dark and emits radiation like if a specific 10% of his body was replaced with redstone

aka mumbo design from my hc x the mechanisms au and as usual, rambles under the cut !

also see: pearl as gunpowder tim, gem as drumbot brian, and cleo as ashes o'reilly !

so like the mechanisms are a band but they all have characters that they play and have lore and tell stories (theyre immortal space pirates who roam stars in the starship aurora having fun violence and more violence etc etc) GHSJHKFSH im not gonna ramble abt them anymore lol @lucky-sevens is a very good resource for all things mechs + check out lyric vids of their songs on here + their official site

SO BASICALLY, mumbo right? i know i said hed be nastya and he does share some stuff w her but then ppl reminded me of who would be aurora and what of nastyas backstory and i realized tango would be a better fit for those details of nastya so (ex princess tango + starship impulse !!! zed is the ships doctor btw n his mechanism is his brain) i decided to mix n match stuff from different characters n change whatevers, so now about mumbo:

his mechanism is his blood ! which is replaced with redstone :] this makes him radioactive, and also glow red. hes also like, a powered redstone circuit or w/e they are, and can power things by touching them/being near them even. i think redstone would be terrible for circulation but also that i think redstone itself would be pretty hot, being radioactive and all (especially powered redstone)

the coat + gloves etc are for hiding the glow (and also maybe some of the radiation??? i cant imagine that would be very good for normal people), and the scarf is for his head when he goes out n such

the mustache is fake. yeah. mumbo got meched young and did not get a mustache u_u

i think theyd have a backstory kinda like ashes, mumbo worked for the governemnt as a scientist/weapons expert but double crossed them for the rebellion or smth and got assassinated/sabotaged via lab safety violations

ok thats all i got for now abt mumbo

im kinda thinkin if ill keep the original number of 9 mechanisms or if ill add more hermits, i want other mcyts to be album characters and such, with one smp focused on one album maybe, but i dont know if i wanna add hermits as albums characs or as more mechs. maybe them as non-mechs immortals? like king cole or lyf or briar etc. thoughts on etho as carmilla tho?

btw i read everthin ppl say on my posts!!!!! i love all of ur hermitmechs ideas !!!!!!!! im grateful for each and everyone even the keysmashes u_u <3 all three characters in this au so far is now tagged under #hermitmechs!

#the mechanisms #mumbo jumbo #mumbo jumbo fanart #maeart #hermitmechs #just remembered that this was what i originally wanted to put up for mechtober prompt crossover so here u go :)!#u can still rly tell lmao that i just put what i remember of nastyas outfit on him lol #next ive got sort of cleo as jonny/ashes or false as marius ish :]]]]#this ones for all you mumboboys out there

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

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📖"Alpha, Beta (& Omega)"

Rated: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4286

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, nobility/royalty au, alternate history, dom/sub elements, beta bucky, anal sex, oral sex, hurt/comfort, first time, age gap, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, wedding night, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

To read previous parts of this series first, go to the story's masterlist

17. A Homecoming

This Chapter: “You cried. Even when you were coming. The way that you shivered, the way you let me have you then, it was so gorgeous. You’re always gorgeous, Bucky ... I love you."

Bucky dreads the journey back across the Atlantic, moderately convinced that he’ll experience sea sickness, just like before. Steve reminds him that he hadn’t been seasick before, just ill, but the illogical part of Bucky’s brain keeps him nervous nonetheless.

Five days at sea prove Bucky wrong and Steve right, but when the ship docks in the D.C. Harbor, Bucky still steps onto solid ground with a sigh of relief.

It’s nearly noon. Steve says he has business to attend to and that they’ll stop by his offices, then spend the night in the city before leaving for New York in the morning. It isn’t until Steve hails a cab for them that Bucky realizes where this means they’ll be going.

It’s bittersweet, being in the capitol. Bucky is silent for the car ride through the city, eyeing the neoclassical buildings that he used to frequent himself as a young boy, when he’d tag along on infrequent but exciting visits to D.C. He’d been an heir to something then, and his father had brought him along on those trips to educate him, show him what he was to inherit someday. Bucky had been proud of that.

The hardest bit, of course, is stepping out of the car with Steve and going into the Senate office complex. They pass by the quarters of the New Jersey Seats, and Bucky feels his feet falter when he sees the door where his father’s chambers were—Were, because the brass plate with the Barnes’ name and House crest have been taken down, a pale spot of wall left in its wake. Bucky swallows heavily, thinking about his mother and sisters all of a sudden, thinking about whose name will replace theirs on the wall.

“Buck,”—Steve’s soft voice, his hand on Bucky’s left one. Even through the dullness of the nerve damage, Bucky can feel the gentle squeeze that he gives. “Come on, I’m right down this way.”

Bucky allows Steve to move him past the New Jersey Seats’ offices, and they continue on until they reach another door. Bucky eyes the Rogers’ House crest: a star within two concentric circles. The Barnes’ crest isn’t—wasn’t, Bucky reminds himself, there is no House Barnes anymore—so dissimilar. A red star in a circle of silver, angled lines across. Steve’s star is white, the crest red white and blue, just like the flag. Bucky trails into the office after Steve, figuring that this is his crest now, too.

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Steve tells him. “I just have to catch up on a few things I missed while we were away.”

Bitterly, Bucky thinks about how Steve had managed to find time to telegram his vote for George Barnes’ impeachment. He holds his tongue, however. Steve has been kind to him since the night they left Istanbul, almost coddling. Bucky hasn’t known how to feel about that. He vacillates between shy acceptance and righteous indignation. But the acceptance has been winning out. He’s not sure how to feel about that, either. “Kay,” he says in response to Steve, vaguely uncomfortable with how naturally the deference to his Alpha comes.

Steve pecks a kiss to his forehead, then goes over and starts speaking with his secretary. The secretary is sharp as a tack, immediately jumping into business and handing Steve stacks of papers. Bucky watches, distracted from the particulars of their conversation by the sight of the secretary himself.

He’s a married omega, judging by his stature and dress. Bucky’s interest is piqued, and he steps closer. The man is middle-aged, hair receding at the corners in a way that forebodes future baldness. He’s got a collar that’s simple and shows just the slightest bit over his work clothes. Bucky glances up to Steve, enthused that his husband would hire any omega, let alone a married one.

Does Steve hold more liberal ideas than Bucky has been assuming? It’s a possibility that makes Bucky’s heart beat a little faster, as he thinks of how far Steve’s allowances might extend, of what this might mean for Bucky in their marriage. What if Steve thinks that married Betas should be able to work, too? After all, employing an omega is quite radical, and a married beta working outside the home is hardly anything compared to that. Bucky’s lips part as he thinks of it, watches the secretary go back to writing once Steve moves away. Is it too much to dream that Steve would let him attend college? Or maybe even—

“Buck.”

Bucky sucks in a breath, startled out of his thoughts. “Mm?”

Steve is tilting his head at the other door. “My office.”

They go in, the door snicking softly shut behind them. Bucky looks around while Steve drops all the papers onto his desk and sits down to deal with them. Steve’s office is darker than most other rooms in the capitol, the décor less formal. He’s wallpapered it in deep green, the bookshelves that line either side of the fireplace are mahogany, and instead of the standard pair of conversation sofas and end tables, there is simply a leather chair and matching chaise. Bucky instantly likes the room. It feels cozy.

“You can sit,” Steve offers from over at his desk. He’s reading his mail, a pen poised loosely in one hand. “The books are boring, mostly law, but poke around if you want.”

Bucky nods, not looking away from the sight of Steve at his desk. He’s never seen him at work before, fulfilling his role as a Senator. Bucky studies his husband: the crease of his brow as he focuses in on whatever he’s reading, the way his eyes squint, how the corners of his mouth turn down sometimes. It’s attractive, endearing even. Steve takes his duties seriously, that much is evident. Something about it makes Bucky both jealous and mildly affectionate. His husband is a good man ...

He scowls at himself and turns to the bookshelves, determined to distract himself from fawning over Steve doing a job that should rightfully be Bucky’s as well. He scans the book titles, scowling a little more with what he has to choose from. Steve hasn’t lied—the majority of the spines are well over three inches wide, with titles and roman numerals indicating many volumes and sections of law. Despite his upbringing, Bucky has never felt fascinated by the study of law. Still, he doesn’t want to make Steve think that he’s only interested in silly novels, so he avoids the small section of slimmer paperback books down the way. He eventually settles on a volume of nautical history and sits with it, skimming over the boring sections to read about the wars. He pauses at an illustrated page: a photograph of a battle between enemy ships in the war with Mexico—the nation’s most recent conflict, and a war in which Steve fought.

"First photograph ever captured of a naval battle," the caption reads. Bucky’s eyes dart over to Steve at his desk, then back to the page. The image is grainy, not as well-developed as current photos would be, obviously taken years ago and clearly in a less than optimal conditions. The ships are bulky, ugly looking things. Black smoke curls into the air from recent gunfire, and men can be seen floating in the water, some clearly dead, but some not.

Bucky thinks about Steve and his full military title: Captain Lord Steven Grant of House Rogers. The import of a nobleman’s military rank cannot be overstated. One’s rank—if they have it—always comes first in their title. High Nobility of the Senate and lower Society of Congress can’t be drafted. So if they serve, it's only ever by choice.

Bucky looks back at Steve, staring at him openly now. He tries to imagine Steve younger: ten, or even twelve years ago. He’dve been eighteen then, just old enough to enlist and probably racing to do so, patriotic as he is. He'd barely been out of boyhood before he'd signed up for a war and been given an automatic rank of something high enough to merit a gentleman of Society.

Bucky thinks about that, about what it would have meant for Steve at such a young age, having to deal with all the responsibility, the fighting and the killing. Bucky’s an appropriately educated young man. He knows how ugly the war was, how much carnage and death there'd been, with the advent of new weapons that increased the carnage of war exponentially. He’s never bothered to think of Steve’s history very much, and he finds that he hates imagining Steve in the middle of all that chaos and suffering. He thinks of how Steve's told him that he sometimes has nightmares from it ...

Stop, he tells himself. Stop building him up like he's some great hero. He's just a man, and a lucky one at that. He's one of the most privileged citizens in the entire country, and he'll never have to bow down to an Alpha Headship.

Bucky snaps the book shut perhaps a bit too harshly, and Steve’s head pops up at the sound. "Everything okay?"

Bucky shrugs and gets up to place the book back on the shelf. "Yes."

“Sorry,” Steve says, smiling apologetically. “I won’t be too long, I promise. Then we can go home.”

“'Home',” Bucky echoes. “Where’s that?” House Barnes had always kept apartments in the capitol, but never anything that felt like a home.

“Georgetown,” Steve says. “Decatur House was my mother’s favorite residence.” His eyelashes lower as he looks down, smiling wistfully in a way that tugs on some string in Bucky’s chest. “She had to be in D.C. so often, so my fathers went out of their way to make it into a home for her. They loved her so much. Renovated the whole house just to try and make her happy.”

Bucky wonders if that’s a veiled statement aimed at himself. “Do you like it better here, then?”

Steve looks at him with a fond smirk. “There’s no place like home, and there's no home like Brooklyn.”

Decatur House is grand, no doubt, though far homier than Steve’s London or Paris apartments had been. It’s late when they enter and the servants take their coats and luggage. Bucky feels quite exhausted. He makes his way upstairs and finds what must be the master bedroom. He looks around, pausing when he opens a pocket door and discovers what he knows is a little room for …

“It’s a nesting closet,” Steve says softly. He’s right behind bucky, having arrived somewhere in the last moment.

Bucky tenses, feeling caught for looking into the tiny room. It’s hardly bigger than an actual closet, and there are no linens or other items inside. It’s bare, but he's well aware of it’s intended use. If he and Steve ever found an omega, they’d hole up in here, take turns fucking him (or her), satisfying them through their heat. Steve would get their omega pregnant. And they’d give birth in there. The tiny room would carry all three of their scents. Nesting closets are the most intimate places in a household, even more so than the marriage bed.

Bucky bites his lip, looking inside. “You want children?” he asks. “One day?”

Steve is quiet, but then he inches closer and wraps his arms around Bucky's waist, looking over his shoulder at the bare nesting closet. “Yeah," he says softly. "I do. Do you?”

Bucky shrugs, not sure why that should matter. If his Headship wants a dozen children, that’s his prerogative. Betas, and especially male Betas like Bucky, get no say in such matters. And anyway, he and Steve will need to find their Third for that, first. “I dunno,” he mumbles, sliding out of Steve’s hold and heading towards the ensuite bathroom. He heaves a sigh at the sight of the overly large porcelain tub. Yes.

He inhales in surprise when Steve comes up behind him again, hands landing at his waist and drawing their bodies back together. Steve kisses the side of his head. “Tired?”

Bucky hums and fights off a yawn. “Thought I’d get a bath,” he says.

“Care if I join you?” Steve’s hands rub up and down his sides. He kisses at his neck and murmurs, “I’d like to be close tonight.”

Bucky shivers, feeling heat flush through him. The tone of Steve’s voice when he says that ... It gets to Bucky. He exhales slowly, trying not to show his nerves. He’s a married man, now, for christ's sake. His husband making his intentions obvious shouldn’t be enough to get Bucky blushing—it shouldn’t. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Okay.”

They haven’t been together since that night in Turkey, when Steve disciplined him. It hasn’t been bad between them since then, they just haven’t had sex.

Bucky’s feeling more awake now, as he watches Steve pass him into the bathroom and undress. He's just as handsome as ever, and Bucky forgets to be shy as he bites his lip and drinks in the sight of the Alpha's body.

He’s pulled from his perusal when Steve, fully nude, chuckles and comes over to him. “Hey. You see something you like?” he teases, reaching for Bucky’s shirt. Bucky nods and Steve smiles indulgently as he undresses him. Thankfully, the house’s gas lighting is kept low enough at this hour to prevent Bucky from feeling like he needs to turn his bad side away. Steve’s seen it all by now, anyhow, and he apparently still wants to be married, still wants to see Bucky naked and touch him and ...

“Here.” Steve is gently taking his wrists, removing his wedding bands one at a time and placing them carefully atop the vanity. His thumbs rub gently along the skin where the metal rested before. "Better?"

Bucky swallows heavily at the look Steve’s giving him: dark, wanting. "Yeah," he rasps. "Thanks."

“Come on,” Steve says kindly. “You get the water hot, I’ll grab towels.”

"Okay."

Steve pads to the other side of the bathroom, giving him a moment of space. Bucky screws his eyes shut, wondering when the hell he’ll ever get used to being intimate this way. Soon, he hopes. It's embarrassing to feel so virginal with his more experienced husband.

He turns the tap, skimming the fingers of his left hand under the water until he can sense that it’s warming. He switches to his right hand then, not confident that the left can gauge when the temperature gets too high. A twist of the cold water tap adjusts it to what he deems acceptable, and Bucky plugs the drain, climbing in and sitting forward in the tub without really thinking about it. Steve gets in and sits behind him, and Bucky forces himself to lean back. Steve’s body is hard and warm, his knees coming up a little to cradle him at either side. The water rises, creeping higher up their bodies, and Bucky sighs as the warmth gradually envelops them. It's heavenly.

Steve groans. “God, I’ve missed a proper-sized tub.”

“Yeah.” On the ship and even in Europe, the tubs were all tiny. He and Steve can fit together in this one with no trouble at all. Bucky lets his head tip back to rest against Steve’s shoulder. “S’nice." Steve’s hands find his hips, fingers trailing over the points of his hipbones, moving in to just barely skim the edge of where his pubic hair starts before traveling up either side of his ribcage. Bucky shivers, pretends it’s due to the temperature difference of the air and the still-shallow bath water. “Mmm,” he sighs, closing his eyes and relaxing into the touches.

Steve strokes up and down his sides, one hand rubbing over his abs and the other going up to his chest. “I’ve missed this,” he says. His voice is right against Bucky’s ear. “It’s been too long since I’ve touched you.”

“It’s only been a week,” Bucky murmurs.

“Too long.”

“Mm, yeah.” He thinks back to the spanking, and the sex they’d had afterwards, that night in Turkey. Under the bath water, he feels his cock start to harden. “I’ve felt … I dunno, shy, maybe. Around you. Since that night.”

Steve kisses his neck at the admission, humming as if he already knew that. He probably did. “Yeah. I figured as much.”

Oddly, Bucky finds himself wanting to talk about it as Steve keeps touching him. “I’ve never been punished like that,” he says.

Steve hums curiously. “Discipline wasn’t administered in your Household?”

“No, it was. We just never …” Bucky swallows, remembering the bite of Steve’s belt. “Corporal punishment was rare, I suppose. My parents were lax.” He knows that many—if not most—of Society would disapprove of just how lax his upbringing had been. “I was never spanked but a handful of times.” Steve snorts, and Bucky's lips quirk, too. “It's true. And never anything but a hand over the clothes."

"I see." Steve’s hand that’s been touching his abs moves lower, finding his cock in the water. Bucky inhales shakily and Steve kisses his neck again and whispers, “How did it make you feel?” He starts stroking him with the barest amount of pressure.

“The, um ... spanking? erm, b-belt?”

“Yes.”

Bucky glances down to Steve’s hand wrapped around him, heat gathering in his cheeks as he admits, “Scared, at first. But mostly … mostly embarrassed I guess.”

Steve makes an understanding noise. His hand gets a little tighter. “You’re not naturally submissive,” he says.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I like your headstrong attitude.” He chuckles and presses his erection against Bucky’s backside. “It’s attractive, usually.”

“Usually."

“Mmhm. Not when you put yourself in danger though. That’s why I punished you.”

“I know.” Perversely, the reminder from Steve about his authority over him only makes Bucky's belly swirl harder. He feels embarrassment at remembering being punished, but ... not entirely in a bad way. He licks his lips, eyes glued to Steve's hand around his cock. “After," he says. "When you ... when you had sex with me."

“Mmhm?” Steve gives him a long, tight stroke and Bucky moans softly.

“It was so …” he struggles to find the words, partly because of what Steve’s doing between his legs, and partly because it'd been so confusing, that night. "It was good.”

“Yeah?" Steve purrs. He swipes his thumb over the head of Bucky's dick, then gives a slow squeeze. "You liked me taking control? Reminding you who your Headship is?”

"Ohn." Bucky moans and nods. “Y-yeah.” Steve’s right: he’s not naturally submissive the way an omega or even some betas would be. But having Steve assert his control still feels good sometimes. Admitting this to Steve—and to himself—is hard. It’s also getting him off. “It hurt," he whispers. "A lot.”

“It was supposed to.”

“But after, it was good. You made me feel so good. I came and, and …” he trails off as Steve’s stroking becomes faster and more purposeful. “Oh, yeah. Steve, please.”

“You cried,” Steve says, voice a little rougher from his own arousal. “Even when you were coming.” He nips Bucky’s neck, scraping his teeth across the skin. “The way that you shivered, the way you let me have you then, it was so gorgeous.” Bucky starts to come, tipping over the edge from Steve’s words and releasing underneath the water. He grunts in surprise, knows that Steve knows he’s coming because his hand gentles and then eases off. “You’re always gorgeous,” he whispers. “Bucky, I want …”

“Yeah,” Bucky pants, catching his breath after the sudden orgasm. Suddenly, the warm bathwater holds little interest. He struggles up to standing in the tub, legs feeling like jelly. “Come on.”

They dry off hastily and kiss their way into the bedroom. Bucky is sated and lazy by the time Steve draws him down onto the bed, but he enjoys the kissing and warm, full-body connection of their skin. He thinks maybe he can get hard again in a little bit. “Want you,” he tells Steve between kisses, hands running up and down his damp back. “Want to feel you inside me tonight.”

Steve nods and rubs down harder, his cock insistent against Bucky’s belly. “Yeah?”

They make out some more, pawing all over each other until Bucky starts to feel that telltale thrum of pleasure building up again. He twists partway out from under Steve to reach for the bedside drawer. … But it’s empty. His heart sinks and he looks back at Steve. “There’s not any … any slick,” he whispers, embarrassed.

“Ugh.” Steve groans and gives him a placating kiss before rolling away to go into the closet. Bucky can hear him rummaging through their suitcases, before he returns triumphantly with a small jar of lubricant. He's grinning as he settles in between Bucky’s spread legs and wets his hand, reaching down to pass fingers over his hole. Bucky gasps, and Steve’s eyes flick up to his. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, overly sensitive to Steve’s gentle fingers, and annoyed that they need the lube at all. He's the only iteration of a Spouse Steve would ever have to go to this trouble with, after all. A female beta would be easy and natural just like a male or female omega would, but with Bucky, it's work. “Just wish I could do it myself," he mumbles, face hot.

Steve's distracted where he's staring down at what he’s doing, eyes dark with arousal. “Do what?” he asks, pressing in with that first finger and humming when it makes Bucky sigh.

“Slick up,” Bucky says quietly, closing his eyes because this is embarrassing to admit. “Feel my body get wet for you. Open up easily, or ... be in heat”

Steve completely freezes, his body stiffening up.

Bucky opens his eyes, and sure enough, Steve is staring in surprise. Bucky instantly regrets what he’s said. “I mean, it's not, I don’t …” Steve isn’t looking away and Bucky wants to die. “Nevermind,” he mumbles. "That's stupid."

“No,” Steve says emphatically, only the tone of his voice isn't reproachful or shocked; it's turned on. Bucky can see it in his eyes, fell it in how eager he gets, how he thrusts his finger all the way in and curls it. Bucky gasps and Steve hums, "Yeah." He lies over him, tongue dipping into his mouth on the next kiss, bossy and eager. “Bucky, Honey," he says, rocking his hips down. "That’s so hot.” He keeps moving his finger, stroking over that spot that makes sparks dance up Bucky's spine. “You really fantasize about that?”

Bucky whines in mortification, but he nods. “Yeah.” They’ve never done this before, never talked about the things that they imagine. He feels relief flood him at Steve’s obvious acceptance. It gives him the confidence to admit, “I just like the idea of ... of being easy for you. You know? Wish you could just ... slip inside." He blushes as he whispers that last, though Steve's groan bolsters his confidence enough for him to say, "I want to be able to share that with you.”

Steve kisses him passionately and nods. He starts to add another finger and goes slow as he presses in. “You are. God, Honey, you’re so good for me. So good. Got no idea. I love you.”

Bucky tenses, and then so does Steve as he realizes what he’s said. For a second, it feels like Bucky's breath has been stolen away, as he blinks up at Steve, mouth working, trying to figure out what to say back to that. “You … you love me?” he whispers.

Steve looks vaguely afraid, but he doesn’t pull away. “Yeah, I do.” He nods solemnly, easing his fingers further inside. “I do, Buck.”

Bucky is honestly too flabbergasted to worry about saying it back. The thought doesn't even occur to him. He moans quietly and pulls Steve down for another, heated kiss, pushing down against his hand and the fingers inside him. Steve's body loses its tension, no longer worried that he’s upset Bucky with the declaration. When they part from the kiss, Bucky says, “I want to take your knot.”

Steve’s eyes widen, but Bucky doesn’t miss the flash of lust that he quickly tries to hide. “Bucky …”

“Yes,” Bucky urges. He grinds down against Steve’s hand. “I can take it. You can make me loose enough.” He kisses him hotly, dominating, trying to show how eager he is for it. “I want to feel it, please. I want to give that to you.”

Steve groans, pained. “Baby, no. I can’t. We can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky whines and starts to argue again, but Steve shushes him and gives a pointed rub against his prostate, smiling at Bucky’s helpless moan. “You already give me everything I want,” he tells him. “You let me inside your sweet body. Do you have any idea how hot that is? How much that gets to me?”

Bucky shudders. “But if you could—”

“No, Buck. I won’t.” Steve mashes their mouths together in a firm command, clearly ordering Bucky to shut up about being knotted. “It’s enough just knowing that you want to make me feel good like that,” he promises. “I can’t tell you how amazing that is. Makes me want you so bad.” Between Bucky’s legs, his hand pulls away, leaving him empty. Bucky whines at the loss, but Steve shushes him and slots between his legs, holding the head of his cock to his entrance, rubbing it around in the slick. “I love you, Bucky,” he says again, this time with far more confidence than before. He’s bright-eyed, making Bucky feel so desired, so wanted. He almost wants to say it back …

Steve presses forward, slipping in with a quick flash of pain. Bucky gasps and clings to him, pushing down against it, taking more, accepting Steve inside his body. He breathes out in a surprised little ‘Oh’, when Steve settles in him all the way, and it’s so good. Heat floods him when Steve makes a very satisfied rumble in return.

“You see? You’re perfect,” he husks, grinding deep in his body and kissing his neck. “You feel so good, Beta.”

Bucky flushes at the title, smiling despite himself. Steve has always managed to make him feel significant in that way, as if just the two of them are special—an Alpha and Beta without their Third. He wraps himself around Steve, hands in his hair and knees tucked around his waist, moving with him as Steve begins to roll his hips. Bucky moans quietly as the pleasure continues to build. Before long, he's clenching his eyes shut as he gets too close, too fast. “Wait, wait, wait,” he pants, squirming underneath Steve, trying to get him to stop that perfect rhythm. It's too soon. “Wait, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good,” Steve rasps, not stopping. “Open your eyes, Honey. Look at me.”

His thumb traces the skin of his temple, encouraging, and Bucky opens his eyes. Steve is looking down at him with such an intense look of want, it makes Bucky shudder and the tightness in his stomach coil precariously. "M'close," he whimpers. "Steve, Steve ..."

“It’s okay,” Steve soothes. “I want you to. Come on Sweetheart, let me feel it.” He dips down and kisses his parted lips, his jaw, over to the shell of his ear. A hot swipe of tongue makes Bucky tense and cry out.

"Oh ..."

“Love feeling you cum when I’m inside you, Buck. Love knowing it's me who did it, who fucked it outta you,” Steve whispers in his ear, and Bucky moans and shoots into orgasm.

Series Masterlist

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Tags: @scottishrosefury, @not-that-syndrigast, @lolitsbuckybarnes, @kathy-2005, @stuckysgal, @thenewmissescullen, @sapphirebarnes, @Yoruse, @autumnrose40, @alexakeyloveloki

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magmalaz · 1 year

Text

I just created a Hi-Fi Rush AU!(along with a friend who has enabled my hyperfixation) :D Presenting...

The Swapped!AU (or the HiFiSwapped!AU, for tagging purposes)

This Au changes the main team, loosely like this:

Chai is Chai, he is eternal

Peppermint gets replaced by Kale

808 gets replaced by a new character, 373 the doggo bot

Macaron gets replaced by Zanzo

Korsica gets replaced by Rekka

and Roquefort is there

On top of that, Peppermint replaces Kale as the CEO (And Macaron replaces Zanzo, but yeah)

I also replaced Roquefort with a brainwashed Roxanne as the Head of Finance because i really wanted to keep it down with the ocs.

Ok! Now i show you my designs and explain more (cut here because this is a long post)

First of:

AU!Peppermint

I based most of her redesign on her costumes.

In this AU, she felt ignored by her family due to Kale being the favored child and, after a few years of planning, took over Vandelay Technologies.

She usurped the company from Roxanne simularly to Kale, using a program/AU!Spectra to control Roxanne to step down and become the Head of Finance instead.

She is a hands on type of person, so she is more prominent than Kale was canonically.

AU!Kale

His and Peppermints ages are closer together in this Au.

Kale is pretty simular to his canon self. He was used to other people doing most of the work for him and is very bossy at the start. He left home because he felt like he wasn't his own person(and because he thought his mother was too overbearing).

He was, like Peppermint, very skeptical of Chai in the beginning, but he was glad to not have to do all the dirty work anymore.

He can overcharge doors and vents, but he can't break the shields of the enemies. Due to this, they don't get introduced until the R&D tracks. Oh and Zanzo takes this over once he gets around.

This counts as an oc i think. 373 (Now known as Subw00fr!) My baby boy!

He was named after a synthesizer

373 is Kales version of 808! He is based on a golden retriever. Nothing more to say here this is the best one

AU!Roquefort

This version of him starts as a human, suffering from a chronic illness. He was a family friend of the Vandelays and stuck around with Kale as a father figure.

As the story progresses, he will eventually look like his canon version. This lets him do the same things Korsica canonically does.

AU!Rekka

Rekka starts as the Head of Production like in canon. She is a lot less overbearing and more reasonable (She is still the strict Boss we love tho-) and she is very skeptical of Peppermint, as in this AU she was the Head of Production under Roxanne as well.

After the canon fight, instead of exploding she joins the gang instead (due to Roquefort convincing her. Neither Kale nor Chai would manage that at this point)

Due to her strength, she can break Z-Shielding, which gets introduced earlier in this AU. And she replaces Korsica in the Hideout.

AU!Zanzo

Zanzo was the Head of R&D under Roxanne instead of Macaron. His money spending habits were not canon-level bad in this AU because otherwise this would not work-

He was subsequently thrown out as Peppermint took over and from then on hid in R&D. Alone.

In this AU he was also the one that build Kales robot body after an accident. This is so I can write drama because they now know eachother.

Zanzo replaces Macaron in the Hideout and can overload regular shielding(with his swords like the anime character he is) . He also constantly tests new stuff on Chai, under the guise of 'Training'.

Sooo

I will be writing a fanfiction on this AU and i will link it here once i get it going!

Hope you enjoyed my chaos!

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aroace-poly-show · 6 months

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Hi, I have a bunch of random questions about hw! 1) Do they sing the songs their group makes themselves? 2) Do they film their shows in the real world or in the Sekai? Do the virtual singers help them with that? 3) Are their relationships outside of hw more or less the same (e.g. Tsukasa with Toya or Rui with Mizuki)? 4) How likely are they to be recognized even with their masks? Has anybody in their lives already recognized them? Thank you for making this au, it lives in brain now

AWWAWAWAWA TJANK YOU FOR THE ASK I YELLED WHEN I SAW IT /POS

1- everyone except nene does, starting off!! given everything thats gone on with her, pre-main story she still can’t get herself to sing anymore, even for online songs where she isn’t performing in front of an actual in person audience. after main story she gets more resolve, and she does take some time to start singing again, but with her very supportive friends she starts to find her confidence in singing again :) (can i mention how overjoyed rui gets about it. can i mention how much he missed her voice. can i mention how AGAIN he is filled with so much guilt around how the sound of her singing coming from her room was replaced by suffocating silence after what happened. can i mention how genuinely happy for her and proud of her he is, that despite it all, that maybe they really do have a chance here, all together. sorry i’m insane about rui and that doesn’t change here.)

2- i’ve been debating on whether or not they start filming their shows at the closed off wonder stage actually! they do start off filming in sekai at least. i think both areas have their pros and cons, so they might end up alternating. not sure yet.

3- tsukasa and toya’s relationship have stayed the same, and same with saki. tsukasa’s past has actually stayed practically the same in general. i haven’t changed much about his.

mizurui on the other hand. ohohohohohohoho. fun fact i was brainrotting specifically about swap au mizurui a lot a while ago. bc this au co exists with wxs-ified n25. dont look at the old tag i had for them please. i want to fix them cause i have more stuff i want to add and like. do it better. but i haven’t gotten around to it. all you need to know is n25 now does theater shows together instead. yahoo. anyway i think about swap au mizurui a lot. because. augh. their relationship has stayed very similar to canon, being lonely outcasts who found each other on that rooftop, but it makes me ill bc. rui introduces mizuki to theater and shows. he might not do them anymore but he sometimes talks about them with mizuki and mizuki can see the love he had for them and they get curious. and they give it a try and find so much joy into doing shows and being able to express themselves on stage with less judgement while they act and finding people who DO accept them and while they’re not able to stay long it gives them hope, that there are people who will accept them as they are, and if mizuki’s lucky they won’t even lose them. like. rui who was so hurt by theater and things that happened with it and mizuki who finds so much comfort and hope in it. are you hearing me.

4- through the power of luck none of them really get discovered. i think the one thats the most likely to be recognized is tsukasa though, maybe with saki or toya stumbling upon one of their videos.

thank you for the ask again aND TY FOR LIKING IT I SAY IT A LOT BUT IM SO HAPPY IM INFECTING MORE PEOPLE W MY BRAINROT they make me insane

#asks #hollow ☆ wonderland

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ssmtskw · 6 months

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Hello and welcome!

Replacing my pinned with a list of the stuff I've written for anyone checking my account out. Heh. Everything is sorted by fandom, and then word count! (And if there's something I should add to the tagging, please feel free to send me a message about it so I can make the edits.) Enjoy... hopefully!

RWRB

some part of me came alive - 10,979 words [college-ish AU, 5+1]

"Bye David." David's head snaps back to Alex's direction, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly you'd think it wasn't even there. Alex, having just removed his glasses again as he yawns once more, doesn't see it. David takes a couple seconds before slightly shaking his head, like he's just imagining something and is now actively wiping the thought away. He opens the door before he responds. "Bye Alex."

(Or: The five times Alex unintentionally calls Henry by his dog’s name, and the one time he does it on purpose.)

Francesca - 10,189 words [graphic depictions and references of violence/abuse/injuries]

Once, in a much worse place before all of this; Alex had worked for someone with one side of his office overflowing with books. He'd read all sorts of things there: Anatomy, selected works in philosophy, Oliver Twist, war hero accounts, law. Anything he could get a hold of in the dark, really. Among those books were a bible. There's a passage there that stuck— something he'd only read past but had barraged into the walls of Alex's mind three years ago, Book of Jeremiah, chapter 17, verse 9: The heart is more deceitful than anything else and is desperate. Who can know it?

Love Songs in the Key of Liam - 8,152 words [Liam POV/centric, 5+1]

It's fucked. He's fucked — Liam, that is. There was no way this was going to work. Ever. What's the next worst thing to growing up closeted in a typically close-minded neighbourhood? Probably developing a crush on your best friend who lives in said neighbourhood. (Or: The five times love songs reminded Liam of his now estranged best friend, and the one time it reminded him of someone else.)

Terrible Things - 4,038 words [Hanahaki AU, hurt/no comfort]

"How long?" That, he can answer. "A year or so." He croaks out, not really wanting to strain himself any further.

water in my hands - 3,521 words [sickfic(?), has references to illness, hurt/no comfort]

It takes Alex a good amount of time to realise; sometimes love just isn't enough to keep the world going, even if he desperately wanted it to.

no question (he'll hold your heart if you let him) - 2,837 words [June POV/outsider POV, post-canon]

June doesn't think much about it at first, putting the box along the pile, but she belatedly realises what it is and gets an idea. A satisfied grin makes its way onto her lips when she finally finds it, an edition of Astrotalk that detailed star sign compatibilities. June doesn't open the magazine all the way to the Libra section, stopping short at someone else's instead. (Or: June finds a box that contained one of her teenage fixations and goes through it for old time's sake.)

Smoke Slow - 2,026 words [shotgun kissing oneshot basically]

“Hey.” Alex says, just for the sake of saying something, the silence between them wasn’t stifling but he didn’t want to risk their interaction coming to an end just because he’s not engaging enough. Henry gives him a sideways glance. “Teach me how to do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. The shotgun.” For a moment, Alex briefly considers how idiotic that probably sounded to Henry. It wasn’t a hard task to mimic, but Alex had long thrown out his composure out the fences of Pez’s house when Henry put the goddamn stick into his mouth.

i'll be happy (just to have known you) - 1,855 words [hurt/no comfort]

Henry resigns himself to the reality that Alex—albeit distant and unattainable—still managed to break through his dismal world and grant him a light he never imagined was still possible to exist. This was enough. This was more than he'd ever expected for himself. It was the universe's way of extending an olive branch in response to the cards he'd been dealt with. He'd be stupid not to take it.

dreamy little you - 1,666 words [crack-ish AU, post-canon]

"Of course, love, but would you love yourself if you were a worm?" This visibly stumps Alex. If the way his mouth just opened for a rebuttal and coming up empty is anything to go by.

only got a hundred - currently at 4,008 words

An ongoing collection of 100-word drabbles written according to the Brownstone server's prompts.

Haikyuu

Ceilings (he thinks it's not real, it is) - 6,009 words [light angst and pining with a happy? ending]

“Yo, you sleepy?” Takahiro meant to say that no, he isn't. That Issei looks stupid with his hair messed up like that. That he should be asking Issei that, with the bags under his eyes speaking for themselves. Instead, what comes out is, “I miss you.” It would be so easy to take the opportunity now. But still, Takahiro is terrified of ruining things. Or: Takahiro has graduation blues, and Issei makes him feel better, but things don't just end there.

Bloom - 1,444 words [two-dialogue challenge oneshot, retrospective? angst/no comfort]

Matsukawa Issei is not much of a sentimental person, save for special occasions where he has no choice but to reminisce.

Cruel (what your mind can do for no reason) - 1,012 words [light angst/comfort, implications of dissociation]

Issei struggles through a bad mental health night, Takahiro breezes him through the tail end of it.

Shameless (US)

big guns out, shoot now - 3,257 words [first kiss oneshot]

It's kind of out of character for Ian, really, he's always careful about not blurting out or doing shit that tapped into his feelings on the brunette, around the very subject of his affections. Has been, in fact, for the last two years and counting. Not that it got any easier to maintain, there are always slip ups (Exhibit A: right here, right now), but that's solely his problem.

On the Off Chance - 5,780 words [soulmate AU, ongoing]

To say Ian was relieved when he hears Mickey confirm how he did not, in fact, get his soulmate mark just a couple days after coming of age would be a huge understatement. (Or: Soulmate marks only show up when the younger of the pair turns nineteen– which isn’t uncommon, to say the least.)

#fics #ao3 #rwrb #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic #shameless (us)#shameless (us) fanfic #matsuhana #gallavich

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 9 months

Note

What do you think of Soulmate AU with the Grimm Reapers where every person is born with a symbol/tattoo that changes color according to your soulmate mood and will start glowing once you meet them. When your soulmate d*es, the tattoo loses color and turns grey. Now imagine your tattoo is already grey from the moment you're born (since Reapers commited s******) meaning your soulmate d*ed before you were even born! Everyone feels sorry for you but you accepted the fact. But one day, your tattoo unexpectedly starts to glow!

aaaaaaaa it makes me cry, is what I think!! so obviously I had to write it XD

and you don't have to put asterisks like that with the words, tbh; while I do tag triggers when I can, replacing letters like that makes it more difficult for blacklist to catch it. I've had my own issues with it, as well as reading others' thoughts.

for example, typing out "suicide" will cause blacklist to catch it, so that any post with the full word "suicide" will be blocked if someone has "suicide" blacklisted. if you type "s******" or "su*cide" or any combination of asterisks replacing letters, blacklist will not catch it, and people who actually have "suicide" blacklisted might see the post since it won't be blocked. if you want to make sure that people who have a word blacklisted won't see a post like this, don't replace letters with asterisks, just type the whole word and blacklist will catch it!

ok PSA over, now onto, THE REAPERS MY LOVES-

He’s… a little sad for you, that you lived so much of your life thinking you’d be alone forever. Even though he knows people are born alone and die alone, they shouldn’t live alone. He always knew he’d have someone, based on his own tattoo, but you must have been so worried. As soon as the two of you meet, he apologizes for what he’s done to himself, because it led to you suffering and wondering and feeling like something wasn’t right. However, now the two of you have found each other; even if his afterlife ends up being cut short by his illness, he intends to spend the rest of it getting to know you. And… hopefully you’re happy getting to know him.

As much as he regrets what led you to him, he’s grateful he found you. At some points, he would stare at his own tattoo and will it to turn grey, simply so he could know you would stop being tortured by the thought that he was dead. (And stop eating at him with guilt, knowing that he’d doomed you before you were even aware of him.) You didn’t let the so-called impossibility stop you, and… he found you, at last. It’s… okay, that it’s him you ended up with? You’re not disappointed? Well. At least now the two of you can be together without any cares. Now that he has you, he promises, he’ll do anything for you.

Goodness, it’s about time you showed up! They’ve been waiting for you, you know? Of course… they know they haven’t done themself any favors. Unfortunately. By killing themself before they could meet their soulmate, they’ve effectively made you think you’re never going to find them. They’ve been watching their own tattoo daily, excited by your feelings of passion when it turns red and wanting to rip apart whatever made you sad when it turns blue. And here you are, at long last! They’re ever so delighted that you didn’t give up looking for them. You held out hope for them, and now they get to be with you. It’s like a fairytale, and now they get to live with you, happily~ ever~ after~

That’s just his luck, isn’t it… that he’s fated to have died before his intended ever existed. He’s angry at himself that he took his life away, but he can’t help thinking — would he have had someone else if he didn’t? If he stayed alive, would he simply have no soulmate at all, because there would be no way to be with you if he hadn’t died? It makes his head spin and he loves it, some unknowable questions to ponder over. He’s overjoyed that he finally gets to have you, though, so as long as the two of you are together, he doesn’t fret over what might have happened. As long as he isn’t a letdown to you, he’s glad that things eventually ended up where they did. You’re the best puzzle of his life, and even if he never figures you out… he loves the adventure of trying.

God, he was starting to think he’d never get to be with you. And here come to find, you thought you were fated to be alone from the start? He’s gone through so many people trying to see who it was who was his. Countless one-night stands, endless breakups when it became clear he wasn’t compatible… there’s never any way to know for sure. He’s been lonely, searching for you. There’s a little guilt that you had to live for so long feeling lonely too… though, now that you’re together, he’s prepared to thoroughly enjoy being with you. He’ll show you the best of this life that he has to offer, if you’ll let him!

Damn, did you really wait all this time for him? Instead of just going off and trying to find someone else? He held out for you because he knew you were alive, but if he thought his soulmate was dead… he would probably give up on the idea entirely. A person only gets one, right? He’s disappointed in himself that he made you wait, that you almost certainly felt isolated and pitied and a million other things. It’s bullshit, and he’s the one who put you through it by killing himself. Then again, it may not have worked out this way if he hadn’t, so… it’s complicated. If nothing else, he’s thankful he’s met you at last; he thoroughly teases that now he has even more of a reason to want to be done with work.

You must have known they would find you soon enough! You never gave up hope, ja? Here they are with you now! It’s not something that they really like thinking about in general; the fact that they took their own life. It’s worse that doing so led to you thinking you were destined to be alone forever, so it’s something they have to confront particularly after first meeting you. They’re… sad that what they did led to you suffering. They never wanted to hurt anyone but themself. Even then, it’s… ugh. It’s a lot. They’re just so happy that you’ve found them now, that finally they have their beloved! You must have been so lonely, so they plan to make up for lost time. They also take all the photographs of you, wanting to have as many as they can. They’re so excited to start building a life with someone!

This is… it’s real, at last? After waiting for so long, the two of you have finally found each other? He was starting to think it would never happen, that even though his own tattoo proves otherwise, he was doomed to be alone. So many people he’s seen die, so many he’s lost, and none of them have been the one. The very first one he lost drove him to kill himself out of grief, and… it’s infuriating, that this was the thing that would lead him to meet you. He’s waited so long for you, and you’ve been in so much pain just like him, because you thought for most of your life that he was dead and would stay dead. But… he’s here now, love. He’s here. You’ll never be alone or doubt his love again.

It’s not any great surprise, is it, that what he did begets ever more punishment? It’s just a tragedy to him, that his actions led to you being punished. You’re the one who’s been hurt and has thought that the person you were meant to be with was someone you’d never meet. He’s not happy with himself, that you’ve been through so much and it’s his fault. All he can do now that he’s together with you is try to make sure the rest of your life is better than what came before. Even though he works a lot, surrounded by reminders of death, he’s with you as much as he possibly can be. Any time that isn’t taken by his job is yours. While he may not be overly emotional… there’s no denying that he loves you, that he’s glad to have you, and that he’ll do anything to make sure you know it.

#suicide tw #Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Alan #Eric #Grell #Othello #Ronald #Rudger #Sascha #Undertaker #William #reaction #romantic #soulmate AU #drama #hurt/comfort #MY HEAAAAAART!!#one hell of a queue

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augustjustice · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you so much for tagging me @penny00dreadful!! 💛🖤

The Rules:

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We're posting progress here. If you haven't made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you've posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That's it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

The WIPS:

Steve sitting vigil at Eddie’s bedside

Steve and Class Clown Eddie

Lifeguard Steve

Steddie Bodyswap

Steve the Vampire Slayer AU

The Snippet:

The soothing, familiar voice lilts on, unspooling one of Eddie’s favorite stories with all the warmth of covering him in a fluffy blanket.

“Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill?”

In real time, Eddie blinks his eyes open, the white ceiling overhead spinning slightly before his vision clears. Tilting his head in the direction of the sound, Eddie finds Steve Harrington sitting in an uncomfortable looking hospital chair, the battle outfit Eddie last saw him in replaced by a long-sleeve blue Henley and light wash jeans, a worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring cracked open on his knee.

Fortunately, the memories of the past few days aren’t far from the edges of Eddie’s mind, or he might think he really was dreaming.

“Harrington?” Eddie manages to call groggily, Steve’s name cracking in the middle, and, Christ, his throat feels like someone fucked it raw with a sandpaper condom.

Beside him, Steve freezes, jerking his head up to blink at Eddie with wide, startled hazel eyes. Then he’s tossing the book aside as he launches himself out of the chair.

Eddie barely has time to register the movement before Steve is throwing an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a fierce hug.

“Eddie!” Steve is so close, face pressed into Eddie’s hair, that Eddie can feel it when his warm breath tickles his neck, like he’s letting out an exhale that he’s been holding it in for days. “You’re awake! And about time, too, dude. We thought–we thought we lost you.”

Maybe Eddie actually did die, because this kind of overly-affectionate reception from Steve totally seems like something that would be conjured up in his own private fantasy land.

I’m no pressure tagging @bri-notthecheese @highkingpenny @harmonictechnicality @pizzaqueen @princessstevemunson and anyone else who sees this and wants to!

#wip wednesday #tag games #stranger things #steddie #my writing #my things

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jujutsubaby · 5 months

Text

chemical reactions (part 2)

☆ pairing: zeke jaeger x pieck finger ☆ summary: when pieck traveled to faraway trost for a prestigious research position, she expected to feel lonely. what she last expected was to find a bit of home in her supervisor. ☆ warnings: chronic illness mentioned ☆ tags: modern AU, academia AU, slow-burn, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers ☆ a/n: zeke and pieck meet properly this chapter aaaa ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ i had a lot of fun writing their dialogue (esp one part in particular hehe) and can't wait to build this relationship out more >:) masterlist

Once she got over the initial surprise of Dr. Jaeger's youth, Pieck was pleased that she was able to get back on her feet and into her professional mode reasonably well. Trying not to feel flustered at how attentively he was watching her, Pieck began her prepared opening.

"Well, Dr. Jaeger, thank you for meeting with me," she said, doing her best not to speak too quickly. "I find your research genuinely interesting, so it truly is an honor to be considered." Pieck internally winced; she had been counseled time and time again by Magath to be less obsequious. You know at least twice as much as those morons you're always cowering before, he would say to her with all his trademark bluntness. You deserve to be where you are, and you deserve just as much as respect anybody else. But old habits died hard, and Pieck was just too used to bowing low before authority figures.

Luckily, Dr. Jaeger did not seem to change his demeanor. "I am pleased to hear that my work intrigues you so, Miss Finger, and I can see why you reached out to me," he replied with a polite smile. Something about the crows feet that appeared at the corners of his eyes put Pieck a bit more at ease.

"I saw from your CV that your research interests lie in nonaddictive drug therapies for chronic illness," he continued. "Your experience is certainly pertinent to the work we do at TITANLab. Theo had nothing but praise for you, I should add."

Pieck did not have time to shroud the confusion from her face. Theo? Then it hit her.

"Oh, do you know Professor Magath?"

Zeke gave her a sidelong glance, for some reason.

"Well, perhaps it was a bit before your time. He did work briefly as the chemistry teacher at the local school before becoming a professor full time. He and I first became acquainted there, in fact, but have encountered each other professionally since."

Pieck was embarrassed at how slowly the cogs in her mind were turning that morning, but she truly had no idea what Dr. Jaeger was talking about.

"Professor Magath lived in Trost? I don't remember that, I thought he was in Liberio all along."

Dr. Jaeger now looked lost as well; Pieck's panic rose. Oh God, does he think I'm an idiot? What's going on?

"Trost? When was Theo in Trost?"

"Well, you had said that Professor Magath had taught you in secondary school, so I just assumed...I thought you were from Trost, I apologize for making that assumption. And I am sorry for the confusion, Dr. Jaeger," Pieck stammered out. Usually in situations like these, she found that if she apologized enough, misunderstandings were easier to smooth over. This certainly was one of the more opaque misunderstandings she had encountered, though.

Dr. Jaeger just looked at her for a long time. The longer he looked, the more Pieck felt any semblance of hope leach out of her. All at once, the confusion dissipated from his face. It was replaced, mystifyingly, with a bashful smile.

"Pieck, do you perhaps...not remember me?"

At the familiarity of her first name in his voice, Pieck felt the color rise embarrassingly in her cheeks. He addressed her as though they were well acquainted already. When he called her Pieck, they almost sounded like equals, rather than a student researcher out of her depth and a prodigy of a professor.

Pieck imagined how amusing it might be if she also dropped formality and addressed him as Zeke. Zeke. Why does that name feel familiar?

Pieck clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Oh my goodness! Yes, I'm so sorry! Zeke! It's been so long, I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you with your — " she gestured weakly at her chin, unable to even complete the sentence.

This was certainly one interview scenario she had not prepared for.

When she focused on Dr. Jaeger's — Zeke's — face, when she erased his beard and glasses, when she mussed his hair up a bit (purely in her imagination, of course), she saw him. The tall, pale, sullen boy who had been in some of her classes in spite of being four to five years her senior, as she recalled. The talk in her class was that he had to retake a few courses due to his poor performance; the secondary school in Liberio had been small enough that remedial classes for older students meant sitting in with younger students. Socially, it was a potential pressure cooker, but Pieck recalled that he had gotten on reasonably well with his younger classmates. He had even broken up fights with her more tempestuous peers, now that she thought about it. And he had always been polite to her.

Pieck was overwhelmed with surprise. She had never expected that quiet boy, who seemed so apathetic about school, to become an illustrious and well-known professor like this. Then again, she had never expected herself to rise even to the level she had. They all had their own paths to tread; some were just more circuitous than others.

"Yes," Zeke replied with a small smile, "I suppose I would look somewhat different now, what with my," and he mimed pointing at his beard the same way she had. Is he...making fun of me?

It was more than the beard that had rendered him unrecognizable; Pieck was certain he understood this too. It was strange seeing him so confident, when she remembered him being anything but. Most of his classmates treated Pieck and the other younger students with gleeful disdain, glad to have children below them in the pecking order as only teenagers could be. Zeke had been so different; he had been kind to them, but with a thirst to be accepted. Even Pieck's younger self could detect this; she recalled wondering why he cared so deeply about the opinions of her snotnosed and annoying little peers. More than anything, he had seemed so desperately lonely.

If there was one thing Pieck understood, it was loneliness.

Once she realized he was her old classmate, Pieck was blessed with the ability to interact with Zeke (Dr. Jaeger, she corrected herself) with much more ease and comfort. She suspected that the breakdown of the barrier benefited him as well, as he spoke to her much less stiffly (albeit still formally, as he always had even as a child).

At the end of the interview, Pieck dared to hope that it had gone well. Zeke's research specialty and pet project had to do with using existing hormones to inform medication courses. What was especially unique was his interest in the hormonal secretions found much more frequently in Eldians. Pieck understood now why he had come to Paradis to do his research; such a project would have an uphill battle securing funding in Marley. Even the academic medical texts in Marley frequently omitted Eldians altogether. Pieck, having combed through medical books and journals with her limited expertise for any possible source of succor for her father, was intimately aware of the unfortunate consequences of this omission.

The idea of someone, anyone, conducting research on how to help Eldians find proper treatments and medications brought a bone-deep sense of relief to Pieck.

Between their shared interests and shared past, Pieck felt remarkably at ease with Zeke now. Enough so that she chanced asking,

"What do you think? Do you think I'd be able to work with you? I understand you must be busy, and that you must have so many applicants, but —"

Zeke must have felt equally at ease, for he actually laughed. (Pieck had never heard him laugh before; she was unsure if he ever had even smiled during their short acquaintance in school, let alone laughed).

"Oh, I hope you were not anxious about that! I was already intending to bring you on after seeing your resume and Theo's recommendation. I apologize if I was unclear, this was more of an informal interview for me to know more about you. Finding out more about your research interests just confirmed for me that this is the right decision."

He then rose from his chair, heading to the door to open it for her. Pieck felt her tense shoulders sag; she was giddy with relief and excitement, and attempted in vain to steady her voice.

"Thank you so much Dr. Jaeger, I truly appreciate this!"

Zeke turned back over his shoulder at her with a conspiratorial grin that made her cheeks and ears grow hot.

"Anything for an old school chum," he replied. "And do call me Zeke, please. Hearing you say Dr. Jaeger makes me feel even older."

Pieck's combination of adrenaline and sleep deprivation made her unable to fully trust what she saw, but she could have sworn that Zeke winked at her after saying that.

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wooahaes · 1 year

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dino soulmate au !! i don't have a specific trope in mind, but im curious to see which one you think fits him best :D

hii <3 hmm... technically dino was where i left off on my soulmate series (which is currently paused until i finish either sweet night (more likely) or under the sun (unlikely lol), then i'll try to finish out those fics before i start a new series), so i'll avoid what i've got planned for him there

(death tw, will tag the post w this as well)

ill play around w a lil bit of angst. reader has lost the soulmate that they were dating ever since they met in high school bc (insert cause of death here). not even minutes after he's dead, the name lee chan writes itself across the back of their hand. out of resentment for the universe immediately pairing you up right after you lose the love of your life, you resolve to keep the stupid name covered as much as you can and never meet this lee chan the universe is replacing your soulmate with.

elsewhere, chan realizes that there's a name written up his forearm that he didn't have before. a certain percentage of ppl are born w/o soulmates, and chan always thought he was one of them until now. he probably excitedly shows it off to his friends (only abt half of which have soulmates imo bc i like having a mixed bag there), and they promise to let him know if they happen to run into someone w his own name on them.

enter jeonghan, currently going through practicum to become a licensed therapist. enter, you on a summer day without a bandage on the back of your hand and his friend's name contrasting your skin in neat lettering. also enter the fact that jeonghan can't say/do anything about giving out your information because of violations, so he's stuck trying to figure out how he can lead you or chan to one another.

ultimately, he figures out a way: you mumble one day a week or two later that your favorite coffee shop is closed for renovations because you'd always treat yourself with something sweet from there, jeonghan asks if he can make a suggestion, and he pushes you toward one of chan's favorite places before immediately getting both seungkwan and vernon on the task of getting chan there. you end up sitting in the corner to kinda just people watch and chill post-therapy session and wait on your drink. your name gets called out, and you notice the way another guy's head snaps up immediately. you retreat to your corner with your drink, only to hear the name lee chan read out soon enough and you aren't taking any chances. you get up to leave, and immediately the guy tails you out and asks for you to stop before rolling his jacket sleeve back to reveal where your name is boldly written along his arm.

you tell him you aren't interested. he's immediately heartbroken by that kind of talk, but asks for your number anyway because he'd at least like to be your friend if nothing else. you give it to him after making it clear you aren't looking for a new lover, and then leave.

and idk insert more stuff abt you and chan getting closer until you finally open up and mention tht ur in grief counseling bc of ur soulmate dying and that you'd always hated chan (as a concept--you like him now as a person) because it wasn't even five minutes before his name appeared on you. he apologizes, you tell him not to bc its not his fault, and the two of you agree to take ur friendship slow.

insert chan feeling guilty as he falls for you. insert u feeling guiltier because you fell harder after that and you try to push him away again. fic culminates in you admitting to him or to a friend that you're terrified of losing another soulmate. maybe its w a family member of deceased soulmate who reassures you that he would want you to be happy before asking if it had been you, wouldn't you want him to move on one day? it ends w you crying on them and apologizing because you feel like ur betraying ur first soulmate, but accepting that its okay to move on.

its just a lot of talk abt grief and whatnot lol with a side of chan helping you heal because he wants to be there for you, romantic feelings or not. you confess to him that you've fallen for him and ask to take things slow now and the fic ends off with the two of you going to get coffee together or something

#wooahaes.ask #wooahaes.askgame #sweetteawithpeach #death tw #sorry this one is longer lol im admittedly a sucker for a soulmate au

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noxxha · 7 months

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Find the Word!

I was tagged by @tales-from-nocturnaliss, and her post can be found here!

Rules: scour your writings and Find the Word!

Ohh this was a fun one! I’m quite shocked to find that I have not written a story/novel/scene/sentence with the word “mourning” though ._.

Words I was given: Beloved, Silence, Mourning, Star

Words I give to the one who wants to join in: thoughtful, brother, helpless, sorrow, love

🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱

/silence / - Why the Sun sets Red (Isa and Lea, Kingdom Hearts fanfic)

”I never thought I would get to see this view again, not with you especially.” Straight to the source of my anxiety I go, and there is a contemplating silence that stretches out as far as the crimson in the sky. I watch your gaze return to my face, a fond - wistful even - smile.

“You know I would have done anything to save you, Isa - none could, nor can ever replace who you are to me, and what you mean to my heart.”

I take a bite - the salt and sweet taste a comforting taste onto my tongue - all to garner time, to hide behind something familiar as I find tears skim across my jaws.

/beloved / Courage (Marluxia x Larxene fanfiction, AU)

I exhaled, my breathing threatened to spiral into hysterics.

“What kind of lover waits for over three years to meet the parents of her beloved?”

“What kind of lover arranges a meeting with said lovers’ parents on Christmas Eve, with a house brimming with people, while aware that his beloved struggles with anxiety when it involves other people?” We stare at one another, and you dissolve the silence with a sigh.

“You break free from your shackles little by little - each day a little more - and you should be ever so proud of that achievement- you’re changing your life, it may be slow as a tortoise, but the change is there and it’s a joy to witness it.”

“What have I done to deserve you?”

“You loved me when I couldn’t.” A tender kiss that weakened my knees. “And you allowed me - a soul just as wounded and fucked up - to love you; I cannot think of a more deserving reason to love than this.” A whisper near my ear. “Because is that not what love is after all? An unconditional acceptance of our personal hell?”

/star / 3 AM Conversation (Marluxia and Larxene fanfic, AU)

“Oh Romeo, where are thy?” I rolled my eyes to the heavens, before shaking my head slightly at your attempt at humour. “And here I thought I could stargaze without any interruptions.” You inclined your head, mustered me with clear mirth against your lips and no ill-meaning behind your words. I released merely another cloud of vapour, before giving you a slight - if just as playful as your words before - bow.

“Hello Larxene.”

“Hello to you too, Marluxia.” Laughter in your voice - something I thought always fit you well, ever since the moment we became acquainted. Eventually I looked once more to the sky when aware how your gaze drifted skyward - I made even a half-hearted attempt to search for any constellation, I could remember the name of, amongst the millions of stars above.

“Are you looking for a particular one?” There followed silence at that, and I waited - enchanted by how beautiful this particular night was - so that your subdued answer came to startle me.

“Nope, I’ve never been much for constellations and astronomy.” I looked towards you, and while many details got lost at the distance between us, I thought you looked troubled, forlorn in a sense - even your voice carried a tone of vulnerability as you spoke your next words. “I’ve always been someone who prefers watching storms.”

#tag game #writing #fanfics #marlar kingdom hearts #marlar #isa and lea kingdom hearts

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carewyncromwell · 2 years

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tagging @drinkyoursoupbitch because 1, references to her girl Gwendolyn “Wendy” Gordon-Copper and her other half Ben Copper, and 2, yay, the LOTR AU liiiiives!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn Cromwell-Took had encountered quite a few elves in her travels across Middle-Earth searching for news of her brother Jacob. The vast majority of those elves, however, were of Sindar descent -- her friend Chiara, for instance, was a Sindar healer with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of healing herbs and plants who served no one else than the Lady Galadriel herself. Rivendell, however, was largely made up of Noldor elves, and the feel of their town couldn’t be more different than the forest of Mirkwood. Whereas Lothlorian was an ethereal realm of chambers and halls that wound up trees toward the heavens themselves, Rivendell was a stately, regal fortress built up beside a waterfall -- beautiful, ornate, and established.

Her mother had said there were great libraries in the cities of Noldor elves, Carewyn recalled. She could well believe it, seeing the town of Rivendell -- the elves she’d encountered here all came across as very well-studied, if not a bit pretentious. Most of them had not given her a second glance at first unless she’d been in the company of Gandalf or Lord Elrond. Not that Carewyn minded the lack of attention -- it was really more the condescension that had rubbed her the wrong way.

“I may not know as much about healing as you, Lord Elrond,” she’d said rather forcefully at one point, while helping tend to Cedric’s cursed wound at the elfin lord’s house, “but I’m hardly a country bumpkin, Shire-born and raised I may be! Even those Hobbits less traveled than I know of Elbereth, the Queen of Valar, and I’m confident in saying that you likewise recall how much the Morgul-King has always loathed her? Therefore singing of her can only do Cedric good, in helping him battle the injury that Nazgul inflicted on him. Not to mention it might help him sleep, which can help all matter of ills!”

For his part, Elrond was taken aback by the little hobbit lady’s stubbornness. He said as much to Gandalf, when the wizard had come to pay the resting Cedric Diggory-Baggins a visit.

“She is willful and proud as a dwarf,” he said in something almost like a huff. “Not something I’m used to seeing among halflings.”

Gandalf chuckled around his pipe. “You have not known Hobbits as I have, old friend. Carewyn Cromwell-Took may be unusual in some ways, but her stubbornness is not uncommon, among them. She just directs it differently -- more toward doing good for others than just how best to arrange one’s herb garden.”

Elrond considered this. “...Yes...I will grant that the she-hobbit is courageous, to have ridden here with the littlest one while being chased by the likes of the Nazgul. And from what you’ve said of her, she’s also well-traveled -- an unusual trait, among her race. If you’re truly so reticent to have him take the Ring to Mordor, Gandalf, perhaps the she-hobbit would be a suitable replacement, for the role of Ringbearer -- ”

“No,” said Gandalf.

The face and voice had immediately turned incredibly severe as he lowered his pipe.

“...The One Ring takes advantage of our worst temptations and inner demons, and it has a stronger hold on those who themselves are strong. Carewyn Cromwell-Took is the last Hobbit I would ever entrust such a burden to.”

“You think she would fall to its temptations?” asked Elrond, raising his eyebrow. “Become corrupted, as the wretch Smeagol was?”

"...No,” Gandalf murmured after a moment, his expression growing sadder still. “Carewyn always strives to do good -- to save and protect those she chooses to care for, and to cause as little harm as she can. To take on other people’s burdens -- even ones far too heavy for the likes of a Hobbit -- soldiering through without complaint, expecting nothing short of perfection from herself at all times. Why else would she have taken on the quest to find her brother no matter where it would take her, while being small and fragile even by the standards of her race? Why else would she have braved orcs, goblins, the Lonely Mountain, with only the slightest hope she might find him alive? ...No...I think she would rather destroy herself than become corrupted by such evil.”

Elrond looked almost approving. “Such conviction is necessary, for such a mission.”

But Gandalf bristled.

“You fail to understand me, Lord Elrond!” he said sharply. “Carewyn would be torn and twisted up inside by the Ring, just as others have been -- wanting to do good, to save her brother and friends as well as the rest of Middle Earth, and yet pulled and pulled closer toward evil! She would push others away, with the thought to distance them from the Ring’s power and protect them from it! She would push herself beyond reason, expecting to do more than beings three times her size! She would berate and resent herself for being tempted at all, thinking that she should somehow be better than everyone else on this mortal plain and perfectly resist its toxic influence! She would neglect herself, her own well-being and health, just trying to complete the mission she took on -- hate herself more and more by the day because she cannot reach Mordor alone...and all the while, the Ring would be whispering in her ear, robbing her of her strength and resolve...blackening out all hope, encouraging the despair...that her brother is long-dead and gone and that everyone she loves will also soon be, if they’re not already. It will ensure that the likes of Saruman and the Nazgul have more of a chance to catch up with her and Carewyn spirals downward, loathing herself for being unable to do the impossible -- blaming herself for every crime Sauron and his forces have committed against her loved ones as if they were hers...”

The wizard’s eyes darkened with sorrow.

“...Carewyn...would never make it to Mordor,” he said very softly. “She would self-destruct from the inside before she ever made it. She’d be killed, by another’s hand or her own, and it wouldn’t even matter...because she would willingly embrace the cold and silent comfort of death.”

Elrond’s lips came together tightly, clearly displeased. “Gandalf, the Ring will try to corrupt anyone close to it. It is safer in those Hobbits’ hands than it is in either of ours. And we must move quickly, to ensure it doesn’t reunite with Sauron...”

A flash of black caught Elrond’s eye. Down below the balcony he and Gandalf stood, he could see a familiar shape with dark hair and a beard dressed in a black velvet tunic carrying a basket of white-flowered plants. His eyes grew a little smaller.

Gandalf looked down as well.

“Returned from the Wilds again, I see.”

Elrond gave a light sniff. “He has gone back and forth these last two days in search of more Athelas, to soothe the littlest hobbit’s injury.”

“The mark of a truly noble heart,” said Gandalf with a small smile. “The heart of a King, one could say.”

Elrond’s narrowed eyes rested upon the Ranger called Amari as he gave the basket of herbs to one of Elrond’s servants with a respectful bow of his head.

“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s as I’ve said -- he’s turned away from that path. He has never wanted that role. Even when he was a very young Man, before he learned the truth of his lineage...he never wanted it.”

“And yet I fear Fate may call him to it, all the same,” Gandalf said gravely. “Would it be so hard, to place our trust in a Man such as him?”

Elrond glanced at Gandalf out the side of his eye. He didn’t speak, but it was clear just how difficult of a question it was to answer.

“He is not like other Men,” Elrond said at last, very darkly. “And yet, regrettably, he also is. And it’s for both of those reasons that I worry.”

~*~

Within another day, Cedric had fully recovered. Gandalf and his Hobbit friends Carewyn and Bill and Charlie Weasley were all incredibly relieved. So were Carewyn’s riding companions, Ben and Wendy Copper of Rohan, when she delivered the news to them -- though they were also a bit perplexed when she asked them more about where to find a certain white-flowering plant.

“Kingsfoil, you mean?” said Wendy.

“Do you know it?” asked Carewyn.

“It grows in the outskirts of Gondor. Leaves a nice scent when burned.” The shieldmaiden gave Carewyn a curious look. “Thinking of collecting some incense for Lord Elrond? Lissuin would probably be better received...Yavannamíre leaves have a nice scent too...”

Carewyn shook her head. “Amari brought several baskets of this to Lord Elrond’s house, to help heal Cedric’s wounds.”

Wendy blinked. “Really?”

“I didn’t know Kingsfoil could be used for healing,” said Ben, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s just a common weed, where we’re from.”

Carewyn shook her head. “I saw the elves use it myself -- it helped seal up Cedric’s wound like invisible thread. ...I don’t know if Cedric would’ve survived, without it.”

The sadness that rippled over her eyes quickly hardened into resolve.

“I thought it’d be good to have some more on hand, for the journey ahead.”

Carewyn bustled off to go locate her pony. With a quick glance at Wendy that was returned by a supportive nod, Ben strode over to catch up with her. His long strides compared to Carewyn’s tiny ones made it incredibly easy to do.

“I’ll go with you,” he said quickly.

~*~

Ben and Carewyn were gone most of the day. As the afternoon wore on, a delegation of dwarves arrived, as well as another delegation from the human kingdom of Gondor. They had come for a meeting arranged by Lord Elrond, set to make a decision about the fate of the One Ring and the growing darkness in Mordor and Saruman’s fortress in Isengard.

Wendy knew logically it’d be good to rest and get her strength up before she and Ben inevitably rode off again, but at the same time, Rivendell was a truly beautiful place. Its library was immense and its courtyards ancient and grand. It was stunning to walk through.

At one point while looking for a good place to read, Wendy happened upon a chamber marked with a beautiful mural, upon which was drawn a man garbed in silver and gold armor, raising a broken sword toward a monstrous soldier garbed all in black armor.

Sauron, Wendy knew at once. The jagged, inhuman helmet was distinctive -- all art depicting Sauron featured it.

Wendy looked from Sauron to the man holding the broken sword. His face was bearded and proud...and yet there was something almost familiar, in that face...something in the jawline or the downward slant of the eyelids...

“That is Isildur.”

Wendy turned around.

The ranger called Amari was sitting on a stone bench a short way away. He was also carrying a book, this one open in his hand -- he himself had clearly chosen this place to sit and read too.

Wendy raised her eyebrows with interest. “The King of Gondor who faced off against Sauron?”

She looked back at the mural. Looking at him, yes -- there was something very kingly, in his determined, bearded face.

His very familiar bearded face...

Wendy turned to look at the Ranger reclined on the bench behind her again. There was something grim in his expression as he likewise turned his gaze onto the mural. His black eyes glinted with something dark -- almost uncomfortable...

It was as Wendy considered Amari that a glint of silver caught her eye. Beside the bench Amari was sitting on was a large stone statue, which held up a pedestal surrounded by several pillars. As Wendy walked closer, she found a sword on the pedestal -- a sword, in pieces.

The dark-haired shieldmaiden of Rohan inhaled in amazement.

“This was Isildur’s sword,” she breathed.

“Now mere shards.”

Wendy turned to Amari. His gaze remained on the mural beside her.

“Fragments of a weapon and a time long since gone,” said Amari softly. “Just as with Isildur and his kingdom...all that remains now, after the devastation of Sauron...are mere pieces.”

Wendy considered Amari and then the sword carefully.

“...Swords can always be fixed,” she said at last.

“But should they be?” asked Amari.

“Of course,” said Wendy. “Look -- the blade’s still sharp, even in pieces. It’s more than strong enough for battle.”

“Can a tool only used for battle be used for anything else? Can a blade created with the sole purpose of cutting short lives and inflicting pain ever have a soul or purpose beyond that? Can a man born to fight...ever truly know peace?”

Wendy frowned deeply as the Ranger closed his book at last.

“Weapons can indeed be useful in battle,” granted Amari, “but most battle far too liberally. It signals how dark our times are, that such weapons have become so necessary. It seems like good food and drink and thoughtful conversation would be much better methods of restoring balance...if only the conflicts we had to face were solely among the free peoples of Middle Earth...”

Wendy couldn’t help but smile. “Talking like that, you almost remind me of Carey.”

Amari blinked. “Carewyn?”

“Yeah. She’s never much liked fighting, however much she doesn’t act afraid, when she ends up in the middle of it. She hates the thought of anyone being in pain...I’ve always known her to prefer to fight with words, rather than the sword.”

Amari’s gaze softened ever-so-slightly.

“Carewyn Cromwell-Took is very much a caretaker,” he agreed. “Lord Elrond said that she never left Cedric’s bedside, for the whole of his recovery.”

“She did the same thing for Ben, when he fell ill,” said Wendy with a big grin. “You never would’ve known she was only a third of his height, with how forcefully Carey wrangled him -- at one point, she even had to sit on top of his chest, just to keep him from getting out of bed!”

Amari laughed. It was a very soft, understated sort of chuckle, but there was some genuine mirth there.

“Carewyn Cromwell-Took has an inner fire on pier with a dragon’s,” he said, his voice almost fond. “I think even Lord Elrond is impressed by it, however unusual he finds it.”

Something more solemn then passed over his face.

“...It’s part of the reason Lord Elrond wants Carewyn present for the Council meeting tomorrow.”

Wendy blinked. “The one meant to discuss the fate of the Ring?”

Amari’s black eyes grew a little darker, more solemn as he nodded. “He believes Carewyn’s search for her brother, who likewise sought out the Ring’s location before his disappearance, would give her valuable insight. And truthfully, with how young Cedric is, Gandalf thought she might be a better representative, to speak out for the interests of Hobbits.”

Wendy nodded. “Carey’s always been very well-spoken. If the Council’s supposed to speak on behalf of their respective people, she’d be a good choice, to speak for the Shire. I don’t reckon there’d be much of anyone else who’d do it, at least, if Charlie’s to be believed...from what I gather, most Hobbits just want to be left well enough alone.”

Amari inclined his head in a muted nod, his eyes drifting up and away toward the mural on the far wall again.

“I can understand such a desire for self-sufficiency and independence,” he said lowly. “It’s just regrettable that in such times, if we choose to live alone, we will inevitably die alone, as well, once the War Against Sauron reaches us.”

In the moonlight cast through the nearby window, Amari’s profile was illuminated. It highlighted the grim resolve of his bearded face -- made his black eyes glint with an almost kingly shine...

Wendy’s blue eyes widened.

Isildur?

“Wendy! There you are!”

Wendy looked up. Ben was striding toward her.

At the sight of her husband, Wendy immediately moved to his side and greeted him with a kiss.

“Did you find the Kingsfoil?” she asked.

“It took a while, but yes,” said Ben with a faintly tired sigh. “Who would’ve thought such a common weed could be so hard to track down?”

“If you wish to find more, I could lead you to some fields of it.”

Ben looked up, startled -- he hadn’t noticed Amari reclining on the stone bench at first either.

“...It was Carewyn who’d wanted some,” he said, after he’d recovered. “She said you brought some, to help Cedric.”

“She said Cedric might’ve been lost, if it hadn’t been for you bringing them,” Wendy added, shooting a quick, pointed smile Amari’s way.

The Ranger bowed his head modestly. “It was the least I could do. Now then, I won’t keep you. Lord Elrond’s servants should have dinner ready shortly -- I’m certain Carewyn would be displeased, if you missed a meal.”

“If she’d be upset with us for not going to dinner, don’t you think she’d likewise be upset with you?” Wendy said airily, but she laughed all the same. Amari himself smiled broadly as well, showing white teeth.

“All the same,” said Ben, “we should eat and get to bed promptly, if we’re to be well-rested for the Council meeting tomorrow morning.”

Wendy sighed. “Yes, I suppose so...”

As she left, though, she added as an aside to Amari,

“Concerning that question you asked, though -- about whether a man born to fight can ever know peace...I think it really depends on what the man is fighting for. Some men fight for glory -- others, land or power. Still others fight for love. But if what the man fights for is peace -- the safety and happiness of others...well, who’s to say that they couldn’t reach it, if they tried?”

Wendy inclined her head slightly as she smiled wryly.

“Maybe then that broken sword could still have some use.”

Amari watched silently as the two Rohirrim left the chamber. He didn’t move at all for a long moment, instead merely contemplating the matter -- then he tucked the book under his arm and left the chamber in the opposite direction.

~*~

Once he’d returned the book to its source, the Ranger wandered through the courtyard outside the house of Elrond. He set about trimming the branches and vines that had grown wild in his absence, covering the small marble memorial that had been erected there. He had used nothing but his hands, until suddenly he found a pale hand cutting away at the branches with a small blade beside him.

Amari looked down. It was Carewyn. The blade she used was clearly meant to be a knife for an elf or a man, but in her hands, it was more like a sword.

“You’ll hurt your hands, pulling out branches like that,” Carewyn scolded him, even as her gaze stayed locked on the plant that she was trimming, rather than up at him.

Amari’s black eyes softened. “Thank you.”

Once the branches and vines were hacked away, it was easier to clean off the excess leaves and dirt, revealing the small, carved marble woman underneath. Amari brushed the residue from her face with his hand gently, so as to better make out her expression.

“She’s beautiful,” said Carewyn.

Amari considered her. The little she-Hobbit was looking over the statue and the flowers in her lap. She even at one point took out her handkerchief and wiped the grime out of the crevices of the statue’s hands -- a gesture that touched Amari’s heart and made his face soften that bit more.

“...She was of the Dunedain,” he said quietly. “A lady of the North -- the widow of a great Chieftain, who tragically lost her life to an orc’s arrow, while riding her only child to the safety of Rivendell’s gates.”

Carewyn looked up at Amari. “What was her name?”

“Gilraen, daughter of Dirhael. Even now, the Rangers of the North call her Gilraen the Fair.”

Looking thoughtful, the little she-Hobbit then abruptly turned and bustled back over to the stairs a few feet away. On the bottom step was a basket full of Athelas. She reached into her basket and plucked out some of the largest of the white flowers, before she returned to the memorial, where she arranged them in a neat little line at the feet of the statue.

“May it be the shadow's call will fly away... May it be you journey on to light the day... When the night is overcome, you may rise to find the sun...”

Carewyn’s voice was like a prayer on the night wind. It made Amari feel like his joints had all faded to shadows of themselves -- like he and his heart were both suddenly pounds lighter. He found his eyes sliding closed absently despite himself, just hearing it.

“Mornie utulie...believe and you will find your way... Mornie alantie...a promise lives within you now...”

It was almost tragic when she fell silent again, closing her eyes and inclining her head and shoulders respectfully to the statue of Gilraen.

When Amari opened his eyes to look down at her, he found himself feeling fuller and warmer than he had before.

“That was beautiful,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” Carewyn said politely.

Amari’s eyes twinkled with fondness. “No...I believe it is I who should thank you, Carewyn. Gilraen has never known such a tribute, nor I would think has most anyone.”

Carewyn glanced away with a frown. “...Hm, well, I would think real flowers would be more suitable. Most Hobbits would have given lilies, in such circumstances...”

“Most Hobbits wouldn’t have thought to pay their respects to a human woman they had never met before, out of nothing but the goodness of their heart,” Amari cut her off cleanly. His black eyes glinted like warm stars. “I think even Lord Elrond himself would consider himself honored, to be the subject of such sincere kindness.”

Carewyn blushed a bit, but nonetheless looked up at the Ranger with a small smile. “...Well, she’s your kin, isn’t she? For inspiring you...she deserves proper respect.”

Amari’s expression flickered, betraying genuine surprise. Then it bloomed into a fuller, more handsome smile. Even his eyes, crinkled up to make room for his smile, seemed overflooded with warmth.

“...Thank you, Carewyn,” he said softly.

He looked up at Gilraen’s statue thoughtfully.

“I never knew her,” he admitted, “at least, not that I can recall. But Lord Elrond has told me of her, and I have heard tales from her people.”

“Were you very young, when she brought you here?” Carewyn asked.

“I was only two years of age, when she entrusted me to Lord Elrond’s care.”

“I’m sorry.”

Carewyn’s eyes were overfull with empathy.

“I was the same age when my father left,” she admitted.

Amari looked at her, startled.

“Evan Took,” Carewyn explained. “Shire-born and raised. It was because of him that my mother settled in the Shire -- the Cromwells are more Stoor in origin, the Tooks are solidly Fallohides. My father didn’t fear the Cromwells at the start, hence why he married my mother at all -- but well, Hobbits prefer peace and stability...and the Cromwells disapproved of him so much that they were willing to make our lives a living hell, all to try to force us to return to their home in the Vales of Anduin. And although my mother and brother were more than willing to stand their ground and stand up to them...my father, ultimately, was not, Took he might be. So he left. It took until I was nearly 30 to finally deal with the Cromwells soundly enough that they never returned to the Shire.”

Carewyn smiled darkly.

“I thought it was them that had prevented Jacob’s return. in the beginning,” she explained. “But when I passed Mirkwood to look for him, they had not seen him either. It was then I first heard about Jacob seeking out the location of the One Ring.”

“How old were you when your brother disappeared?” asked Amari.

“I’d just come of age,” said Carewyn. After a moment, she realized this wouldn’t mean as much to a man, considering how differently they aged, so she added in explanation, “I was newly 33.”

Amari gave a little nod, clearly grateful for the addition. “...Then you are still quite young.”

Carewyn cocked her eyebrows.

“Well, you said that you started your journey to look for your brother after a year of receiving no word from him,” Amari explained. “So, I must presume, you went out to look for him at age 34. And since I doubt you’ve been traveling as long as I have, it’s likely you’re still in your 30′s now.”

“Is that a gentleman’s way to ask a lady’s age?” Carewyn asked amusedly.

“I thought it rude to ask directly,” said Amari.

Carewyn’s red lips curled up in a dry smile. “I will be 45 next fall.”

“Still a mere lass, then,” Amari said with a wry smile of his own.

Carewyn scoffed. “Hardly! However small in stature I am and lacking in years I may be, I am no child.”

Amari chuckled. “No, certainly not. Even if you are far younger than I...I have the feeling that your soul is older and wiser than your body would suggest.”

Carewyn raised her eyebrows curiously. “Younger than you? I thought that Men lived shorter lives than Hobbits.”

“Most do,” Amari granted. “My ancestors were not all Men -- there is some Elvish blood in my line, as well.”

Carewyn’s eyes lit up. “So that’s why your mother brought you to Rivendell! These elves are also your kin...Lord Elrond is your kin.”

Amari shook his head. “Yes -- but the blood I share with Lord Elrond is on my father’s side, and very distantly. My mother, however, being of the Dunedain, was descended from Numenor, who was blessed with long life by the Valar for his courage in battle. This ancestry is distant enough that I shall certainly not live to be 300, as Numenor did...but perhaps I could reach half that, someday.”

Carewyn tilted her head toward him curiously, her lips curled up in a wryer smile. “And how close are you to achieving that goal, if I may ask?”

Amari’s eyes twinkled. “I am newly 75, as of this month.”

Carewyn giggled behind her hand. “You are very spritely for a middle-aged man, sir!”

Amari laughed as well -- the soft, understated chuckling was warm in the back of his throat. Her lips spread into a very pretty, red-painted smile, Carewyn reached up a hand and took hold of the Ranger’s.

“Come now,” she said as she gave it a very light but pointed tug. “I know Men eat far less than Hobbits, but you’d best eat a hearty supper, before you retire to bed. Lord Elrond says you don’t favor meat, but I’m sure some of Mrs. Weasley’s apple-cinnamon porridge would give you some proper strength...maybe with some nuts mixed in, if I can lay my hands on any...”

Amari’s black eyes blinked at how firmly she led him by the hand. He wasn’t used to people holding his hand -- he found his fingers falling limp in her grip. As his eyes moved from her hand clasped around his to her face, however, his expression softened again, gaining more visible fondness.

“...You noticed I was not at dinner, then?” he asked, thinking of Wendy’s words from earlier.

Carewyn huffed. “You’re more than twice my size, Amari -- of course I noticed. And because you’re twice my size, I expect you will eat at least half as much as I ate at the dinner you missed.”

Amari chuckled more than ever, even though the volume never rose. His black eyes squinted down at her warmly over his blazing white smile.

It was remarkable how a lady of such small stature could command such respect and affection from others in so little time, with seemingly so little effort.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #lord of the rings #au #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #gwendolyn gordon #ben copper #my writing #aesthetic

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bukojuiice · 3 years

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— genshin boys and how you take care of them when they’re sick.

ೃ ft. childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, and xiao x gn! reader

ೃ tags: modern au, headcanons, and tooth-rotting fluff.

ೃ 200 to 300 words per character.

ೃ genshin masterlist ♡ mha masterlist ♡ aot masterlist

ೃ note: if you enjoyed this, please do reblog! and if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡

CHILDE:

Childe has a very strong immunity system. No lame flu could ever get him. Mayhaps it's the below 0-degree temperature in Snezhnaya that helped his body grow accustomed to certain climates and temperatures? Because according to him, he "takes colds and kicks ass." However, after having too much fun and getting too competitive with Scaramouche at the Dragonspine Ski Resort, he's struck down with a terrible fever. From Sneznaya's Greatest Love Machine to sick babie in (y/n)'s care. He's not necessarily the whiny type but Childe is very helpless. Whether it was intentional or not, he couldn’t help himself at all. He forgets about the cough drops he has to drink and you have to remind him about it, when he refuses to eat Goulash fresh from Dragonspine and demands for alphabet soup, or when you're doing work in the living room and he comes up to you wrapped in a burrito blanket, asking for cuddles because "hugs are the best medicine." to which, you would reply with a hard "no." because you couldn't risk the both of you getting sick. (Even though you were craving hugs from him too.) Due to your boyfriend's stubbornness, it took a week before he could fully recover. And when he did, you bet he rushes to you, screaming, "I'm cured!" peppering you with kisses on your cheek and enveloping you in hugs that you've longed so much from him.

DILUC:

Colds are Diluc's worst enemy. Whenever he got remotely sick when he was a kid, whether it be a runny nose or a small allergy, his immune system literally betrays him. So, when he gets sick, he literally gets sick. Since then, He vowed to maintain a healthy body. You've never even seen him get a headache! It's always been Diluc taking care of you whenever you’re down with a cold. You had always wished for a moment where the tables would turn and it would be you taking care of him for once. That would soon happen on a particularly normal day. Diluc approaches you and asks if you could check his temperature. You bring out a thermometer to check if he has a fever, and it read 38 degrees. Diluc suddenly panics. His face red as a tomato and feeling woozy and lightheaded, your boyfriend wraps his arm around you for support as you bring him to your bedroom. Then, he suddenly sneezes. An adorable sniffle you did not expect to hear from your boyfriend or from anyone as handsome as him at all. It was the cutest "achoo." you've ever heard. You giggle, reaching for his neatly folded pajamas in the closet and handing it to him. "Pretend you didn't hear that." He says coldly, trying to not act embarrassed. Since that night and until he became well, you barely left Diluc’s side. He's wrapped in a blanket, his usual well-dressed get up is replaced with a dark gray hoodie and joggers, your stuffed plushies are cuddled up beside Diluc to keep him company whilst he's bed-ridden, and you're bringing him healthy and delicious meals to help him get better soon. When he had finally recovered, Diluc thought that maybe getting sick wasn't all that bad. Especially if the the one most dearest to him could love and care for him so well while he’s at his weakest.

KAEYA:

Kaeya tries to hide his cold at first. He doesn't want to make you worry too much. After all, he's not the type to get so sick easily anyway. T'was the cursed downpour of rain on that particular Wednesday night after his evening classes to blame for all of this. When you're around him, he clears his throat every time he has the urge to cough, He tries to sneeze as quietly as possible so you wouldn't hear, and he takes his daily medicine for colds behind your back. It wasn't til you accidentally hear his loud coughs whilst he was on his phone when you realized that he had a cold for the past few days now. You were a bit sad at first because Kaeya shouldn't have hid this from you, and yet, you quickly understood when he told you why. Since then, you've been taking care of him. He would lie on your lap as you apply a fever patch on his forehead, massaging his temples, as he coos adoringly at your gestures of affection. In fact, he loved the special treatment that he was getting from you so much, that even if he was getting better, he still asked if you could rub his temples to ease the pain he's been feeling from his common colds. Although it is very clear that he's already free of his illness, you chose to play along with him. and so from then on, giving Kaeya a loving massage became a part of your daily routine, and he was loving every minute of it.

ZHONGLI:

As a herb and tea enthusiast, Zhongli is able to keep a healthy mind and body. Chamomile tea before the two of you go to bed and a scented humidifier wafting around your house to rid of the germs. However, after eating something he had ordered for the both of you on Postmates and not knowing there was seafood in it, his mild allergies suddenly strike him with a severe cold. Zhongli hates this feeling. He hates not being able to get up, water the plants, read his books, or stroll around the city with you. He had no physical energy to do anything. He kept your house as clean and as influenza-free as possible. Yet here was, on your shared bed, speaking in a nasally but cute voice, a glass of orange juice on the bedside table, and tuned in to the Discovery Channel because it was the closest he could get to the wonderful world around him whilst he was sick. "I miss hearing your soothing voice." You say jokingly, drying a hot towel so you can pat and place it on Zhongli's forehead. "I'm afraid I can't do anything right now, my love. I'm sorry. A-Actually... my body feels hot. I think I need to take a shower." Wearing a bathrobe or else he'd shiver and have his condition worsen, you help your boyfriend take a hot bath by washing his hair and help dry it right after. Zhongli wasn't the type of boyfriend to ask for these kinds of things, but it was such a sweet gesture. You gingerly wash his hair, spread shampoo around his auburn streaks and small upward curls, and massaging his head in the process. He hums in delight whilst you giggle at his utters of praise, leaving him once you're done with your deed. After a relaxing bath that had probably defeated the colds that was plaguing him, Zhongli is back on his feet the next day. Unfortunately, you were the next victim of this stupid flu and now, it was Zhongli's turn to take care of you and making sure you would get the love and treatment that you had given him.

XIAO:

Calling your boyfriend stubborn when he's sick is quite an understatement. As a very productive person, Xiao always sets a certain amount of things to do as his goal for the day. Going to the skate park, hanging out with you, playing sports, or playing video games were just many of the activities he would do in a span of a day. But, when he catches a cold after staying up too late (sleep is for the weak! According to the Vigilant Yaksha as the mad lad had stayed up till 7 AM) after getting too invested in playing Resident Evil Village, he comes down with a flu that same afternoon. And so, his usual routine of going to the skate park, hanging out with you, and playing video games were soon to be replaced with lounging in the bed, taking medicine, being reprimanded by (Y/N) for moving too much, and feeling like shit because he can't do anything at all. You will literally shoot daggers when you see your boyfriend dashing around because he's supposed to be in bed, getting all the rest he can get. You were very strict with him, simply because you had to. Xiao was very careless after all. You were cooking dinner that same night when Xiao comes up to you, resting his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering, "I can go to school with you tomorrow." "Xiao... no you won't. Go to back to bed. I'll bring you the Veggie Radish Soup there." You reply harshly, paying no attention to him at all. His tsundere tendencies were showing when you deliver the soup to him and he grumbles, "Y-you don't have to take care of me like this. It was my fault as to why I got sick in the first place. I can take care of myself, you know." You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing yet loving look. "I know that. But, I'm doing this because I love you. You're my freaking boyfriend for petesake! Why would I not care for you like this!?"

ೃ taglist: @mignonextte @inlovewithadeptusxiao @duhsies @qimiie @kozu-zumi @volleybloop

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novelist-becca · 3 years

Text

TOH Fanfic recs! Part 1

(All of these people are my inspiration I stg)

Found family

Make my heart your home series by @tiredandjaded

First fic: Luz accidentally calls Eda "mom" and they both have a crisis over it. Mostly Luz. Second fic: post-YBOS, Luz tells Eda and Lilith of what happened during the rescue mission, and both Luz and Eda give Lilith a shovel talk. Third fic: Luz and Eda are both taking care of each other in the first seven days after coming home. Includes fun sibling bonding!

(Patiently awaiting the next chapter of the third installment!)

Literally anything by @hereforthehurts

The way they write emotions and hurt/comfort is seriously amazing. Never fails to make me cry, especially when it comes to sickfics and fics of Eda and Luz. (I recommend supporting them on Ko-Fi!)

You Are My Sunshine by @liesminelli

One of the first Owl House fics I ever read, and it's SO good! Luz has a night terror and Eda walks in on her freaking out, and it goes from there. The emotions of both characters are very well-written, and the ending is so sweet! I also recommend checking out their other works too!

It's The Least I Could Do by @witchesbeforewizardss

There aren't enough fics of Luz and Lilith bonding, and this is one of the BEST ones. Lilith needs more healthy relationships, and in my opinion, building an aunt-niece relationship with Luz is a great place to start! (next to making amends with Eda) Basically, Luz is feeling homesick, and before dinner, she allows Lilith to help her feel better.

Luz's Not So Great Luck and

A Friendly Beastly Surprise by @animerunner

The first fic has a large abundance of angsty scenarios, mostly AUs, all of which are wonderful to read. My personal favorite is the one where Luz is an orphan and she has a chronic illness, and well, you'll have to read to find out! The second one is canon compliant, and it's about Eda turning into the Owl Beast and treating Luz like an owlet, and Luz is just like "guess this is my life now". It's so cute!

Rainy Day Makeovers by @fallenflowersfromgrace

To summarize, There's boiling rain, and Luz convinces Eda to spend time with her giving each other makeovers. It's very cute, and I love it!

Some Honesty Before Breakfast by @pizzaboat

Eda notices Luz is acting unusual, and gets her to open up. It's in-character, and wonderfully executed.

Thank you for being in my life by @peridot-garcia

Episodes of The Owl House from Eda's perspective, and as of now, also Luz and Lilith's perspective. It's got wonderful found family scenarios, and so far the plot is pretty great!

Lighting up the Dark by The_Quoter

This is a very recent one, and I love it! It's post-Young Blood Old Souls, and Eda comes to terms with how much Luz means to her, while also helping her come out of a nightmare.

The Light Behind Your Eyes by ABirdinFlight

Post-Young Blood. Eda gives Lilith a shovel-talk (harsh but well-deserved) and has a heart-to-heart talk with Luz in her room.

Moonlit Masquerade: Replacement by Rohad

Similar to make my heart your home, Luz accidentally calls Eda "mom" and both of them have a crisis over it. (As expected!)

Bad Days by @drabbles-of-writing

Part of their Four Years AU, Luz has an episode, and Eda takes her home to help her calm down. It's very bittersweet and heartfelt.

Gratuitous Embellishments of Chicken Noodle Soup by Rulerofthecosmosandsnails

Luz almost drowns at the Knee, but her Owl Mom is there to help her get better, including making her soup! (Yeah, my fic Snow Day was inspired by this)

A Line Crossed by Clevinger

AU in which Luz dies by the spikes at the bridge, in front of Eda, who thankfully resurrects her, and as expected, Luz is having a hard time handling it. There's another work inspired by it called Too Much, Too Late by TheHonestyBird.

A nightmare and a hug by moreteaplease

Reeaaally hard to find since it doesn't have the relationship tag for Luz and Eda, but still, it's very good! Post-YBOS, Luz has a nightmare and goes to Eda for comfort, confessing that she misses her mom.

Sleepless Nights by @snail-watch

Similar to the one before this, Luz has a nightmare and goes to Eda for comfort. I loved the way the author wrote Eda's thoughts about Luz!

Mending Trust by @electricwalkman

Similar to The Light Behind Your Eyes. Eda puts Luz to bed, and Luz tells her about the portal being destroyed, and gives her the mask piece. Eda comforts her, as well.

Night Owl and

The Bad Dream Club by @thedrunkenwerewolf / @wolfiethewriter

Eda has trouble sleeping, Luz notices, and Eda confessed that she's scared of hurting Luz as the beast. Luz of course, reassures her by telling her it won't happen. The second fic is the other way around, sorta. Luz has a nightmare and gets herself a drink to calm down, and Eda finds her.

Dreams of a Witch by TheDinosaurNerd

Eda talks to her younger self in her mindscape about her life as a wild witch. (In the end it turns out to be Luz in her lap.)

Griffon Flu by @serendipitouslyss

Another great sickfic! Luz gets the flu, or Griffon Flu as it's called in the Boiling Isles, but Eda and King are more than willing to help her get better.

Owlet by spotty8bee

Ah, the cursed AU that started it all. Only 2 chapters, but it's wonderfully heartbreaking and you really feel for Eda in the second half of chapter 1.

Observations of the Witchy Kind by JoLau

If you like platonic cuddling, you'll love this fic! Luz wants to learn about witch biology, but unfortunately Boscha burns the notebook that had her research, so she tries to rewrite her observations, and ends up catching Eda's attention.

I Need You, Please Don't Leave Me by rainbowpotato12

Luz is having bad thoughts, and worries that something bad could happen to Eda again, but Eda reassures her it won't.

This is Home by SpaghettieBabie

Luz has doubts about herself, and opens up to Eda about it, confessing that she likes her as her mother figure.

I Love the Found Family Trope! by @l-egionaire

Takes place after The Intruder. Eda thinks that Luz and King might leave her after knowing about the curse, and they tell her they would never do that.

Nightmare by OneandOnlyOllie

Another nightmare fic! Eda comforts Luz after a nightmare. Lilith hears the two, and wants to make things right with Luz.

It was not, in fact, a day out by @pizzaboat

Post-YBOS. Eda turns into the Owl Beast, tries to cuddle Luz, Lilith and King in her nest, and they have to come up with a working scheme to turn her back. Basically The Intruder if Lilith was there.

A broken brain by @pizzaboat

I can relate to this one a lot (except my adhd is diagnosed). Luz has trouble focusing on homework, and doesn't know why, and tells Eda she thinks she's going crazy, but Eda tells her she's not, and that Lilith had a similar problem.

What big claws (to protect you with my dear) by @ito-itonomen

AU where Luz is 10 and Eda takes her in, and both of them have doubts about themselves. Chapter 2 is especially good.

Unexpected Hope by @sepublic

Luz talks to Lilith about how she had (surprisingly) inspired her.

Lilith and Eda

Mistakes Might Have Been Made by @fallenflowersfromgrace

WARNING: you will definitely cry in the second chapter!

An AU in which Lilith split the curse with Eda the first time she transformed. Of course, by the time she reveals that she cursed her, it doesn't go well. (Eda's reaction hurts, but it's in character) and the pain in chapter 2 is just…AGONY AND ITS SO GOOD!

Walk Through the Storm, I Would by @lilithswxfe

Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal thoughts in this fic.

Lilith tries to hurt herself while in a bad state, but Eda catches her and comforts her.

Source Decay series by @tiredandjaded

Trigger warning for underage drinking in the second fic.

Two pre-canon fics about Lilith and Eda, the first fic portraying Eda as trans and how she's feeling about her name, and how Lilith helps her. The second one is sadder, it's after the curse and Eda isn't taking Lilith coming home late very well, leading to some…not-so-great coping mechanisms.

Rabbit Heart by radiantstaber

It has found family Owl Mom moments, but then it is mostly about Lilith and Eda rebuilding their relationship, with Luz trying her best to encourage both of them. (The description is very funny, describing the Owl House as a get along shirt.)

The Cafeteria Incident by @electricwalkman

Remember that page from Eda's record about Eda summoning abominations because somebody stole Lilith's lunch money? This is based on that, and it's SO GOOD!

Runaway Raven by @witchesbeforewizardss

Trigger warning for graphic injuries

In both Lilith thinks she doesn't belong with her family in the Owl House, and tries to "punish" herself. Eda convinces her that it's not worth it and she just wants her sister back.

The Long Night by @serendipitouslyss

Post-YBOS, just like The Light Behind Your Eyes. Eda puts Luz to bed, and she and Lilith have a long talk. (Though she's not as harsh.)

A Midnight Talk by @elizabethemerald

Lilith sees Luz having a nightmare, and calms her down for a little bit (via stroking her hair). Eda sees her, and the two have a talk.

I Need a Moment to Quiet This Pain by @come-unhinged

Moments in Eda's life and how she dealt with her curse.

Part 2 might have Lumity idk

#long post #fanfic recommendation #fanfic #fanfiction #fic recs #the owl house #toh #owl house #the owl house fanfiction #found family #Luz noceda #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #Lilith clawthorne #Clawthorne sisters #eda the owl lady #eda the owl mom #mom Eda

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ohmysparkle · 3 years

Text

🌙 Part I

🌙 Pairing: Jung Jaehyun (NCT) x Reader, Johnny (NCT) x Reader

🌙 Genre: Angst, Soulmate au

🌙 Word count: 3K

🌙 Warnings: the sadness of it all!!! Drinking, mentions of abandonment and cheating, mental illness and bad coping.

🌙 Series Masterlist

🌙 Note: This series was sparked by an ask from my first account. It’s been collecting dust for a few months, but I’ve always had the intention of finishing it!! It’s been slightly rewritten.

🌙 Tag List: @justineasian

Life was…

Well, something.

Sometimes you would say it was horrible. Horribly lonely, horribly difficult, horribly pathetic. Sometimes you would say it wasn’t worth living. Sometimes you looked back on all of the milestones in your life that brought you to where you were and you’d say it wasn’t worth it all. But then, you had one thing in this complicated life that sometimes made life with living.

One thing, one person: your soulmate. Now, everyone had theirs. Everyone was destined to meet them at least once. Most of the time, they spent their lives together, in love and union. Other times, they would meet at the wrong time and place, or already be enamoured with others. Regardless, you looked forward to meeting yours, and you mustered the strength to start every day with a smile, just in case today was that day.

Some people described meeting your soulmate as a sort of ping in their mind, others as if the world was colorless before and then became full of color, some even said it was like a magnetic force pulled them towards each other. Something would happen that would make you undeniably certain that you had met them - something monumental.

You felt giddy and giggled at the thought of what you would feel. Would today be that day? When you finally had someone beside you, someone to build a home with? ‘Could I be that lucky today?’

Maybe you were too focused on it. You longed for it. It was the answer to everything you had ever asked for. Love - which had been so absent in your life, had been a difficult thing to find. For years now, without your parents, you had been lonely and searching for someone you could feel loved and protected by. Perhaps that led you to so desperately and easily throw yourself into the arms of the wrong men, assuming that the most superficial things meant true love, meant happiness and security. When the veil of your enthusiasm, and your ignorance, finally peeled back, reality would crash down on you - leaving you feeling betrayed, hurt, and worst of all stupid.

Maybe you shouldn’t excite yourself so much over the prospect of your soulmate? What if it was just another heartbreak? You’d heard these stories before - it could happen. People aren’t born a certain way, they become a certain way as they live life, as they live as their own selves and it was possible to stray so much from your original self that the love you were destined for at birth was no longer fated to be.

Maybe, just maybe, you should have prepared yourself better for that horrible, horrible outcome.

As you had just begun attending university, you had slowly acquainted yourself with the campus. Today of all days, you decided to sit down at an unassuming coffee shop that rested in what seemed to have once been a residential house. The tables were plentiful among rooms strewn with books and old furniture, there was a stale scent from the old paper and wood, matched with some sweet brewing chai and rich coffee. It wasn’t too full, moderately quiet. You thought it would be a nice replacement to your usual table at the library.

You snake through the tables and bulky chairs as you try to find the perfect spot, your hips occasionally grazing the furniture, when -

“Excuse me, you dropped this.” Someone says as you’re nearing a table, and as you turn to see the stranger holding up your student ID, you feel it.

A dizzying, pleasant sensation that elevated your senses to a new standard. Everything seemed brighter, clearer, more vivid, and it all drove you to him, his eyes, his face, his voice, even his scent. Whatever it was, he could feel it too, as his eyes went wide while looking into yours. It was like you were absorbing everything in your surroundings with every fiber of your being, but all of it began, and concluded, in your perception of him.

You slightly dipped backward from the intensity of it all, your knees going weak from the sudden onslaught of feelings, but he caught you in his arms, and it felt so right. Your ears rang, and at some moment, which you hardly perceived, both of you were sitting down on a small couch that he had steered you towards.

It took a moment for the two of you to regain your senses, and naturally you looked towards each other.

“I’m Y/n.” You finally say, looking at him with a beaming smile… until… he casts his eyes downward.

“What’s your name?” you finally ask him. Had his resolve been stronger, he would have resisted the sweetness in your voice. He would have ignored you, he should have left you.

“Jaehyun.” He finally says. It’s all he says, he has already said one word too many.

“Jaehyun. I like that name.” He was probably feeling nervous, you reason, he most likely is at a loss of words.

“Look, Y/n.” He says while abruptly getting up and standing in front of you. “I know what we just felt means we’re soulmates, but I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. And look, this isn’t about you, you’re probably a nice girl, but you should just forget this happened and go find yourself someone who actually wants to love you.”

And after that rant, which left you completely frozen and baffled, he left.

He just left.

As if you had dreamed him up and he hadn’t even been there in the first place - he was gone.

You didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense. You were still dumbfounded and after that encounter you had been so distraught that you just headed home. After hours of replaying the scenario over and over again in your mind, you finally settled to cry over it until you fell asleep.

Your only conclusion was to find him. You needed to see him again, talk to him, and reason with him. What had been so wrong about him meeting you that he abandoned you like that? He abandoned you as if you meant nothing to him.

It’s odd now, that after meeting your soulmate you felt so lost. It was a bit stupid on your end; every day went on to the next based on the hope that you would meet the one, but it never occurred to you to think beyond. What comes after?

There was no splendid meeting, no love at first sight, only rejection. What else was there for you to look forward to? What happens now?

So, after that, waking up in the mornings went back to what they used to be. One horrible day after the other, mustering the strength to start the day with a smile, just in case today was that day when you’d meet your soulmate - for the second time. It would have been worse to surrender to the fate that you’d never see him again, because then the days would become voids; nothingness heading toward nothingness.

It’s funny how you measure time. Time is energy, energy forcing yourself to get up and live, energy spent and consumed, replenished with food and drink and sleep, and then all over again, like a battery draining and recharging itself. Except there is no purpose to this energy, it was just existence.

It was actually three days. A dozen or so cycles of your ups and downs, and on one dreary walk to a campus cafeteria to grab lunch, just when your energy was about to deplete, you saw him.

It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you and you were awake again, aroused from the limbo. He didn’t see you, he was at a table with his friends, and you still don’t know if it was the connection that blindly led you to him, or your need for answers, or just the desire to see if he would accept you the second time around. Nonetheless you approached, stubbornly.

One of his friends noticed you first, handsome, and he nudged the one sitting beside him with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, a sort of ‘check her out’.

“Can I help you with anything cutie?” Says the first young man.

“Um… I need to talk to him.” You answer, meekly pointing towards Jaehyun who sat near the pair.

“Oh, do we have a date?” Said the second, teasing and flirting.

“No, I need to speak to Jaehyun.” You say a little more loudly, and at this, his eyes raise from the notebook he was preoccupied with, and again they go wide. It was as if time froze when he looked at you, and as he stayed frozen in place his friends gradually caught on to the strange interaction.

“Jaehyun, can we please talk?” You say again, firmly and resolute. It took a shake from a third young man who sat beside him for him to finally react.

“No, sorry.” He said as he buried his nose back into his notes. His third friend looked up at you in confusion and sympathy, and it was obvious that some of his friends had been taken aback by his abrupt tone. But you stood your ground.

“Jaehyun, you and I should speak.” You surprised yourself with the steadiness of your tone since you felt your emotions begin to build up. The heat spread upwards from your neck to your face. After years of being cast aside, these situations no longer made you feel small or saddened, but the anger still managed to escape from you. Indignation - this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

And yet here you begged.

Jaehyun simply acted like you weren’t there. You gave him a few seconds, the same third friend leaned into his ear to insist that he “say something”, but Jaeyun acted as if nothing was happening. Others at the table looked at you with a bit of pity, another thing that made you angry. It all made you furious.

“You can pretend all you want that I’m not here, but we both know perfectly well that you shouldn’t be avoiding this. At least have the decency to talk to me, you coward.” The tears stung at your eyes and your voice began to pitch upward and shake as your words progressed. Frustration, anger, rejection. The words were spit out like venom, and before they could see a single droplet of the pain spill from your eyes, you had left.

But at night, after you went home and kept crying, it was that same old sadness and smallness that absorbed you.

How many days had or hadn’t you slept by now?

You didn’t count.

How many classes had you missed?

No idea.

Meals and water?

Sometimes when you felt like you needed them, other times when you just felt like it; be it less or more. Drunkenness and candy highs. Hunger and coffee. No decent meals to be seen though. Water on occasion.

You’d been going to the nearby 7-11 so often that a couple of cashiers knew your name by memory now, memorized from your ID. They’d throw you a concerned look when they watched you walk out with nothing but junk food and alcohol, sometimes at unreasonable hours.

It’s during one of these supply runs, when you’re sipping wine from the bottle while walking back to your apartment on a particularly hot afternoon, that someone stops you.

“Hey! Hey, excuse me! Hey!” You can hear someone running behind you. Oh goodness, this is not something you’re looking forward to. Why can’t this wine just be drunk in peace?

You don’t even turn to meet the source of the voice, instead, you find him running around to your front to stand face to face with you and cut off your path.

“Hey! You’re Y/n, right?” He asks breathlessly. You slurp some wine from the bottle, holding it flimsily from its neck while your other arm carries another bag full of more depression supplies.

“Yes.” You answer, regretting you were not yet tipsy. He looks a bit concerned at your state. A stained tank top with a strap hanging off of your shoulder, worn out denim shorts and flip flops, a careless bundle of hair. Sure, it was a reasonable look for the hot afternoon, but in your current disposition, he could tell you weren’t doing well.

“Can we talk somewhere?” He asks with worry.

“No.” Goodness, just move out of my way. You begin to walk past him but he backtracks so he’s still in front of you and he grabs you by your arms.

“Please, it’s about Jaehyun.” He finally says. You wanted to say no, but something compelled you to agree. No, nothing really compelled you, it was more just the ease of agreeing. You didn’t have the energy in you to fight back.

“Fine. Come along.” You say, moving to continue the short walk towards your apartment building, on which he wordlessly trails behind you.

Despite your current humor, your apartment managed to stay clean. It looked neat, tidy, cozy, like it belonged to someone in better spirits. That was something that Jaehyun’s friend found entirely surprising.

“Sit.” You gestured toward the small living room while setting your bag on the kitchen counter, not once letting go of your wine bottle. His friend sat, and wondered how to best approach the subject at hand.

“You’re his soulmate, aren’t you?” His friend suddenly asks and you chuckle before bringing the bottle up to your lips again. “I - I’m sorry that’s not how I should have started out.”

“You’re right.” You simply state.

“I’m Johnny.”

“Hi Johnny.”

“Look, I know this sounds weird, but I felt like I needed to talk to you. Jae sometimes… he’s difficult.” Johnny sighs, “I kinda guessed what had happened and I felt like someone needed to tell you about it.”

“Shouldn’t he be telling me about ‘it’?” You reply flatly. Standing before him, looking down at the tall man, you begin to feel a bit regretful of your coldness towards him. He didn’t seem ill-intentioned, and the more you looked at him and puzzled together his reason for approaching you, you assumed he’d been there to extend a bit of an olive branch. You sighed too, and Johnny saw the firmness in your posture soften a bit. It surprised him though, that you sat beside him, and his heart broke a little as he saw your downcast eyes.

“What do you need to tell me?” You ask in the softest of voices.

“I tried to talk to Jae about it… about why you came up to him the way you did and why he ignored you like that.” You hum in response, letting him know you were listening.

“At first I thought you were just another one of those girls.” He continues, “But Jaehyun had seemed different for a while so I asked him about you.”

“What do you mean ‘another one of those girls’?”

“Well, Jae’s pretty popular… and he’s got a bit of a reputation.”

“I’ve never heard about him before.” You reply, “I just started studying here.”

“Well, maybe it’s best if you hear it from me then. But Jaehyun, he’s not good - I mean he is a good person - he just… does bad things sometimes.”

“… Johnny?” you ask after a while of silence.

“Someone hurt him, really bad. It was the first time he had fallen in love, she was his first everything… and she was sleeping around with people behind his back the entire time, but Jaehyun caught her. She claimed that the guy she was sleeping with that time was her ‘soulmate’, and that it was a moment of passion, but she was going to tell him… just a bunch of excuses…”

“And?”

“Turns out he wasn’t… just another guy she was sleeping with. It took him a while to piece the entire story together, but you can guess how he felt about it.”

“Oh.” You still don’t look at Johnny.

“The way he treated you… it isn’t about you. He’s spent the last couple of years breaking one heart after the other. He just can’t love - and it’s his way of getting back at her, I guess.” Johnny grabs your shoulder and turns to look at you but your eyes still avoid his. “He’s not a bad person. I tried talking to him but he never listens, he knows he’s not right but I’ll try to make him listen, I promise.”

You begin to cry, curling into yourself and Johnny can’t help but hug you. You let him. It only felt natural.

“I waited for this my entire life..” You sob with a cracking and hideous voice, and with awfully wet sniffles. “This isn’t fair! He could love me and you’re telling me he’s just too mean to! It’s not fair.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry, I promise I’ll talk to him. For you.” His words were reassuring, but you found more comfort in the gesture of it all. Johnny - who you had just met - was Jaehyun’s friend, but at that moment he felt like he was yours.

He stayed there for a while, rubbing and patting your back. You could tell it wasn’t the first time he had tried to mend the broken hearts Jaehyun had left behind.

You lifted your head up, meeting his eyes just inches away from his face. Your cheeks and lashes wet, your face hot and eyes red. He couldn’t help but swipe the tears away with his thumb, and your natural reaction was to lean your face into his palm.

“Thank you, Johnny.” you tell him once he’s stepping out of your apartment, “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him, I promise you.” He sends you one final solemn smile before turning to head out.

It’s odd that now, after meeting your soulmate's best friend, you didn’t feel so lost.

#nct angst #nct jaehyun angst #nct Johnny angst #nct imagines #nct au

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