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#it's a completely different fic but I am working on it!
wangxianficfinder · 3 days
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Fic Finder
June 10th
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1. Hiya, please help me find this fic! Lan Zhan is the king/emperor and has to choose a consort/empress. There is a bridal selection held and I know Mianmian was one of the candidates. They do a series of challenges and Lan Zhan basically tricks Wei Wuxian into completing them/qualifying. At one point, the candidates have to go through this maze, and Wei Wuxian gets 'kidnapped' and dumped in the maze and finds his way out really fast out into a hall where everyone is just like 'how the hell did he get in there and come out so fast?' and Lan Zhan uses that to show the council/elders that Wei Wuxian is a perfectly acceptable choice while WWX is just confused as always. Thank you! @iuocean
FOUND? The Imperial Jewel by Serinah (E, 39k, WangXian, Emperor and his concubine, Dubious Consent,bExtreme at first, gets better, A/B/O, omega wwx,bAlpha LWJ, Concubine WWX, Emperor LWJ, Oblivious Wwx, wwx's pov, Mutual Pining, Angst and Feels, Deviates From Canon, WWX has a golden core, but still practices dark arts, WWX exchanges his life for the Wens’, other differences, UST, S/D, undrenegotiated kink, Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms,bOther kinks, WWX likes spanking, Smut and Feels, fucking while pining, noncon, for the beginning of the first scene, It Gets Better, starts smutty, gets plotty, ends lovely, Feels, Power Imbalance, Public Sex)
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2. Hi there! Im not sure if I have already asked this or if I dreamt it but I have been looking for one specific ff for almost three years now. It's on ao3 and the only plot points I remember were that it was a modern au, wangxian were friends, something happened to wwx and the decided to go on a little impulsive roadtrip (Iwj phoned his brother and said "I am eloping with wei ying" which was funny but he was so serious deep inside) and then they found out they have been in love all along and get together.
Another thing I remember is that the author put a lot of songs into the fic for the roadtrip and I have all the song names;
the brummies - lovers do
give my heart a little break - summer salt
I don't wanna be okay without you - charlie burg
honeymoon - the shadowboxers
You'd think with all the songs I could have found it by now but I can't seem to win. If you can find anything please please I will sell my firstborn :) that fic was comfort like you can't believe @mdzshemel
FOUND? 🔒 and i think it's going to be a long, long time by belovedmuerto (T, 39k, WangXian, Road Trips, Modern, There Was Only One Bed, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Pining, Weddings, sibling relationships)
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3. hi, fic finder request! i know that it was a royalty au where lxc was the king and jgy was married to him, but from there my memory is vague... i seem to recall a scene (that may or may not have involved a mirror?) where jgy is using dark magic and eventually lxc and the rest of the lan family and kingdom find out the jgy is evil. jgy was using the dark magic to poison someone, either lxc or himself (?) TYSM for helping!!
FOUND? the lotus in between by whiteskyland (Not Rated, 22k, LXC/JC, LXC/JGY, WangXian, WIP, Angst, Whump, JC Needs a Hug, A/B/O, Alpha LXC, Omega JC, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Arranged Marriage, Royalty, Hurt/Comfort, Omega JGY, JC Has No Golden Core)
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4. Hello! I'm I'm desperate to find a Wangxian fic with a Modern AU where JC wants to adopt a dog, and they recommend WWX to see a therapist or work at a veterinarian (I don't remember well) and that's where LWJ comes in. But supposedly he has a dark secret that he can't tell WWX, the thing is that I don't remember if it's a werewolf AU or something else like that. I honestly don't know if it's still on ao3, but I'll keep looking for it and I thought it was worth it to ask here if anyone remembers or knows this fic.
Maybe you'll have better luck that me, anyway thanks for listening to my ramblings!!!
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5. Hi! I’m looking for a fic that takes place in the cloud recesses era. When WWX is supposed to be punished, instead of copying the rules in the library, both WWX and LWJ teach the younger Lan disciples sword forms and fighting. During this time they bond and start a relationship.
I just remember a scene where they are putting away the wooden swords and they lock themselves in the shed (?) and start making out? (I think??).
Thanks! @estathom
FOUND? 💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons Series by starandrea (Varies, 1m, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Happy Ending, Telepathic bond, Kink Negotiation, Family Drama, Magical Pregnancy, Dual Cultivation, Shapeshifters, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Yilling Wei Sect, podfic) one of the magical marriage ribbon series, closer to the beginning // the second work
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6. I am looking for a canon-era fic where Wuxian was the son of Lan Qiren and Cangse Sanren. Neither Wuxian or Lan Qiren know this, as they both presume Wei Changze was Wuxian’s father. They learn the truth during the Cloud Recesses study arc when the class learns a talisman that writes out family trees. Qiren demands to take Wuxian from Lotus Pier and continue raising and teaching him in the Lan.
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7. hello! i'm trying to find a modern au wangxian fic where wwx is living with the wens and lwj is a performance artist coming to the (local) yiling gallery, and they meet again while lwj is doing his exhibition (he's like. running a booth where he just stares into the other person's eyes for like 10 minutes). it's on the shorter side - i want to say it's 3 chapters? @grillanarchy
FOUND! when you say nothing at all by sysrae (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, artist LWJ, tattoo artist WWX, past angst, Getting Together, emotionally significant art installations, Soulmates)
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8. Hello.
I'm sorry for asking at the you are off. But it's been bugging my mind. I've read these fic before but i forgot the title and where i read it.
Do you know a fic its m/m where lan zhan and wei ying married and wei ying had a miscarriage so both of them go to somewhere and ended in a village. They lived in there for a while until wei ying got pregnant again and decided to go back to gusu?
And one fic where wei ying is pregnant and had been followed by the lan juniors while lan zhan gone to somewhere?
Please help me. @rottenapple116
FOUND! Sky, Cloud and Lotus by Xantya24 (M, 219k, WangXian, JC/LXC, LJY/LSZ/JL, WIP, Mpreg, A/B/O, Everyone Lives, Certain characters are dead as canon, Family Fluff, Angst, Sad with a Happy Ending, Miscarriage, Bullying, Graphic Description, Isolation, Dreams and Nightmares, Things can get fucked up)
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9. Hello! I'm searching for a fic where wei ying is actually the son of wen ruohan and cangse sanren. I only remember the part where wen ruohan visited lotus pier and saw wei ying being whipped to death by yu ziyuan and him being absolutely livid. I think wen xu was also there, he was really nice and showed wei ying the wen's market(?). thank you!!
FOUND? Scars of Lightning by The_peregrine_falcon (T, 6k, YZY & WWX, WWX & WRH, WangXian, YZY's A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Wen WWX, zidian, YZY is a bitch, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Heavy Angst, Lotus Pier, Nightless City, Young WWX, Muteness, Hurt kind of comfort) Though he's not WRH blood son but adopted son in it. WRH does see him get attacked by YZY though, somewhere in the middle of the fic
FOUND? The Littlest Sun by Kuroishuuha (T, 23k, WWX is a Wen, Wen Wuxian, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe, Good Parent WRH, Not YZY Friendly, Medical Inaccuracies, Family Fluff, Good Brother WX) It has WWX as WRH child and a shopping scene with WX.
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10. Hello I was suggested to seek help here to find fics that I have been trying to find for a really really long time. I hope you could help me with them.
A. The fic was set post canon where Lan Wangji seemed to have lost his memory of WWX and Wei Wuxian tries to help him get his memory back. This seems to be a common premise but what resonated me about the fic was that there was a use of a song to cure the memory loss and the song required lots of energy and thus Wei Wuxian had decided to play the song in parts and Wangxian navigate around eachother as LWJ slowly gets his memory back in snippets.
B. This one is set in post canon as well but this focuses much more on the relationship of Wei Wuxian with Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling. In this fic it seems that Wei Wuxian tends to favour Lan Sizhui above anyone else and thus Jin Ling gets jealous at this prospect. I don't remember many finer details of the story besides these.
10A)
FOUND? #10a sounds like "an effect (without a cause)" by astrobandit. It is no longer on Ao3. i have a pdf copy from the wayback machine if anyone needs it. ~the-marathon-continues-nip
10B)
FOUND? Not Yet (There As Needed) by sunrise_and_death (T, 13k, LSZ & WWX, JL & WWX, JL & LSZ, WangXian, Post-Canon, Family Feels, Family Bonding, POV LSZ, This Fic Has Everything, even more yearning, WWX & LSZ figuring out wtf their relationship is, Dramatic Revelations, JL being the contrary lil bean he is, all the juniors thinking WWX is the greatest thing to ever happen to them, and in case you missed it yearning)
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11. Hiiiii. Im looking for a fic where wei ying is either a tiger or wolf and he gets stuck in that form for awhile. I just remember he goes missing for awhile and lwj is looking for him - i think they are engaged or married then. Lwj finds him with sl and xxc. I think he gets stuck in that form after fighting wc or wzl or wx and he goes around trying to get a glimpse of someone in white or hes looking for lwj's scent?
Sorry its so vague 🙈 but thats all i remember
FOUND? 🔒 Unstoppable by Netrixie (T, 150k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Burn, Minor Original Character(s), Cloud Recesses, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Angst, Wolf-shifter WWX, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Fix-It, Werewolf, Shapeshifters, Sunshot Campaign, Translation Available, Russian, Canonical Lan arm strength)
FOUND? The Tiger has Destroyed his Cage by updatebug (G, 54k, WangXian, JFM/YZY, Shapeshifters, Fix-it fic, Most people live, and the ones who don't were aholes anyway, Animal Pelts, Tiger WWX, Found Family, adopted famil, yYungmeng Siblings, LWJ is very confused, You can tell from his face, Canon appropriate angst and violence, Gratuitous OCs, If canon will not give me women I will make them, Jiang Sect) For the sake of propriety, since it's been a while since I last read either Tiger vers or Beast of Gusu, imma drop The Tiger Has Destroyed Its Cage for 11 as well sincd Beast of Gusu is already recced, and OP technically mentions both (and I /think/ the one op wants is Tiger verse rather than Beast of Gusu)
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12. Hiii
Thank you so much for all your hard work 💜
Can you please find me a fic where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying meet in a game. I think Wei Ying's avatar and Wen Chao's avatar were married and then Wen Chao divorced Wei ying's character and lan zhan offers a marriage proposal.
Then they meet and gradually fall in love in real life too
I think Hualian comes up in the fic where Hua Cheng is the owner of the company which created the game .
🩵🩵🩵🩵
FOUND? Dreams of Cultivation by mortuus_lingua (M, 97k, WangXian, LXC/JC, SL/XXC, HC & XL, Gaming, Wuxia, Nonbinary Character, Queer Themes, LWJ Uses Actual Words, Nonbinary NHS, Nonbinary XXC, BAMF WQ, Modern, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Oblivious WWX, Protective JC, Cinnamon Roll WN, Developing Relationship)
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13. Hii! Im currently looking for a fic on ao3, about wwx crossdressing and faking being lwj wife. I dont remember if it was post ressurection or not, and i think wen qing might have been involved in the lie? But i could be wrong. There were two moments that i remember, that when wwx tells the truth to Lan qiren he reveals he already knew and that wwx fakes fainting at some point to shame someone over a rude remark.
FOUND? My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies) if he's just pretending to have married LWJ
FOUND? The Amazing Adventures Of Jiang Xiaolian And Family by bumbledees (T, 71k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JC/WN, Mild to Moderate Pining, lotus pier siblings quietly also have a penchant for chaos, WWX will make LQR like him whether the old man likes it or not, WWX just wants to have fun and not be killed and also to go to his sister's wedding, Mutual Pining, WWX is more stubborn than a boulder and twice as dense, Everybody Lives, nobody who matters anyways, except for WN, you're an angel and we're delighted you're here, WangXian canon is sad bitch let's get you some fun, "WWX fools the entire cultivation world", "and kicks up drama in front of their salad", testimonial from reader Vapid_Girl and a good summary of this fic, warnings for sexual harassment due to JGS, and for the canonical behavior of the jin clan ie war crimes, forced labor, human trafficking, etc., hello naughty jin cultivators it's revenge time :), jiang "rolling gay crisis" wanyin, wen "deserved better" qionglin, yunmeng bros feelings, copious use of bad language grace à JC, my oddball collection of headcanons concerning fierce corpses, WN has a playful streak, anyone friends with WWX has to have one on some level, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, extremely brief mention of something approaching a conversion camp but it's just two sentences, Happy Ending, Let JC Experience Happiness, WN is technically undead in this so uhhh warning for that, he's far more like a vampire than a zombie honestly, so JC gets his own YA supernatural romance novel basically, at least WN doesn't sparkle????, Crack Taken Mostly Seriously, like many of WWX's best ideas it starts as a joke!, purposeful baby aquisition, WWX when will you learn that there are consequences to your actions) if the marriage actually happens. // 100% sure that 13 is The Amazing Adventures of Jiang Xiaolian, I just finished reading that and it fits perfectly. // WWX pretends to faint in chapter 6 and LQR reveals he figured it out (and threw a teapot against the wall when he did so) in chapter 19.
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14. Hi! I'm looking for a fic that was funny I think, LWJ goes into the past, don't remember if it'd on purpose or not, it's the first night they meet, and instead of repeating the rules, he flirts with WWX and WWX can't handle it and I remember specifically LWJ thinking now I see why WWX teases, this is fun. And he says something along the lines of I won't tell anyone if you give me a kiss, and apparently LXC was there because they next day he says he didn't realize his brother was so smooth.
I've searched and searched (and got lost in new fics), if you guys are able to find it, that would be amazing!
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15. Thank you all for this glorious blog. I have a fic finder request. For a solid 3 months I have been trying to find it but alas. It's wangxian, f/f, on ao3. I think it's arranged marriage. Wangxian are married in any case but lwj isn't interested in anything but sex while wwx is very much in love with lwj. At some point, just as wwx starts thinking lwj might be softening toward her, she finds out that lwj is to have a concubine, Mianmian who lwj is old friends with. So wwx starts pulling away to give lwj opportunity to be with MM and is just very miserable.
I don't know for sure if wwx goes for a visit to Lotus Pier and that's where it happens or if she's holing up somewhere in Cloud Recesses, but Lwj goes to her and apologizes and they talk it through and there is a happy ending.
I BELIEVE it's 3 chapters but it could be 5. Anyway it's SO GOOD and I'm aching to reread it. @trulywicked
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16. Hi, its my first time asking for a fic but i remember a jiang cheng centered fic which was about if jiang cheng found out bout the golden core transfer earlier. In that, wuxian doesnt die nor do the remanents and i was just wondering if you can find it because i cant remember what the name was. Thank you in advance^-^
FOUND? Rewrite the stars by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 70k, JC & JYL & WWX, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL & MM & WQ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective JC, yunmeng sibling love, Canon Divergence, Lives get saved, Yunmeng sibling bonding,bHurt/Comfort, Protective JYL, Golden Core Reveal, JYL & JZX Live, Fix-It, fuck JGS, JZN too, no one tolerating jin sect's bullshit, Found Family, JC GETS TO BE HAPPY AND IS MARRIED, JYL & WQ & MM GET TO BE SWORN SISTERS, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, just a bit, WWX has PTSD due to Burial Mounds, Very protective younger bro vibes, soft JC, Family Feels, Healing, Not Everyone Dies, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, WWX will get a New Golden Core, justice for the wen remnants)
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17. Hii, absolutely love your page. Have come across such great fics here. I am actually looking a for a Wangxian fanfic which I think was CQL post-canon. I remember just this part where LWJ & WWX were going to get married and like just one day before their marriage (by the way all the guests and sects are there at Cloud Recesses), someone releases a dog/wolf yao or something similar and WWX gets like critically injured trying to project Sizhui. I remember really loving the fic but I can’t seem to find it anywhere:( Would really appreciate it if you could perhaps find it <3<3
FOUND? The Boy with the Sunshine Smile by Witch_Nova221 (T, 153k, WangXian, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Parenthood, Growing Up) the injury+aftermath are chapters 22 & 23
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18. Looking for a fic where WWX made these like talisman things that stored memories are smth like that and then he dies and when he comes back his memories/past were shown to the cultivation world through those talismen and everyone is like “he’s a good guy!” and JC and LWJ tag along with WWX
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19. I'm looking for a wangxian fic :D I believe it was a characters-watching-their-series or watching-a-character's memories kind of fic, but where it was shown in songs. I specifically remember the characters watching married wangxian to the song Dandelions by Ruth B, and I think WWX's parents may have been there as well, so potentially there was a little bit of time magicky stuff too? Thank you for your help! @shieldherostuffs
FOUND? Mo Dao Zu Shi: The Musical by Loveable_Psychopath (Not Rated, 117k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-it, Song Fic, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking) The song is in the last chapter
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20. Hi! Can you help me find a fic? It's a (sort of) time travel fix-it where the Lans (LWJ and LQR are the ones i remember the most) are nice to WWX and it confuses him a lot. I remember a scene where WWX was asking about the "energy is energy" thing, expecting to get kicked out of the class by LQR, but he gets his answer calmly(?) and confused on why some of the Lans look like they're nostalgic from what he just said
FOUND? Cluster of Clouds by Nika_Raven_Celeste (T, 20k, WangXian, LWJ & WWX, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX, WIP, Time Travel, The Lans from Post Canon Time Traveled to Cloud Recesses Study Era, ALL The Lans from Post Canon, The Lans ADORES WWX, Confused WWX, Soft LQR, Soft LWJ , LWJ CAN communicate, Not JC Friendly , not YZY Friendly, Genius WWX, Horny LWJ, but he still has some restraints, Oblivious WWX)
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vxiphoid · 3 days
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ARTIST’S CANVAS
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❨ summary ❩ twst › when you look at a pretty blank canvas, its only natural you’d want to turn it into something more breathtaking.
tags ✧ fluff; lower case writing.
amanuensis’ message ⊹ 10 months, not a single written fic. i am so sorry yall
⌜ 0.4+ ⌟
♫ spin you round — rocco.
twst masterlist
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“s’cold.”
the dark—almost black—paste coating leona’s hand in intricate designs setting on his skin mixed with the warmth of your hands around his felt funny. the paste was a drastic contrast upon his tawny skin. on occasion, he’d let your creative mind take over and draw on him with any writing utensil that was nearby. in class, it’d give him an excuse not to pay attention and in his dorm, your lap to sleep while you worked. half of the time when you were finished, he considered getting another tattoo, snapping a picture when you looked away just in case it faded. not once had he thought of a temporary tattoo.
the first thing that came to mind when he thought of temporary were the ones on paper that you’d transfer with water. ones that he’d slap on his body to look cool as a kid. the same ones that’ll start peeling the moment you brush it wrong. this was a completely different method than what he was thinking. a creamy consistency of dye in a piping bag. henna. it rolled off the tongue as smooth as its application.
a light laugh leaves your lips at his comment, pausing to give him a quick glance. he looked like a cat watching a ping pong match. you don’t think you’ve ever seen his pupils this large and his slowly swaying tail certainly wasn’t helping the comparison.
leona watched in silent interest as you worked. It had to be something about your hands. How your pinky stayed out for stabilization, how carefully you held his hand as if you’d break it if you moved him a certain way. then again, he could also blame that on the amount of focus you had. they moved with practiced grace, your emerald-green painted nails glinting under the golden lamp light.
his sheets were littered with various templets and stencils complicated, simple, and some in the middle. he didn’t look at everything before he chose his. he didn’t exactly care what you put on him as long as that pretty little head of yours was having some semblance of fun, those talented hands of yours.
his ear flicks. “what color is this again?”
you take a moment to pull his hand closer to the light when it came down to the finer details. “regular old brown. it might look a little reddish in the sun though.”
“neon?”
you scoff out a laugh. “gods, no. way more subtle.”
even after you had laughed, your smile stayed—as heartwarming and raw as ever. like a sweetener in a cup of coffee he could never get tired to drinking or the smell of gas he found a guilt pleasure. gods, he wanted to hear it again.
maybe being a living, plain canvas wasn’t so bad. as long as it was you painting the blank spots needing filled.
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skyward-floored · 2 days
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This is an earlier version of my fic Murkier Waters, which I’d saved because I thought Legend’s perspective was interesting, even if it didn’t end up working for the end product. It ends at an odd moment and is kinda messy so pleeeeaaaase read the actual fic for much better writing (and an ending lol).
Anyway, voila. Fishy Legend from a different POV.
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“I think we’re lost.”
Legend groaned at Hyrule’s words, watching as the traveler looked around at the trees above them. He stepped into a particularly moist section of dirt while he wasn’t looking, which splashed mud on his boots, and he failed to hold back a sigh.
“I told you we should’ve turned left at that last pond,” Legend grumbled, and Hyrule shrugged with an apologetic smile, a bird cawing loudly in the distance.
Hyrule had sensed a great fairy somewhere in the vicinity, and Legend had tagged along with him, half out of curiosity, and half to make sure his successor didn’t get completely lost. He’d rather failed on that second point though, and they were now miles away from the others in a swamp unfamiliar to them both, getting more lost by the second.
He hated not having a map.
“You don’t think this is the swamp that the Smithy said still had some poison spots in it, do you?” Hyrule asked as he stepped over a puddle, and Legend hummed, looking around.
“How many swamps can there possibly be around here? I haven’t seen anything poisonous-looking though, so maybe Four was wrong,” he replied.
Hyrule nodded, waving a bug away from his face. “Yeah... maybe whatever was left here finally got cleansed or something.”
“Maybe.”
They continued forwards through the muck, swatting away bugs and avoiding one or two birds that swooped past. They had to fight off a couple of keese at one point, but that was the only thing that actively antagonized them, and their walk was fairly uneventful.
Legend wasn’t sure how long they’d been going when the forest opened up, a small lake coming into view through the trees, tall banks on all sides except the one they were standing on. The opposite shore was easily visible, but the water itself shone with an unnatural shimmer, the depths murky and dark.
“Guess we found our poison water,” Hyrule said with a frown, looking across the oily-colored liquid. Legend grabbed a stick and poked it into the water for a minute before pulling it out and inspecting it, but the wood hadn’t corroded at all, and appeared unharmed apart from the slick now coating it.
“Well it doesn’t seem like acid at least,” Legend hummed, giving the water a suspicious look. “I still don’t think we should cross it though.”
Hyrule didn’t appear to have heard him, suddenly perking up as he stared across the shore. His eyes shimmered a little, and Legend raised an eyebrow, leaning over and looking at him.
“Traveler?”
“I think the fairy fountain is over there,” Hyrule replied excitedly, squinting across the lake. “I can feel the magic way more clearly now!”
“Oh. Well that’s great,” Legend drawled. “Except for the fact that there’s a poisonous lake in between it and us, and even if it wasn’t poisonous, you can’t swim.”
Hyrule waved him off, rifling in his bag a moment before pulling out a pair of boots.
“Doesn’t matter, I can walk across water with these, poison or not,” he said with a smile, already slipping off his other pair and putting on the new ones. “It’ll be easy!”
“Well how am I going to get across?” Legend said grumpily, admiring Hyrule’s boots. He could tell they were magic just looking at them, despite their unassuming appearance. Well-made too, magic interwoven as the shoes had been put together, allowing the wearer to walk across water.
...He wanted a pair.
Hyrule looked at him in surprise. “You mean you don’t have any items that’ll help you get across?”
Legend kicked at the mud, mentally going through the list he had of all of his items. Of course he did. He had at least six different ones. Did Hyrule have no faith in him?
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well then come on! Let’s go!” Hyrule said with a smile, and without further ado began walking across the water, faint ripples emanating out from where his feet stepped on the surface.
“I need a pair of boots like that,” Legend grumbled jealously, then pulled out his ice rod to freeze a path he could walk across.
If he was alone, he’d just allow his mermaid transformation to take over and swim across, but he didn’t trust the murky water underneath him one bit. Hyrule didn’t know about his curse yet anyway, and he’d prefer to keep the number of people aware of it as small as possible. Though Hyrule would probably take it in stride, knowing him.
Either way, Legend wanted his feet on something solid, and the ice rod was perfect for that.
He was just glad he’d packed his snowshoe ring.
Hyrule was a small distance ahead of him by the time Legend was ready, and he smirked to himself as he watched the traveler, an idea forming in his head. Legend cracked his knuckles, then suddenly bolted forwards, freezing a path as he ran and quickly catching up to the other boy.
“See you on the other side!” he called behind him, and he heard Hyrule let out an indignant noise, the sound of his boots slapping against the water alerting him to the fact that the traveler was trying to catch up. Legend smirked, and flicked his wrist, slightly curving the ice and making it easier for him to gain speed as he charged across it.
Hyrule was fast though, and soon caught up, then passed him, hair flying in the wind as they raced towards the opposite shore. He didn’t waste his breath on words, merely shooting Legend a cheeky grin as he shot past, and Legend adjusted his cap with a competitive scowl.
He wished he could safely use his Pegasus boots on the ice as he watched Hyrule pull even further ahead, but he’d quickly slip out of control, even with his snowshoe ring.
But Legend was still fast without his boots and managed to put on a burst of speed, quickly pulling up next to the traveler.
Hyrule let out a breathless laugh, and Legend grinned back as they ran, sunlight sparkling off ice and water alike. He and the traveler were neck-and-neck as they raced, and Legend felt his annoyance at the day so far fade with every step he took, keeping pace with Hyrule as they raced across a likely-poisonous lake together.
It’d been too long since he’d goofed off like this.
The shore drew nearer and nearer, Hyrule and Legend both sprinting as fast they could, and Legend was sure that Hyrule was just barely going to beat him —
— Until a scaly green hand shot out of the water, grabbing Hyrule by the ankle and pulling him into the lake.
Legend’s happiness evaporated as Hyrule cried out in surprise, his yell cut off as he was dragged under. Legend jumped forwards and reached out for him mere seconds too late, catching sight of the fear in Hyrule’s eyes before he was lost to his sight in the murk.
“Traveler!” Legend shouted, voice cracking with panic, “Link!”
The water didn’t so much as ripple.
Legend stared for a only a couple more seconds, mind whirling, then he shoved his ice rod into his pack as he bit back a curse.
Hyrule couldn’t swim. Hyrule couldn’t swim and even if he could, some kind of monster had dragged him deep into likely-poisonous water, nullifying the power of his boots and very likely currently trying to eat him.
And Legend could easily save him with the magic in his bones.
Legend hesitated at the thought, looking at the oddly-colored water. He didn’t know what it would do to him if he transformed in its depths, what effects it might have on him if he swam around and breathed it in.
But Hyrule was down there.
Legend looked at the murky water one last time as he drew his sword, then took a deep breath and dove in without further hesitation.
The water slipped around him like a slick of oil, the familiar magic of his tail twisting around his legs as soon as he was submerged. Legend took the few moments while it did its job to look around, squinting as he searched for Hyrule, but saw no sign of him.
Legend’s legs finished painfully merging into a powerful cerulean tail, courtesy of the item he’d picked up all those years ago that had become as much apart of him as his regular magic. He shook out his fins, and finally saw something thrashing nearby. Swimming rapidly towards it, Legend spotted Hyrule struggling with a scaled creature of some kind, his face panicked as he held his breath.
Legend growled and prepared to strike at the monster, but then he took a deep breath.
And it burned.
The water was like fire the moment it filtered through his gills, sending flames searing all throughout his chest.
Legend gasped, but that only made it worse, more of the oily water pulled into his system, the taste of it sickening. He barely felt like he’d taken a breath, and each consecutive one felt worse then the last, stinging needles of ice spreading through his veins as he struggled to breathe.
Ah. Right. Poison water.
Which he was now breathing in, in no small volume.
He coughed, starting to feel sick, but then he heard a hiss and Legend was reminded he wasn’t the only thing in the lake. He managed to swing his sword at the monster despite the ache spreading through his muscles, and it screeched, slipping away with Hyrule still in its grasp.
Legend chased after it, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest and the burning of his lungs, squinting through the murk.
He could barely see anything, surprising since his transformation usually granted him much clearer underwater vision. But despite the gloom and barely-there streams of sunlight filtering through the water, Legend finally caught sight of two glowing eyes, and he couldn’t help but return the hiss the creature sent towards him.
It was hard to fully make out, but he could just barely see green scales and red fins, glowing eyes and grasping claws that were still clinging to Hyrule, the traveler struggling weakly in their clutches as he tried desperately to escape.
A Zora. The corrupted version that lived in his and Hyrule’s lands.
...Obviously a long way from home, considering they were in Four’s era.
Legend swung his sword as the Zora abruptly released Hyrule and charged at him, eyes blazing. A shrill screech gurgled outwards, and Legend pinned his webbed ears back at the noise.
Claws slashed at his face and Legend reeled backwards, but he was satisfied to see a cut on the Zora’s chest. Black blood billowed through the water from both this and his earlier strike, and Legend was careful to avoid it as it spread, the dark cloud as black as ink.
This water was bad enough on its own— infected monster blood was the last thing he needed.
As if to remind him what he was swimming in, a sickening feeling abruptly swept through Legend, and he breathed in a shallow gasp. The taste of the water was all in his mouth, he could feel it and smell it and taste it and it was awful and Legend had to fight back the urge to be sick.
He gritted his teeth as his vision wavered a bit, coughing and fighting past the heaviness sinking into his limbs. Every breath he took he felt worse, every bit of water that rushed through his gills making his head grow thicker and limbs like lead.
If he was doing so badly, he could only imagine the state Hyrule was in, and hoped the traveler had managed to hold his breath so far.
If he hadn’t...
Legend shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that. He needed to finish this.
Now.
The Zora screeched, and Legend watched as it streaked towards him, green scales blending into the water. Legend twisted away from it as it lunged, swinging his sword around, but claws gouged into his side even as his weapon struck the monster.
His side screamed in pain as his muscles ached, his lungs were on fire, but Legend threw himself forwards anyway, plunging his sword right into the middle of the Zora.
The monster let out an earsplitting keening noise, thrashing to get away from Legend’s sword, but he held tight until its thrashing slowed, then stopped. The beast abruptly fell limp, beginning to sink before it exploded into purplish dust.
Legend didn’t stick around to watch, darting for where he could see Hyrule struggling to reach the surface.
Hyrule saw him approach and his eyes went wide, eyes darting over his tail and scales, webbed hands and gills. He tried to back away, but Legend held out a pleading hand towards him.
“It’s me,” Legend warbled, ignoring how it hurt to talk, and Hyrule stared at him another few moments, gaze softening as recognition lit up in his eyes.
Then he clutched at his throat, bubbles trailing up from his lips.
Legend didn’t hesitate any longer, noting the blood in the water wafting from Hyrule’s ankle. He slung the traveler’s arm over his shoulders, and Hyrule didn’t resist, clinging to his arm rather tightly, and he began to swim for the surface. The Zora had dragged them deep, nearly to the bottom, and it was quite a ways upwards to go.
Legend’s tail seemed unusually heavy as he swam, and he found himself slowing considerably, struggling to focus on his goal.
The sunlight above began to smear, a high-pitched whine ringing in his ears, and Legend desperately pumped his tail, fighting to get him and Hyrule out of the horrible water. But his tail had gone numb, and the ache of his muscles and the fire in his veins and throat and side and everywhere were too much.
He wasn’t going to make it.
Legend gritted his teeth, and put all his remaining energy into giving Hyrule one last desperate shove towards the surface, feeling a spark of hope as Hyrule’s head appeared to breach.
Then he felt himself begin to sink, too weak to keep himself going.
Legend looked through half-lidded eyes at the blood he knew was his, wafting around his tail and shimmering in the weak sunlight. Even the smallest of breaths hurt, lungs and gills aching with fire, and Legend‘s eyes slipped closed, despite how he resisted.
He didn’t want to die like this, or at all, really... but he was content that he’d at least saved Hyrule from a similar fate.
At least he won’t drown... Legend thought as pain and darkness overwhelmed him, and his world disappeared into shadow.
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swanmaids · 1 day
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the care and feeding of an elven high king
for @tolkienekphrasisweek day 2, culinary arts. remix of @welcomingdisaster 's a note on the pecularities... ao3 link. this is a fic about trauma-induced eating disorders.
Many in Gondolin, from the servants to the lords, will say that His Grace the king was never the same since his crossing of the treacherous Ice; that he was so changed by its horrors that he became almost a completely different man. It has become something of a cliche within our city to say that Turukano of Tirion died on the Grinding Ice, and Turgon of Beleriand was born in his place. 
As for myself, I have never seen the Blessed Realm or the long march to Beleriand, and so I can offer little insight into who His Grace may have been before he reached the shores of Vinyamar where my people joined with his host. But I have no reason to doubt the words of those who did know him then. And If I were to ask one of them: how did he change? They would probably provide me with a great list of examples. The way he speaks to his friends and his subjects and his daughter, the way he carries himself, the way he sleeps, the way he eats. 
The latter is the only example that I have any kind of authority to speak on, but I would hardly be surprised as to its accuracy. From what I have heard of the bounties of Aman, it seems truly impossible to me that anybody could be presented with the spoils of the Great Hunter, the King of the Seas and the Sisters of the Earth, and still maintain the same austere diet that His Grace tasks me with preparing these days. 
Just how austere is that diet? His Grace has almost too many rules concerning what he will not consume for one to keep up with - and he is wont to change them on a moment’s basis - but over the centuries I believe he and I have come close to an understanding. 
First and foremost, His Grace will eat no meat nor fish, and requires that all of his meals be prepared separately from any meat or fish in the royal kitchens. He claims that even the smell and sight of it turns his stomach; and I am inclined to believe this, having witnessed myself an incident in which, when seated next to Her Grace the princess Aredhel while she ate a dish of venison, his skin turned clammy and his hands visibly shook. He did not even attempt to pick up his utensils, and left the table with his own plate totally untouched. 
Regarding what may have resulted in this particular peculiarity, I want to be clear that I have no wish to comment on the rumours surrounding what may or may not have occurred among the Noldor as they fought to survive the Ice. His Grace is a fair and just king, who treats his subjects of every station well, and has suffered a great many tragedies since the Noldor fled Aman. There is nothing to be gained by spreading salacious rumours that would only harm his good name. 
Let us instead return to my original topic. Meat and fish are not the only foods that His Grace refuses to eat - he would not be so unusual here in Gondolin if they were, though his aversion is stronger than most. Instead, His Grace is greatly concerned with only consuming that which he does not consider to be “unclean”, seemingly concerned that such “impure” foods will cause his person to become unclean from within. In practice, this has resulted in an aversion to milk, eggs, butter, yoghurt and cheeses, oils, sweets, pastries, many strong-tasting roots and spices, and excessive salt. His Grace despises appearing intoxicated in front of others, and will drink only a small amount of watered wine on special occasions. Coffee, however, he consumes frequently and in great amounts. 
I will admit that it has not always been easy to cook according to such rigid restrictions, but I should like to think that over time and with hard work, I have been able to reach some workable solutions. His Grace tends to favour simple meals, typically steamed grains and vegetables such as winter squash. Nuts are often eaten, and I try to include them in as many meals as possible for the extra energy they provide. Though His Grace eschews sweets, as previously mentioned, he is able to enjoy most fruits, and a dish of pears poached in almond milk is a favourite. This is quite doable, as the soils of Tumladen provide us with a rich bounty of fruits. If nothing else, the lembas baked by Her Grace the princess Idril is of course suitable, but I try to avoid this as much as possible as His Grace is wont to become agitated over the state of the city’s lembas stores. Yes - Gondolin may well be the fairest and most wondrous of all the elven realms, and the greatest work of His Grace’s hands, but the king’s table is one place where extravagance is firmly eschewed. 
I aim too to plan meals well in advance, for His Grace is known to ask me what I have planned for him to eat in the near future, and to become visibly unhappy if I cannot answer. 
As much as I can, I endeavour to serve His Grace within his private chambers,  with his daughter and his closest lords at most as guests, as he greatly dislikes eating in front of others. However, a king must, on occasion, feast with his subjects. During such feasts, His Grace has become very adept at performing the appearance of eating for his audience, while in reality consuming little to nothing. It is likely that I am one of very few citizens who has noticed this. Still, I do my best to help His Grace on such occasions. After last years’ Tarnin Austa , I sent a kitchen maid to His Grace’s chambers with a plate of figs and walnuts, so that he would not go to bed hungry. Finally, it is worth noting that His Grace’s particular anxieties regarding food and its consumption are not fixed, and are wont to wax and wane in severity. When the Eagle came to Gondolin and told us to prepare ourselves for an assault on our enemy, this goal seemed to energise His Grace and loosen the hold of some of his anxieties - I was even able to prepare small amounts of eggs and dairy to supplement his training at arms, as long as it was hidden within porridges and broths. But during times of tragedy, His Grace is known to become even more restrictive, to the point of what seems like self-punishment. For instance, in the aftermath of the horrible killing of Her Grace his sister, he undertook a weeks-long fast that left him exhausted and skeletal, spreading rumours and fear among the whole population. In the days after his return from the Fifth Battle, it was only due to his daughter pleading with him not to fast again that His Grace did not repeat this disastrous ritual.
Please do not mistake me here, however - Her Grace the princess Idril is quite often just as difficult to cook for as her father. In fact, if I were to describe her own peculiarities, we might be here all day.
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the-one-who-lambs · 24 hours
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God. I am so consistently in awe of how different the ideas people have of narilamb are, and how many different varieties of dynamics people have come up with that ALL hold up because of how wide open this ship is. There's so much to unpack with what little we do have of these characters in canon and yet we've seen/made a multitude of incredible stories and there are so many yet to be told. Genuinely, I love it when I share headcanons with people, but I also LOVE seeing completely different concepts. What did massive monster + fanartists + fic writers fucking put in these characters to make this ship work so fucking well.
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yuri-is-online · 1 day
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After reading a translation by Yuu Rei on twitter, I’ve been thinking about Book 7 and how this could potentially end. I know there’s been a lot of discussion of how this may need to be ended with a peaceful resolution since Malleus is so powerful and/or Idia’s plan is looking too much like Henrik’s very successful take down of Maleanor. Personally, I actually want to see Idia’s plan succeed to a degree and think it would be fun to defend why.
I’ll link it for reference here if you want to read the thread too: https://x.com/yuurei20/status/1672514883215331328?s=46
1. I personally would find it narratively fitting. History repeats itself when no one learns from it, and it was a previously mentioned lore tidbit that fae history is not well known among humans. And let’s be honest, anything that does exist on the human side for history would not be completely truthful on what happened with Maleanor if her fate is even mentioned. There has also been a lot of buildup with how overblots are dangerous to the health/wellbeing of the overblotter, and using Malleus to pay it off would both parallel Maleanor’s fate and nerf him for Book 8. A necessary action in order for the plot to not be immediately solved by Malleus’s ridiculous might.
2. I think it works with Malleus’s portrayal so far. He does have his good moments and traits, but I haven’t forgotten his tendencies to steamroll the opinions and perspectives of others. Take the Spectral Soirée for example, when Malleus decides to freeze time and kidnap a significant part of the student body simply because he sees himself in the lonely ghosts. No concern whatsoever for harm to his classmates or how it would look for an entire chunk of the student body to suddenly go missing. Or his dorm uniform vignette, where Malleus remains stubbornly insistent that it is the fault of the other housewardens or circumstance that he does not attend the meetings despite very reasonable measures to remind him having already been taken. Followed by a complete disregard for what’s polite/acceptable by summoning the other housewardens using magic reserved for objects because he doesn’t want to miss another meeting. The point I’m making here is that a massive rebellion like Idia gathering up his peers may be what it takes to get through to Malleus that what he is doing is not acceptable behavior just because he was afraid of Lilia leaving and didn’t want to be alone.
3. The last two books set a precedent for the shift from teaming up with solely the current and previous dorm to defeat an overblot to joining forces with students across various dorms. Combining that with the opportunity to build characters further by showing the NRC boys being capable of working together it would make sense for the big overblot battle to involve the other cast members like Idia’s plan intends to.
But I’m also kind of Malleus hater so take it all with a grain of salt. - 🦐
I am also kind of a Mallues hater and think his relationship with Yuu kind of gets overplayed by the fandom to an annoying extent at the cost of the character development and friendship of all other characters in the game by the English speaking fandom. In fic anyway, in game I appreciate him for what he is specifically for reasons like this, he's an interesting character.
I sort of disagree about Idia's plan looking too much like Henrik's take down of Maleanor. It might look like that on the surface to a fae who was there at the time but there is a big difference between Maleanor defending her territory and her child and the temper tantrum Malleus is throwing. To compare the two is disingenuous at best, which is why it is so narratively fitting that they might go down the same way.
I sort of get the sense that what happened is lost history because the fae eventually destroyed the human kingdom/ the kingdom destroyed itself. There is a reason Silver is an orphan and the fae keep to themselves. In a way Briar Valley seems sort of bad at history education? Which makes sense in a weird way, if you don't reproduce often and everyone lives for an age you sort of just expect to remember things and you don't always think to explain important stuff to kids. The point about needing to nerf Malleus for Book 8 is such a good fucking take I would be so surprised if the health complications angle didn't come up. I wonder if the consequences are worse for fae due to them being made of magic?
Malleus does seem to understand that his power is great and that it is meant to be used to bring people happiness... he just does not seem to see other people as. Well. People nor does he seem to understand the concept of dreams. In a way the ideals of someone like Azul are completely foreign to him because he's never had to work to be good at anything he's needed to do. Sure he might like learning to do mundane things like use a washer and dryer, but he doesn't need to do it and that's the only reason why he likes it. If he had to do it every day he would find that exhausting so yes, this plan does seem like the only way to get through to Malleus. He needs to realize he is treating people not like his subjects but his toys, just because Sebek is ok with that doesn't mean everyone else is.
Agree. I feel like the real threat in Twisted Wonderland, whatever it is, will need every student to work together in order to face it and not just a handful of students from one or two dorms. We still need to find out what's up with Grim and Crowley... and RSA if we're lucky!
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margoshansons · 2 years
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He’d sworn his vows to her then, kneeling against the green silk of her skirts, head pressing into her hip. Her own hands had found themselves entangled in the hair at the base of his neck, her touch cool and soothing against the heat that had been building in his blood the entire night until he’d released it all on Lonmouth. But that was all the two of them would ever have.
Because We Are Doomed ( An Alicole Fic )
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crossbackpoke-check · 3 months
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it’s all the rest of what i want with you
connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k
Summary:
“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”
“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.
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in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!
#OFFICIAL FIC ANNOUNCEMENT 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️ i wish i had pretty fic graphics but alas i have No Skill and also. so much work i should be doing bu#HI SHE’S HERE i would love to say this is a complete surprise drop except i have Anxiety & i needed to ask you guys about it beforehand#in my defense i started writing this in like. january far before any tragedy occurred#because square asked about my tags on their dewey2 art and she spawned like. a million more thoughts about it#including the part where i got absolutely kicked in the face with the lightning vision of those two lines.#like those two lines are the first actual lines of the fic i wrote ajdhkwdiowdjiw ANYWAY please be nice to me i know i am always like#‘this is not the first real fic i ever thought i’d post’ and if i had a nickel i’d have three but this is the first pwp i’ve ever posted#and it’s 8k and it’s not a fic for an exchange (although technically i did very much write this for the dewey^2 hivemind so.)#i have SO many things to say i have so many comments on this doc also i couldn’t pick a title for the LONGEST time and i finally decided on#this one but the full quote was too long:#all the rest of what i want with you that scares me shitless#so. i was angling SO hard to make a yung gravy lyric as a title bc i saw the video of him at a wild game but i couldn’t find a good one#and instead y’all got a very sentimental title l m a o.#liv in the replies#shout out to the extended universe this lives in and also my unhinged comments in the docs.#if you liked fun fuck a baby in him friday i’ll be here all week i promise i am the exact same in the comments as i am in the tags 🫡#the NUMBER of times i wrote something in this by pulling it out of my ass and then actually went back and did the research & was RIGHT is.#far too high. also the amount of coincidental things that dropped while i was writing this (yung gravy song about pregnancy AFTER i wheeze#laughed myself into a yung gravy title the athletic player poll confirming my restaurant & bar choices from googling ‘st. paul good bars’…)#also if anybody got advice on formatting for these little announcements. help. this is different from my miro/luka one &i’m still not happy
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greenerteacups · 2 months
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What do you think as Hermione's career would be post battle of Hogwarts? To me her being minister for magic really doesn't make sense. She does not have patience or tact to wade through murky waters of politics 😭😭
So hard to say! The Trio are so, so young when we leave them, I find it almost impossible to project their futures farther than a few years out. The job that suited me at 17 would be radically unsuited to me now. That's why of all the Trio, Ron's ending strikes me as the most realistic — he jumps straight into the save-the-world business again, burns out, realizes he's actually Done The Fuck Enough, Thanks, and pivots into a low-stress career where he gets to see his family a lot. Feels accurate! The others are weirder to me because they do seem to just... pick a lane and stay there.
With Hermione, you could spin her a couple ways. You could say that she leans into her bookish side and does research or teaching, which is not my preference for a couple reasons (namely, I don't think Hermione would like academia as a profession; she finds her classwork interesting and enjoys intellectual validation, but she'd be stifled and wasted in a DPhil program, and she'd be infuriated by the administrative politicking of your average higher-ed faculty). You could say that she gets disaffected with politics and ends up as a barrister or a lobbyist of some kind, but if anything that requires more political finesse, because you don't actually have institutional power, you're just handling the people who make decisions and trying to persuade them of your goals. This is not Hermione's preferred method of influence. She's not even particularly good at persuasion, she just happens to be smart enough (and right often enough) that people take her ideas seriously.
Or you could say her brashness fades with the years into a softened flavor of tell-you-like-it-is honesty, which some politicians actually do successfully trade on; as we see in British politics today, you don't have to be all that charming or clever to get ahead, you just need to be really driven and well-connected (which Hermione completely is; she fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the first postwar Minister and her bestie, the Literal Messiah, runs the Auror Office.) But I don't know if Hermione especially wants to be Minister, after the war. She's just watched years of horrendous bureaucratic incompetence plunge the country into a violent civil conflict. She's had not one, but two Ministers of Magic try to bully or shame her friends into complicity with fascism. Her view of government is... likely extremely dark.
But Hermione also isn't the kind of person who sees her life as a quest for happiness. Babygirl has a savior complex that makes Harry look selfish. (She basically kills her parents — yeah, obliviating is a form of murder, #changemymind — "for their own good," and justifies every batshit, vindictive, mean-spirited move she ever pulls on the grounds that it "helps" one of her friends.) She is a mean, lean, dragon-slaying machine, and she needs a dragon. After Voldemort, the Ministry is the no. 1 threat to muggle-borns and non-wizarding Beings. As a war heroine with basically infinite political capital, I'd be surprised if she didn't try to do something there. That said, Hermione is so vivacious and dynamic that she could potentially grow in a hundred different directions; it's possible that all of this, while true of her at 18, becomes completely inaccurate by 22. That's why I'm not too fussed about any particular fanon interpretation.
#greenteacup asks#sidebar: I know Minister “of” Magic is an Americanism but mea culpa#Someday I might actually bite it and pay someone to britpick Lionheart but I can't do it now#because I have a ban on editing published fic unless it's finished. Otherwise I'll never get around to writing the actual ending#I have a Process#is it the best process? likely not! but it makes the words go. so here we are.#I also think the fact that JKR is Gen X makes a difference here. careers worked differently in the 80s and 90s than they do now#i.e. we have the gig economy and a lot more mobility and EXPECTATION of mobility in your early life#that means career changes & professional pivots through your 20s and 30s are increasingly normal#and in fact have always been normal — but the image of the 'true' or 'ideal' career has changed#so we look at those careers and go hm. really? none of them changed?#none of them even went to uni? do wizards... just not?#but again. I believe the epilogue was written almost completely without consideration as to what happened between the BOH and then#I really believe that JKR did not know what happened to Harry except a wedding and 3 kids. because that was the whole point#I don't think she even knew what his career was when she wrote that scene#It existed to marry everyone off and do a quick munchkin headcount#because of the understandable temptation as an author to keep your hand on the wheel. but it didn't even matter!#the epilogue changed NOTHING! it was the most useless chapter in the series! I just — GOD#you can absolutely accuse me of being sour grapes about my ships getting nixed. I AM sour grapes. I AM a hater.#AND I have plot/theme/craft reasons for disliking it.#I'm not objective. I just want credit for being a sophisticated hater. my grapes may be sour but they're still artisinal.
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dungeonpuppykai · 5 months
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Ex-Marine!Curtis and his pouty mouthy spoilt brat gf!Reader;
The man is so tired.
Because the house resembles an animal shelter more and more everyday.
But that doesn't stop you.
It's not your fault though.
If anything, he's to blame since he always caves in.
"NO!" Curtis' eyes flutter close momentarily as you brattily swat his held out hand away from your position on the ground.
"Princess..."
"I am NOT leaving without Timmy!" You refuse to look at your stern boyfriend because you know you'll falter if you do.
"Y/n." You turn your back to his tattooed hand that he attempts to hold out for you once more, pouting as you crouch on the ground of the alley next to the old dresser that your brand new friend Timmy -a stray puppy- had hidden itself in.
"No! Get away, ugh! Can't you see?! You're scaring him, Daddy!" Curtis sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as you reach into the dresser to look for the animal.
The man has contemplated to look into whether he could buy some tetanus shots for the home first-aid kit due to your rather frequent rescue missions.
But he would sooner go back to war than let you bring home yet another animal that you found on the road on one of your evening walks that was a routine with him.
Enough was enough.
"I am going to count to 3." You pout as you stubbornly keep searching for the puppy.
"Ugh, Daddy! Why can't you understand?!" You cry out dramatically, causing the man to roll his eyes inwardly. "I'll DIE if I leave Timmy here!"
"Alright, that's it." Curtis speaks more to himself as he reaches out for you only to have you squeal and try to crawl away but in vain.
Your boyfriend's rough fingers have already found their way to one of your ankles.
It is both crazy and hot (not that you would agree right now since you are mad at him) how easily he can handle your body like you don't weigh anything.
Curtis turns a deaf ear to your protests, whines, threats and screams as he hooks your leg over his shoulder, silently making his way out of the alley and towards your house.
All while you have no choice but to hang upside down your boyfriend's giant body by one of your ankles.
Punishment is in order.
Curtis will show you.
Just because he spoils doesn't mean he can't discipline.
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kiwichaeng · 5 months
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WIP Wednesday
Thank you for the tags @heartstringsduet @lemonlyman-dotcom @fallout-mars @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad <33
“Are you going to hover over me the entire night? Am I going to find you looking down at me at 3 am?” Carlos’ tone is light as he finishes sits down heavily on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t hide the wince as well as he thinks. TK remains quiet in the corner.  Carlos looks up when he doesn’t get a response. He tilts his head and looks at TK curiously.  “What are you doing all the way over there? I know you don’t need to sleep but I would feel better if you didn’t stare at me from the corner the entire night.” TK knows it’s in good faith, that they’ve come leaps and bounds since they met and if nothing else else, the humour in Carlos’ eyes would give it away but tonight, all TK can do is play back the evening’s event in his mind over and over.  He knows Carlos has noticed it. He had kept on shooting glances at TK the entire time at the hospital as he was being treated to the point where the doctor had asked him if he was looking for someone.   The white bandages peaks out from under Carlos’ collar and TK’s eyes are fixed on them like a moth to a flame.  This is on him, that he got someone as good as Carlos tangled up in his mess. He should never have followed him home, never forced him into helping and should have— He should never have gotten attached.   “I have to go. You should too,” TK murmurs in the quiet room and made for the door. He doesn’t look at Carlos once as he slipped out of the room. “What— TK wait,” He can hear the confusion in Carlos’ voice turn into panic. “Where are you going?”  With a heavy heart, TK ignores the calls and keeps walking straight ahead down the empty hallway.  “TK,” Carlos whispers loudly from behind him but TK doesn’t turn back. It is only when he hears a sharp inhale and a wince does he stop.
open tag and no pressure tags under the cut <3
@liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader @orchidscript @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @paperstorm @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @ladytessa74 @three-drink-amy @chicgeekgirl89 @theghostofashton @redshirt2
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hekateinhell · 11 months
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#VCKinkWeek, Day 4: Pet Play
I was hoping to have this one (and another) done for kink week but real life has been happening and I don't want to phone it in, so here's a 2k snippet of my Lestat/Armand pet play fic for now — just something sweet and lighthearted! 💖
“You do look like a prissy cat, you know.”
“A what?” The look on Armand’s face was comical, his large eyes widening even more, the corners of his mouth tugging down further in annoyance — truly the very image of a disgruntled feline. 
Lestat couldn’t help it, he never could. Loud, rancorous laughter burst out of him, the kind that had him putting a hand over his chest to emphasize the melodrama of the moment, the kind that brought blood tears to his eyes. “A bothered petit pussycat, like some unlucky fool has just tossed you into the bath.”
Armand’s eyebrows shot up, his lips starting to twitch with poorly suppressed mirth. He seemed more entertained by the spectacle Lestat made rather than the actual words coming out of his mouth. 
“Is that right?” Armand settled himself on the velvet settee beside him, the proud tilt of his head making something in the region of Lestat’s chest clench painfully. 
What a princeling still, strong and poised, after everything he had endured.
“Yes,” Lestat’s laughter faded now and he quickly passed a hand over his face to dispose of any remaining evidence of the earlier display.
“Yes,” he continued, throat constricting with emotion, “If you were mon petit chaton, I would adorn you with the most luxurious collar money could buy. I would bathe you every night and feed you out of the palm of my hand, tender little thing that you are. I would have you in my coat pocket everywhere I go, and I would once never let you out of my sight. I would gather you to my chest at dawn each night and hold you there tightly until the sunset. You would be my most beloved pet, my most cherished possession.” 
Lestat ended abruptly then, breathless and acutely aware how every sentence he'd just uttered was paramount to a holy confession, a wretched love letter. He couldn't bear to look at Armand, to see the little demon feign surprise at Lestat's affection for him when it had been penned in at least five different novels for the entire world to see. 
And if Armand laughed, presumed it was merely the joke of an overly theatrical buffoon? Well, that would be the worst of all, wouldn't it? 
Oh Lestat, such pretty, hollow words from a monster’s mouth. 
Armand shifted closer, his deceptively delicate hand coming to rest over Lestat’s much larger one, the metal of their gold rings clinking together as he leaned fully against Lestat’s shoulder, 
I would let you, if that is what your heart desires. Whatever may please our king, of course. 
More than the slightest hint of sarcasm evident in Armand��s telepathic communications, and Armand must have felt him bristle because he pressed a little kiss to his collarbone, a crumb of sweetness to cleanse away the sting. 
Little Devil, Armand!
———
“Open it,” Lestat demanded with all the enthusiasm and intensity of a young child as he shoved the dark green velvet-covered rectangular box into Armand’s open hands. 
A rare moment when his youth truly shown through, the luminance of the hallway sconces catching onto the highlights in his golden curls as they bounced against his shoulders from a boyish excitement he could not contain. 
How sweet Lestat could be when he was in such a pleasant and playful mood. 
Bittersweet warmth bloomed through Armand’s chest at the sight, rising in his throat to temporarily restrict his vocal cords. He suppressed most of a smile as he collected his bearings, grounding himself by listening for the chaotic sounds of life just outside the heavy front doors of the Saint-Germain house. 
No need to indulge Lestat just yet. There would be time for that later. 
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, knowing the longer he drew out the moment, the more gratifying the reward would be later for the both of them.  
Lestat, always so impatient, shifted his weight from one foot to the other in a decidedly human fashion.
No response as his large gray eyes darted restlessly from Armand’s carefully composed face to complete an extremely unnecessary inventory of the priceless paintings that decorated the entry area of the mansion and back again. The nervous, primal energy he had never quite been able to shed for any significant duration of time exhibiting itself for all to see. 
‘All’ presently meaning Armand. A rare occasion to be the only inhabitant of his own home over the past week — a blessing and curse. Until Lestat had arrived. 
“Nothing’s changed since you were last here,” Armand promised, placing a gentle hand on Lestat's forearm, brushing over the downy blond hairs repeatedly as though he meant to soothe an overstimulated animal. 
A puppy, perhaps. 
Maybe that’s why Lestat loved them so… After all, how often do we love other creatures at least in part for the aspects of ourselves which we see in them?
Lestat nodded in response, his throat making an audible click that Armand relished, the hunter in him thrilling at the giveaway of an easy mark in his midst.
A large hand came to brush against his rounded cheek, the invitation too great to resist, Lestat’s darker skin so warm and radiant from the fresh kill. Armand couldn’t help but to turn his face to nuzzle into his palm, chasing the sensation as if he could do away with the barriers of the flesh that separated them from each other. 
“If you think I am a dog, then you surely must be a kitten,” Lestat murmured, appearing every bit as serious as a scientist reporting his findings to a jury of his peers. “And what divine timing that I discover this now,” he continued, nudging the box still unopened in Armand’s other hand. “Must I beg?” he gestured widely, every ounce the dramatic Leilo on the stage he had once been. 
“It would do you well to beg me more often, Lestat,” Armand couldn’t resist a final provocation before he relented, stepping back for space to undo the little gold clasp at the front and pull back the cushioned lid. 
It’s a thin band of rigid emerald velvet, the circumference greater than that of a wrist but smaller than a waist, and directly in the middle lay an ornate square-cut gemstone of a similar color framed in a border of gold crusted with small diamonds. A single little golden bell clipped to the center of the band below the emerald. 
Certainly not… Armand furrowed his brow even as his lips curved upwards, betraying himself once again. Lestat wouldn’t be that presumptuous. Oh, but he would — if anyone would. 
There’s no mistaking the object in question. 
“A collar, Lestat? You would have me be your pet, in all seriousness?” Impossible to ignore the thrill that ran electric throughout his veins at hearing himself say the words, at seeing Lestat’s mouth drop open just enough to barely expose the very tips of his fangs, pupils dilating as his dead pulse quickened in response. 
“In all seriousness, yes,” he whispered, his stare piercing in its intensity as he reached forward to push back Armand’s auburn hair from his shoulders before gently rubbing his index and middle fingers over the slight swell of his adam’s apple where a collar would rest. “May I?” 
A formality, he must know that. How could Armand ever hope to deny him in this state? Open and yielding and giving, a merciful rainstorm after a long, savage drought. How many times had Armand fantasized over the centuries of having Lestat’s attention just so? 
“Of course,” his voice sounded small to his own ears but no matter, let Lestat think that was his original intent. He cast his long lashes down, knowing what an artfully deceptive picture of submission he made with the playful shadows over his cheekbones, head bowed ever so slightly: a perfectly trained pet ready to receive its master. Claws retracted and hidden for the time being. 
“My, my, aren’t you the sweetest of kittens?” Lestat’s speech held the tone of abject reverence as his fingers brushed against the back of Armand’s neck to fasten the collar into place. Armand imagined that he trembled as the band nestled snugly over his skin; the room shimmering in tones of yellow and rose, his senses crossing they often wont to in the formidable arousal of the moment. 
Armand’s entire world boiling down — as it so often did — to Lestat. His touch, the gray of his iridescent eyes that brought to mind a windswept beach on a stormy night, the hypnotic call of his powerful blood, unmistakable in its scent, made Armand’s mouth ache with thirst. The sound of Armand’s own drumming heart and the aroma of Lestat not a hair's breadth away crossing in his mind, drowning out whatever words the man was uttering now. 
“Armand… Armand… there he is, there is mon petit chaton.” Lestat was smiling, the little crinkles that formed around his eyes whenever he did something so human, his mouth still moving, making the same shapes over and over again.
Armand shook his head, hoping too late Lestat wouldn’t interpret the gesture as being directed at him.
It seemed ridiculously comical all of a sudden, standing here in the foyer of his home, spellbound into silence by having Lestat in front of him, seemingly proposing they play a game Armand didn’t fully grasp, in spite of him recalling the thought he had dropped into Lestat’s mind a couple of weeks prior: I would let you, if that is what your heart desires.
They’re at the precipice of something, a notion somehow too foreign and too familiar at the same time.
Lestat’s eyes darting towards the staircase and back to Armand’s face, awaiting an invitation that even he wasn’t bold enough to presume was his for the taking. His hands dropped back to his sides, the tissue paper in the boutique bag he still carried at his elbow rustled with the movement. 
“What else do you have in there, Lestat?” Without waiting for a reply, Armand offered him his most beatific smile, holding out his hand and gesturing him closer as though Armand were the one persuading a feral cat.
Lestat exhaled, a look not unlike relief brightening his features as he followed Armand up the narrow staircase to the bedchambers. “Ah, but curiosity killed the cat!” He clapped his hands, clearly pushing past whatever reserve he’d had. 
“Yes, yes, so I have heard.” Every step Armand took made the tiny bell at his throat jingle, a soundtrack to the fantasy. 
“You didn’t let me finish, mon chéri…” Lestat’s hand solid at Armand’s lower back, his breath cool over the shell of his ear. “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”
hope you enjoyed! trust me, the full version will be E rated! 💖
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scionshtola · 7 months
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with certainty
summary: Corisande was forced to heal her own injuries following their battle in Cape Westwind. Y'shtola is none too impressed with the job they did. pairing: Corisande Ymir/Y'shtola Rhul (pre-relationship) word count: 1666 | read on ao3 notes: everything about healing in here i made up. and supplemented with things i saw on grey's anatomy. sorry in advance. and spoilers for the end of ARR. [divider credit]
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Behind Corisande, Castrum Meridianum loomed in the distance, the glow of its shields bright against the night sky. Before them, the Alliance troops prepared for the next phase of Operation Archon, spurred on by their successes at the other Garlean outposts thus far. Corisande watched them work, running here and there, voices blending with the sounds of weapons being tended.
If all went well, the troops in front of her would engage the Garlean forces outside while Corisande snuck into the stronghold and disabled its magitek shield generator. If it did not go well, if Corisande let down all of the brave people before her, those willing to risk their lives on the misplaced hope that she succeeded—
They shut their eyes, pushing the thought away. There was always a way for things to go wrong. Now was not the time to dwell on the possibilities.
“Ah, there is our Warrior of Light.”
Searing hot metal closed over Corisande’s wrist. Rhitahtyn sas Arvina stood over them, yanked the chain that linked them and sent them stumbling toward him. She dug her heels into the ground, struggling for purchase in the mud and the grass, churned together by his relentless attacks. It was no use. He was far bigger than them, far more prepared for battle in close quarters, and the manacle on their wrist was blisteringly hot. Pain greater than any they had ever felt before radiated through their arm. She needed distance, needed time to cast, needed her hands free—
“Corisande,” he sneered down at her. Around them, the battlefield was ablaze, flames licking their body as they continued to struggle. She aimed her grimoire at his head, tried to shove him away, anything to create the time and space to cast a spell. If I can just summon Titan… “Are you well?”
They blinked, and the flames receded. The manacle fell from their wrist, leaving behind a phantom pain, as if their skin had been scalded all over again—but it did not truly hurt, not anymore. They had made sure of it.
“Corisande?” Y’shtola’s voice broke through the haze of imagined pain. Where Rhitahtyn towered over her a moment ago, Y’shtola stood peering up at her, her fingers wrapped loosely around their wrist.
“I’m fine,” they answered, and tried to cover the suspiciously quick response with a smile. She tugged her arm free, the tips of Y’shtola’s fingers trailing along the back of her hand, and let it fall to her side, fighting against the urge to cradle it protectively against her chest.
Unsurprisingly, Y’shtola did not seem convinced. She trained her gaze on them, unwavering, concern evident in her bright teal eyes, and reached for their arm again. She took it with a practiced hand, pushing their sleeve back to reveal the web of mottled scars encircling their wrist, a wide, morbid bracelet, the tendrils of which stretched across the back of their hand. 
“When did this happen?” Her touch was firm but gentle as she turned their arm over, examining the scarring from all sides. 
Corisande hesitated, reluctant to do or say anything that might distract from the next phase of the mission. Reluctant to relive the pain in the retelling of it. But she has kept little from Y’shtola in the course of their friendship and as much as she wished not to speak of it, she did not wish to hide it from her either. 
 “A few bells ago,” they finally admitted. “At Cape Westwind. I am afraid I got a little too close to my adversary.”
“A few bells...” Y’shtola prodded at the scars, her eyes narrowing when Corisande did not react. She turned their hand over and skimmed her fingers along the inside of their wrist, brushing the singed edges of what was left of their wrist wrappings. They had not found a moment to replace them since the battle, swept from one task to the next as they were.
“Pray, which healer is responsible for this remarkably poor work?” The sharpness of her words contrasted the gentle hold she kept on their arm. “I should like to have a word with them. A burn so deep as this one appears to have been would take hours to heal properly.”
Corisande would laugh, if it did not feel like so much work. If her skin did not itch, did not feel stretched taut over her bones, fragile and paper thin, at war with the ironic spark of warmth blooming in her chest. Still, that Y’shtola should take such immediate offense to the shoddy quality of care they received was enough to bring a small, fond smile to their face. If only they had someone else to blame. “I will keep that in mind for next time.”
Y’shtola’s eyes widened, gaze flicking between their face and their scar. “You healed yourself?” she asked, at once both incredulous and irritated. “Reforming the layers of skin, repairing the nerves, not to mention the debridement—the pain would have been excruciating. Even more so if not given time to rest between stages. Why did you not come to me?”
Corisande had hardly been able to take two steps after defeating Rhitahtyn, the pain had been so overwhelming. They had tried—one foot in front of the other, just until they reached the others, but they hardly knew where they were going, the pain blinding them to everything around them. Every step had jostled their arm, lightning bolts of pain emanating from their wrist. She’d held her arm to her chest, but every brush of her open wound against her clothes had set her wrist aflame all over again. It had been impossible to think straight.
They had only meant to heal it enough that they could think about something else. Anything else. But Y’shtola was right—the pain of healing had been excruciating, so much so she could hardly keep her eyes open to watch. But she had. She’d watched as the seared bits of her gloves fell from the wound, grit her teeth as the skin began to reform. They had meant to stop, meant to leave the rest until they could find a real healer—until they could find Y’shtola.
But they had never had much control over their healing, had always neglected the study of it for the more interesting act of summoning. She could hardly tell what she was doing, her own cries ringing in her ears, unwilling tears blurring her vision. It had been hard to see, so hard to think about anything but the pain—until there was no pain at all.
“I only meant to make it bearable,” Corisande answered, meeting Y’shtola’s gaze. Her expression flickered, melting from a borderline scowl into softer concern as she looked into their eyes. It lasted only a moment, and then she dropped her gaze to their wrist once more. She prodded at it with cool fingers, then pressed hard against their skin, almost a pinch, pursing her lips when Corisande gasped.
“‘Tis not the prettiest work, but your nerves are intact,” she said neutrally, and let their arm drop to their side.
“You could have just asked.” Corisande rubbed her wrist, though she could not quite hide her amusement at Y’shtola’s straightforward approach. In fact, she found something rather comforting in her lack of gentle bedside manner.
 “Had you proper knowledge of healing magicks, there would be far less scarring,” Y’shtola continued, as if Corisande had not spoken. “But we must make do with what talents we have on the battlefield. That you have healed is of greater import than the manner in which it was done.”
“Come to me should you need any further healing,” she added, in a tone that brooked no argument from Corisande, then narrowed her eyes at them. “But do not expect that I will let you get away with subpar healing forever. A mage of your skill should know how to properly heal themself.”
The laugh that Corisande had struggled to produce moments ago burst easily from her lips now. “I look forward to your lessons, Master Y’shtola.”
Y’shtola smiled, pleased, a touch of mischief in her eyes, and Corisande’s heart swelled with affection, an answering grin forming on their lips. Until Y’shtola’s eyes darted over their shoulder, at the fortress still looming over them, returning to the forefront of their mind all the worries that had fallen to the side when she had first touched them. 
“I would prefer that you rest, but there is still work to be done,” Y’shtola said, staring up at Castrum Meridianum with steel in her eyes. Corisande turned to face the fortress, and for a moment they stood side by side in silence, contemplating the task before them. One more step on the path to Eorzean liberation.
Y’shtola grasped Corisande’s hand. This time she did not look away when their eyes met, and instead returned their gaze with an assurance in her eye that calmed them. “I will see you when you return, Corisande,” she said, giving their hand a comforting squeeze before slipping away to resume her duties amongst the troops.
Corisande took one last look at the looming castrum and let the sound of the battle preparations taking place behind her wash over her. The fate of Eorzea, of everyone behind them, very likely rested on their shoulders. The thought was nearly enough to send them running for the forest they had come from. 
Instead, she turned toward the crowd of people working behind her. Cid was somewhere amongst them, beginning the preparations for the infiltration, and it was past time she sought him out to assist. 
They worked their way through the encampment, a certainty rising within them as they walked. Y’shtola was right—they would see each other again. They were as sure of it as Y’shtola seemed to be herself. 
And they found, suddenly, that they could bear anything, so long as they had that to hold on to.
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mondscheinprinzessin · 2 months
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Me the second something bad happens in my life or problems occur: I should make Aleksi suffer in my place and give him all the problems so his friends can care for him and it would be so prettily whumpable and hurt/comfort
Also me:... wait a minute so with Aleksi it's whump but with me it's totally fine and I am not giving myself the treatment I do with others?... That means I am allowed to rest? *surprised pikachu face*
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elvisabutler · 11 months
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“Ma’am.” He murmured as she looked over at him, her eyes widening just a hair seeing the look in his eyes. She was old enough to know that look and to have had men look at her in that certain sort of way but Elvis’s blue eyes raking over her form was something else entirely.
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"You don't think I notice you? You- In what world does the woman who told you she stuck her neck out and bullied multiple executives to have you cast not notice you.” Catherine moves closer to Elvis and finds herself with her chest heaving, almost offended at the notion he’s put forth. “I- Mr. Presley- I’ve noticed you since-” His hands inadvertently tighten their grip on her arms before he shakes his head and moves them down her arms and off of them before he clenches them into fists. “Don’t-” He shuts his eyes as his hands move to her hips. “Thought I told ya not to call me Mr. Presley now, we’re friends ain’t we? Can’t have you callin’ me that.” He can’t stand to hear it, something about hearing her say his name like a title feeling so goddamn wrong.
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yardsards · 1 year
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tfw one of your fav fics got added to a private/unrevealed collection so you can't view it anymore and you forgot to download it so you might never get to reread it again :(((
#eliot posts#why would you do that instead of orphaning it or making it anonymous??????#ughhh i always forget to download fics#at least it was just privated and not deleted so it might come back?#part of me wonders if it was actually an accident cuz sometimes how collections like that work can be confusing to authors#and i don't see the logic as to why someone would do that on purpose?#i wish i could ask why to get my curiosity satiated at least even if they don't end up making the fic public again#but i can't do that without like. commenting about it on one of their other fics. in a completely different fandom#and i'm not gonna do that cuz i reckon it'd just make the author real uncomfortable and i don't wanna do that#but like. it is gnawing at me nonetheless.#it appears to have only been privated for a week or two (after being available for several months prior)#so like hope is still very much there of it coming back#i once had a fic get straightup Deleted for months and the author disappear without a trace only for it to get reuploaded out of the blue#but yeah. reminder to dowload your fav fics! ao3 is not as permanent as you may think#god the fic was just. SUCH a good take on going no contact with an abusive parent and it delighted me to read#actually. i know it's a longshot but if any of my followers fastidiously download fics#do any of you have a copy of a toh fic called ''out of the blue'' abt amity and her family?#i would give you my firstborn for it#which means nothing considering i am not having any biological children but you know
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