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#someone needs to write this au
thyandrawrites · 1 year
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If dabi and hawks each had their own youtube channel which one of them do you think would be canceled first?
You know what? They would accidentally cancel themselves as an unplanned side effect of their attempt to deplatform the other. Backfiring galore. And they also absolutely blame each other for their poor social media managing skills
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mobius-m-mobius · 6 months
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#just a wizard gentleman and his butler 🪄🎩
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strangersatellites · 9 months
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i’m not the biggest fan of soulmark au’s but hear me out.
au where your soulmate’s signature shows up on your hip on your sixteenth birthday.
most people are able to either read theirs clearly, or decipher what it says and then set off on a search for their other half.
when steve turns sixteen he’s anxiously awaiting his own when he’s met with the sight of a bat on his hip.
he spends years looking for a connection, something that might give him a clue.
it’s not until several years later when he moves away from home that he sees the bat.
he sees it scrawled across the bottom of a beautiful mural in the city and realizes his soulmate is an artist.
and an anonymous one at that.
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
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The thing in her cargo hold is looking at her again.
Really, Gem should have sold it by now. If the fishmonger had refused to take it--and really, it seems unlikely, Gem thinks, that the fishmonger would refuse to take it; he has taken and carved up and made meals of far stranger fish than one with a human face and hands and torso--she could have easily sold it to the man on the train, who takes exotic catches for his zoo. She could have even taken it to Grian; it's not a mending book, but it's the sort of thing he'd like to make fun of her for catching, instead of anything she's after.
Really, she should have. The longer she keeps the thing in her cargo hold, the more it starts to look properly human to her. She should know better. She has caught far stranger fish, and none of them have been human. It's another trick these seas have been playing on her, she thinks.
Long nights alone do that to a woman.
She ignores it. Instead, she opens the lid of the tank and starts depositing salmon. "It's a really weird request, that I keep them alive the whole time. You won't eat them, right?" Gem says, knowing the thing in her cargo hold can't answer. "Because if you eat them, this time, I really am going to sell you to the fishmonger. Or maybe I can figure out how to get fillets from you on my own? I've certainly eaten weirder fish..."
The thing in the cargo hold continues to stare. It has eyes that look like little moons, and brown hair, and it is smiling for some reason. Gem huffs.
"Don't give me that look! You are a fish. I am a fisherman. If mere human faces stopped me from doing my job, I would have gone mad a long time ago."
The thing in the cargo hold smiles wider. The lights flicker. Gem rolls her eyes and finishes putting salmon in the tank. As though to spite her, the thing in the cargo hold immediately lashes out, grabbing one in the claws on her otherwise-human hands and then tearing it apart with razor-sharp teeth. Blood rises on the water. Gem sighs.
"I have a harpoon in here somewhere, or at least a very sharp knife," she says to herself. She doesn't really want to use her nice knife, the one she always keeps on her belt, but she ought to have another knife around with which she can finish the job, right?
The lights flicker and go out. When she looks across at the tank, there are two silvery-moon eyes looking at her.
Gem pulls a wire. Gem turns the lights back on. She takes a deep breath.
"I really should have sold you by now, really. If the fishmonger won't take you, then the zookeeper would love you," Gem says.
The radio crackles. Gem startles. Very, very few people ever contact her on the shipboard radio, but if she's getting a signal, that's more important than a grudge match with a fish. She heads over to answer the call.
An amalgamation of voices responds:
YOU ARE FUNNY. I HAVE A MESSAGE. A DELIVERY. YOU'VE TRAPPED ME THOUGH.
Slowly, Gem turns around to the thing in the cargo hold.
"This won't stop me from treating you like a fish," she says. "If messages from the ocean stopped me--"
A terrible, crackling laugh sounds from the radio.
I AM THE MOON'S PEARL. YOU WILL NOT HOLD ME FOREVER. WE WILL SEE WHO EATS WHO.
Gem wags her finger. "We'll see, for sure, as long as you don't eat my salmon. That man in the fish-scaled suit was VERY insistent, you know."
TELL ME MORE.
"You're tying up my radio. What if there's another ship? What if there's something important?"
OH GEM. YOU KNOW THERE WON'T BE.
Gem swallows.
The thing in the cargo hold is staring at her.
"I need to sleep. I need to go to shore," she says.
YOU WON'T, the radio says.
She won't.
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overtake · 14 days
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2022 // 2024
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baeshijima · 26 days
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as if i dont have enough wips to think abt, the thought of figure skater!blade is in my head....
like,,,, just imagine him in the figure skating attire, in a form-hugging black muscle tee which flatters his physique and grey sweats during practice, in a pretty black or navy body shirt with matching slim-fit trousers — should there be any accessories other than his signature mismatch pair of earrings, it would consist of gold trimmings and crimson accents for small, intricate detailings, sometimes a few sequins or crushed jewels would be added depending on the genre of performance.
(oftentimes he will silently revel in your awe at each of his new costumes, his confidence boosting at your approval. if you're there to watch his practice in the rink, he will go the extra mile to show off in hopes of impressing you. if no one else is occupying the rink, he will skate his way over to you before taking your hand, pulling you along with him after getting you into your own pair of skates, his hand entangled with yours as he gently spins you into his arms. he doesn't let go of you; if you fall and tumble onto the ice, then he will gladly go down with you if it means he can still hold you.)
imagine him with his hair in differing styles; sometimes he will leave it loose and flowy, other times he will have it styled in a half-bun or ponytail. during competitions he will have a hair ornament more often than not, one which compliments his chosen costume and genre, with fans wondering how secure it must be to not fall out with all the jumps and spins he does.
(if you ask, he will let you play and fiddle with his hair. he finds himself relaxing at your slightest of touch, the tenseness of his muscles melting away from your warmth, scent, and laughter. sometimes he will ask for you to be the one who styles his hair before a competition, proudly wearing the hair ornament and style you yourself chose for him. if anything, he finds himself performing better when there is a remnant of you with him out on the rink.)
imagine him in a big puffer jacket, his mask-covered face tucked behind the collar with his hands stuffed into the pockets as he makes his way to the venue. it is all-white with black trimmings and stops just below his knees. there's not a moment where he isn't seen without it — as he walks to the venue, as he waits for his turn to come up, as he goes about in public, as he sits in the 'kiss and cry' awaiting his score from the judges, as he slouches against his chair in the changing room before and after his performance; the only time he is seen without his signature puffer jacket is when he is on the rink.
(blade likes the sight of you in his clothes, his puffer jacket in particular. he likes the way it swallows you in your entirety, the way your eyes shine and laughter tinkles with delight makes his heart swell when showing him how far past your hands the sleeves go, and the way both your conjoined hands easily fit inside his pocket, to name a few. but most of all, blade likes the way your scent lingers on the fabric, eventually developing a habit of burying his nose along the inside collar to bask in what remains when you can't be with him pre-competition. in those moments, he makes a mental reminder to have you wear it again so that your lingering perfume can refresh.)
yeah... figure skater!blade.....
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winterspiderpurrs · 6 months
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Okay but Cinnamon roll omega Peter Parker who is normally so docile and kind and shy
Going absolutely feral, throwing punches at anyone verbally abusing his Alpha. And his Alpha just picks him up and carries him off.
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hypostatic-oath · 4 months
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Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry
I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.
Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.
SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW
Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.
Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.
A shimmering light crosses the sky.
Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.
Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?
That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.
She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?
Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...
It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.
She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.
She can still hear you calling.
The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.
It's both relieving and heartbreaking.
At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.
Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.
He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.
Wait, Furina!
She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.
She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.
She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...
She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.
Foçalors, come home.
Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.
The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.
No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.
Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."
It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.
But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.
"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"
The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.
It hurts.
With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.
The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.
So she does what she can do.
Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.
When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.
She's sorry.
She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."
The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?
Furina still feels like it might be hers.
The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.
Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.
Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.
She considers it.
She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.
She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.
Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.
She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.
Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.
She's on trial.
________
She's crying.
She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.
If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.
She doesn't witness your relief.
Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.
You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.
Not about her.
Not after knowing the truth.
You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.
Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.
So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.
You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.
You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.
After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.
The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.
"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.
"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.
"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."
Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.
"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.
"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."
The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.
There is so much to do...
_________
Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.
Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?
Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.
She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."
Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.
Furina. Come home.
You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.
Now, she simply looks up.
"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.
You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.
The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.
Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.
You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.
You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.
Welcome home, Furina.
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non-un-topo · 5 months
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Young adults kaysanova?
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bensoloshrugged · 8 months
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Victorian Reylo AU
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jtl-fics · 11 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 15
PREVIOUS
The thing is… FF is aware that he should probably be medicated. You might be saying well isn’t he taking his ulcer medication? The answer is yes he is and when he is getting close to missing a dose Nicky’s usually the one that texts him with six frowny face emojis asking if he took his meds (they have a system, he takes his meds and then he texts Nicky)
No, he knows that he should probably get on something for his anxiety. Betsy has offered to get started on getting him on the right cocktail, his grandma thinks it’s a good idea, and Nicky has offered to get him as much weed as he needs to chill out, he knows a guy. Andrew is probably only going to stab him and threaten him not actually hunt him for sport, in his moments of clarity he can accept and understand that.
But there is nothing in this world that he wants less than to get back on anxiety medication. The world had been grey, it muted everything in the world for him, he faded completely into the background of his own life, and he couldn’t even grieve-
He was almost thankful for his step-dad’s sudden arrival in his life and how quickly his mom forgot about him to spend every waking moment she could on him and his children and then their children. It was two years of nothing and then his mom stopped picking up and refilling his prescription because it was too much of a hassle to keep picking up every month.
“He’s not anxious, see he’s fine. He doesn’t need it anymore.”
The withdrawal and the emotions that came afterwards had been hellish. He’d collapsed into his Grandma’s arms and begged her not to call his mom. He spent an entire month of summer vacation feeling like he was going to die and when he got back he found that no one had even missed him.
He swallowed the hurt, all of his emotions felt so much stronger now that he’d lost them for two years. If he has reactions like he’d had before he knows his mom will put him back on the medication.
The town is small and everyone talks. He knows about the dog walker’s poop flinging scandal, he knows about how the butcher’s left pinky got put back on wrong when he’d cut it off, he knows that the kid down the street paid $40 for a bag of oregano that he thought was weed, he knows that lil susie is in counseling because a girl should probably not be establishing cult rituals around her barbies.
He can’t react, can’t let people know he’s dying from anxiety because his math teacher sighs when he hands over his test. Can’t let anyone know that he has to put his head between his legs and take deep breaths before he can go into the cafeteria. His only solace is that all of the foreign language teachers love him, it’s easier to accept a compliment or comment in a language his family doesn’t use.
His step family treat him like the guards outside of Buckingham. Anything for a reaction y’know? He tells himself he does not care and for the most part he doesn’t.
He signs up for Exy in middle school because he just wanted something to do and it was the sport that had the same meeting days as his grandma’s bowling league. She picks him up from practice and they get ice cream together afterwards, she’s the only thing he has since Great Gran passed not too long after he got free of the medication.
He still feels her fingers checking behind his ears on occasion, a joke now that he’s off his meds referencing when he was too zoned out to care about hygiene. He still remembers her looking at him and feeling like she was seeing more than just him, “You’re a Smith. The last one when me and my daughter go. We’ll all be with you whenever you need us.” She promises.
He thinks it’s just respectful to get her favorite scent when he needs her help. He was raised to be respectful.  Lavender still makes him think of her and he hopes his grandma left some on her grave recently.
He knew he’d have to wait to go to college. His mom is putting on the pressure now that he’s 18 saying he will have to pay rent even though Greg is older and definitely isn’t. He plays Exy and thinks about how he’ll handle his life between 18 and 25, he puts all his anxiety into the game and maybe the coach notices something.
He must have noticed something.
The Foxes don’t offer positions to kids who don’t have something going wrong for them.
Coach Wymack and Dan Wilds wouldn’t be there in his little bum fuck nowhere town in Washington if his coach hadn’t sent a tape and an explanation.
He could admit that he knew about the Foxes. He looked up to the vice captain a fair bit not just for his game but also…well the Butcher was national news. Vice Captain Neil’s story was all over the news and maybe he was just a little bit in awe of someone who could stand his ground after all of that. Watching Vice Captain Neil Josten give shit to every last reporter who gave him any shit? Inspiring.
He just didn’t think it’d be a good fit for him.
He’s not like the rest of the Foxes. Dan talks about them all in broad terms, how they’re all fighting to become something and grow beyond the unfairness that was out of their control. FF is tough to convince but he’s a pretty good defensive dealer, Dan and Coach Wymack both want him.
Dan eventually has to go because she has an interview for a coaching position out this way but Coach Wymack just hands over the rental car keys and Coach Wymack stays.
Coach Wymack stays and they keep talking. FF talks about everything and Wymack eventually just says “Well, you’re still here despite all of that aren’t you? Sounds like a fighter to me. I think you’ve got what it takes to carry that weight with some help and I can promise that you won’t have to deal with those jerks past your high school graduation. You’re not going to be the first Fox who I help out from under some asshole parents and you won’t be the last.”
So he signs a contract, he’s 18 he can do that AND buy cigarettes now (he won’t. That’s how Gran lost gramps when dad was still young but he COULD. Much like he COULD go into the town’s only sex toy shop but that would be back to his grandma faster than the cigarette purchase to be honest and he isn’t THAT interested in what’s in there.)
He finishes up school but the assistant coach is a friend of his step dad and mentions that he’s signed to the Foxes. It’s just one week between his graduation and when Coach Wymack is coming to grab him
Suddenly he exists in his house for the first time since they all moved into it after the wedding and it’s the WORST. The want things, they want promises, they want assurances, they want to pretend and act like he’s always been there.
He flees to his Grandma’s house and texts Coach Wymack asking if there’s ANY chance he can get picked up early because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk if he calls the man.
Coach Wymack comes for him and shoulders him past his ‘family’ to the rental car but the panic attack he sees in the car ride to the airport when his family’s car follows them all the way to the rental drop off means that he HAS to see Betsy.
Betsy is nice. Betsy teaches him how to breathe through stuff. Betsy teaches him how to ground himself in reality. Betsy tells him that the Starbucks girl probably doesn’t hate him. Betsy suggests he get on some medication.
He said No.
He’s scared out of his MIND in Palmetto but it’s better than-
He prefers to feel things.
Betsy tells him that it shouldn’t have been like that. His mother should have taken him back and gotten his prescription adjusted until it wasn’t like that.
He still declines.
Andrew gets suspicious about him knowing Russian after that game of Never Have I Ever and Nicky keeps almost letting it spill right by him. His stomach hurts the CVS girl keeps pepto for him behind the counter.
He still declines.
He prefers to feel things.
You can’t enjoy the thrill of a 100% on a Kanji Basics midterms without the anxiety of the Oral presentation. You can’t feel the true satisfaction of getting a blender for 25% off + 50 dollars of in-store credit without the flop-sweat of the searching eyes of a woman wearing PINK branded lounge wear. You can’t keep friends if you have no ability to empathize with them even if you’re worried you’re annoying them or ‘humble bragging’.
Fear is better.
Betsy tells him if he’s ever ready then she will help him. His Gran tells him she loves him. Nicky says “Look there’s a strain called White Russian. That’d be funny right?!”and FF agrees but declines to sample it.
Right now, as Nicky smudges eyeliner under his eyes and tugs at his shirt for the 80th time, he thinks it might actually be better to feel nothing.
He’d woken up from his…nap? He might have fainted actually? But he did it on a bed and it lasted for like 4 hours? So does that count as a nap? He wants to ask but also doesn’t want to worry anyone, maybe he could ask Aaron that if a Friend faints and doesn’t wake up for four hours is that a nap or a medical emergency? Just curious.
When he had emerged from Nicky’s room Captain Neil and Andrew had herded them all into the Maserati and they’d gone out and gotten McDonald’s for a late lunch. The only comment he had gotten when he’d asked for a happy meal (his stomach could not handle anything more) was whether or not he wanted the toy.
“Yes.” He answered panicked at the sudden question.
He got his Megamind toy, accidentally shone it into Aaron’s eyes when he pushed a button. “Shit that’s bright” before he apologized and shoved it in his jacket pocket.
They hung out at the house for the rest of the day.
They watched movies, played Mario Kart (how is Captain Neil this bad when his reflexes on the court are so good?) and did some homework. Andrew seemed to actually like the brownies which is why FF probably woke up from his... still haven’t asked Aaron if it’s a nap or a medical emergency.
He has a square and even at room temperature they taste great.
When it started to get dark they all went to go get ready. FF had gone to get whatever clothes Nicky had prepared on but had found himself sat on the man’s bed (so much glitter, seriously how can one bed have so much of it?) and Nicky holding a pencil to his eye and telling HIM not to flinch.
“Gonna have all the….” Nicky pauses and adopts a look on his face that means that he’s thinking incredibly hard about something. “Wait how have we been friends for MONTHS and I have no idea how you swing?” FF is caught off guard for a few moments because it’s the first time that Nicky has verbally confirmed that they are, in fact, friends and…
Wow.
That’s so nice.
He thought it was just Nicky’s innate inability to leave something to suffer needlessly that had the upperclassmen helping him. (FF has watched Nicky go out of his way to give cats food, turn turtles back onto their stomachs, and walk into traffic to stop cars so that a duck family could make it to a pond. He just sort of figured he was the same level of pathetic)
Wait.
What.
“Wait, what?”
“How do you swing?” Nicky repeats.
FF knows what he means but doesn’t want to. “With my left hand.” He responds and hopes Nicky drops it because the long and short answer is: he doesn’t know. He has no idea.
“Ohh dirty!” Nicky makes a jacking off motion with his left hand and FF feels embarrassed sweat cover his body, “NO! Don’t ruin my work!” Nicky yells fanning him with his hands so the eyeliner doesn’t run. “You know what I mean Smithy. Swing for girls, boys, both, neither? What am I working with here?” He asks wiping at FF’s cheek.
“I don’t…know.” He admits because deflecting is OBVIOUSLY not his strong suit. Twice in a row it’s brought up weird sex stuff.
“C’mon don’t be embarrassed. Even if you’re straight you’re obviously an Ally.” Nicky smiles.
“No it’s not…” he flushes okay he is embarrassed but that’s because he REALLY doesn’t know. Like how the hell did he get to college and have ZERO idea about what he’s attracted to or if he’s just not attracted to anyone? He’d been focused on not screaming for the last decade and that hadn’t really left a lot of room to consider how anyone looked. He’s getting used to having friends and three whole group chats (he’s bad at responding to them, overwhelmed by the idea that whatever he says can be revisited and picked apart forever but still, THREE!)
“I really have no idea.” He repeats.
Nicky blinks at him. “Okay well, college can be all about figuring that out then! No worries my sweet boy, we will figure this out.” Nicky pats his cheek.
He feels a little better.
“Alright, let’s go to Eden’s!”
Oh fuck that’s right.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
Per your requests:
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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you  didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
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mayfriend · 6 months
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the way the andrecateluke trio truthers took multiple hits to the face this episode, but also not. the way andre loved luke and still betrayed him, the way cate loved andre and luke both and betrayed them, the way in luke's last message he told them he loved them. the way the last thing luke said before he died was say he loved andre, and he was sorry. he was sorry. this story was always a tragedy. they were dead from the beginning
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bonefall · 28 days
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I personally like Thunder's prosthetic. Explained it to my friend (who does use a mobility device, a cane and wheelchair, and listens to me rant and infodump about BB) and they agreed, it's important to know that not every person needs what someone wants to give them. It's another example of "bad ableist person does a thing that hurts a disabled person because they are bad and ableist".
Clear Sky got Jagged Peak killed and would have killed Sunlit Frost! He would absolutely force his disabled son to be "normal" and present it like a privilege. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, it's special, why don't you want to be helped?"
Thunder Storm should toss it in Clear Sky's face. (I would say toss it into the river but we do not pollute waterways in this house)
Thank you for telling me this, and tell your friend I'm thanking them too! If they have anything else to add please forward what they have to say
Since BB!DOTC tackles some of the heaviest topics in the entire series because its canon equivalent is so dark, I think very carefully about what I do here and how I show it. I take feedback on its sensitive aspects very seriously. If I'm understanding the criticism properly, it's that I should avoid stigmatizing prosthetics by making sure Thunder Storm's not the only one with it-- which he's not! And I'll add even more.
I don't want to avoid something only because it's uncomfortable if the topic is important, and my portrayal is respectful. Ableism IS uncomfortable! There are some situations where a prosthetic is not wanted! I think the rejection of this particular one is both a good opportunity to show a type of ableism and ALSO is very fitting for the characters.
In BB!Clear Sky's mind, the villain, he's fixing an old mistake. He can't admit that he got Jagged Peak killed or take REAL accountability for it (though he will, occasionally, apologize insincerely), but deep in his bones, he knows what he did was cruel. He'll never tell anyone this because he doesn't really cognate it himself, but Thunder Storm NEEDS to take his gift.
If Thunder doesn't take it, it blows a hole in his newest story. You see, throwing Jagged Peak out was All That Could Have Been Done back then. It was a Tragedy and he simply Made A Hard Choice. He regrets it very much, But You Have To Understand.
But now? Now? Well, behold. Look at what he's accomplished since the tragic death of his little brother. His cats are well-fed, cared for, and stable enough to make such incredible advancements. If only Jagged Peak had been able to hold on longer, if only he could be here now, I could fix him.
Just like I can (MAKE YOU JUST LIKE ME) fix you.
"Everything I've ever done is for Jagged Peak. For Fluttering Wing. For you." Thunder Sky is SPECIAL, but if he rejects any gift, tries to turn down the "privileges" offered to him, in an instant that becomes ungratefulness and arrogance. He both forces him to be special, and then leverages it against him if it's rejected. "Spoiled brat, doesn't appreciate what I've worked so hard to give him."
It all goes back to him and his own guilt. He can NEVER be wrong. He can't accept his family doesn't have to be "normal" or reflect his own ability. He won't see himself as a bully, let alone a murderer. It was never about his son's comfort or finding out what Thunder Storm wants or needs, it was about his own ego.
...All that said I'm still taking feedback if there's anything else I should keep in mind, or if anyone has a counter point, especially if you also have experience here.
(In the interest of having a link trail for posterity, here's the critique/call for feedback this is in response to)
#ALSO also I will take suggestions on other characters who should have prosthetics#Sunlit makes sense and it will make a really nice character moment later for him to have one built#There's also an amputee in RiverClan few people talk about called Stonestream#I can give him one and bump him up into a bigger character. In BB he is the sibling of Willowshine#BB!DOTC#better bones au#Also just as a side note... I love writing BB!Skystar. My ire for the character comes from his redemption arc so I feel like I get to--#--write the character I WANTED to see#Same with Bramble in other BB arcs#cw ableism#tw ableism#ableism#They're fascinating in that they always have to see themselves as the victim or the hero#They believe every lie they tell.#If you ever catch them in a contradiction they will still try to find some way to turn it on you and YOUR lack of understanding.#Interestingly both of them are ableist. Sky's is just more obvious because he's LOUDLY bigoted.#But BB!Bramble is *notably* less close to Jay for a very sad and very subtle reason.#Jay just doesn't serve his ego like the others do until much later in his life.#unfortunately most bigotry is like that.#the type you have a hard time calling out because it's a deniable bias. the constant gaslighting of being part of a marginalized group#Maybe I need to address the criticism by adding a character with a prosthetic to THIS arc even earlier#Problem is that like... Thunder's small merc group is already full of disabled characters and their THING is forming in response to ableism#OH maybe I'll put someone in the Forest Cat group which is lead by Slash?#I need to finish that last book and then gather up all the cats for sorting into allegiances
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shattersstar · 8 months
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when my life is awful at least i can think of college basketball jason being a bit of a cocky shit around his friends/teammates and you’re just. not for it. like you get there’s ego involved in not only basketball, but sports in general, especially at this level, and jason’s a centre. he’s the biggest dude on the team and bound to b bit arrogant, yet it’s always during games when showboating matters. so when you’re out and jason’s being insufferable? you leave.
well you tell him to cut the attitude first and jason’s like what attitude? while knowing exactly what you’re talking about. it’s just hard to turn that side off when all these (big ass) men bring it out of him.
and when you give him the chill out or i’m going home ultimatum, jason just replies with “i don’t care. leave.” you both know it’s a lie but you’re like oh? say less.
when he realized you did in fact leave, jason thought youd come back or at least return to his apartment which you had basically been living out of. but no, you’re ignoring him fully until he shows up at your apartment door, he looks exhausted and eyes wide like a sad puppy left in the rain. it made you grin.
he’s all awkward and apologetic, it reminds you of when you first became friends. when he first fell for you. and jason isn’t dumb, he knows he pushed you but all you do is smile at him, pulling his 6’7 self down to your level by his collar. jason’s all smiley until you tap his cheek and warn “act or speak to me like that again and watch what happens. to you and to us :)” he’s like mark me down as scared and horny but got it boss 🫡
edit: rb/interact with this version pls <3 (jason gets bullied more i promise it’s worth it)
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bonebrokebuddy · 2 years
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“I don’t understand why you’re so adamant on asking me this, Hal. I just mentioned to Barry that I talked with the head Easter Bunny once and now everyone keeps asking me if I think the Easter Bunny is real! Why do people keep asking me? I’ve met them. I don’t understand why I have to ‘believe’ in the Easter Bunny for them to be real! They exist!”
Hal put his hands up and stepped back, clearly not expecting the frustrated and somewhat hostile response of Billy who slumped back into his seat, which was slightly less satisfying in his bulkier body, and began running his hands through his hair.
The repetition of being interrogated over a simple comment was not only bewildering but had gotten increasingly more annoying to answer as somehow the members of The Justice League, the literal most powerful group of people on earth, didn’t seem to understand a piece of basic knowledge.
Billy was not only very tired of being asked the same thing but even more-so he wanted the laughing at his ordinary response to stop.
He paused and looked Hal dead in the eyes then began to speak in the most dead tone Hal had ever heard from the usually cheerful man.
“Hal, I know the Easter Bunnies are real because I had to spend two, very long weeks personally overseeing the creation of their union that made sure they no longer routinely experience unsafe working conditions and helped establish 8 hour working days so they no longer get overworked or are required to do 80 hour weeks prepping for Easter and get punished for doing less or don’t get paid”,
Billy’s previously slow, blank tone grew more rushed and frustrated as he went on,
“I mean, I didn’t even do much other than sit there and look intimidating by throwing around lightning sometimes and make sure the Easter chicks didn’t do any funny business or tamper with the legal process!
It was in all the papers in Fawcett! I had my picture taken with them and everything. But Hal. I can guarantee you that the Easter Bunny exists. Please. Please stop fucking asking me.” Finally done, Billy slumped onto the table with a loud clunk.
Hal stood there shocked for a moment. “Marvel, did you just imply there’s multiple easter bunnies and they established a form of government?!”
Billy, with seemingly tremendous emotional effort, lifted his head from the table by a few inches and looked Hal in the eyes with a pleading tone, “If I just say no, will you please stop asking me?”
“Absolutely not, now I have even more questions”
Billy let his head fall back onto the table with an even louder clunk and groaned.
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daughter-of-infinity · 9 months
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Has anybody thought about an IceMav AU where they were highschool sweethearts and Pete breaks Tom's heart before graduation bc Tom kept talking about not going to the Naval Academy so that he and Pete could stay together? Then they meet again, years later, at Top Gun and both of them are still heartbroken but Tom is angry-heartbroken and amps up his Iceman persona to 1000% while Pete is sad-heartbroken and keeps letting the mask of Maverick slip whenever Ice is around.
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