#vin writes

[labskeever]

it is Wednesday, my dudes!

tagged by @theoneandonlysemla @skyrim-forever @silly-little-diary @chiqita and @heavy-metal-dick. thank you my friends!!

no pressure tags: @dirty-bosmer @friend-of-giants @illumiera @knifecalledlust @madam-whim @pinessydr @pocket-vvardvark @sulphuricgrin @aesasne and whoever else wants to tag me so I can see what they're working on :D

I have some plot for you on this fine Wednesday (and a final paper due at midnight, whoops)

His Majesty’s eyes seemed far away. “Your sister. She looks like you.”

“You never met her,” said Vianne, for she was certain of that much.

“No, I didn’t,” said His Majesty, sounding impossibly sad. “I would have liked to see her with my own eyes.”

“Stop speaking as if you won’t get the chance,” said Vianne, forgetting her manners. “Nothing is ever set in stone. We’re nearly to the sewers.”

“It is not my place to quarrel with Akatosh,” he said. Then, after a long pause: “We are almost to the sewers, you said?”

“Yes, sire.”

His Majesty glanced around. Vianne followed his gaze; he was looking towards [Blade #1] and [Blade #2], both of whom were looking out in either direction, their backs turned to Vianne and the emperor. In a smooth motion, His Majesty reached up and pulled the Amulet of Kings over his head. His large, wrinkled hand reached for Vianne’s, and without a word, he pressed the amulet into her palm, closing her fingers over it. The gold was hot to the touch.

“Take it,” he said, his voice suddenly urgent. “Only you can slip by them without being seen.”

“Sire…I cannot take this.”

“It is not your duty to die with me, not this time. I have a fourth son. All I know of him is that his name is Martin, and he was born on the solstice in 383. Jauffre told me that he became an apprentice mage. Find him, and the Dragonfires will yet burn.”

“Surely the captain—”

“You are the only one who will live to see the sun rise.”

Vianne went cold. It seemed the only warmth left in the dank tunnels was emanating from the smooth metal in her hand. The emperor’s face softened; he brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek, the gesture so much like her father that it made her heart weep.

“Go, and may the gods go with you.”

No matter how dearly she wished to, Vianne could not refuse an order from her emperor. Aetherity came willingly to her hands, and she drew it into her skin, into the soles of her boots, until she could neither be seen nor heard by mortal senses.

Then, she ran.

[orbitalmirror]

Happy Birthday @masterjedilenawrites!!

I was aiming for birthday cake levels of sweetness here. This is a sort of spiritual successor to the Kix fic you liked—I was trying to go for the same characterization with him and the reader, but it's totally separate from the plot. Hope you like it!

Four years.

It's been four years since you've been able to celebrate your birthday like this, tucked in the corner of your favorite hometown restaurant, hardly able to hear the people across from you amidst the raucous laughter and lively storytelling. Your family are here, reminiscing about the time you set a menu on fire while trying to light birthday candles. Your old friends are chatting with your new ones, catching up on everything you were up to during the war.

And, of course, there's Kix, his hand resting warm on your thigh. Dressed in civilian clothes, with his dark curls brushing his collar after months without a trim and his voice soaked in levity, it feels like he was always meant to be a part of this world—your world.

An hour has passed since you cut the cake, and nearly three since you arrived. There seems to be no end to how long your loved ones can spend talking and drinking. Kix has that sleepy, satisfied look on his face that he gets on the rare occasions he actually eats until he's full—clone appetites are legendary, even when they're no longer in a war-zone. You gesture to the remains of his third slice of cake, which have been lying sad and abandoned on his plate for a while now.

"Can I eat the rest of this?" you ask.

Kix blinks, and a mischievous grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. He picks up his fork, scoops up a bit of cake, and holds it out for you. On any other day, you might roll your eyes and call him a goofball, or steal the fork from him. But today…well, why not?

You lean forward and take the bite, making an exaggeratedly smug face when you've swallowed. Kix bursts out laughing, and you can feel it as much as you can hear it, with his body pressed up against you as it is.

"I was not expecting that to work," he says. "You managed not to get any on your face, either."

"Was that your plan? Get a little on my face so you could kiss it off of me?"

"A terrible plan. The boys would be ashamed of me. I underestimated my enemy. What will I do now? Retreat? Surrender? Call in the cavalry?"

"You could always just try again."

A long, delicate moment passes in silence. Kix tilts his head at you the same way he does when assessing a complicated patient, but his expression is something that you've only started seeing on his face since the war ended—unhurried, tender, content. Safe.

Then he scoops up a second bite, and with a marvelously steady hand, boops the tiniest bit of frosting onto your lower lip. You leave it there, trying not to laugh again.

"Oopsie," he says.

"Now, are you—"

But he answers your question before you can finish, kissing you gently. You hear him set the fork down on the plate, and his hand comes up to touch your cheek. Someone at the table hoots at you good-humoredly.

After Kix pulls away, he gives you on last kiss on your nose, and whispers, "Happy birthday."

[vinnyvin-thevincent]

MelVik Fic: Ambition

Mel raised a curly eyebrow. “Really? So what’s going on?”

Something mischievous pulled at Viktor’s lips. He gestured in his friend’s direction with his free hand. “I’m having an affair in my boss’ office with this criminal.”

Summary- A calm night turns hectic because of Jayce Talis' trial.

Just a sweet and funny MelVik oneshot.

Rated- G

Read here!

[enigmaticvariation]

You got me nervous (I'm right at the end of my rope) // ROSE-COLORED KING CHAPTER ONE

[rubber-duck-obsessed-boi]

Not many wanted it but for those who did, here you go. A small snippet from If We Could Feel. Enjoy!

Quirrel took a step toward the knowledge collector as the whispers around them grew louder. He'd ousted himself and he was going to use it to his advantage. "If Madame Monomon were here now she'd lash you for your outright disrespect and horrid behavior. Those of us who take on the task of collecting knowledge do so with the intent to share it with others, to enlighten them so they may do the same. You are a disgrace to the profession. I suggest you lower your head in shame and leave things to those who'd do justice to the name."

He was surprised by his tone, he'd never taken on such authority before. In this case, however, he was glad to have found such a voice as he watched the knowledge seeker step back as he moved toward her. She seemed to want to say something but thought better of it as she turned quickly and left Quirrel standing there on his own. The whispers quieted and he took himself back inside Icha's home where he began to shake. Icha grabbed a chair and helped him sit down. "Thank you, Icha - I have never - in my entire life done something so bold without a nail at my side. My nerves are catching up to me."

[ohshanksno]

"Perhaps....you'd like to stay? With us? It seems your parents don't acknowledge your vast creativity you have within yourself." 

 And Sabo pauses in his sentence, forgot what he was rambling about. And he closes his mouth, and sits in stunned silence. No one ever told him he was creative, only "good job" and "you can do better than this". But "you are so creative! Do what makes you happy!"? That's unheard of. 

 "Stay?" he echoes, unsure if he heard wrong. 

 "Yes! You can stay with us!" Other Father looks happily at Other Mother--something that was rare to see in the Real World, Father and Mother only taking mere glances at each other, if that--and Other Stelly joins in. 

 "Yeah! We can be bestest brothers, Sabo!" he's smiling so happily at the mere mention of Sabo staying with them, and he pushes his fingers to the corner of his mouth and pushes them into a bigger smile, green button eyes never changing their light. "We can do so many things together, oh, we can even find the hercules beetles you were talking about! We have so many in our backyard!" 

And yes, Sabo could stay, no one would ever give him a second glance. He can do whatever he wished in this world, with no consequences following behind him like a shadow. Eat all the candy, stay up late stargazing, writing so many novels about being a free pirate on the seas like Luffy and Ace wanted to be-- 

His thoughts come to a screeching halt when his brothers come to mind. Ace. Luffy. What would they say if he suddenly disappeared? 

 But then the nasty head of doubt comes in, rearing its head at Sabo. 

'You know they don't care. You were there because you were a noble, and they got away with things you couldn't, because they don't have a responsible adult figure. No one cares about a little noble boy that daydreams all the time.' 

 "....you know what? I think I'll stay." he says, with finality.

[winelover1989]

I'm a hypocrite for judging other writers for names that aren't creative while being so utterly hopeless, I named a dragon planet 'Dragox'... Its supposed to be a cool place I spent months building and now I'm dying of embarrassment everytime I type that name. I wish I had someone to just name stuff for me.

[ohshanksno-arts-gone]

“What’s your name, miss?” Roger asked, intrigued by her dangerous smile.

“Mm.” she tilts her head. “You can call me Rouge.”

The captain only gapes, and stutters on his words. “R-Roger. Name’s Gol D. Roger.”

Her eyes hold a sinister glint to them, gold reflecting the water.

“Captain, I don’t trust her,” Rayleigh whispers behind him, hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t feel right.”

“You never trust anyone,” he whispers back, and Rayleigh only tightens his hold on Roger.

“Perhaps you should listen to your friend. After all, we are out in the middle of nowhere. Sea monsters roaming.” she moves her hand, hypnotically, and a bubble forms around her fingers, stretching to her palm. “What makes you think I won’t kill you so easily?”

“Because you wouldn’t kill your Captain now, would you, lass?” he gives a bright smile, hand outstretched to the woman sitting on the rock. “Come join us!”

.

They don’t call her the Siren of the Seas for nothing