The I-Have-Feels-And-Commitment-Issues-Someone-Write-This-For-Me list
āVermintide 2 edition
Kruber x Kerillian
šæ That one time Kerillian caught Kruber bathing
(inspired by that half sentence in āHeroes Without Consequenceā, hinting that Kruber had washed himself)
šæ Angsty canon-world drama questioning what truly matters in this fading world
Denied craving, tension, lots of Pactsworn battles, a sprinkle of release, mythic finish.
šæ A modern human AU rom-com, to recover from the previous story
Burnt-out city gal Kerillian takes a summer vacation off the grid, and ends up surrounded by a bunch of village whackos in our heroesā persons. Cultural and culinary chaos ensues.
šæ Kruberās mortal injury makes Kerillian reconnect with her elvish grace to heal him
Because no matter how unhinged, elves do have a streak of spiritual eloquence. Which Kerillian has been neglecting in sake of a thicker armor against the world.
šæ Huntsman Kruber strays into Athel Loren while searching for his roots
After trespassing, he is put before an elvish trial to decide if he can live, and Kerillian stands up for him. Both souls heal unnoticed while idling in the hush of the trees. 98% forest ambience, 2% lore, colored by KruberxKerillian feels.
Saltzpyre x Sienna
š„ Sienna stands before her execution, take 1
Saltzpyre faces a wild Sigmarite cult hurrying her judgment. He needs to make a choice, revisit truths about Sigmarās meaning.
š„ Sienna stands before her execution, take 2
Saltzpyre now faces the Empireās Machinery, which doesnāt listen to variations of her story and her servitudeāit intends to process her speedily and mechanically, like hundreds of witches before and after. Since he willingly put her in there, it may be too late to reach after her now.
š„ The one in which Sienna needs rescuing
She is kidnapped and entrapped in a sorcerous arena, where her fire can burn freely without toll. She may or may not want to be back into her old world of restraint and draining consequences. Saltzpyre wonāt know the answer until he leads their team to finding her.
š„ Even more drama and soap
Saltzpyre has a head injury and amnesia. What remains of him then? How does he see the Ubersreik Five without the filter of doctrine? How does he perceive the Bright Wizard? And what happens when that collides with his returning memories?
š„ A rom-com with Shakespearean vibes
Sienna has a suitor! Quite a mediocre fella; she needs to restrain herā¦ rhapsodic behavior near him. Saltzpyre disapproves. For entirely practical and not at all emotional reasons, of course.
āNever have I ever experienced such hideous betrayal,ā Fandral announced brightly as the group strode across the grass field.
Most of his friends didnāt appreciate the optimism: the sun beamed down on their grouchy faces, casting deep shadows over their eyes. Loki alone seemed to be untouched by the gloom, wearing the blame like a freshly crowned king his new adornments.
They had been defeated by the neighbouring landās army solely because of the trickster princeās self-willed move ā much expectably after this many times, and yet never truly expected at the decisive moments.
Thor trod silently looking ahead, consumed by his shame-infested rage, not caring to lash out at his brother for the vile turn. Sif stared before herself with lips sealed tight as well. Only the Warriors Three debated the tragedy on the way, too busy or too heedless about the othersā lack of participation.
The maiden only spoke up within the palace, after the group disbanded and she was walking in the wake of the younger princeās proud strut.
āIād like to show my gratitude as soon as possible, if itās all right with you.ā
Lokiās smile widened.
His betrayal of the group, though a great jest in itself, seemed to happen at a whim ā but this time, peculiarly, he wasnāt the forger of the scheme.
That land was near the Warmaidenās homeland, and a lengthy interaction with them harboured the possibility of some secret coming out, one that Sif did not want anyone to know; at least not anyone in their circles. So she had come to Loki despite her generally valorous stand, asking him to help protect the knowledge from unwanted ears.
Not even Loki himself was able to get his hands on said knowledge: the notorious collector of valuable secrets got diverted from it with a single smooth promise in exchange.
And he wouldnāt resist it; why would he refuse the sweetest offer that had resided in his nightly dreams since boyhood?
He radiated enjoyment as he turned around to keep walking backwards a few paces.
āWhy, our ambition is alike, then.ā His hand reached for hers while he leaned to a column, pulling her closer and placing a languid kiss on top of her fingers. āI couldnāt wait a minute longer if I wanted to.ā
Her smirk was lukewarm as she stepped up to him. She only answered when their lips were but inches apart.
āI donāt expect there not to be any catches,ā she whispered, ābut I still find it noble of you to settle with such a humble offering.ā
āYou know me too well,ā he breathed, but the end of the note got blurred as she bit his lower lip, causing him to smirk into their first kiss shared.
Adjective challenge 12 ā Concordant
Sifki ~ 1300 words
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His smirk was unveiled, theatrical, and it tugged at a nerve somewhere within her; he could see it clearly.
āYour pity, or whatever you call it, is heartwarming, really,ā he said, ābut your acting wouldnāt fool even a dunce, let alone me.ā
If she'd kept her patience so far, the way he uttered the last word ā in the most conceited way ā now truly made her want to explode.
She shook dirt-stained locks out of her face with an irate movement as they walked away from the battlefield in a hurried stride.
āCall it what you want, then,ā she answered. āIāll prove you wrong in time.ā
Only two paces later did he respond, his gaze far ahead of them.
āYou wear my brotherās colours, Lady Sif.ā
āThis isnāt Thorās colour, itās maroon. He prefers the brightest crimson, to be the last thing that burns into his foesā eyes. You know that.ā
āYet youāre the most pleasing match to his demeanor. Everyone agrees there isnāt another couple so splendidāā
āIāve told you numerous times to stop calling us a couple, especially in public. Weāre not meant to be, not even if everyone agrees on it, as you claim. My life is mine, and his is his, and I promise you people would have long forgotten this ridiculous gossip if it werenāt for your snake tongue and love for complications.ā
āIām merely voicing my observation, thatās all. Why would I ever lessen your grace with an oaf like my brother if it werenāt the unalterable reality?ā
She huffed in irritation and threw up her arms.
āWhat even makes you think such blundering idiocy? Just because I talk to him? Or because we spar regularly?ā
āAnd who knows what else you do, since youāre one of the few maidens afforded his company.ā
āTrust me, none of your fanciful ideas are real,ā she barked at him. āIf they were, why would I be here asking you to take me as your partner to the ball?ā
āBecause of a lost bet,ā he pointed out without hesitation.
She held her breath for a moment before responding.
āA clever idea, but untrue. Look, Iām trying to better our connection. We all used to have great fun together before you two hit puberty and started these incredibly dumb comparisons.ā
āI did not start it,ā he announced.
āYou took part all the same.ā
āAnd was the first to grow bored of it, if you hadnāt noticed.ā
Which was no wonder, she thought, as anyone would grow bored of a game they kept being humbled at. But she reined in her tongue before uttering this truth.
āNot my point,ā she snapped, then continued with less fervor. āYouāreā¦ fun to be around when youāre not up to your latest cruel trickery. And I want to keep us together, I want to keep knowing you, thatās all.ā
āSo you accepted the dare with this particular intention?ā
āExactly. No! I meanāā She raised her voice again to convey confidence. āIāve been wanting to do this, or something like it, eventually. Yes, this time I was dared by Fandral. But I see it as an opportunity rather than a game. Since it aligns with my intention, you see.ā
She trudged on, regardless of her unfortunate slip of the tongue and the predicament it induced. Loki had always admired this trait in her: how she kept going bravely where others would have long given up.
āOnly, the secret is out now,ā he sighed, āand Iām insulted, so youāre going to lose this one. What exactly will be your penalty?ā
āThere wonāt be one. Because you have a soft spot for your old friend who only wants to bring back the good old times.ā
āOh no, no, this is far more interesting. What is the penalty, truly?ā
āNothing of importance.ā
āAll the more reason to keep pressing if you deny it so desperately.ā
Sif let out a sigh of surrender.
āMaking out with Fandral for an entire minute,ā she admitted reluctantly. āHeās got convinced by some nonsense that kissing someone for a full minute makes you fall in love with them.ā
āOh boy, wonāt that be a convenience for us all?ā Loki gushed. āYouāll finally settle with someone, heāll get the lady of his dreams, Thor wonāt be subject to false gossip any longer, and youāll stop pestering me at last. Itās a win for everyone.ā
āIf you know me at all, you know it canāt happen. And if I know you as I think I do, youāve already forged a deal in your mind. So out with it: whatās the price for saving me from that peacockās lifelong teasing?ā
āYouāre joking, right?ā Loki chuckled. āRed is the most hideous match to my complexion that you could ever imagine.ā
āItās maroon,ā she snapped.
āAll the same. Iām sorry for the loss of your dignity, Lady Sif. Iāll be there during your atrocious humbling as a show of my condolences.ā
āYou canāt do this to me. Remember, weāre a team.ā
āIāve proven you wrong a million times in battles, and itās not beneath me to do so once more.ā
āAll right, what do you want? Iāll let you win our next duel, in public ā how about that?ā
āA meagre and uninteresting victory.ā
āWell, I canāt help you win against Thor, can I?ā
āCanāt you?ā
She fell silent and frowned at him with suspicion.
āI canāt,ā she stated firmly, decisively refusing any foul plans against Thor that Loki might have been about to involve her in. āI will not lie to Thor for you, and I will most certainly not harm him, or anyone else, for your amusement.ā
āWho even cares what he believes?ā Loki smirked. āYouāre supposed to be concerned with my opinion right now, not his.ā
āAnd itās precisely what Iāve been trying to do for the past quarter hour.ā
āYes. First by tricking me, next by appealing for my pity.ā He put his hand behind him casually and gazed in the distance as they strolled on, amused by her fiery glare at his collar bone.
āI donāt need your pity,ā she started but was cut off, as if he had suddenly grown bored of the play.
āYouāll need to change colours, obviously,ā he pointed out, his tone that breathy almost-whisper that always sent a shiver down her spine.
He smiled without bothering to hide it, eyebrows arched in amusement. He was damn happy about causing her discomfort, and he didnāt even care to deny it.
Sif had had enough of that. She decided that this time, she would use her dismaying lack of abhorrence of the matter, and she would be the one to aggravate him with her imperturbability.
āIāll see what I can do about it,ā she announced in proud calmness, causing his smile to widen into a quiet chuckle.
āIn case you wish for provisions for the purpose, you know where to find me.ā
Yes, and he would send her some enchanted dress or robe, or possibly something plainly embarrassing.
āI think Iāll manage,ā she smiled at him this time.
āOh, I know you will,ā he said, leering at her as his gaze took in her figure from top to bottom without shame.
As heat crept into her cheeks under the weight of the look, she quickly parted ways with him. Only a corridor later did comprehension of her victory steal a slowly widening smile onto her lips.
Preoccupied with the triumph, she gasped in startlement when Fandral called to her from a nearby group of friends she had failed to notice.
āAny time you see fit, my lady,ā he said merrily, presenting himself with a light bow.
āIām afraid itās not your lucky day,ā she answered without slowing her pace.
The entire group sounded utterly surprised, but she kept her gaze forward, worried that her joy might shine on her face too obviously and be misunderstood.
āYou never know until the day is over,ā she heard Fandral mutter behind her ā but there was a warm smile in his tone, quite unfitting for his supposed disappointment, in her opinion.
Me: End of the year means decluttering~ Let's quickly finish writing an ongoing fanfiction - less clutter in the draft folder means less clutter in the mind. :>
Also me: *speed-types the outline of 3 new fanfiction ideas*
She thought at first that she was seeing a twin or a clone, perhaps hallucinating or having a wishful vision in someone vaguely similar. The man under suspicion was one of the free, walking slowly along the main path and immersed in a light-mooded chatter with his companion. His deep-set eyes a faded shade of teal, his face lean and shadowed around the cheeks. His hair dark and wavy, chin-length at most, loosely combed back to introduce a remarkable forehead. The attire he wore fit the environment: an elegantly collared jacket all free men wore, unique in some subtle traits like each other one. The shirt under it ran up the entire length of his neck, like he enjoyed suffocating in the scorching, stuffy air of the market.Ā
Only after several steps with the walking rod in his left hand did she notice him limping. What battle had he just recently emerged from, if he wasn't being hunted?Ā
By the end of her observation, she wondered if he was deaf or a coward. Or just his usual cunning self? He was namely ignorant to her angered calls over the crowd from a row away. And his well kempt appearance had induced a great deal of rage in her to tug on her groaning chains. Her ruckus awoke startled attention in her immediate surroundings.Ā
And he, he bent to his companion, a somewhat shorter, elderly man, sharing a delightful story that his widely gesturing hands had just remembered.Ā
Her vengeful snarls at his distant form earned her a punch on the jaw from a metal rod, and crude, foreign scolding from a captor. Her temper was heated, so she spat her rapidly accumulating blood into the intruder's face in the middle of his crudely scolding sentence.Ā
Her voice ā and breath ā faltered as she was kicked by a spiked metal boot on the ribs in response, her balance quickly overthrown and sending her onto her knees. The cuffs attaching all four of her limbs onto the pedestal didn't allow her to reel away from the continuing assault. The thin linen tunic didn't yield protection. The cracked pride she had trusted in proved to be frail against the unexpected occurrence, and she kept on calling for the first familiar face she had seen in an eternity, even while her eyes shut and her jaw clenched from the pain: her voice alone clung onto the possibility, which she hadnāt even noticed growing in her awareness. She barely noted her tone turning to pleading from the challenge she had thrown towards him at the beginning.Ā
Other captors held back her attacker before her demeanour could have been damaged significantly. When the brawl dragged out and increased the audience, the older manās attention was drawn to her first among other passers-by, a hand on his partnerās arm modestly requesting a break in the flow of words. The green-grey eyes then turned to look as well; though her glare attempted to bore into his through the curtain of her hair, they swept over her urging gaze without a sign of recognition, more amused by the bicker that the captors were now having over the maidenās head. He had his wit ready for a quietly shared comment on it, which made the older man chuckle along. As he responded to the older man's curious mumbling while staring at the ruckus, the familiarity in his arched eyebrows and pouting lips grew certainty inside her. Her voice was abandoning her as she called for him in vain. And then his polite touch on the shoulders guided his companion away from the appalling incident. She stared at his back through her tangled locks with a force that meant to toss him, kick him, burn him up, but the notion never reached, and she feared that he had just taken a piece away from her with himself: her sanity perhaps, or her faith. In what? People? Friendship? Alliance? Destiny? The future? She had plenty of time left here to figure it out, it seemed.Ā
She'd been captive for some months now, maybe. Captive, yes, and not what her fellow sufferers were called. She was stranded on this planet, wasn't sure what realm; she'd been swept here among hundreds of that planet's people, after the borderland she defended had fallen against the forces invading from outer space. While being carried in chains to the victorious foreign homeland, something unknown tore the ship apart, and she fell in here helplessly after a lengthy tumble through space, for her exhausted body to be found and restrained before she would even come to herself. For her to be exhibited on sale for the pleasure of the local folk.Ā
She'd never lost a battle before. Then again, Asgard had never been late with reinforcements either. Heimdall had never failed to open the Bifrost. She'd been wondering ever since whether her decision to assault boldly, counting on Asgard's help in this pathetic way had earned her shame great enough for exile. Whether the decision came from the fake Odin that had sent her away when it occurred she was no fool like the others. Whether anyone else knew. Whether she had been announced dead back home, or she'd been proclaimed unworthy to set foot into the land of gods. Whether the land was coping well under the self-righteous trickster's false reign.Ā
And now, even more questions. And the blackest one: whether she really came from what she remembered, or she'd been here since the birth of the Universe, to stay until its last light flickered out.
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