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rarepears · 6 months

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Xin Mo woke up, at least as much as a sword could wake up. This was rather surprising to the sword, as it had spent thousands of years accumulating enough energy to become somewhat sapient, only for its first true life experience to be its destruction at the hands of its last wielder and his husband. New as it was to being an individual, Xin Mo felt surprisingly ambivalent about the event, especially since it currently seemed to not be destroyed at all.

With what little awareness a spiritual sword has, it was able to examine its surroundings and found them familiar. The cavern it was currently sitting in, blade sunken into the dark obsidian rock, was where it had rested for the centuries between its final wielder and the one who came before him. Checking its internal sense of time, Xin Mo found it to be somewhat out of tune, as it seemed to have moved a number of decades back into the past. It wasn’t bothered — it was a sword and not some simple mortal who had to deal with curses such as ageing and boredom — as it could use this time it had been granted to figure out what went wrong.

Xin Mo, before becoming aware, had taken a rather simple approach to its wielders. Like all beings of the Abyss, those who wielded it would always seek to become stronger than their enemies and to reproduce. Xin Mo merely helped them achieve those goals, pushing them along if necessary, and then eventually they’d push to far, and it would eat their soul in exchange. A fair deal for the power it granted, Xin Mo thought. Its last wielder though… he had been different. It had pushed him on the path each wielder eventually followed, but he had ultimately rejected it, and then destroyed it. Clearly a different approach was needed, Xin Mo decided with its newfound self-awareness.

Xin Mo waited patiently for its wielder, as the years went by. Perhaps its sense of time had been knocked off by its destruction and subsequent displacement through time, but it seemed as if he took longer to find it this time. It didn’t really matter to it at the time, but when his old wielder finally drew him from that dark cave, Xin Mo realised something was different. This wielder was similar to its former one… but not the same. This one was weaker, angrier, and without the driving hope and desire he had had before. As it lay in his hands while he took a rare break to rest his body, it took the opportunity to slip through his mind and memories.

The difference was clear almost immediately — this version of its wielder lacked love, the ever-present thoughts of his future husband absent. Well then, Xin Mo would just have to change that, to give its wielder a happy ending — and hopefully avoid its own fate of destruction.

(aka: Xin Mo transmigrates into PIDW and decides to make BingJiu canon)

What is this masterpiece and what is it doing in my ask of all places :0

I love this! I want more! The set up is SO GOOD. Xin Mo is going to drive Luo Binghe crazy... for Shen Jiu! It's great! There's nothing like a matchmaker that one can never escape from!

The fact that Xin Mo was lodged into a stone is giving me King Author vibes. Only the true wielder can pull it out of stone! And then Shen Jiu can be a pillow princess.

[More in #Xin Mo transmigrates into PIDW and decides to make BingJiu canon AU]

#svsss ideas #svsss #svsss au #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #scum villain's self saving system #rarepear recs #xin mo #shen jiu #Xin Mo transmigrates into PIDW and decides to make BingJiu canon AU

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acoraxia · 7 months

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Chained Memories AU

(Day 1 of Monkie Destiny Challenge Prompt Month Oct. 2023)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: Baigujing, in her final moments, remembers what was lost to her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

She’s tired.

She has no true name to her body, she has no real way of identifying herself when placed side by side with a decaying corpse—she’d call herself a phantom, nothing more, nothing less, and then with a shake of the head she’d change her mind and go for a more regal name. One fit for a person destined for greatness. For a world without pain or suffering, for one where the Heavens would be made anew and the Kings of the Underworld would carry on with helping the souls pass on in peace.

She called herself Baigujing.

Baigujing feels nothing to her soul. She has witnessed all the suffering of mortals and yao, the pain and heartache mothers and sons went through. It was loss upon loss, the feeling of stitches being pulled apart, a heart cut open and never allowed to heal itself. Yet, she felt nothing but a single pang across her chest before it dissolved into a breath of frost upon her lips. She felt nothing. She feels nothing and has come to terms that that’s how it would be for all her life.

Up until Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong is not meant to exist: he was born by chance, a single rock that was flicked off its pedestal by the wind, and everything that’s happened after his birth has been a hindrance to her plans. He’s found cradled in her arms, only a few years old with no true wisdom or knowledge yet, and she stares at him with eyes devoid of light and warmth. I’ll make you proud, Wukong tells her, I’ll show you I’ll be the greatest hero this world has ever seen, and she witnesses it first hand.

Baigujing wants to regret having taken the Great Sage Equal to Heaven under her wing, but she can’t. She falls in love with the hope Sun Wukong shouts to the Heavens, the brilliance of light that pushes him to be on top of the world, letting himself fall back down into her arms because he knows she’ll catch him. He’s an enigma, he’s not meant to exist—and yet she smiles despite herself, listening to him go off about how his name is no longer Shi Hou and it’s now Mei Houwang. How certain words are banned from his kingdom, how he looks at her with gleaming eyes of gold and light and asks, “Am I the greatest king you’ve met?”

And she answers, “Yes.”

Even when he swears death to her name, screams that he’ll kill her himself—she finds herself proud of everything he’s accomplished. She’s withered and weak, a mere memory of the terror she used to be a thousand years ago. She was meant to bring the world to its knees—she was meant to rebuild it all, make it perfect for everyone to thrive in. Make it perfect for them. And he shatters that ideal, brings it to pieces right in front of her, even though he cries and screams and weeps; he causes her heartache in one fell strike, he brings her to tears and causes her to break apart.

She remembers a time when he doubted himself. Doubted his place as a rightful king and great sage.

“Is it true? Am I not worthy of calling myself Qitian Dasheng?” Sun Wukong says when they gaze upon an empty banquet. The monkeys have all gone to sleep, the yao and creatures that accompanied them for wine and fruit and fresh cut meat sprawled on the floor of the cave. The youngest monkeys shiver and hiccup, huddling onto each other for warmth, though Wukong keeps his feet planted where they are. “The Jade Emperor—his people aren’t what I expected. I thought they’d welcome me. Am I not worthy of being respected for my achievements?”

Perhaps raising a child had changed her.

Wukong frowns, clenching his fists. “Azure was right. I’ll never be anything else than a weak-willed—” “Do not speak ill of the Handsome Monkey King, young man,” comes the quiet remark, and she takes in the way he startles and looks at her. “I’ve watched him grow from a young monkey into a wise scholar and, when his kingdom was in danger, he became a warrior for them. A soldier. A protector. And I will not have you sully his name because some nameless celestials gave you a bad day.”

Baigujing crosses the cave’s path, beginning to make her way towards the mansion that was found behind the walls of the waterfall. She waits for the sound of footsteps following her, but when they don’t come she stops and sighs.

“There will never be a time where you are unworthy of your name, Sun Wukong. You were gifted that name for a reason,” she says quietly, beckoning him closer with an extended hand. He hesitates, stepping over sleeping leopards and qilin, his steps a quiet crunch of stone against soft sand. She takes his hand once he’s closer and holds it. She knows she’s cold, she knows she cannot provide the same warmth he gives to his children and subjects—yet she speaks quietly and softly.

“Please understand, Sun Wukong, that though you are nothing the world asked for, you are everything the people need.” You are a weapon, you are a savior, you are many things, and I know you won’t fail me.

He always appears more human than she expects him to be. So he brings his body to hers, wraps his arms around her, and presses his cheek to her shoulder. It’s meant to be comforting. He’s meant to seek comfort from a mother made of cloth and paper, cold and unable to feed him, uncomfortable with all her sharp edges and hollow eyes. Yet he stays there all night, murmuring how he’ll show the gods that he is worth the title of a sage. That he’s going to be the most extraordinary being the Heavens have ever seen.

And she, with all her demon qualities, cannot bring herself to control him anymore. She cannot do this when she’s sure it would make him suffer. It would make him bleed and weep real tears of anguish.

He could be loyal.

Chained and leashed for her to use as her own.

She knows how easy it would be to manipulate him; she knows to what length a child will go to make their mothers happy.

So she leaves him.

She kisses the brow where his crown will rest on, tells him to sleep alongside his grandchildren and little suns, and stays with him until she’s certain he won’t wake when she moves. “Goodbye,” she whispers against his ear, breaking the silence of the cave. It’s safer this way. She cannot sacrifice her plans for him. She cannot change her destiny. She cannot make him change for her.

Sun Wukong deserved to keep his freedom.

And it breaks her heart to know he gave it all up for the ones who hated him the most. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“I’m tired,” she says with a shaky breath on her final day of life.

Or in other words, her last day of running from Sun Wukong.

Baigujing sees him from the corner of her eye. He’s gotten taller, brighter, and yet he looks battered and broken all the same. She left him in the hands of destiny, the sweet whispers that promised her justice and righteousness—and he looks so tired that it breaks her to pieces all over again. She pulls herself up, trying to sit more properly, but Wukong stops her. His hands are on her shoulders, eyes scanning her face, and he helps her sit against the wall. There’s cracks along the edges and her blood on stone.

It has not yet dried.

Wukong makes sure to rest her head carefully against the wall.

She’s not sure how she winds up sitting next to Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the very same soul she abandoned when he was only a boy to pursue a path that… led to nothing. Nothing at all. Only pain.

“Do you hate me?” she asks quietly. Her voice quivers and she doesn’t know why. Wukong won’t look at her.

“No,” he says.

“I did everything right,” Baigujing murmurs against the air. It’s as if the very essence of her soul is trying to get away from her. Abandon her. Leave her for dead. Her vision’s blurring and her cheek feels wet.

Though she doesn’t know why.

She says, “I found myself a champion. I made my army. I challenged Heaven. I tried to remake the world into something perfect and yet—” She takes in a sharp breath, unsure of herself. Her visions. Her calling. They’re replaced with the faint memory of tiny fingers running through her black hair, forming shapes of flowers and carefully decorated river streams. She sees herself holding a young infant, happy and waiting to see the sunrise, holding her hand as tight as possible, and breaks into pieces, mouth open to release a silent wail of regret.

She never got to see him grow.

She promised the world to him.

She swore she’d make storm clouds cry for him.

She made him clothes and carved pathways for him to choose what he wanted to do.

She watched him run with eager steps to a master who could teach him all the things she couldn’t and embraced him with open arms when he returned a scholar, a proper name to his unique soul, and kissed his head with glee over his proud achievements.

And she left him to die.

In all her selfish desires—Sun Wukong did not fit into her ideals. He was too powerful, too impulsive, too imperfect, too human for her to take him with her to destroy everything that was impure in her eyes. She wanted to start anew and forgot the faint fingerprints of tiny hands against her wrists that carried her through the years. So she cries now, because she cannot find the proper way to say she’s sorry.

“I lost Flower Fruit Mountain to a fire,” he says quietly. He doesn’t look at her either. Something soft brushes against her wrist. A flower.

It’s an illusion made of gold and ichor—yet she feels its warmth.

“The Samadhi Fire?” she rasps, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. As though something’s lodged in her throat. She gasps quietly, gulps down the little air she can muster, and tries to stay awake to hear her son’s tale.

“No. My—there was this Huntsman. Erlang Shen. He burnt down my mountain out of anger and,” Wukong breathes in sharply, exhaling that burst of air with a quiet sigh, “he made me his sworn brother. I’ve been with him in Heaven. I only left because…”

“Xiaotian.”

“Xiaotian,” he murmurs.

“His birth… I don’t know why I took him. I don’t know why I did it.” She closes her eyes, feels herself growing weaker. “I thought… if it were someone else. If it were someone that was made by Heaven’s wretched blood, I wouldn’t feel guilt. But he is so much like you, Wukong.” She thinks of bright smiles and golden-brown eyes staring at her, waiting for the words of appraisal. She thinks of tiny fingerprints against her arm, finding comfort to her side. “I hurt you both so much.”

“That’s not right,” Wukong croaks. She tries to open her eyes—but she can’t. She can’t see his expression, can’t tell what he’s thinking. She can only hear how his voice breaks right in front of her. And she can’t even hold him anymore. She’s too weak. “You left… and ruined a young boy’s life. You made him—me—us think we were only good for one thing. I searched for you. I missed you. I was found by someone who was too flawed to notice my suffering, I was dragged away by a soldier who would not hesitate to seal me away again—you left me.”

“I’m sorry.”

The world is quiet.

Her vision is white.

And then, she can open her eyes again.

It’s an empty void. It’s only them, standing opposite to each other, Wukong’s armor and red-eyes gone, the traces of the Samadhi Fire nowhere to be found on his body. Baigujing breathes. Her clothes are the ones she wore when she found him. White with traces of blue and lilac. Her hair is down, black rivers that have no end, the feeling of herself fading away strong with breath she takes.

She sighs, closing her eyes to savor the taste of life one more time, and says, “I told Xiaotian the road he’s chosen can only lead to one thing.” Baigujing looks at Sun Wukong. His eyes are filled with tears, hands and arms and body covered in scars that have not yet healed. His clothes are tattered, covered in smoke, and his fur burns with fire that could not be described by any words she knows. “Pain,” she breathes out, stepping closer to the boy she abandoned all those years ago.

She touches his cheek. Ice washes over him as he leans into her palm, eyes closed and tense, the fire fading away and turning into short, tiny tufts of light brown fur. He gets shorter, forces her to descend to her knees, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re a light shade of gold. Not yet made of a sun’s glow. She holds his face, bringing her other hand to touch it, and smiles shakily for the first time in years.

“But you can change that,” she sobs, smile widening when Wukong places his hands over hers. “Please, Wukong, take care of him before he thinks he’s undeserving of love.”

Wukong says nothing.

He steps forward, tiny hands coming to touch her face. He squishes her cheeks, curious yet firm, and, in the tiniest voice, says, “Goodbye mama.”

Baigujing smiles.

She brings him to a hug, squeezing him tightly, and with her final breath says, “Goodbye.”

#writers note #sun wukong #lmk lady bone demon #lmk sun wukong #Monkie Kid Chained Memories AU #my writing #UHM #ANYWAYS #POSES #chained memories au #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #THIS IS UH THE PROLOGUE YKNOW.... so we'll be going backwards #poses elegantly #alas #Monkie Destiny Challenge #❄️🌸#lady bone demon #this was supposed to be silly and yet here i am yknow idk im just sitting here guys

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gaymaramada · 10 months

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Got @weirdozjunkary ‘s STH + PIB AU on the brain so have some sonadow angst :)

Sonic watched in fascinated horror as the words etched themselves onto the map — this was it. He was so close. Just a few words and this would all be over.

“Star light, star bright,” He would have his lives back. He would be safe from the jackal.

“First star I see tonight,” Everything would go back to the way it was. He wouldn’t be scared anymore… right? All he needed was to make this wish.

“I wish—”

“I can’t believe I fell for it again.”

The voice made the hedgehog jump, and he whipped around half expecting to see a blind eye and two razor-sharp sickles — instead, he saw a familiar striped hedgehog scowling at him from the edge of the star with a little orange fox by his side. Somehow, that was worse.

“Shadow,” He started, only to falter because what could he even say? Every predetermined moral he had was screaming at him that this was wrong, but it was hard to focus on that when his blood was racing through his veins as his heart thundered in his chest. His eyes flitted back and forth between him and the map, its luminescent text drawing him in, “Y-you don’t understand—”

“Don’t understand what?” Shadow spat, his barely-contained anger filtering through his voice as he stalked over to the hedgehog, “That you’ve been playing me this whole time?”

“I need this wish,” Sonic’s hands were shaking — he felt so small like this, cowering away from his rival like some scared little kid. He held the map in front of him like a shield, hiding from those judging eyes that twisted at his heart and head. He needed this. He needed this, Shadow couldn’t understand.

He wasn’t sure, though, who he was trying to convince anymore.

“Do you, now?” Shadow drawled, his lip curling into a sneer, “Your life just isn’t enough? Not up to your standards? No, Sonic the Hedgehog deserves more.”

Sonic felt dizzy as he frantically looked back and forth between Shadow and the map. Shadow stepped closer, sarcastic disgust dripping from his tongue, “It’s not enough to just be a hero, adored by thousands, trusted by thousands.”

Suddenly, the map disappeared from his view, and Sonic looked up to see it grasped within Shadow’s hand, held behind him as he jabbed a finger into Sonic’s chest — his voice rose into a growl as he trapped Sonic in his gaze, eyes like daggers as they bore into him, “It’s not enough for him to have people he knows he can trust in return, is it?”

And then, for the first time since he’d arrived, Sonic looked at Shadow — really looked at him. His nostrils flared as he stared him down, ears flat against his head and teeth bared like a predator about to pounce. He was furious, more so than the hedgehog had ever seen him, but there was something else there that made him stall, evident in the slight twitching of his brows, the way his chest heaved as if he’d just run a marathon, the subtle shakiness of his hand as it clenched around the map like he wanted to crush it — somewhere in those crimson eyes that held so much fury was a genuine pain that he’d only seen him direct his way once.

To have people he knows he can trust… Sonic let out a breath as his posture sagged, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. He must have been making a face because Shadow abruptly pulled back, huffing as he glanced down at the map in his hand, “… Yet you’re still running. Still the same ‘Sonic the Hedgehog’ you’ve always been.”

“But I’m not!” Sonic burst, startling himself with the suddenness of it, “I’m not Sonic the Hedgehog! I… I-I’m…”

He coughed out a sigh, shoulders going slack as he caved in, catching Shadow’s eyes and admitting, “I’m on my last life.”

To his surprise, Shadow drew back a bit, blinking as his eyes widened and his scowl dropped. Sonic took it as an opportunity, needing him to understand, “I need to get my lives back, Shadow. Without them, I’m not… I’m not…”

“Not what?” Shadow clipped, “The legend?”

Sonic’s stomach dropped, curling into himself without even realizing it. He wanted to deny it, to correct him somehow, to shake him by his shoulders and scream I’m being chased by the freaking Grim Reaper, but when he opened his mouth, the words wouldn’t come.

Shadow waited for a beat, and Sonic prepared himself for another barrage of insults to come his way. Instead, Shadow just sighed, crossing his arms and shaking his head as disappointment fell off his tongue, “… I truly expected more from you.”

He spared another glance at the map, eyes flitting up to meet Sonic’s before he dropped it at his feet. Sonic all but scrambled for it, falling to his knees and gripping it to his chest. Shadow scoffed above him, and Sonic shrunk under his gaze as he spoke, “Go on, then; get your lives back.”

He leaned down a bit to meet his eyes, those crimson flames making Sonic feel like absolute slime, “Just do us both a favor and keep them out of mine.”

With that, Shadow turned on his heel and stalked off, fists clenched at his sides as he brushed past Tails, who had been silently observing from the sidelines. His baby blue eyes followed the black hedgehog, then turned to find Sonic with a pleading look, almost as if he were silently begging him to stand, please don’t give up, you can’t give up.

And despite it all — the guilt weighing down on his shoulders, the desperate fear coiling in his gut, the dizzying feeling of his priorities battling through his mind — Sonic felt something burn in his chest, stealing his breath and forcing his voice to project out a final, desperate cry, “Shadow! Death is after me!”

And Sonic didn’t know if it was genuine concern on the other’s part, or merely blatant bewilderment at the vagueness of what he’d just said, but against all odds, Shadow turned around, his brow raised in a rare look of raw confusion as he replied, “… What?”

#sonic prime got me thinking abt sonadow again #and my pib hyperfixation is still going strong #so yeah #i like to think that shadow wouldn't be as direct as kitty was in this scene #especially if he feels betrayed #but the guy can be as subtle as a flying brick sometimes #also i just think the image of shadow going 'what????' at the end is hilarious #sonadow #sth #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #au #fic #sonic the hedgehog the last wish

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weirdeggii · 1 month

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Skizzleman Week day 2!

Prompt: Hybrid/AU (by @skizzlemanweek)

AU of my own creation: Cave Dwellers AU - continued from yesterday

With every step he took towards the blue-spattered crevice, his anticipation grew.

The rumbling noise disappeared after a few minutes, but the weird fog in his vision remained.

The blue substance was definitely coming from something within the crevice, and it appeared to be growing out in veins from wherever the source was.

Skizz crouched down just in front of one of the tendrils, poking it with the tip of his sword. The substance scraped away from where his sword drew its path.

“Huh.” He breathed.

He cautiously stood back up again, being careful not to jostle his shoulder too much. He tested his sore foot and found that it didn’t hurt as badly as it did before.

The blue substance appeared to have a texture similar to moss, or maybe mold. It didn’t look toxic or anything, but there was definitely an odd aura about it.

There was an odd aura about this entire caving trip. Skizz had never been this lost before, nor had he ever been this unlucky when it came to finding resources - and that’s saying something.

He can’t find the exit to this cave, so he might as well try to figure out what’s going on. The blue substance must have something to do with it, since he’s never been this unlucky, and he’s never seen the substance before.

Skizz ducked his head and walked further into the crevice. He found that it was basically a thin tunnel, which was completely covered in the blue substance. His iron boots squished slightly into the ground with every step.

As he went deeper, he began to see little white flecks mixed in with the blue. Eventually, he came across a patch of the substance with tentacles growing from it.

“Huh,” Skizz breathed, and then jumped as the tendrils suddenly waved as he spoke.

“Whoa,” he said again, and the tendrils waved and lit up a slight blue.

“This is cool!” He cheered, and the tendrils lit up, waved, and made a little noise.

Suddenly, something deeper in the cavern shrieked, and the same rumbling noise from earlier started up again.

Skizz froze as the fog thickened, and the rumbling seemed like it was coming from all around him.

The fog was so thick that he couldn’t see anything at all - not even his hand in front of his face. His breathing picked up, and he pressed his back against the wall.

The wall squished under his weight, and he threw himself away with a barely-repressed shriek, brushing away bits of the blue substance that clung to his clothes.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what was going on - Skizz was just gonna stand here and be silent until the chaos went away.

He wrapped his arms around himself, cringing in pain as he moved his injured arm, and waited.

Eventually the rumbling stopped, and Skizz let his arms fall away with a sigh.

“What are you doing?!”

Skizz jumped about a thousand feet in the air at the hushed voice. “What the— who’s there?” He called.

“Shhhh!” The voice shushed. “Get outta there man! You’re gonna summon the warden!”

“What the heck is a warden?” Skizz asked, keeping his voice down this time. He turned his head around, looking for the source of the voice. The fog was still thicker than ever, so his attempts were unsuccessful.

“Obviously you don’t know, you were literally talking to a sculk sensor…” the voice mumbled, a hint of snark in their tone.

“Quit judging me! Where are you even talking to me from?”

“I’m literally right above you, you can’t see me?”

“No! It’s pitch black in here!” Skizz looked up anyway, trying to see if he could find the person behind the disembodied voice.

“I can see just fine!”

“Then why don’t you come to me?” Skizz snarked. He was getting tired of this game - if this guy wanted something from Skizz, he should at least show himself.

“Fine.” Skizz heard the whoosh of air being displaced, and the soft squish of something landing on the blue substance. “Now are you gonna answer my question?”

Skizz turned to look at where he heard the person land, but could only make out a vague outline. The person had a bulkier build, and was shorter than himself, and Skizz could clearly make out the wings of a bat hybrid. Skizz blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision to no avail. “What question?”

The person sighed, and Skizz could practically taste the eye-roll. “Why you’re yelling in a warden’s den.”

“I was only yelling because I got hurt! And the tentacle-thingy was glowing when I’d talk.”

“The ‘tentacle thingy’ is called a sculk sensor, and setting them off can trigger a shrieker, which summons the warden.” The person explained. “Which is why we have to be quiet.”

Skizz blinked. “Was that the rumbling sound then? The warden?”

“No, the warden wasn’t summoned yet. The rumbling serves as a sort of warning. The first three rumbling sounds are warnings, and the fourth one summons the warden.”

This guy sure is saying some words, and Skizz can only understand some of them. “So, wait, what is the warden?”

Silence for a moment, where Skizz thinks he isn’t going to answer. Then, the mystery person speaks. “You really aren’t from down here are you?”

“No, of course not!” Skizz exclaims, throwing his arms out. “I’ve been running around this cave system like an idiot for hours! I got chased by spiders, shot in the arm, and jump-scared by some random guy-!” Skizz pointed at the figure, who twitched backward at the action. “-who started being rude for no reason and still won’t answer my question. So I’ll ask again. What. Is. The warden?!”

The word echoed in the confined space of the cavern, amplified by the close-knit walls. Skizz realized what he had done a second too late, as the tendrils on the sculk sensor waved and made a sound, and a shrieker screamed further down the cavern.

“Shit.” He and the person said at once.

Then the rumbling began.

Worse than before, the whole cavern began to shake. The fragile sculk vines shook and fell away from the walls with the intensity of the tremors, and what little he could see was quickly swallowed up by the thickest fog he’s ever seen. He couldn’t even make out the slightest shape of the bat hybrid’s body anymore.

On the other end of the cavern, something began to emerge from the ground. The sculk warped and bulged and squished around, as something unearthed itself.

Skizz could hear his heartbeat in his ears - or, maybe it wasn’t his heartbeat, but instead a horrific sound coming from something else in this cave.

He felt someone grab the wrist of his left arm and pull, and he hissed in pain as his injury flared at the treatment.

“We need to go. Now.” The voice hissed.

Skizz could tell this wasn’t the time to argue, and frankly, he was inclined to listen to whatever this guy would tell him right now. He’s injured, scared, and frankly, tired of being in this cave. He nodded, not knowing if it was safe to talk.

“The warden is blind, so it can only track us through sound and smell. I can get us out of here, but you’re gonna have to trust me. I know- I know that’s a big ask of someone you just met, but-“

Skizz slid his hand over the bat hybrids’, cutting off his rambling and giving a firm nod. This guy is the expert here, and Skizz knows when to give the authority to someone else.

The warden fully emerged from the ground - Skizz could hear it sniffing and groaning from here.

“Okay,” the hybrid breathed entwining their fingers, “hold on.”

Skizz squeezed the hybrid's hand and felt his other arm go around his waist, pulling Skizz to his side. Then, with a beat of the hybrid’s wings, they leaped up onto a ledge in the cavern, several meters from the floor.

The warden groaned as it wandered towards where they just were, sniffing the spot where Skizz had leaned against the wall - some of his blood must’ve got on the sculk from his sleeve.

The warden had tendrils on its head that were similar to those of the sculk sensor, and Skizz imagined they served the same purpose. The wardens rib cage was exposed, and now Skizz could clearly see the source of the heartbeat - the warden had a giant heart beating away in that chest.

The hybrid pulled on Skizz’s hand again, and Skizz turned to look.

The fog was less thick up here, and he could just barely make out the other person’s eyes. They were entirely black, no visible pupil or iris or anything. Just like, well, a bat’s eyes.

“C’mon,” The hybrid said. “We’re not in the clear yet.”

Skizz nodded, continuing to follow their lead. They pulled him by the hand along a narrow path carved into the ceiling. As they walked, Skizz let the fingers of his other hand drag against the wall, and he could clearly feel chips and scratches that could only have been made by a pickaxe.

The sounds of the warden got quieter the further away they went, and eventually the pathway turned away from the crevice and into the wall, presumably deeper into the general cave area.

Eventually, the blindness caused by the warden completely faded, and Skizz could get a good look at his companion.

The bat hybrid was wearing dark clothing with accents of a lighter color - it was still too dark to tell what. His wings were a dark brown, and his hair was a similar shade. Skizz looked down to their joined hands and spotted nicely manicured nails - or maybe just dull claws.

The warden was so far removed from them that it wasn’t even a threat anymore, but Skizz still didn’t want to let go of his hand.

“My name is Impulse, by the way.” The hybrid said, glancing back at Skizz as they kept walking, offering a kind smile.

Skizz returned it with a sheepish one of his own. “I’m Skizz. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier, I was scared and didn’t know what was happening.”

“Don’t sweat it man, I understand. Just… maybe next time don’t scream at me while stood next to a sculk sensor.”

Skizz laughed, swinging their hands between them (and immediately regretting it when his shoulder stung from the motion). “No promises.”

#the next one will be a different au #skizzleman #hermitcraft #impulsesv #skizz week 1 #my writing #fanfiction #I hope to come back to this au soon but the next part is giving me some trouble

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 4 months

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Ben 10 Fanfic Sneak Peek

Sneak peak of a fic I'm writing for a Ben 10 AU where Greymatter's DNA donor was Azmuth's deceased son. Not the final version.

When Azmuth hears the door to his lab open, he doesn’t bother to look up. He doesn’t need to, not when there’s only two people with free access to the lab and he’s one of them. Besides, he’s got a pretty fair idea of what this is all about anyway.

“I’m leaving now.”

There it is. Azmuth’s hands do not pause, he doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing. “Is that so?”

Silence, as Meridian expects Azmuth to continue, but as the seconds stack on top of each other he finally decides to speak up.

“I came to say goodbye. It- It didn’t feel right to leave without doing that.” There’s a pause, the sound of movement, of something being placed on one of Azmuth’s many work benches. “I’m leaving you with a two-way direct communicator. The other one is with me so we can keep in contact.”

Azmuth frowns, feels like making a biting comment, but instead waves his hand dismissively. “Unnecessary. I will not need it.”

“You don’t know that,” Meridian argues. “Something unexpected could happen and you know you can always call me in case you need-”

“You appear to misunderstand,” Azmuth interrupts. “Let me phrase that differently; I won’t use it. Therefore, it’s useless to leave it here. It will just clutter the lab.”

He hears Merridan inhale sharply. “You’re impossible!” he exclaims and Azmuth can so clearly picture it in his head, the way he’s throwing his hands up in the air in agitation. He’s always been a hothead, too easy to rile up with just a few choice words. “Why can’t you even try? Or even just pretend to try? I get that you’re disappointed but I’m really doing my best to-”

Meridian stops himself and takes a deep breath, then sighs. He sounds tired. Has he been having as hard of a time sleeping as Azmuth?

“I will be going to Hathor first,” he continued after a few seconds of silence, as if Azmuth had inquired about it. “I’ve read that the southern hemisphere is beautiful this time of the year and there’s a lot of people gathering for the local festivals.”

Azmuth quickly recollects everything he knows about the planet. Hathor, homeplanet of the Splixsons. Third planet from its sun, 12 continents, covered by 67% water, axial tilt of 25.7 degrees, no natural satellites. Main export; agriculture, art and entertainment. Remarkably low criminal activity in comparison to other planets. There’s a particular dessert popular with the locals, called Sunset Wildberry Cake. A real delicacy and a must have for anyone visiting the planet.

Instead of saying any of this, Azmuth just grunts. “I see.” Even with his back turned, he can feel how Merridan is staring at him. Waiting for him to turn around. But Azmuth won’t give him what he wants.

Meridian sighs again. He does that a lot these days, as if Azmuth is the one who’s being difficult.

“I won’t be back for some time, you know?” He pauses and Azmuth has to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking when exactly he thinks he’s going to be back. “If there’s something you want to say… Well, I’m here. And I’m listening.”

For a brief moment, Azmuth considers what would happen if he turned around and actually looked at his son. Surely he would cave in then.

There’s a thousand different things he would tell Merridan. He would urge him to be careful, to take care of himself and avoid suspicious places and people. Then he would ask him if he’s packed enough supplies, if he’s brought everything he’ll need for the journey. Does he have his tool set? Has he packed those algae biscuits that he likes? There’s a hidden jar of them in the lab if he hasn’t. And is he sure he doesn’t need more credits? Azmuth would give him whatever sum he needed.

And finally, once left with no more questions, Azmuth would tell Merredin how proud he is of him. That despite their recent arguments, despite not always seeing eye to eye, that there’s not a day going by that he does not feel blessed to have him as his son. Tell him everything he’s always wanted to say but never actually told him, be it because of pride or just his inability to vocalize his emotions.

It would be easy. All he has to do is turn around.

“There’s nothing to say,” Azmuth grits out, shoulders hunched.

There’s a moment of silence, where neither of them says anything. Every second passing feels like a needle jabbing into Azmuth’s heart. Then, a quiet sigh.

“Goodbye, dad.”

Azmuth refuses to say anything, refuses to even look up. Even when the door closes behind Meridian and Azmuth’s left alone in his lab, he simply just stands there, frozen in place. He stares at his work, eyes unfocused, at his hands that have at some point stopped moving.

For some reason, he can’t find it in himself to will them into action.

The silence is deafening. It feels… strange. Uncomfortable. Whenever Merridan worked by his side, it was never this quiet. He had a habit of talking to himself, muttering under his breath when he felt stuck or exclaiming his sudden solutions out loud. Sometimes he would hum a tune, a made up little ditty as he performed some more menial tasks.

It was a silly, harmless habit that Azmuth had allowed. He had never quite realized how integral it had become to his life until now.

Finally, the silence breaks him. Azmuth tears his eyes away from his work, now forgotten on the table in front of him. He twists his head to look behind himself, as if somehow he will find Merridan still standing there, waiting, when he turns around.

Of course, there’s no one there.

His eyes focus on one of his many work benches. It’s cluttered, filled with spare parts and schematics yet he can instantly spot the communicator Merridan had left behind. He had almost expected him to take it back, the way Azmuth had rejected it. But when had Merridan ever really listened to him?

Azmuth doesn’t feel in control of his body as he moves across the lab. It feels like he’s a passenger in his own head, observing someone else move his limbs as he picks up the communicator.

It’s a flat, circular disk with a simple interface and a holoscreen projector. Turning it around in his hands, it gleams in the light of the lab. It’s been polished and Azmuth’s tired face stares back at him.

Tilting the communicator slightly, he notices an engraving on its side. Neat galvan letters, written with a laser pen.

-Till we meet again.-

With a snarl, Azmuth opens a cabinet and throws the communicator inside, slamming the door harder than necessary when he closes it. He plants both his hands on the bench and glares at the flat surface like he’s trying to set it on fire with his mind. Azmuth wishes he had claws so he could carve thick groves into it, rend it into unrecognizable pieces.

The desk remains compact.

#ben 10 #imagine #AU #azmuth #angst

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princeanxious · 8 months

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Hi! I was wondering about your Lost Guardian au from ages ago, do you think you’ll ever plan on updating it and if not, could someone else take up the fic?

So heres the thing. If someone wants to write a fic *inspired* by The Lost Guardian, i’m not gonna stop them, and i’d probably feel super honored so long as the inspiration was correctly credited!

As for ‘taking up the fic,’ the short answer is no.

I have active drafts and the rest of the story already planned out to its finish, notes, even a branch-off fic set post-story that will likely go up on my nsfw blog if i ever get around to editing it. The Lost Guardian hasn’t been abandoned, it’s simply on hiatus. (And yes, i recognize 3 almost 4 years so far is a really fucking long hiatus. The Chapter 9 draft doc was made in december of 2020, and last edited in July 2022)

I started writing that fic whilst still in highschool, a time where I was 17 and didnt have to worry yet about getting my license or maintaining a part time job, i had an over abundance of freetime even partially to my detriment, the fandom was booming and I had plenty of feedback, and this fic was (and still *is*) a story im proud of.

But i’m 22 now, working a full time job to pay rent and account for a number of minor ‘disabilities’(best word i have for them atm) that I cant ignore or push to the side nor treat poorly, from the lasting effects on my body of stunted growth to celiac/glutent intolerance to adhere to that directly determines how easily my body functions for the week, to dealing with glasses i cannot afford to break and taking care of teeth i cannot afford to fix, taking care of my mental health and using the free time i have to do what brings me the most joy at that time.

The sanders sides fandom has heavily quieted down with the season finale hiatus and I’d like to think I did pretty well for going six long years dedicated solely to that without cracking under the silence, because *I knew* when I caved to something else it’d be a long while before I had the drive to come back with any sort of resolution to my active works. Thats just how my hyper fixations work. I cannot focus on multiple at once, it’s too much to process simultaneously and takes away my enjoyment bc I tend to watch/consume things repeatedly to catch every little detail i missed. And it doesn’t help when one loses steam because their content barely breaks 100 notes(80% of which are likes, 15% are reblogs with the occasional comment, and 5% are self-reblogs) when back in the height of it all, a few thousand notes was pretty average interaction. This blog still has about 11.5k followers, almost all of which came from the height of the fandom period. So for now i’ve moved onto the FNAF DCA fandom, bc it is fresh and new to me.

I know you didn’t mean to poke the bear here, I get it, but like.. C’mon. Any other fic of mine likely wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction in full but, still. I’ve had to answer this question a handful of times over the years at the point, which might be why this response feels so charged, and i’m sorry.

I don’t mean to come off as snippy or rude, but it *is* kind of invasive to offer to finish one’s creative work when it’s taking too long and theres very little payback for it. I’ve got adhd, delayed satisfaction isn’t a thing I experience. Just guilt that it wasn’t finished in a way for me to post it in time before I broke and lost all motivation to share it.

In my head, TLG has been long finished and held the ending for years, theres just been no energy to put in the effort of finish writing it for others to read. I’m still trying to get my life together to change that, don’t get me wrong, but the American economy is literally in shambles so who knows how or even if i’ll manage that. Call me selfish for being content with only mentally having my creative story’s ending and a collection of rambles and notes to show for it, but at the end of the day, it’s still my story, and i dont feel comfortable with people trying to ‘take up the mantle’ to finish it, when they don’t know how it ends.

I’m glad you like it enough to want to, though, I really *really* am. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to finish it for you all. And i just don’t know when that will be, I just know that I *want* to do so, however long it takes.

#luka answers #sanders sides #tlg fic #the lost guardian au #luka’s aus #luka rambles #luka rants

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bearbluebooks · 9 months

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The Sun and Its Shadows - a Gwynriel AU Magic Story

Chapter 1 - Somwhere Only We Know

I have been a long-time passive consumer of ACoTaR fanfiction, and every talented writer has inspired me to add to this amazing fandom! Here is my first chapter of a Gwynriel fanfiction titled 'The Sun and its Shadows'. It wil be a multiple POV 25ish chapter story, with eventual smut! If you love alternate universe MAGIC, dark academia and ancient prophecies this is for you!

Every chapter will be titled after a song which will be explained at the beginning of every chapter to enhance the reading experience.

I made a moodboard so you can get a sense of the story!

Read the first chapter on AO3 or on Tumblr under the cut :)

Please let me know what you think!

Summary:

Growing up in paradise, Gwyn thought she had everything a person could possibly dream of. A loving village, a secret sea-dragon best friend, a twin, and a purpose. That was until the Sun Sages came to Sangravah. In their quest to fulfill an ancient prophecy, they destroyed everything in their wake. What was paradise, quickly turned into hell. Gwyn discovers that there aremore layers to the world than her mother ever let on. She quickly needs to rediscover who she is outside her sheltered existence in a world of magic, academia and the mysterious prophecy. This story is based on the character's of a Court of Thorns and Roses, as such I will follow Gwyn's story which involves sexual violence. I will warn at the beginning of each chapter where mention of sexual violence starts and ends, so please don't read it if it is triggering for you.

The days were long, and the nights were endless. Gwyn used to thrive under the sun, she loved to bask in the rays of liquid medicine. She used to wake up at first sunlight, before everybody else, to start her day as if she was the only person in the world. Those little moments of solitude were precious to her. Those moments belonged solely to her, because she did not have to worry about anyone else, something she struggled with in the presence of other people. Ever since she was a child. Gwyn had the annoying habit of people pleasing. She always made sure everybody was doing okay, which often meant there was no more space for her. In the morning light, as the sun started to rise, she had all the space in the world.

Gwyn’s favorite place to watch the sunrise was in her secret cave located at the bottom of the enormous green mountainside she called home. Sangravah, as it was lovingly called by its 50 or so villagers, was a rustic village, with houses built into its cliffside, overlooking the sea. At night, the moonlight illuminated the sea, creating thousands of little stars reflected in the ocean waves. The rugged mountain pass with its many croaked roads, and dense trees, prohibited outsiders from visiting the small village, which made it one of the best-kept secrets in Prythian. The seaside village was so small and isolated, it had to be completely self-sufficient, therefore, from age 12, every villager had an assigned task. For example, there was a fisherman, Birch, a teacher, named Iridia, who taught the 9 village children, and Gwyn’s mum who was a priestess. Together they sustained their paradise. Although Gwyn’s twin Catrin felt imprisoned by the isolation, Gwyn loved the calmness of their life.

For Gwyn, the sea was her life line. The waves played a tune that spoke to her heart. Urging her to calm down with every cresting wave. The water was clear as crystal, and as blue as her teal eyes. The secret cave, combined her two favorite things, watching the sunrise, and the sea. The cave was located at the bottom of the enormous mountainside, hidden behind two big willow trees. The opening had a small bedrock in the shape of a cresting moon, which allowed Gwyn to sit comfortably and look outside to the rising sun. Inside the cresting moon plateau, was the place where the cave water connected to the sea. One day, at age 10, when she swam out a little too far, lost in her own thoughts and space, she found the little area behind the trees. Normally, Gwyn would not engage in adventure unless Catrin convinced her to, yet something overtook Gwyn that day, was it intuition or perhaps destiny?

One day, a year later, Gwyn heard a small noise. Trying not to let fear overtake her secret place, she attempted to find the source of the clicking noise. She looked everywhere: behind the tree, under the rock, inside the alcove, but she could not find it. Until she looked in the water, to her surprise there was a big blue animal swimming just underneath the surface. Its scales were so blue it almost became one with the sea. Gwyn was frightened of the animal, it looked like the scary dragons she read about in her fairytales. She was ready to leave the cave and never come back, until the small beast touched her palm in a cheerful manner. Urging her to play. Confused, Gwyn pet the blue beast, and figured this would be the last time the two would see each other. However, day after day, the two would share the space, which made Gwyn decide to name it Blue Willow, Blue for short. Gwyn did not mind sharing the space with Blue, they immediately created an understanding of mutual care, Blue would bring her small shells, and Gwyn would feed it fish which she traded with the fisherman. She would write his letters, and he would give her the fish that were too small to feed their villagers. Blue and Gwyn grew close, one day it even let Gwyn ride on its back. She would hold on tight to its little fins and together they had small adventures exploring the sea. Gwyn felt guilty about not telling Catrin about Blue, but telling her about her other best friend, would mean giving up her secret spot, and she was not ready to do so yet.

Her childhood was magical. Filled with lots of love from the village, Blue, and the purpose she found in following in her mother’s footsteps. In the village it was a custom to follow in your parents’ footsteps, therefore, Kathrin and Gwyn would become priestesses. The twins never knew who their father was, their mum was always very secretive about their lineage. Although Catrin often tried to breach the subject, desperate to find out who was responsible for her black hair and her pale skin, true to Gwyn’s nature, she never asked, not wanting to upset their mother. She vowed to only secretly wonder. She was happy with her life, and did not want to disturb the beautiful life their mum built for them, so, she chose gratitude and mystery over clarity and inner peace.

Even though Gwyn never met people outside of Sangravah, she knew she was lucky. Yet, somewhere deep inside she also knew luck was never meant to last, and one day it would run out. A terrible intuition that turned out the be true two moons after she and Catrin celebrated their 16th birthday. It was a seemingly ordinary day. Birch had just returned from fishing, Gwyn and Blue watched the sunrise, the children had school, learning how to read time by studying the sun, and her mum prepared the service. That was until, as predicted by the ancient prophecy, violent, strange men came to Sangravah. The prophecy became shorter with each retelling from generation to generation, but the essence always remained the same:

A time shall arrive When shadows weep and the sun burns bright And the people of the light Will find the village and reclaim the power to revive All shall be lost, remain aware Protect the girl with the red hair

Gwyn heard the stories, the ancient warning that was passed through generations, as all old realities turned into fairytales. Although Gwyn loved stories, and always dreamed of finding her destined love, she never wished to live through this particular one. The men entered under the guise of light, attacking in plain sight. Gwyn had never seen so many men in her life. They wore strange silver armor, and exuded so much violence. Catrin was the first to spot them, she yelled at Gwyn to take all the children to the forest far away from the village. Gwyn felt powerless. Outside of her secret morning ritual, Gwyn never left Catrin’s side, and in such a time of need, it felt like cutting out her heart. But Gwyn also knew how the children of their village were even more powerless, and how Catrin was right, they needed to be brought to safety, she was always right.

Gwyn heard Catrin’s scream and there was no more time to flee to the trees. Gwyn knew there was an old escape route out of the mountains, that was almost as old as the village itself: an old cellar inside the library. She read about it once in one of the religious texts she had to study to become a priestess. Luckily, all the children were still in the classroom, she quickly gathered all nine of them, promising them candy if they remained quiet. After she put the last child in the cellar, she quickly pulled the rug and the desk over the entrance, because she heard men approaching. Catrin ran inside. Happy they found each other in the chaos, they embraced. A moment of fictious peace, as one of the men pulled Catrins hair so hard she was slammed to the ground. As she fell, Catrin quietly said, “Mum died Gwyn, they killed her, they killed her.” Gwyn could not believe her ears. All she had ever known was her peaceful village, what was happening? Who were these men? And where was mom? She could not be dead. She was their mom, she had so much life to live, she still had to teach her how to take the vinal vows. The men who pulled Catrins hair was laughing, joining their conversation yelling: “that bitch with the red hair, yeah she is dead, Finch killed her, but not before he took what he was owed.” Took what he owed? What did that mean, mum never owed anybody anything, everything was by and for the village. Catrin had pure fear in her eyes, as she was always more aware of the world outside of Sangravah. Catrin retrieved stories from the fisherman, who, especially with some fairy wine, was more loose with information than their mother tended to be.

More men swarmed into the small library. They were all wearing strange yellow clothing. One of them seemed to be different, he was wearing a cape with a sun on it, in his hand was a big wooden staff, almost as tall as his body. The scary man who was so violent towards Catrin proceeded to rip her clothes off. Gwyn tried to look away, but still she wondered: why was he undoing his pants, what was that between his legs and why was he forcing Catrin’s mouth on it? Catrin fought with every fiber of her being, biting the thing between his legs. The man became so furious he took the large metal thing in his hand and with one swift movement sliced through Catrin’s head. Gwyn became paralyzed, her beautiful twin who was just now talking to her, was dead.

For the first time in her life Gwyn all alone in the world. Everything was too much. One of the other man took this as an opportunity to approach her, he proceeded to take her clothes off too. He yanked her skirt up and forced himself inside her. Gwyn remained paralyzed. The whole world became a blur. She felt the table shaking with every thrust, but it was like she was floating outside of her body. She heard faint noises. More male voices. They were yelling against each other. An angel of death came into the library, she saw black in the sea of yellow. The table stopped shaking. The angel had a similar metal weapon, which he used to end the man that was crouching over her. The man was quickly pushed off the table, off her. The world was moving fast, and impossibly slow at the same time. She knew people were talking to her but she could not formulate words, she was in shock. She remembered a blanket being pulled over her body, covering her half naked body, and the strange sensation of shadows kissing her cheeks. Did she imagine the faint noises reassuring her, telling her everything would be alright?

The next thing she remembered was waking up in a strange brown room, filled with white beds and an unnerving quiet. A quiet that Gwyn did not trust anymore. The first thing Gwyn did was yell “Catrin, where is Catrin?” A female approached her, in an empathetic voice she told her: “my dear, she is dead, they were all killed.” Then she remembered and darkness overtook her again, as she slowly drifted back to sleep.

#acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #a court of silver flames #gwyn acosf #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #alternate universe #magic #acotar fanfiction

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theamphibianmen · 1 month

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Ok, I'll bite. What is The Ore?

Hehehehe I'm so glad you asked (you totally will not regret asking me) (I'm an oh so very normal person) ! Warning for very long ramblings about some very weird shit under the cut. Mostly body horror.

The Ore is a Steven Universe AU in which Steven effectively has the gem version of DID. His gem removes itself from his body and splits off into four parts, which form Rose Quartz, Pink Diamond, Pink Steven, and that thing he turns into at the end of Future. Steven's human half is still alive but he did crash the van because of this. He is also very sick and ends up needing a bone marrow transplant from Greg.

Rose, PD, PS, and the creature are also a bit smaller than they were when the gem was still intact, putting PD at about the same height as Peridot and Rose taller than Pearl but shorter than Garnet. The creature is about the size of Pumpkin, and is basically just a really angry dog.

PS talks the other gem bits into traveling to Homeworld by claiming that the Homeworld gems attacked Earth, and Little Homeworld is actually a military base. He tells them that by bringing PD back they can end the war. They get there by stealing a spaceship from Little Homeworld (it was a group project/enrichment activity for some of the Peridots). Once they get to Homeworld, PS sets his plan into motion.

This war, and everything that has ever gone wrong in his life, only happened because of disagreements between gems. That wouldn't be an issue if all gems were one.

He has Rose present PD to the other diamonds while he sneaks off to Pink's room, where he uses forced fusion tech to fuse with all the gems he can find in the palace. This amounts to quite a lot of gems since they literally make up the walls in some places.

Once he's fused all the palace gems into The Ore, the diamonds are next. Blue knows something is terribly wrong and puts the pearls and Spinel on a ship to Earth to get help. White and Yellow go willingly, but blue has to be forced. Because of this she and the other unwilling participants don't join the hive mind, which is why PS tries to convince gems to join willingly so that he doesn't have to force them.

By the time all the gems on Homeworld have fused, The Ore is the same size as Earth. Its new mission is to travel to all colonized planets and absorb all the gems there. Peridot's satellites quickly pick up on the planet sized mass hurdling towards them at 1/4 light speed. She sends the CGs (and Connie) to check it out because her readings keep coming back inconsistent, and because Homeworld isn't responding to her messages for obvious reasons.

One of the two chapters I've written so far is Connie getting vored by the planet and sent to a horrible writhing flesh labyrinth.

Imagine: you've landed on a planet that's almost entirely pink. The clouds look suspiciously familiar and the air smells strongly of metal. The ground is ever so slightly bouncy, and smooth to the touch. You stroll up and down the pink hills and come across the mouth of a cave, as in a literal mouth with lips and teeth. You enter and are quickly swallowed, tumbling down the esophagus. The ground you land on is soft enough to break your fall, but something snaps beneath. You look around to see thousands upon thousands of limbs, eyes, mouths and other body parts lining the walls. Voices cry out for help. Tears drip from the ceiling onto your face. You now understand where the gems of Homeworld have gone.

The Ore is made up of three main layers: the willing participants/crust who make up a skin-like outer layer, the uncooperative ones or the mantle who form the system of horrible flesh tunnels, and the core which is basically the gems of all the unwilling parties. PS's gem is also in the center of the core because he KNOWS ppl are coming for his ass.

The mantle is the part I wanted to write about. I'm definitely in it for the body horror aspect. And because my brother already got on me about this, no, the CGs didn't know the planet was a gem fusion because it's not reasonable to expect characters to know what genre they're in. They think they're in sci-fi fantasy when they're really in sci-fi horror with fantasy and drama undertones.

There'll be some other plot stuff too like Pearl getting corrupted and turning into a bird, Jasper sacrificing herself so that the others can escape the flesh planet, Connie dying and being resurrected, Steven shattering his own gem which won't really affect him physically but is still super fucked up, etc etc.

Basically I want to write something that someone can reasonably say is the worst thing they've ever read. I want people to be so disturbed by my writing that I get messages from mental health crisis lines. I want people to think I'm deranged.

Hope this clears things up! <3

#steven universe #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fusion #fandom shit #im so normal #i thought about making pearl lay eggs in bird mode but the canon purists are already coming for my ass #even though technically there's nothing in canon saying this can't happen

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experimentjr · 2 years

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Ok, for a long long time I've been wanting to draw the map of realms from my AU and this drawing took me so long to finish that I dropped it halfway through BUT I finally picked it up again and finished!!! I present to you:

Yggdrasil and its realms

In my AU, there are 14 known realms and among them, we have:

Sólmani, the realm of Sun and Moon and the kingdom of Dellingr, deity of day/night;

Viðbláinn, the new place for the remaining humans and gods after Ragnarök;

Andlangr, the “bunker” for all humans when Ragnarök happens;

Asgard, realm of the Æsir gods. Here we have Valhalla, Valaskjálf and Hliðskjálf, Þrúðvangr and Bilskirnir, Fensalir AKA Sökkvabekkr, Breiðablik, Glitnir, Himinbjörg, Belivalr mountain and ��dalir, Iðavöllr and Glaðsheimr and Vingólf, Hvergelmir river, Lanvidi, Nóatún, Hildarvangr.

Vanaheim of the Vanir gods. A place full of magic and where the first witches came. Here you can find Fólkvangr and Sessrúmnir just to name a few. It’s the place of rest of a giant who fell in the hands of Lilith, turning into Vanaheim upon his death. The Ylgr river flows through Vanaheim and bathes the giant skeleton of the realm.

Midgard is Earth, where most of “Hilda and The Allmother” characters came from. Among thousands upon thousands of known places, few stand out. They are: Trolberg, Toføten, Vanæsvalr AKA Hexental, Gnipahellir, Húnaland, Hreiðgotaland, Gästrikland, Bjarmaland, mountain Rerir, mountain Hár, mountain Halldór, Munnin’s peak, Járnviðr forest, Myrkviðr forest, Nótt forest, Huldraforest, Steinnharr and Jötunnstone, Björgfjord and Björd lake and Liten, the ruins of Whiteridge castle, Byrstrfossen, Towe's tower, the Highwood, Philosopher's Watch, The Signalhan's barrow, Possegrim, Fjörm, Fimbulþul and Sylgr triplet rivers just to name a few.

Jötunheim, the realm of giants of old. Hnitbjörg, Útgarðar, Fjällenótt, Þrymheimr, Vimur AKA Við and Hríð river are few of the most famous locations on the realm. When the giants left Midgard, they went to Jötunnheim.

Muspelheim, is the realm of fire and magma and where Surtr lives. Vígríðr and Eldrhellir are two of the most famous places of the realm. The river of molten metal, Leiptr, flows through Muspelheim and leads to Svartalfheim, where the dwarves can use the metal to forge.

Helheim is the realm of the dead and where the ship of the dead Naglfari sails. Niflheim is located here and the entrance to Niflheim. The Gjöll river cuts the land of the living from the land of the dead and where the Gjallarbrú bridge stands above, protected by Angrboða and Garmr. There’s another river, the Sliðr and lastly, the Svöl river from where the Náströnd is born. The Éljúðnir hall, home of Helgeisten and his daughters is the last known place.

Ránarheim is the realm of the drowned. This is where all drown people go to rest and the kingdom of Rán. Hríð rive from Jötunnheim leads to this realm. Gunnþrá is the second river from where the drown can use to go to Ránarheim.

Gefheim, the immense fields where Gef uses to plow the dirt with her oxen children. All of those who died virgin go to Gefheim to become he oxen. She’s the responsible for rowing giants portions of land for humans to settle. The river that flows through Gefheim and nourishes all plants and gardens is Vimur river, that flows through Jötunheim

Svartalfheim is the second darkest realm to live. There you will find the dwarves, where they can mine from the caves to forge all of their itens. It’s connects Niflheim to Muspelheim by a hidden entrance. Its most famous kingdom is Niðavellir and where the molten metal river Leiptr ends.

Niflheim, the realm of mist and darkness and the prison of Lilith and Níðhöggr, alongside other monstrous dragons who gnaws on the roots of Yggdrasil. There, móðguðr and the three nornir Valkyries Skuld, Svipul AKA Urðr and Verðandi fight with the dragons. There you will find the Náströnd river, the Mímisbrunnr, Urðarbrunnr and Hvergelmir wells protected by the nornir and Níðhöggr’s lair: Niðafjöll.

At last, Ginnungagap, where Yggdrasail and Svartrfligr, “the eternal black” live. A neverending space that leads to nowhere and from where the Éligávar river was born. Frozen by Niflheim’s coldness and evaporated by Muspelheim heat, all life began at this river and this river runs through all of Yggdrasil, flooding the realms with life. From Éligávar, tons of rives flow, among them we have: Hvergelmir, Sliðr, Vimur, Ylgr, Hríð, Gunnþrá, Fjörm, Fimbulþul, Sylgr, Leiptr, Svöl.

I really hope you people like it and I’m so sorry it took me this long to post. Hope the next doesn’t take as long.

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darkstaranthology · 5 months

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'dragon's breath' was the fourth fic posted for 'dark star - an izch anthology.' As of writing this post, it is in-progress.

Discussion of dark themes, threatened and feared rape/non-con, mating cycles/in-heat elements and loss of control during sex for magical reasons, human/non-human sexual relationships, and other triggering content below this cut. There will also be spoilers for the fic, if you want to read it for yourself first.

Fic stats:

~49,000 words at time of writing

7 chapters at time of writing

E rated (explicit sexual content, human/non-human sexual relationships, mating cycles/in-heat/sex pollen elements, threats of and attempted rape/non-con, past torture and rape/non-con)

Archive Warnings (AO3): Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Fantasy AU (nominally a rendition of the 'official' fantasy AU for BNHA shown in the popularity polls/anime ending theme)

'dragon's breath' is a long-form fantasy AU multichapter fic, based loosely on the 'official' BNHA fantasy AU which has appeared in popularity polls and one of the ending animations of the show. It concerns Princess Ochako Uraraka, a roughly nineteen-twenty year old woman with minor magical abilities, who is grappling with impending arranged marriage and the period-typical sexism of a vaguely medieval society. She meets Deku, a young, wounded dragon, and it changes the course of her fate. It also has... a bit of an odd history to its writing.

As of me writing this post, it's the only fic in 'dark star' that is ongoing, rather than completed. I began writing it in June of 2022, and I wrote the first five chapters before posting it. However, it actually began life in June of 2021, as an experiment in writing 'darker' and 'grittier' fic. It was originally inspired by a piece of Deku/Shigaraki art, where adventurer!Deku ran into dragon!Shigaraki in a cave, and the latter was quite menacing. I actually attempted to write that fic with that pairing, only to give up on it about four thousand words into things.

Deku/Shigaraki is an interesting ship, incidentally one of my real life partner's favorite BNHA ships. It's not so much that I dislike Deku/Shigaraki, personally. It's a pairing that fandom gets antsy about, as they have an age gap of roughly four-five years. I actually think that's totally fine, given that Deku is going on seventeen in the manga, while Shigaraki is just about to turn twenty-two, I believe. That's the least problematic thing about them, considering their canon context. Most of my issue with Deku/Shigaraki is that while they have a lot of cool subtext and themes surrounding them, their actual personal dynamic in canon is insufferable to me romantically. It's a more appealing idea in AUs, but that in turn shaves off most of their complexity, naturally.

Shigaraki in canon is, unfortunately, an annoying gamer dudebro shut in who yells slurs at teens over voice chat while playing ranked League of Legends matches. No amount of uwu softboi twinkification in fanon will change this reality, and I think it if anything makes him less interesting. But it also makes me very disinterested in shipping him with Deku, a character you have to bend over backwards to give him a personal relationship with. They have a good dynamic as a hero and a villain, but that's about it, really (to me).

So to make a long story short, I wrote about thirty thousand words of dragon Deku and witch Ochako with the same basic premise, instead. The original version actually played out mostly the same as what's now posted, Ochako just wasn't a princess. Instead, she was sort of a local hedge witch/healer/alchemist-type, and she ran into Deku in the cave while searching for ingredients. In this version, Deku was more straightforwardly 'sinister'/off-putting, and after they had their brief tryst in the cave, he flew off. The second chapter, of what was planned as a two-shot, involved him finding her several years later, coming back to apologize to her for treating her disrespectfully when she helped him.

This version in 2021 I clearly wasn't actually ready to write yet. The characterization wasn't consistent, I didn't know how to handle AUs so severely divorced from canon, and I wasn't ready to push dark concepts to the edge. I ended up hard scrapping it, then regretting it later when the Google doc was already gone. Such is life.

In 2022, after I began 'dark star,' I was writing 'fantasies,' and I started daydreaming about the formal fantasy AU that BNHA has. This was originally (to my knowledge) drawn by Hori for a popularity poll, then it was animated for the show for its second season. It's super cute, but of course, this is 'dark star,' so I started imagining this sort of broad feminist dark fantasy centered on Princess Uraraka of the Kingdom of Uravity overcoming her given station in life as the unlucky daughter of minor nobles.

When I was writing 'fantasies,' I had already written the first few chapters of 'dragon's breath.' I was writing a lot at that stage, often doing several WIPs at once, so this was pretty easy to do. That's how the implied framing device of 'dark star' happened, where novelist!Ochako was writing 'dragon's breath' as her in-universe novel. This will appear again down the line, with the broad implication that fantasies!Deku eventually wrote 'BNHA' in-universe as a comic book series, and that Ochako began to incorporate that into her novels as a sort of recursive element.

Now, regarding 'dragon's breath.' Other than that how I got here is very long and meandering, it's just an odd duck of a fic. What inspired me to revisit my abandoned dragon Deku concept was art by Twitter artist 'AroaKeyna' for her 'Dragon!izch' AU. She's a furry artist, and I really like her art. Wanting to do a homage/adaptation of her work, I incorporated the 'Ochako is a princess' angle, and I used her design for dragon!Deku, who in the original had more of an angular appearance to him. Popular izch author 'SevenRenny' (@sevenrenny) is a dear friend of mine, and their furry anthro AUs for izch have been very influential on me as well, so this served as a good gift for them.

Personally, I'm not very interested in furry content in the pure abstract sense. Not so much that I 'dislike' it, it just doesn't make me feel anything special. That is to say, I wouldn't characterize myself as a furry, per se. But furry AUs of izch are something I really like, which I find fascinating. I don't think this is any great, deep revelation about my sexuality or anything - and I have had those through my time in fandom, plenty much so - but it does interest me as a point of introspection.

So while 'dragon's breath' has some furry/anthro elements, I think it's pretty clear that I don't really 'go here,' so to speak. Still! I did my best. It will come up more as the fic goes on. Deku as a dragon is written with ideas about 'domination' and 'inequality' in mind, threading the needle on the feminist fantasy and the themes in canon of 'not all men are created equal.' It's significant that Ochako in this fic is surrounded by awful people who want to use her, and the one person she meets who categorically is meant to dominate her instead bends over backwards to please her. Of course, that's a very obvious notion, but I was very committed to making this idea work, and it will be explored more.

In practice, this means that Deku's magic involves aphrodisiac/sex pollen elements not entirely within his control. This makes having sex with him an inherently dicey prospect for Ochako, as it's sort of by definition consensual non-consent. This evolves over the course of the fic, and their dynamic will mature over time. I also just gave Deku a lot of bizarre, alien biology, like having a self-lubricating, nubbed cock, or the fact that he doesn't have nipples or a belly button, since he was born from an egg. Dragon's in this setting aren't 'evolved' creatures, more like traditional vampires where they are 'designed' a certain way by a higher power, and this element will come back, as well.

That brings me to the other elephant in the room: as of writing this post, 'dragon's breath' is unfinished. Indeed, where the story is at right now, there's no end in immediate sight. I actually wrote out the entire next chapter, and it's been sitting in my Google drive since last July. But it ends on a fairly substantial cliffhanger, and to be blunt... I didn't know what happened next after that.

I actually do know what happens next now. There's some important revelations to discuss regarding the 'true nature' of both Prince Shouto and Barbarian Prince Katsuki. Both of them have very unflattering portrayals in this fic. Bakugou in particular was modeled after a number of 'rape fetish' Ochako/Bakugou fics I was exposed to, where I was riffing off of that idea, but without making it something meant to be seen as 'appealing.' Of course, I think it's fine to write non-consent as a fetish thing, I just think the consistently awful characterization of Bakugou by fandom as this hypermasculine, dominant sex god is aggravating, to be honest.

Still, no point in standing on a soap box about it. The fic speaks for itself on the matter, I think. I broadly know what I want to do now. The next few sequences concern the introduction of some important characters: Chisaki, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Toga, primarily. They also concern some backstory mysteries being solved for the audience, such as what drove All Might's motivations, or the nature of Nana, the Lady of the Lake. I think this fic has at least 8-10 chapters to go, probably around 120k words when it's finished, but we shall see.

This fic is very Ochako-centric, which I think is fine. It's easy to write Ochako-centric izch fics for me, as Deku is my absolute favorite character, possibly of all time, but the series is already about him. Of course, I love Ochako, too, but it just works easily for fic, as she has a lot of space to work with as a character. One common criticism I hear of izch as a ship, which I actually empathize with, is that they aren't interesting in canon because Hori doesn't write enough about Deku's feelings for/about Ochako. I think people are selective with this criticism, as Deku has a lot of problems with his writing in general, yet they conveniently will forgive this with Bakugou or Todoroki, but the point stands, regardless. Consequently, I often receive feedback to the effect of 'I don't really care for izch, but I really enjoyed your fic about them.'

I take this as proof that people don't really dislike Ochako or izch on principle, they dislike Hori's poor planning in canon, and they probably dislike the insufferable cishet male fandom for BNHA that lurks on Twitter and Reddit. Can't really blame them there, even if they sound stupid insisting that their favorite generic anime boy that Hori wrote just as foolishly is somehow exempt from his poor planning. I digress.

I'm proud of how this fic has come out so far, insofar as I consider it a valuable learning experience. I really didn't know much about how to write fantasy before 'dragon's breath,' and I think I learned a lot. There are two more fantasy AUs planned for 'dark star' at the time of writing this post: one is an adaptation/homage to an existing izch fic by another author, and one is a direct AU of another mainstream media property, a sort of setting fusion. They will both riff off of 'dragon's breath' thematically, as 'dark star' has a lot of deliberate intertextuality, but neither will be expressly related as such, and neither will be based on the 'canon fantasy AU' for BNHA.

I think given the chance to do 'dragon's breath' over, I wouldn't have posted it until it was done. I learned valuable lessons about how to write and post ongoing, long-form fics from this experience, too. I hope the rest of 'dark star' won't have this problem, as I no longer plan to post fics for the series that are not already completed. I also plan to do a proper weekly release cadence from now on, rather than every other day or every five days, which I experimented with via other fics.

Still, 'dragon's breath' is a neat little fic. It's implicitly a take on 'Ochako has One for All,' or more accurately that izch share One for All, which is a common idea in izch fandom, but one which I feel the ship fandom often executes poorly. There's so much thematically necessary to touch on with that idea, and so much of izch fandom is consumed by juvenile power fantasies, instead. The curse, such as it were, of being into a ship popular with cishet men. If only that was not the case, we might be free of so much trash harem and 'overpowered Deku' fic that clutters the tag.

I plan to finish writing this fic sometime in 2024, as I meander through my ever-growing list of ideas for 'dark star.' It's the kind of series I can write forever and ever, as it's an anthology, not something that requires heavy linear reader investment. You'll probably enjoy it more if you read it in the order it was written, if only because that's the logical way to read nearly anything, but you don't have to.

I do find it curious that this was the most popular of the original few 'dark star' fics. It makes me wonder what about it is so appealing. Is it that people are craving 'izch fantasy AU?' In the time between when I first wrote it and now there have been several notable, popular izch fantasy AUs, mostly by the always wonderful Rainglows (@leahfrog), which I think you also ought to read. Perhaps people just have a mighty, unfulfilled need for izch fantasy, or perhaps 'dragon's breath' resonated with them specifically. It's hard to say, really; no one talks to me much about the things I write. I wonder sometimes if I am scary!

And don't worry. We'll come back to Rainglows' fantasy AUs for 'dark star,' soon enough.

But if you like BNHA fantasy AUs, I'd love to hear about it! So if you enjoyed 'dragon's breath,' please let me know! Or if you didn't, I don't mind hearing why. I hope you have something intelligent to say, rather than boring pro-/anti- discourse stuff or 'your ship is bad,' though. These fics are for adults, and I expect you to engage with them like adults.

Have a nice day.

#izuocha #izch #dkch #izuku midoriya #ochako uraraka #bnha #mha #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #dark star - an izch anthology #dragon's breath #fanfic #cw: noncon #cw: misogyny #cw: arranged marriages #cw: teratophilia #cw: dubcon

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rabbit-of-mugenri · 1 year

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I wonder, what do you ship in Len'en?

Oh hey, you're the one who made the Fanfic Discord server right? This is Starrot Vanity! And I finally made a Tumblr for Len'en stuff 'cause the hyperfixation is back I caved in and wanted a larger space for my headcanons/AUs that Discord couldn't provide. You've asked me this question before, but for the audience at home (also so I can elaborate on some of them):

Ooookay, so, this is a bit of a complicated question to answer, since the ships I'm interested in on a relationship analysis level and the ships that I find think would make a good couple are two separate circles. Not to mention there's a third, equally separate circle consisting of ships that aren't actually ships in the romantic sense, more in a platonic/"they have a really good dynamic" sense.

So I'll split this into threes parts: Ships That are Good, Ships That are Interesting (but please for the love of God don't emulate the behaviours of these ships they're unhealthy as fuck), and Platonic Ships.

(Also content warning in the second section for abusive relationships and Suzumi being Suzumi)

Ships That are Good

AkaYabu

This is just a pure, simple "idiots in love" ship, with a dash of "no homo" since they're just friends. So what if they tuck a homie in bed, give their homie a little kiss sometimes, that's just what bros do!

...As you can see, the main conflict in this ship is that both of them think the other sees them as just a friend, alongside their own denial about being in love. Doubly so in Hooaka's case: Why should Yabusame be interested in them when they have Tsubakura? Hooaka can tell the two have a deep, complex relationship with each other, and they don't want to intrude. Which leads to...

YabuTsuba

Oh boy, these two. Yabusame has a deep, unwavering loyalty to Tsubakura that neither know exactly why. Tsubakura's especially confused by this, but at the same time they need that. After all the pain and suffering and death they've gone through, they need someone who's just there. never asking why like everyone else.

(As for how these two ships are resolved, usually one is more down played than the other. So for example, if the focus of something is on YabuTsuba, then Hooaka simply sees Yabusame as a friend. Occasionally though, I'm reminded that Yabusame has two hands.)

TsuruTen

This one's interesting, since it's essentially YabuTsuba in reverse. Or, to put it another way, Tsurubami is (ironically) a more human Yabusame. Whereas Yabusame's reasons for staying by Tsubakura is shrouded in enigma, Tsurubami's reasons for staying by Tenkai is much more simple: Tenkai represented a alliance with Azumaterasu, a barrier workshop rumoured to have been founded by a god.

But Tsurubami began to feel that Tenkai represented much more than that; Tenkai was a way to starve off the loneliness that came part and parcel with ruling Mugenri. Tenkai added colour to their world, and soon Tsurubami realized that they didn't want to use them as a pawn, they wanted a friend.

Ships That are Interesting (but please for the love of God don't emulate the behaviours of these ships they're unhealthy as fuck)

HibaTsugu

So like, there's no canon basis as to how badly Hibaru treated Tsugumi, but in my headcanon it's pretty badly my dude.

Both of them are old as balls, but while Hibaru has seen shit, Tsugumi was oddly spared from most of the horrors living for hundreds of years has. Perhaps out of luck, perhaps out of a preference for plants over people. They heard of Tsurubami and their dictatorship, though, and they weren't fond of that.

Neither was Hibaru. And so, the two of them paired together in an effort to take down the Senri Shrine. Along the way, the two became friends, possibly even more.

And then the final confrontation happened, wherein the pair learned the truth behind Mugenri, its purpose. Hibaru's response? Snap Tsugumi's wings and leave them behind.

Adding on to this, Hibaru's got like a thousand years of moral decay to work with, versus Tsugumi's somewhat sheltered life. How fine were things, truly?

Suzumi + Shitodo (SuzuAo, SuzuAka, SuzuKuro)

Sure, Tsubakura-sama was their main target, but Suzumi can work on multiple projects at once. And, well, hurting those close to them also counts towards Tsubakura-sama's suffering, doesn't it? Since Yabusame's too...strange in a way that Suzumi doesn't like, that leaves the Shitodo family.

Kuroji's their main target, being the one closest to Tsubakura-sama. And oh, how close they are to the real thing! How beautiful it is to see their normally aloof behaviour break down, crying and begging for their life! Alas, their only a pale imitation to the great Tsubakura, so they're soon disposed of.

Hooaka, now there's an interesting one! They play dumb, but Suzumi knows better. It's just so fun to push their buttons, see what causes them to drop the act and show a more serious side. It's like a gift only they get to see!

And Aoji, oh, Aoji. They're pretty, they're in tune with nature, they're small and quiet and just a little slow on the uptake. What isn't there to love? Just cute enough to kill.

SuzuTsuba

I...don't actually know what to add here that hasn't been said before. Suzumi is their own warning.

Platonic Ships

Hooaka and Kuroji

Man, these two. These two. They care for each other, they want to protect the other, everything the do for the other is out of love. It's just their definition of showing appreciation for the other is so covered in layers of irony and an inability to be honest that the other misunderstands and assumes that the other just hates them.

A tragedy, isn't it?

The rest of the Shitodo's

Honestly the dynamics of all the Shitodo's is just so good. They're all varying degrees of dysfunctional, but at the end of the day they all care about each other. It's just...a struggle to get any of them to admit it.

The Fujiwara's

Speaking of dysfunctional families that still love each other at the end of the day, how about Mugenri's own home-grown Fujiwara's? Possibly even more of a mess compared to the Shitodo's, since murder's on the table for dealing with family scuffles.

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polkadotpatterson · 11 months

Note

4 20 31!

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

In terms of blb fic ideas I've had the longest and still haven't written, it's probably the Dot Gets Incinerated Instead Of Jaylen AU... I did plan on finally writing it for the zine jam last year, but there was too much else going on and it never happened. Honestly it's not one I think about often these days, so I can't say it's giving me Existential Dread, but man it would be nice to actually write it sometime lol

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

Definitely a popular answer, but gosh I love found family. Also idk if it's an actual trope but I sure do love writing characters who are learning how to be people and how to be loved :') also strong platonic relationships!

31. tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

It took me a long time to ever write Amos Melon bc I was worried I wouldn't be able to do her justice, but once I started I was like oh man why didn't I do this sooner she is SO FUN! such a delightful balance of cheerful and unhinged. she will casually tell you all the weirdest messed up science facts while smiling about it :) here's a little moment from one of my main projects rn

Amos leads you to a cavern that's dark except for several softly glowing patches on the walls and floor. Upon closer inspection, it does indeed seem to be moss. “That stuff's carnivorous?” You frown. “It looks so cushy and… approachable.” “That's what it wants you to think,” Amos says solemnly. “The light attracts the bugs, making them think it's a safe haven, and then --” she snaps her fingers. “Boom. Dead, just like that.” You eye the moss carefully. “But it couldn't kill a person, right?” “If you ran into enough of it? Sure. I've heard there can be entire caves full of it, though I haven't seen anything like that here. You follow the glow, hoping it'll lead you out of the dark, but it's just leading you deeper and deeper into its trap, and then you stumble and fall right into it, a thousand tiny little mouths biting into you, tendrils holding you tight so you can't escape, covering your mouth so no one will ever hear you scream…” she flashes an unsettlingly bright smile. “You want to help me grow some of it?” “You trying to kill someone?” “No one in particular,” she says cheerfully. “I'm just studying it."

#thank you!#answering moistly #leonstamatis

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jadelavender1301 · 1 year

Text

“You know, it is good to be out amongst the humans every once in a while.” Renee glares and Andrew while Andrew glares at yet another man too drunk to avoid running into him.

Andrew doesn’t bother responding, and the two of them stand in silence for several seconds till Renee decides on her second approach.

“Maybe you will learn something from them.”

“There is nothing they could teach me.”

Andrew has seen humans. He has been around, observing, for thousands of years. He has seen the nonsensical patterns of life. Humans think and act in ways he has never understood. He has done this with Renee before: follow her as she reaps the dead. None of them are ever ready to go. Death is just as natural as birth, yet it is feared. All so they can continue the inane act of living. Still, he didn’t lie to his sister, it’s just that he doesn’t believe the humans have any logical explanations to give to him, rather than Andrew already knowing everything there is to know about them.

She opens her mouth to retaliate, but pauses when a voice pierces through the loud chatter of the pub.

“I’ve seen death. I know what death is.”

It wasn’t hard to find the source of the voice. He was standing, one foot stood on the seat at his table, a mug in his hand, though he didn’t look even slightly intoxicated.

“Death it… is stupid.” the man continues. Andrew doesn’t know what to direct his focus to: The man’s words, or his face. “Nobody has to die. The only reason people die is because everyone dies it. You all just go along with it. But not me. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to die.”

The owner of the voice holds his mug up with a wide triumphant grin that showed off a single dimple in his left cheek. His eyes are a bright blue, easy to see even with a quarter of the room between the two of them. His hair is an almost unnatural type of red and falls too far down his face, though he doesn’t even seem to notice whenever it covers his eyes. Andrew wonders how he hadn’t spotted the man sooner.

And he wants to live, he says. In a voice that sounds like a song, this man says he never wants to die.

“Neil Josten,” Renee informs him, because Death knows everyone who will eventually knock on its door. “I could grant his wish.” She latches onto this third approach—low hanging fruit in Andrew’s opinion.

“Death comes for every man.” The man closest to Neil Josten responds.

“You don’t know that.” His confidence doesn’t wane in the slightest. “I might get lucky—there’s always a first time. There’s so much to do, so many things to see.”

Third times a charm they say. Andrew clenches his jaw and caves in.

“Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?”

“You could find out.” Renee responds with her soft serene smile that says you gave her exactly what she wanted. More flies with honey and what not.

“He won’t last a century before he’s begging for death.”

She looks back to Andrew from Neil, allowing her smile to hit him full force. “Are you going to tell him, or should I?”

-------

The Sandman AU no one asked for and no one wanted

#andreil #the foxhole court #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #renee walker #all for the game fanfic #fanfic #ao3

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lifeofkaze · 2 years

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Happy FFWF!!! ✨

I heard that someone planned out a story this morning… what inspired this one, and how does it relate thematically to your other stories?

Happy FFWF 💛💛💛 You just always know what I want to ramble about, don't you?

So, the thing that has finally clawed its way from the bottom of my Story Vault into the light is a concept I've had for way over a year now. It's another short AU - shocking - and this time it's set in the world of The Witcher. As always when it gets dark and gritty, Ava put her foot down and demanded she get it, so here we are now.

Atm, the AU has the working title "The Lesser of Two Evils" and looks to be around 8 chapters long. As to how it relates to Ava's themes, it is a story about morality and the thousand shades of grey it comes in, and how there is no pure good and no pure evil. The Witcher universe in general has a very strong theme of people serving their own interests first and foremost, and how that can be the death of idealism, and whether or not following a higher ideal is foolish or noble.

The initial inspiration for the Witcher AU comes from my annual obsession I have with this world/lore as soon as autumn hits. I always loved stories where folklore is brought to life, which is the foundation Sapkowski based the Witcher stories on. Especially Slavic/Eastern European folktales hold my heart in that regard, but why that is I have no idea.

So, it was either plunging back into gaming (ain't nobody got time for that) or finally caving and starting the AU. When @whatwouldvalerydo sent me a Trick ask with the prompt Full Moon and I found an abandoned idea in my story vault with that title that could be converted to fit this AU, my downward spiral began...

#ffwf #witcher au #ava campbell #charlie weasley #sorry for being rambly and unstructured #I haven't had coffee yet

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jenniferchaulam · 1 year

Text

/adding on to the previous post, short story idea (draft plot only, anws)

There is no violence, but depictions of uncomfortable stuffs so. I'd just wanted to censor this.

tags: Alhaitham, Kaveh, Wanderer has PTSD BUT I dont know if my depictions of PTSD is accurrate, please tell me if im just writing stereotypes, mentions of anesthesia awareness/surgery with no anesthesia, Wanderer has a mechanical heart, Modern-ish AU, just regular sumeru gang bonding, OOC? maybe? i did it best i could-

The world was in complete darkness. Machinery beeping. Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep. Lights buzzing. People mumbling incomprehensible things. Metals clanking. The smell felt sterile and clean. It felt like a thousand ants on his body.

Wanderer felt awake, but his body was not. As if a sleep paralysis demon was pressing his entire body, and he could not move an inch.

A sharp piercing pain came right as his chest. The room stench of fresh organs. The thousands of ants moved as if he was their cave. He tried to scream, to twitch, to shook off whatever was slicing him-

He jerked awake in cold sweat.

------------------------

He can barely hold himself together as he trembly walks out his room. These nightmares are nothing new, but Wanderer can never get over them. Maybe a cup of tea will help.

"It's never happening again. Pull yourself together", he told himself. He steadies his hand, which was shaking uncontrollably. "I can not be weak".

He felt his mechanical heart pulsing through his entire body, and it made his breath slow and heavy. Nahida went to help the children's hospital, but if she was here she would have immediately notice him limping out the bunk bed the moment he was awake. Personally, Wanderer felt it is utterly embarrasing, and he would rather have a million nightmare than to sit in therapy with her at midnight.

That said, he was not the only one in this flat.

-----------------------

Kaveh needed a place to stay and finish his deadline, since his roommate thinks he's "Too noisy" for his liking. When Nahida asked if Wanderer agrees, he said he has no opinion on who she would want to host in her house. Now everytime Kaveh has to finish a deadline, he just brings Mehrak over to the flat next door, along with a bit of coffee.

So anyways, Kaveh got startled by Wanderer's very loud scream and is currently very concerned.

Wanderer groans when he got to the living room and saw a messy table with a sleep-deprived blond man.

"Are you alright, Hat Guy?", Kaveh asked without looking off his table.

No response. Wanderer is still trembling from the shock and barely wants to answer. He went straight to the cupboard for tea.

"I heard you scream, and I have to say it startled me as well. I bet Al Haitham next door could hea-"

"Wait-"

Wanderer pause. The overwhelming dread that he did not woke up quietly.

"What did you say?", he asked slowly.

Kaveh lift his eyes off his work. Hat Guy's voice sounded trembly, and he notice that the short guy is full of sweat. Like he was struggling to stand. He threw a death stare towards Kaveh.

"Ah, I'm sure its nothing". Kaveh decides its best not to worry him. "It's okay, I won't tell anyone about this either, if you're uncomfortable."

Wanderer let out a huff. At least this blondie is too friendly to tell, and this secret will be safe. He went back to looking for a mug for his tea.

A sharp stinging flashback hit when he reached out for the mug. The flickering tick of the water boiler. Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

"No, this isn't- I have used this many times-"

His chests tightens. He can't breathe. He can not breathe. A sharp knife pierce through his body. Ants. So many ants crawling. He let out a small, sharp scream. His arm and chest felt like it was being broken to pieces, just like the mug that fell of his grip.

"Ha-- Gu--?"

Sounds turned into a single ringing noise. Then it felt like constant beeping of machinery. He can hear the buzzing of the lights. Many hands were on top of him touching him in different places, and he can't move. Everything stings.

---------------------------

"Hey, Hat Guy! Oh thank archons you opened your eyes", said Kaveh while shaking him awake.

The short guy is shivering as if this room is freezing despite being in Sumeru, and his breathing is irregular. His shirt went from soaking to dripping with sweat.

"You should continue your work. I can take it from here", said another familiar male voice in green.

"Who invited you?", Wanderer scoffed at who is obviously Alhaitham.

"Yea, I thought you had earmuffs you can use to ignore everyone!", Kaveh followed up, "Get out off here!"

"And I thought your deadline was today, in 9 hours. Go back to work. It was too noisy anyways. Hat Guy screamed, and broke a mug, then scream again. Even the best earmuffs can't block those. If this happens again I can't get back to sleep."

Wanderer let out a groan. It felt like everyone knows he has a problem. That said, just like Kaveh describe, Alhaitham's attitude is similar to him. He bets this Scribe guy won't come if he didn't disturb him. This guy only cared for what benefits him.

"We have weighted blankets in our flat if you think this is PTSD", Alhaitham said while adjusting Wanderer's position. But Wanderer just kicks him instead.

"We do??????? How come I not know?"

"I have weighted blankets at MY flat if you think this is PTSD."

"I don't have PTSD", Wanderer said, while his entire body shivers uncontrollably, just to betray his words. He turned himself trying to reach the counter but with zero grip he slipped back onto the ground.

"Don't try to stand up quickly. I'm not an Amurta student, but-"

"But what, big H? What's stopping me to just stand up right now?"

Wanderer bounced himself up.

Only to quickly turn dizzy.

He hold himself at the counter-

Alhaitham ignored him struggling to stand.

"You can just follow my lead. Breathe in", he said.

"Not in a million years." Wanderer just stayed on the floor. Its not worth it if he stood up and the water boiler reminds him of anything. He turns his back against it.

"Suit yourself"

Alhaitham left Hat Guy where he was, and starts sweeping off the broken pieces of the mug. He continue to brew the tea that was left already on the counter.

The bitter smell of tea... Wanderer relaxes himself. Tiredness from lack of sleep creeps up to him, and the smell drifted him into closing his eyes.

----------------------

Kaveh gets to continue his project, in peace. Once Hat Guy went back to sleep Alhaitham just sorta left him there. He did went and get some weighted blankets.

"Kaveh. Is there anything you know and haven't told me?",he asked while leaving the folded blankets right on the floor.

"No. You saw everything, really. He looked like he saw a ghost, yelled and jerked himself awake. I am really worried for him though."

The Scribe nods and left the flat, and Kaveh finally finished and sent his project. He went to take a peak at Hat Guy.

He was kinda left on hard cold tiles, but his face looked peaceful. Kaveh decided he won't leave him like this, and started carrying the shortie back to his bed. There was a bunk bed, so he assumes Hat Guy sleeps on the one with his giant Inazuman style head disk. He pours hot tea into a thermos, and left it next to his bed, with a note: "Hot tea - K"

Finally, Kaveh took the weighted blankets left on the floor.

When he got back however, Hat Guy was wide awake. He was panting. Hands covering his mouth and nose, preventing himself from screaming. He quickly unplugged the ticking clock and threw it away. It made a loud bang. On the side of Alhaitham's room.

"Oh, archons, Hat Guy! Are you alright?"

Hat Guy stared at Kaveh, wide-eye and full of tears.

"Here. I made tea. And some weighted blankets. I actually have no idea how these work. Just cover them over, I think."

Wanderer just did as he was told.

"Hey, don't you usually sleep with the Dendro Archon? Maybe it will be better if you just come over my flat and sleep with m-"

"You think your tiny bed can hold two people?", Alhaitham said, startling the two, "but, you do have a point. Hat Guy, if you want I can give you a sleeping rug in my flat."

He agrees.

For some reason. Just this once, three reminders is too many to bear. He wants to sleep in peace.

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pt2 coming? i still have ideas i just cant write them-

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