I know yozu don't ship UsUk so.. ScotIre, Zombie AU (cause i really love those)
I didn’t know if this was Scotland/Ireland or Scotland/Northern Ireland so I went with the latter and made it parental because that might hurt more and I wanna write a badass daddy with his toddler bab, yeaaah \OwO/
Iain - ScotlandPatrick - Northern Ireland
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He hums as they walk, smiling down as big glassy eyes stare up at him from the harness. Keeping Patrick safe was his main priority, the baby harness acting like a hard shell to keep the child safe and sedure when it came to running and, in etreme cases, fighting off the undead.
He looks up as he hears the low snarl, giving Patrick an apologetic look as he pulled the pipe from the holder he’d build some days before as the thing got closer and closer.
"Don’t be scared lil fella, we’ll all be fine soon."
I flipped the coin on making this Legend of Zelda AU or a Dragon Age AU and Zelda Au won. Basing this off of Twilight princess because heyyy, i’s my favourite game uwu
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His firsst impression of the imp is one of annoyance, Arthur trapped as some wolf whilst this creature seemed to take enjoyment from the situation and spoke in riddles and lymerics. All he wants to do is clamp his teeth down on him and shake him till he’s dead and gone.
His second impression is one of pity, one of slight understanding. The Imp was as cursed as he was and stuck on this quest to save a land they didn’t know too well together. Arthur’s warmed up to Sean by now, the enigma behind him just too interesting to ignore.
His last impression is one of slight embarrassment and regret…but mostly embarrassment because damn….nobody has said the twili could be so…so…fuck. Fuck it all. The imp turned out to be hot and now he’s gone and fucked off through that damn mirror he’d spent ages putting together and shattered it.
There is clearly some higher power at work that despises him here.
not sure why i post fic previews on here and not on my writing blog but, yeah, currently working ona one shot for OzNZ (2P/1P) because I've never really written t despite the fact it was really interesting due to how 2P Oz views NZ and such ahhh. Do note that 2P Australia had a fascination with mythology in the 2Ptalia i write. so...ummm yeahhhh
but yes ewe it s abit shitty but ahh well
NZ ended up female in this because, due to the way it is written, the constant use of he would be confusing. At least, confusing for me to write ;~; I apologise djdgjlfg
She’s not sure when or where she is when she wakes up, a dull throbbing in base of her skull that only seems to intensify with each breath. Her vision is blurred, or maybe the room is just too dark for her too see, so dark she squints and winces as a door is opened, averting her gaze as the only light added to the pain.
That’s when she notice the ropes, pulling against them weakly and whining. Why did she feel so heavy? They weren’t even tied tightly so why couldn’t she…?
A calloused hand cups her chin, tilting her head up surprisingly gently and, whilst she can’t make out the features clearly there’s something oddly familiar about him. It confuses her already bemused state more, blinking slowly up at the silhouetted man and trying to speak, only to have the man shush her.
“Shhh, my little Persephone, it’s only me.” Persephone? Why was he calling her…? He cuts off her thoughts by placing something to her lips. She must have had a confused look upon her face as he laughs, so familiar and yet…different. Something was off about it and she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“It’s just water, honestly. You must be thirsty, Welly-boot.”
And she is. She drinks like a parched man, so much she feels sick, water dribbling down her chin and front as he pulls the glass away, wiping her face clean with his thumb. “You made such a mess, dear, I can only imagine how you’d take food…”
It hits her then. The concerned voice is the same, or at least similar enough for it to click. Why hadn’t it been obvious sooner or had whatever had knocked her out still fogged her mind?
“J…James…?” She croaked only for the man to pause and chuckled, moving down and leaning in so close she can smell his breath clear as anything, her own hitching slightly. What was James doing? They didn’t have the most normal love life but this was strange, even for them.
The kiss is unexpected but gentle, startling her somewhat and breaking before she can properly react to it, his words whispered against her lips. “Not quite, Persephone. Not quite.”
He leaves her then, everything going dark again as the door was closed behind him, leaving her with so many more questions than she had before.
Where was she? How did she get here?
And, most importantly, who was this not quite James?
you know how i said I was doing that fic based on reasonsmyson is crying last night?
well i uhh
started it
She’s at work when she first sees the blog her husband has set up, cocking a brow as she gets the email from Jacqueline, her secretary, the URL alone making her wonder what she paid the Seychellois for if she spent her time looking at this cra…was that her child crying?
Wellesley frowns as the first image comes up, the eldest of her two children crying in her kitchen because ‘I made him the sandwich he wanted’. Scrolling back up to the description, she lets out a load groan of annoyance mumbling it aloud.
“A blog dedicated to my two children, Lawrence and Matilda, and their chronic crying problem. It’s hilarious but damn, they don’t half know how to cry.”
She doesn’t care if James is a free lance photographer and needs his equipment, she was breaking his damn camera as soon as she got home from work.
the camera bit hurt me to write, seeing as i am a freelance photographer.
So, I fianlly got somewhere with that Spin off fic to that Avatar AU one of my Sheffield mama bears made (I don't know which one and I don't wanna make a mistake). So here's the first part of it, It's centered around Australia and New Zealand and their travels around the Earth Kingdom.
It's set between Aang going missing and Aang being found by Katara and Sokka, at the time the water benders were being collected and imprisoned.
It's starts in a city like Venice to begin with, however the swamp is slowly engulfing it.
“JAMES, PUT ME DOWN. PUT. ME. DOWN!”
He whistles, ignoring the way Wellesley is shouting, no screaming, at him, pretty much throwing the tied up blonde into the boat, still whistling as he started to bend the water, boat moving through the canals slowly. Something that unnerved Wellesley ever so slightly. “Where…Where are we going? The swamp is the other way.”
“We aren’t going back to the swamp.”
There’s a moments silence then, Wellesley silently wondering if he’d heard the other right before realising something very important.
“What about Matilda?! She’s ten, James, ten!”
“Uncle Lawrence said he’ll look after her, she’ll be fine. Now shut up, fire nation might still be around.”
He shuts up then, glaring at the water bender, mentally cursing him as pulled and struggled against the rope on his wrists. “You could have put some clothes on, James, hell, you could have let me get changed out of this first!”
“What’s wrong with what either of us are wearing? I think we look all right.”
“I’m in pyjamas and you’re in a bloody lion cloth, can you not see a problem with this?”
“…nope.”
Wellesley rolled his eyes then, slumping back in the canoe and glaring at the water as they moved along, remaining silent though if it was from sulking or the fire nation threat he doesn’t know. This was going to end badly, he could tell already.
He actually wonders if throwing himself off the boat into the canal would be a good idea.
He then remembers that James is a water bender, kicking out in frustration before rolling onto his side.
ahahahaha still writing this but yeah, I see you stressing so have this little bit of it ouo it more than liekly won't make you feel better so....
He can tell there’s something wrong with Joana as soon as it hits him, the rich smell of chocolate and the kitchen being an utter mess. Her hair’s scraped back into a bun, still in her pyjama bottoms, resting her hands on her hips as she waited for them to be done. “You’re doing a cracking impression of bunny boy there.”
With a roll of the eyes Gabriel steps into the kitchen, eyes the bowls covered in chocolate before resting his hand by the just about empty packet of chocolate chips, the other on his hip. “What’s wrong?” He’s not sure why he’s asking her this, she’s been doing this every month without fail since she turned fourteen.
Gabriel only gets a glare in response, his sister looking at him in a way that suggests she hates him for being male before turning her attention back to the oven as the timer went off. And then the smell becomes over powering, his mouth already watering at the smell, eyes following the tray his sister pulls from the oven, placing it on the top, oven off and pulling off the gloves before throwing them at her brother.
“No.”
“No what?”
“You’re not having one. So stop eyeing it up like its bunny boys ass.”
“I am not!”
“You are. Now I’m leaving the room, should one crumb be gone when I get back, I am going to skin you.”
He watches her as she pretty much storms out of the room, half looking like she was going to be sick, trying not to laugh at her misery. Gabriel can only wonder if that makes him a bad brother before his eyes go back to the brownies. She only said a crumb; she said nothing about a square or two.
He’s about half way through his second one when he hears her, laughing to himself before going pale. It was that screech, that ungodly screech that one of Arthur’s brothers – the Irish one he thinks – compared to the noise Cthulhu made on a death charge.
That settled it; he was staying somewhere else tonight. He didn’t trust his sister enough after this for his crotch to be left intact.
