#[ i haven't done one of these in a long while whoops

[kiealer]

I've been thinking about Solar Storm as I've been watching JJBA and HxH, and I finally have outside references to compare it to in order to give a better explanation:

Solar Storm is like a 70%/30% mix of Hamon and Killua's Godspeed form. Which is to say, yes, Solar Storm is just basically a giant JoJo's reference before I even knew what it was. (and now it's entirely intentional--)

Overdrive is more often than not used for defense since it covers her entire body, and any touch will evoke a sharp and massive electric shock to the one who touches her. She cannot use ki attacks in this form, it will drain her instantly, or potentially even kill her with how much energy she's outputting. Shock (I think I called it) is the lesser form, centralized to specific parts of her body (more often her arms or hands than not), which is more for offense because it's more focused and meant to be used for accurate strikes. It takes less energy but more concentration. Yes, ki attacks can be used, though it still takes a chunk out of her. I'd say her ki attacks are electric-based, and maybe she can even absorb ki in this state to keep for herself or to use as a counterattack, but I'll think more about that.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 5 - Greedy

Plans to dock at Sabaody are made, and Kid shows his true colours.

WC: 3.6k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

“You sure about this?” Killer asked, sitting at the round table in the navigation room, along with Heat, the two of them supervising you as you sat at a writing desk in the corner, scribing your list of what was to occur at Sabaody to prove your story. “It's not too late to tell the truth. Maybe Kid will go easy on you, chain you in the brig for a little longer for everyone to fuck before we sell you off.”

“This is the truth,” you huffed, struggling with the style of pen you'd been given, a feather tipped fountain pen like you'd often see in the anime. It was certainly a learning curve to use, leaving messy black ink stains over the page where you'd pressed too hard. “You'll see, once this day happens. I don't know if it'll be the first day we're docked though, it wasn't clear how long the Kid Pirates had been at Sabaody before the Straw Hats arrived, but I'm gonna guess it wasn't long.”

“Kid is eager to figure out how to get to the next island and get moving promptly,” Killer noted, “you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, I actually do!” You replied enthusiastically, happy to have a way to prove yourself useful while you waited for the Straw Hats to arrive.

“You know how to get us to the next island?” Killer raised a brow under his mask.

“Yeah,” you replied confidently, “I do.” Killer and Heat exchanged knowing looks before Heat stood.

“I'll get Kid and Wire,” he explained, leaving Killer to babysit you while you mumbled your curses at the fountain pen, groaning as you realised you'd stained the clothes you were borrowing.

It wasn't long before you heard the telltale stomps of the captain cutting through the infirmary on the other side of the wall, before the door slammed open and the man himself entered, huffing in annoyance as he sat at the table. “Heat said the mouse has info, spit it out, I'm busy,” Kid growled.

“One second captain,” you hurried to write the last few points on your page before giving a relieved sigh, “kay, done! Who am I giving this to?”

“I'll take it,” Kid grumbled, holding out his hand for the page. You gave the ink a careful touch to check it was dry before folding it carefully, standing to cross the room and placing it in Kid's hand. He slid it into his belt for safekeeping, with the intention of putting it in his safe later. Unless you suddenly had the ability to manipulate metal, you wouldn't be able to get the note back to change it. “Sit, mouse. Intel, now.”

“Right, of course,” you mumbled, moving to sit in a empty chair before Kid made a tsk and pointed at his lap. You took the hint, sitting on his thick thigh and wriggling a little to get comfortable before his arms stabilised you. He didn't seem to be interested in fucking you right now, it more seemed like he just wanted you as an accessory, or perhaps to remind you of your place here. “How much do you all know about the next location? I'm guessing your log pose is pointing down, correct?”

Wire, who acted as navigator, gave Kid a questioning look, asking for permission, before Kid gave him an affirmative nod. “Yeah, it's pointing down,” Wire supplied, “towards the Redline, in line with Mariejois. Once we realised it was pointing down we set out for Sabaody instead, since it seems to be the closest island to what the pose wants, but I haven't figured out the next island yet.”

“The next island is Fishman Island,” you explained, “located ten thousand metres under sea level. If you can't get legal permission to pass over the Redline through Mariejois, which would require ditching the ship anyway, then you have to go under. There's a gap in the Redline near Fishman Island, that'll allow you to pass through to the New World.”

“News alert, mouse, this ain't no submarine,” Kid growled, pinching your waist and making you yelp.

“I know!” You defended with a pout, “you didn't let me finish!”

“I can assure you I always let pretty girls finish,” Kid purred, making you squeak as he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. You smacked the arm wrapped around you, scolding him with a growl that made him laugh.

“You tryna fuck or do you want to hear what I have to say, captain?” You huffed.

“Alright, alright,” Kid conceded, “intel first, then maybe I'll fuck ya, get one last go with that tight cunt before your story falls apart on Sabaody.”

“It won't fall apart,” you mumbled, “anyway, the Victoria can make it down there, but you need to have her coated in resin. You'll see when we get close enough that Sabaody has giant bubbles coming from the ground. It isn't actually an island, it's an archipelago of giant mangroves that produce a special resin. The whole place is covered in it, but it can be used for all sorts of things. One of which is coating ships to protect the ship and crew so you can travel underwater. It's not an easy journey even with the resin, only thirty percent of ships make it through to the New World, but your crew will make it. It is expensive though, the resin coating process.”

“So how do we go about getting this resin?” Killer asked.

“You gotta find someone who specialises in coating ships, if they do it wrong the ship could be crushed under the water pressure,” you explained, “I know where you can find a good coater, but I believe you'll need to wait till after the events of my letter take place or it may come as an inconvenience. I won't spoil things too much, but you're gonna want to retain the ability to get off shore quickly until the events of my letter have passed. If you're not ready to leave when the events happen, or the ship is only half coated, then it'd be a waste of your money.”

“And how fuckin’ long is that gonna be,” Kid grumbled.

“Until the Straw Hats arrive,” you sighed, knowing he was going to hate that answer. As expected he made an annoyed tsk behind you, grumbling quiet grievances. “In the meantime, how much do you know about Sabaody?” The question was mostly directed at Wire, since you wanted to ensure the crew docked in the right place.

“Not much,” Wire admitted, “tourist destination, lawless areas, some sort of amusement park, a marine base.”

You went on to explain the way that the archipelago was split up by numbered groves, explaining what you could remember of what groves held what things. It was a good thing you had an exceptional visual memory, thinking hard about the numbered map that was shown in the anime, and the few times places had been shown with grove numbers. Most importantly you told them where the lawless areas were, so they could make plans on where to make port.

“You should avoid docking at grove twenty-seven, if possible,” you finished, “a marine admiral will be causing issues there, so perhaps it'd be best to see if there's any other docks in that area. The Straw Hats will be docking at grove fourty-one, if you want to send a lookout so you know when they're here. Be aware though, there is a group running around impersonating the Straw Hats. Actually, fun fact, one day the same group will impersonate your crew.”

“Ha!” Kid barked, “Like anyone could look as impressive as me!”

“You're not wrong,” you laughed, “they do a fucking awful job. They don't even give Killer a real mask, just a shitty hat and stripes painted on their face. It's awful. Don't even get me started on the monstrosity that was their impression of Wire.”

“I'm guessing then that this fake Straw Hat will be easy to recognize?” Wire asked.

“Just tell your lookout not to mistake him for a fat man having a midlife crisis and they'll be good,” you offered, “the real luffy is practically a child.”

“A child that took down two Warlords…” Heat mumbled.

“Hey, I didn't say he was a weak child,” you replied, “he's not at his full strength yet though, doesn't even know what haki is. Speaking of which, is there anyone here who can teach me to control mine?”

“Aye, Kil can teach you,” Kid replied, to which Killer groaned and rolled his eyes under his mask.

“Why do I have to be the one to teach her?” Killer complained. “Does she even need to know how to use it?”

“If her story proves to be true, she's more useful if she can fight,” Wire replied, “and I for one am not going to be babysitting her every battle so she doesn't get her ass served to her.”

“We'll see whether she's full of shit first though,” Kid added, “she's probably lying so she can get some dick, so you don't have to worry about it.”

“Can you all stop talking about me like I'm not here!” You shouted, “and I'm not full of shit! I may be a fangirl but that doesn't mean I'm here for just dick, I genuinely want to help this crew. You're all gonna have to be way nicer to me after all this if you want me to give you information on your future cos right now you're all acting like dickheads, maybe Trafalgar would prefer me on his crew.”

“Like Trafalgar could make you cum like we do,” Kid growled, grabbing you by the cunt and making you squeak. “Why don't ya take your clothes off and I'll remind you why you're a Kid Pirates girlie?”

“I politely decline getting fucked against a table again,” you huffed, “my tailbone still fucking hurts.”

“I'll fuck ya wherever I like, mouse,” Kid hissed.

“Then you'll be fucking your hand, you brute,” you spat, wiggling your way out of his lap, “take me to your bed or don't take me at all, I'm fragile, you ass.”

“So the mouse has a voice,” Kid laughed, “alright then, just this once little mouse, I'll give ya what ya want.”

You squeaked in surprise as Kid charged at you, grabbing you and flinging you over his shoulder. Your face was buried in his feathery coat as he smacked your ass, all of the commanders in the room openly laughing at you. “The mouse sure does like to squeak,” Wire laughed.

“I'll have her screaming in no time,” Kid smiled, “Wire, go ahead and navigate the ship to Sabaody, dock wherever the fuck it was she said to. When do you think we'll arrive?”

“Weather permitting, should make land tomorrow around noon,” Wire replied, “the others have their restock lists all ready to go.”

“Good, I have a mouse to play with then,” Kid barked, opening the door that went straight to the deck, “any trouble, tell Killer first, I'm fuckin’ busy.”

With that Kid left the room, yanking down your pants and borrowed underwear and exposing your ass to anyone who might be on the deck. You expected snickers from the crew but instead received only amused, hungry glances, or eyerolls directed at the captain. It seemed Kid debauching women in plain sight was a common occurrence here, and you wondered how long it'd be until one of the commanders fucked you on deck in full sight of everyone. The thought made your pussy clench more than you thought it would. Kid shamelessly pushed his thumb between your folds as he walked, sliding it inside you for a moment to collect your slick before using it as lubrication to rub your clit.

“Kid!” You protested, trying to squirm, but he was far stronger than you.

“Don't act like you don't like it, mouse,” he laughed, pushing two fingers inside you and making obscene squelching sounds for all to hear, “you're fucking soaked, you like seeing everyone watch you get finger fucked huh? Bet you'd love it if I tied you to the mast and let everyone have a go.” Your pussy betrayed your thoughts as you tightened around him, biting your lip to hold back a moan as you made eye contact with one of the crew, Reck you remembered his name was, and he gave you a shit eating grin that told you he wouldn't be against that idea. “Fuck, you really tightened when I said that. Be a good girl on Sabaody and maybe we'll make it happen, aye?”

“Yes please captain,” you moaned as he slid in a third finger and continued finger fucking you as he walked. The idea of being strapped to the mast and used was making you drip an embarrassing amount. You didn't think you were into exhibitionism but the last few days had certainly awoken something in you. You were sure it was Wire's shit eating grin while Kid fucked you that had done it, that one look had somehow irreversibly altered your braincells and now all you wanted was to be used and humiliated by the Kid Pirates.

“You like pussy too, mouse?” Kid asked as he made his way up the stairs, “we got a few girls here who like pussy, maybe you could show them a good time too.”

“I do, captain,” you admitted, whining as he removed his fingers to open the door to the stern castle. Your mind was spinning, which ladies aboard would take a turn with you? Oh you so hoped Quincy and Hop were interested.

“Aye, calm down mouse,” Kid laughed, giving your ass a spank, “so fuckin’ needy, I'll have ya filled up in a minute.”

Kid hurried up the last set of stairs to his room, stomping across the expanse of the dining section and throwing you on his bed. Your body bounced a few times against the mattress as he started to remove his clothes, and you quickly followed suit, your pants already gone somewhere on the deck, your used underwear now stolen by another crewmate to be used for their own pleasure later. Kid was careful to put your letter somewhere safe until you were out of the room for him to put it in his safe properly. He loomed over you as he shuffled onto the bed, pushing you onto your back. An accidental giggle escaped you in anticipation as Kid's thick cock brushed against your stomach.

“Something funny, mouse?” Kid barked, closing his hand around your neck, pushing you flush against the bed.

“N-no captain,” you moaned, Kid's other hand finding your entrance again and sliding three fingers in with ease, “fuck, sorry captain, just, excited for you to fill me.”

“Always so eager,” Kid chuffed, “I hope your story turns out to be true, such an obedient little thing, we could have so much fun with you.”

“You will, captain,” you whined as he pulled out his fingers and pushed the fat head of his cock against your entrance, “I'll be so good for you captain. You'll see.”

You both groaned as his cock slid inside you, stretching your hole wide. He filled you so well, you were ashamed to admit how much you'd missed his cock since he'd fucked you in front of the others. It felt just as good as you'd anticipated, perhaps even more so now that your tailbone wasn't being ground into a hard tabletop.

“Greedy little mouse,” Kid grunted as he thrust into you, “you prove you're not full of shit and we'll make you our permanent whore, Heat's certainly been in a better mood since you appeared. We'll keep your cunt good and full, and I'm sure my girls would enjoy riding that pretty face of yours. You like that huh? Fuck your pussy got so tight, you want my girls riding that pretty face? Squirtin’ on it? Greedy, greedy little mouse.”

“W-which girls,” you whined, you were getting hot on the idea of being squirted on but needed to know who if that thought was going to get you there.

“That keen are ya? I'm here pounding your cunt and you're thinkin’ bout pussy,” Kid laughed, giving you a particularly hard thrust that knocked the air out of you, “Quincy, Hip and Hop, sometimes Emma but she's a lil shy. You like that huh? Want my girl Quincy cumming on your face? She's a real screamer too.”

As though on cue the thought of having the tall ginger grinding on your face had you seeing stars, gushing on Kid's cock with a breathy moan. “Yer showing your true colours now, mouse,” Kid laughed, pulling his cock out and admiring the mess you'd made on his blankets, “flip over and I'll show you mine, ey?”

You eagerly rolled onto your front and shuffled to be in front of him, and he quickly resheathed himself, before grabbing at your tits and using them as grapple points to pull your torso towards him. You were essentially in his lap as he held your hips and used yours like a cocksleeve, forcing you up and down on his cock. His fangs brushed against your neck, his cock throbbing inside you as he imagined how sweet your blood would be. Pure humans, the rarity that they were, were always so very sweet. Only a faerie was better, in his opinion, though faerie blood also came along with intoxication.

Kid nipped at you neck, testing the waters, but the way you moaned and squeezed around him with each pinch of pain spurred him on further. Finally his fangs broke through your soft flesh, zeroing in on the thick vein in your neck where he could feel your pulse pounding. Your breath stopped as you felt the sharp bite and your body began to register it as an attack, before something began to warm your veins and make you feel giddy. Your body shuddered as his venom ran through you and made you pliable, his cock still pistoning in and out of you as he drank from you. He'd been holding back from feeding from you, not knowing what you were made your blood dangerous. If you had been a witch or a siren your blood would have been poison to him, but he couldn't hold himself back any longer, he was feeling too greedy, and as the sweet taste that was uniquely human flooded his tongue he knew he was right to take the risk.

He wouldn't last long like this, but then again neither would you. Your blood being human only further confirmed your claims, and if you truly weren't lying to him then he couldn't afford to accidentally drain you, you would be far more useful alive. Not to mention how wonderful it would be to have a willing feeder human aboard his ship, every vampire aimed to acquire such a familiar in their home, and with your willingness to serve his cock too you would be quite the treasure. His venom had done its job and you were now more than out of it, off in your own little world as he used your body for his own pleasure. You came, more than once, but you didn't even register it, too busy seeing stars and giggling between moans. You didn't understand why you felt high, but you were too dazed to think about it. You were too dazed to even realise he was drinking from you, another purposeful effect of the venom. You vaguely registered Kid's praises, the slide of his tongue over your neck as he closed the bite wound, the dribble of warm blood down your front before Kid swiped it with his finger and licked the digit clean.

At some point Kid finished, roaring as he unloaded inside you before leaving your twitching form laying on his bed. He wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand as he watched you claw at the blankets, still shivering from aftershocks from your orgasms and his venom. “Look at you, mouse,” Kid laughed, “you're a fucking mess.”

Your head was dizzy, you thought from whatever you'd been drugged with but in reality it was from the lack of blood in your body. You should have been mad that you'd been drugged, but you felt so euphoric that you knew already you'd ask for whatever it was again in future. Your whole body felt sensitive, every little brush of the blankets against your skin made you feel like you were about to cum again, and Kid running a finger up your bare backside wasn't making it any better. He took advantage of your sensitivity, pushing your ass up so he could bury his face between your thighs. He'd barely even touched his tongue to your clit before you were gushing on it, making Kid moan as he drank from you there too. He was already imagining how sweet you'd be on your cycle, he hoped you'd be around long enough to find out. None of the other women on board menstruated, they weren't any of the species that had that sort of cycle, which was a real damn shame.

“Yer sweet down here too, Mouse,” he ran his tongue through your folds one more time before you went limp against the bedding, “sweet little mouse, such a good girl for me.”

All you could give him was a tired “mmm,” before you were lulled to sleep, still laying sideways across Kid's bed, naked, Kid's seed leaking from your cunt and your head spinning from his venom.

A/N: If you're reading this on release day I'd super appreciate if you voted on this poll so I can have your input on future chapters! Thanks 😊

[Next Chapter]

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[waldau-archived]

forever — jeon wonwoo | 855 words | fluff

another drunk!wonwoo fic because he's adorable.

gender neutral reader. warnings: wonwoo is under the influence of alcohol.

"wonwoo," you say, stretching your boyfriend's name out. "i have two left feet."

wonwoo's currently looking at you like the only thing he wants in the world is for you to dance with him.

"it's okay, baby, you're with me," he says, the soft grin on his face far too happy for a ballroom waltz, or whatever slow type of dancing he expects you to do. you wonder how many flutes of champagne he managed to down without you seeing. you also wonder which one of his friends you're going to have to kill.

"wonwoo," you try again. it's not that you don't like dancing; it's just that you're average at it. and compared to wonwoo? you'd much rather just watch him dance.

the pout you get in return completely breaks whatever's left of your will. so what if you can't dance? doesn't your boyfriend let you style his hair however you want when he's done showering? doesn't he listen to you talk about your favourite shows even if he has work that needs to be done? doesn't he make time to go to the cat cafe with you once a month so you can semi-fulfill your dream of owning a cat? there's no reason to deny him this, especially when it's something as harmless as a dance.

you let wonwoo lead you out to a space on the floor which is thankfully not the centre of the room. wonwoo clasps his hand at your waist, the other gripping your hand. you rest a hand on his shoulder and twine your fingers together. he must be really smashed if he's the one who wants to dance with you in the middle of a crowd.

the music is a piece you don't know the name of, but it does sound familiar. you think you've heard woozi play it when you hung out with the boys a long time back. you let it guide you, somehow managing not to trip on your feet or stomp on wonwoo's toes or bump into any of the other couples.

but you realize wonwoo's passion for dancing has evaporated rather quickly when you're left with a tired boyfriend in your arms, resting his head against yours and swaying to the music more than actually dancing. now this is something you can get behind. you loop your arms around his waist and lean up to kiss his jaw.

"i love you," wonwoo says, apropos of nothing.

"i love you too, baby," you say. wonwoo lifts his head from yours to look you in the eyes, and you marvel, not for the first time, how lovely they look under those glasses he always wears. you're engaged in a staring competition, almost, when a loud whoop from the middle of the floor startles you.

minghao and his now-spouse have just finished dancing, and vernon has taken the chance to pop open the cork of a large bottle of champagne rather magnificently.

wonwoo is sleepy. you can somewhat feel his tiredness, so you grip him a bit tighter to make sure he doesn't fall.

"don't you think we should go congratulate them? once more?"

"mm," wonwoo murmurs. "just— just a minute."

"of course."

you can almost see the jigsaw pieces fitting together in wonwoo's alcohol dulled brain as he tries to say something, so you straighten his suit and adjust his glasses as he takes his time.

"one day," he says, so softly that you have to strain to hear his voice, "we're going to be them. i'm going to marry you. we'll move to an even bigger place, get a cat, and live every day of our lives together."

you don't say anything, but that's because you're unable to. it's not that wonwoo's not vulnerable with you — he very much is, just on quieter days. it's the fact that he always seeks you out when he's at his most vulnerable, especially now, when he's drunk. his love for you is written so plainly on his face and in those wonderful eyes of his that no words will suffice to convey just how much you love him.

"what," wonwoo asks when you haven't said anything for a while. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. "i want to. don't you?"

you hate the uncertainty in his voice. "of course i do, baby," you say, finding yours. "i want to marry you, too."

"good. so..." wonwoo lets out a little giggle that melts your heart. "we're engaged now?"

you look around at your friends and the many strangers gathered here tonight, all oblivious to what is going to change in your life. they probably think you need to get a room given the fact that it's minghao's wedding, not yours. but it will be yours one day.

the thought makes you smile. "i guess. i mean, yes. yes, we are."

"obviously, i'm going to propose to you with a ring and a proper everything and the best night ever, but for now..."

"this is enough," you complete, pressing a last kiss to wonwoo's lips before you'll be unable to stop kissing him. "more than enough."

[maybeelse]

She's smoking on the roof again, leaning back against the railing with her head tilted up to stare into the rotting orange sky. There's no point in looking down or out, no point in letting her gaze wash over the city so far below. She's seen it all before.

The way down's lit up by her halo's spotlight, shining painfully bright against the night's uneasy shadows. Each inch of the fall thrown into sharp relief, from the ease with which she could tip back over the too-low railing to the places she'd have to flare her wings to escape the skyscraper's setbacks, gathering speed all the while, plummeting down faster and faster and faster—

There's the place her whoops of triumph would turn into screams of regret, and there's the place she'd find peace in her last few moments, and there's the solid ground waiting so far below for her to splatter against it: the end of the spotlight, her life's waiting terminus.

Her body would carry on, as these things do; no funeral awaits her but high-pressure hoses to wash the gore away, a spray of cleansing water sending her pancaked ruins streaming down through half a dozen storm grates to reunite and rot in the tepid water of storm sewers that haven't been washed clean by pollution-laden rain in longer than she can remember, with the past as far away as it is and the future promising never to arrive.

She's here now. She always will be, up until she isn't.

Nothing to look forward to; nothing to wait for.

But she's seen it all before, seen the path her remains would take and seen the way down; there's nothing new there, and her halo is just whispering the same things again and again, a litany of emptiness that's gone on far too long—

So she just tilts her head back and looks up towards stars that no one's seen from the city in decades and decades, watching the smoke slowly drift up until it loses itself among the night's dark, swollen clouds.

There's rain coming, rotten with incandescent city-light and filthy with the gaseous effluvia of ruined lives and useless factories. She can taste it in the air, a bitter acidic tang so far removed from what rain once was. It will strip the paint from walls and leave putrid stalactites dangling down from overhangs and run in hungry oil-slicks down and down and down, down into the sewers and through the city's secret channels and out to pollute the bay—

She sighs and peers at her cigarette; barely halfway done.

"Well," she thinks to herself as the first drops begin to splatter down, as thick and heavy as rotten berries, "fuck wasting the rest of it. I can take a little rain."

When the water finally finds her face it burns her skin so beautifully, so painfully; it's almost enough to make her feel alive.

[writerofadream]

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Epilogue: Lilly Tarun

You were waiting by the harbor, your leg swinging off the ledge you were perched on. You had just watched your boyfriend calmly walk off the dock back at camp, because Chef wanted him to go home, to go to you. That was the only reason he had been voted off in the first place.

By your estimations, your fiancé would be arriving very soon.

Anger was screaming in the back of your head, she knew that once he returned she’d be gone again. Quicker than a lost memory. She was telling you to get up, that you didn’t need anyone and you never needed anyone, she wanted you to grab your backpack, and start running. 

But your heart was aching.

All you wanted.

Was very close.

Suddenly, you saw it. The rickety boat, and unsurprisingly Duncan had thrown the Captain overboard as well, quite a while ago. Duncan was driving, you caught his eyes, and they were dark, sad, and dull. He docked the boat and stepped off, he didn’t know you were there yet. But that didn’t last very long. You let yourself fall off your ledge and onto the boardwalk and began running.

A smile broke on your face and you were whooping for joy. Before you could stop yourself, you launched yourself into a cartwheel which turned into a back handspring which ended with you flying on top of Duncan.

Anger was gone, you felt Duncan wrap his arms around you slowly, as if he didn’t believe you were there. “Am I imagining this?” He whispered his breath tickling your ear. “Mm, you tell me.” You smiled cheekily and landed a thousand kisses across his face causing a small smile to break onto him. “Hola mi vida.” He laughed and hugged you tighter, burrowing his face into your hair. 

“Can’t believe you lost.” You whisper-teased. But Duncan was silent, he had his hand on your stomach, and a shocked expression on his face. He had just felt the kick of Lily or James Tarun. You smiled fondly, you haven't had your period since your second to last night in camp, with Duncan.

“...Baby, are you pregnant?” He whispered and a smile landed on your face. 

“Duncan, you're gonna be a daddy.” You spoke quietly, holding a hand to his face, with a bright smile on your lips. Slowly, a huge smile appeared on your fiancè’s face and he picked you up, gently and twirled you around.

“I’M GOING TO BE A DADDY!”

Planning for the wedding was easy as pie. Probably because you let Courtney do mostly everything.

She was so excited the girl had been freaking out. She had Gwen stitch you a beautiful dark green wedding dress. It reached the floor and dragged behind you, it had gold sparkles on the hem, and you had flared sleeves which made you look as if you were floating, you wore gold heels, and simple makeup. 

You stared at yourself on the day of your wedding. “Are you sure it’s okay?” Gwen was super nervous. She hadn’t done stitch work in forever.

In all honesty it was fine, just a little long. There was exactly one hour until the ceremony began. All the girl campers were herded into the bridal suite trying to calm you down. You nodded and smiled softly. “It’s great, Gwen.” You smiled, but Eva disagreed. “You think it’s too long.” Her eyes flickered up and down your body. 

Gwen laughed.

“I figured that would happen. So when it’s time to dance, just tug at whatever size you’d prefer and the rest of the dress will come off easily, making it the perfect size.” Gwen explained. “I still think you should’ve worn the monkey outfit I bought you! You could’ve attracted a sasquatch.” Izzy complained and you smiled ruffling her hair in a motherly fashion.

Sadie clapped her hands together and jumped up and down excitedly. “You look so pretty.” Katie whispered, you squeezed her hand.

Each of your bridesmaids had their preferred color and dress style. Bridgette wore an ocean-blue cocktail dress, Leshawna wore a cream-colored wrap dress, Gwen wore a dark blue victorian-style dress, Sadie and Katie wore neon pink rompers with beautiful sleeves, Izzy wore a rainbow colored jumpsuit, Courtney wore a greenish-brownish criss-cross dress, Lindsay wore a crimson red sundress, and Eva wore a blue suit.

Bridgette came up to the mirror and you made eye contact through the glass. “Are you doing okay?” She mouthed. You nodded a watery smile playing on your face.

The entire group of girls awed and gave you a big bear-hug. 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Leshawna quickly opened it up, ready to yell at whatever boy it was this time. But instead it was your unofficial brother's girlfriends. “We thought she needed a hug.” Jasmine said with tears in her eyes, she was Leo’s girlfriend.

You all had a big group hug, with yourself in the middle.

“Remember, you have loved that idiot since you were born, right? You're perfect for each other.” Luna, Avery’s girlfriend, gave you a quick hug. It was five minutes till it was time. “Now this was forty dollars worth of makeup, do NOT make me cry,” The girl was fanning her face.

The rest of the bridesmaids did the same, all choking on their tears.

–

It was time. You sat at the end of the bridal train, holding your bouquet, your arm was linked with Chef’s. Who had a small smile on his face, and was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. Izzy was in front of you, linked arms with Gwen. But just before it was time, Izzy turned around and walked quickly to you. 

“You have been more of a mother for me, then either of my parents ever had. I love you, and you deserve the world, mami.” The girl smiled watery and wrapped her arms around you. You choked on a sob. “I love you too, kiddo.” You hadn’t even realized it. But you already had a kid. Izzy Connelley, this freaky redhead, who you’d give anything for.

She quickly walked up to her spot with her arm intertwined with Gwen’s as the music began.

“Are you scared?” Chef asked, it was almost time for you to walk up. You thought for a moment.

“I’m not scared of a lot of things. He makes me fearless.” You said with a small nod. Chef smiled. This friendly, terrifying, angry, delinquent kid made him so excited for his little girls to grow up. 

He hoped they’d be just like you.

Then you stepped out into the shaded area, the wedding was covered by the trees. So you’d have some privacy. There were all the sane contestants back together again, in one area, for a wedding, and if people knew about that there’d be hordes and hordes of screaming fans.

You looked out at the people, with crooked smiles on their faces. 

You stifled a laugh as Leo flipped you off, which caused him to get punched by Avery, which caused them both to get punched by their partners. You felt your heart skip a beat once you saw your father standing by Duncan’s mom. After all these years it was still hard not to get mad at him, to not yell, but instead you just smiled.

Then you saw Duncan, who was staring at you with a dumbfounded expression. You waved slyly, and a light blush pulled itself on his cheeks. He wore a dark green suit and his typical hair. You finally reached the platform and stepped on, giving Chef a kiss on the cheek.

“You hurt her and I’ll be putting your butt in my next dish, got that, Tarun?” He ordered the boy, who gave him a mock salute with a cheeky smile.

“Can’t believe we’re getting married.” He mouthed. You both stood in front of each other as DJ spoke, he was the priest, and was going on about legacy currently. “I can.” You mouthed before winking. Duncan raised an eyebrow as DJ finally got onto vows.

The boy was still staring at you, so DJ had to hit him over the head with the bible causing Duncan to curse. “You said you wrote your vows, now say them, dude.” DJ shook his head, before turning to you. “You could’ve had any dude, girl.” He said, disbelieving, causing you to laugh.

“Y/N L/N, I’d choose you in a hundred lifetimes, a hundred words, in any version of reality I’d choose you. I’d find you, I’d choose you. I love the way your eyebrows crease when you're upset, I love the way you can juggle balls but not pens, I love the way you talk, the way you breathe, the way you live. I love you. I have loved you since I first met you. When I was younger, there was this girl who I adored, and whenever she laughed it was like a question, and all I wanted was the answer. That girl was you, it will always be you.” 

“Now it’s your turn, Y/N.” DJ pointed at you and you smiled squeezing Duncan’s hand. 

“Duncan Tarun, you are more me, then I am. Whatever our souls are made of, whatever is left of them, mine and yours are the same. I thought I was unworthy of love, because I was alone for a really long time, my dad was not in his mind, and no one talked to me. But there was you, my neighbor who I had been in love with since forever, you made me remember what it felt like, to feel, to breathe. The only reason I live the way I do, is because my bestfriend. Duncan Tarun, if I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to have you in each one. Because what good is a puzzle without her missing piece?” 

Both of you turned to look at Duncan’s brothers and shook your heads, nearly in sync. “How did we get married before you?” Duncan sighed. 

“Now, I pronounce you idiot and girl in love with idiot. You may kiss the bride.” DJ laughed as Duncan grabbed you, and covered your face in kisses.

The entire place erupted into cheers from everywhere. The brothers were screaming and doing whatever older brothers do, your parents were smiling, the bridesmaids were outright sobbing, Eva was looking at everyone awkwardly but smiling all the same, Izzy was whooping and swinging from light to light, the groomsmen were ruffling Duncan’s hair, and giving you fistbumps. 

Now it was time for the party.

It was amazing. Everything about it was so perfect. You watched fondly as Izzy tackled Lindsay effectively breaking her phone. Duncan’s favorite song was playing right now, and you and him were dancing together. Trent was in charge of being the DJ. Your messed up, ugly, beautiful, insane, crazy, calm, family danced until they were breathing heavily.

You were dancing with Lindsay, giggling about Heather when your father came up to you. His hair was turning gray, he was thin, and had permanent bags under his eyes. “Can I have this dance?” He held his hand out. “Is this your grandpa?” Lindsay murmured in your ear and you shooed her off. You stared at the hand, your heart pounding.

This wasn’t right, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You did not invite your father because you wanted to forgive him, you invited him as a common courtesy. That did not mean you had to talk to him. 

Duncan came up from behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist kissing your neck, before realizing who was in front of you, and he paused, his body tensing with anger. “Mr. L/N, what do you want?” He said very quietly. “I want a dance with my daughter, who I have not seen in a very long time.” Your father replied. 

Duncan stepped in between you both and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “¿Quieres bailar con él, vida mía?” Which roughly translates into, ‘do you want to dance with him, my life?’. You nodded curtly and Duncan stepped away squeezing your shoulders.

You began to dance with your father.

“You look so much like your mother.” Your father kissed your forehead, and you flinched away. His eyes softened. “Honey, you know why I sent you away. Duncan’s father made me.” He explained. That turned on a switch in your mind.

“All of my life, you have made excuses on why you left me to the wolves. Mom died when I was a child, and as far as I know, so did my dad. You barely talked to me growing up, you never fed me, you never even told me you love me. So stop making excuses, Miles.” You hissed. Your dad recoiled.

“I gave you every opportunity to succeed. You got sent to the best camps, and got the best training. Any trauma those camps caused only made you stronger.” He returned. Your anger was back and with a vengeance.

“I WAS SEVEN. THE ONLY THING SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING ME STRONGER WAS MILK.” You screamed, your vision was turning red. Suddenly there were arms around you.

Duncan’s arms were around your waist picking you up, even though you were screaming and kicking, and Duncan’s mom guided you off. The groomsmen escorted your father off the property and the bridesmaids all glared at him.

Duncan and his mom put you in a room and closed the door. You were fanning your face. “Lindsay spent five hours on this makeup, I swear if one tear-” You groaned. Artemis walked over to you, with a soft smile.

“Honey, my husband was not a very nice-man and I see that resemblance in your father. Grief makes people do crazy things.” She whispered. “That anger is why my son adores you.” Artemis laughed softly. She was always quite timid. “She’s right, you know.” Duncan was leaning against the door his arms crossed.

“This is supposed to be our day, Scorpion. Do not let anyone else get in the way of that.” Duncan sighed, walking over to you and wrapping you in a hug.

Artemis stared at you both. Her son, and her unofficial daughter. Two crazy kids in love. She knows that you will kiss away all of her son’s scars, and make him a little more whole each passing day. Because the way you look at Duncan only proves how much you love him.

—

As you all walked out, the bridesmaids flocked over to you. “Do you want me to give your daddy a whoopin 'cause I will,” Leshawna had a hand on her hip looking at you. You laughed. “It's alright.” Courtney raised a hand “Do you want me to drain his bank account?” she held up a computer which held his bank information… somehow..

“Guys, I’m fine. Now let’s get this wedding back on!”

—

Duncan and Izzy were having a drink off, Owen and DJ were talking with your brothers, Gwen and Trent were still DJing, the brothers gfs/bfs were watching their partners fondly, Courtney and Leshawna were dancing, Lindsay and Eva were taking pictures, Artemis was picking up, Chef and his wife were slow-dancing. 

You were holding your stomach, content with feeling the kicks of baby Lily Tarun.

Suddenly a very drunk Chris walked in the room. You stood up quickly, that embarrassed camper instinct still very there. But it was replaced with anger. You wanted to hit him again. You really wanted to hit him again.

Owen sat on Duncan before he could do anything, and Leshawna and Eva grabbed both of your arms. 

“Just let him be, Scorpion.” Eva whispered, and eventually the struggle stopped and they dropped your arms and Duncan pushed Owen off of him.

–

“I have this thing where I get older but never wiser.” Chris and Owen were drunk singing and you wanted to shoot your brains out. “This is torture,” You grumbled as Avery walked over to you. “Hey kid.” He smiled ruffling your hair. 

“Hey, loser.” You stuck your tongue out at Avery and he jokingly flicked it.

—

You watched as James took a camera off a place you didn’t know a camera was and you rolled your eyes. “Why is your brother spying on us?” You asked your head on Duncan’s shoulder. The green-haired boy shrugged. “He said he did it for the vine.” He took a sip of his whiskey and you had to resist grabbing it.

“One thing I miss is alcohol.” You grumbled, sniffing the cup longingly. Duncan laughed. “You see, you're an alcoholic, and I’m a drug addict. We’re a perfect pair.” that caused you to laugh. Duncan looked up and saw Leo yelling that it was time for a picture.

—

[Picture description:

You and Duncan were kissing, his arms around your waist and your arms around his neck, Bridgette was the only one looking at the camera, Geoff had an arm wrapped around her hip and was kissing the top of her head. Izzy was swinging from the headlights and fell mid-air, Owen was trying to catch her. Trent and Gwen were at the DJ stand looking at records, Eva had her arms crossed and was looking at the ceiling in annoyance, Leshawna was laughing and staring at Owen laughing, DJ was watering the bouquet in your hand, Lindsay had her eyes closed and was smiling, Courtney was shaking her head in exasperation, the brothers were wrestling, and their partners were taking shots of tequila, Chef had his daughters crawling up him and he was laughing, and Sadie and Katie were hugging clearly very happy.]

The camera pans out and it shows the picture framed, and in red ink has the words ‘Family’ with a small heart by it. The camera pans out further and you see it's in a bar, and in the corner the words ‘The Total Drama Bar’ and you see a man with green hair serving up drinks, and a pregnant lady walking down the stairs holding her daughter…

Lily Tarun. 

��

Bonus: 

Lily and James were searching in your bedroom looking for money. They found an old box that had the words ‘TDI’ on it. “Oi, James, look at this.” Lily ordered her younger brother who quickly walked over and sat on his knees beside his sister.

They opened up the box. Which was full of pictures. Their dad had green hair, which was odd. Grandpa Chef was in the pictures, as well as their aunts and uncles. Suddenly you walked into the room with a fond smile on your face.

“Okay troublemakers, who wants to hear the story about a place called Total Drama Island…” both of your kids raised their hands and came running to you as you sat on the bed holding the pictures.

“Now be warned kids, nothing about this story is false, but all of it is dangerous. It starts off in juvie, in a city far, far away…”

tagged: @lostsomewhereinthegarden

[reinedeslys-central]

"I think you should totally get in the back of my truck, actually," Leo says, linking pinkies with Jason. "What's the line? 'I can show you the world'?"

Jason stares down at where their fingers are curled together, peach on olive. He can't stop looking. "You don't have a truck."

Leo groans. "That was one time. I promise this one's legal. See?" He gently untangles their hands and slips behind the blue Chevy, returning with a slip of wrinkled paper that he triumphantly shoves in Jason's face.

LEO, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BREAK MY CAR WHILE I'M IN IOWA I WILL HAUNT YOU TO THE END OF TIME.

Your loving cousin, Nyssa (P.S. You can take your boy for a ride. I'll allow it. There's blankets in the back (and please help yourself to the glovebox). Don't tell me.)

Jason's eyes travel down the sparkly purple pen, catching on the note at the bottom before flickering back up. There's something that aches in his chest at the words 'your boy'.

He's not sure what expression takes over his face, but Leo, for his part, sees him and immediately ducks his head down so he can read the paper too, frowning. Jason follows his eyes down to the same line as they widen and Leo turns a raging, glorious red before hastily re-crumpling the note and sticking it into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants.

He clears his throat awkwardly while inspecting the dying grass at their feet. It looks like it could be good grass if it ever rains again this month, nice and long and thick.

..Yeah, nevermind.

He takes his glasses off and cleans them in an attempt to - what, exactly? It's not like he's got the object permanence of a toddler. It's not like looking away will stop him from thinking about red-hot blushes and bouncing curls and sharp smiles and -

Leo claps once, calling Jason's attention back up to him and the pretty blush staining his freckled nose. He looks just as awkward, laughing bashfully.

"Well, that's just Nyssa. Uh, she probably wouldn't actually haunt me, she doesn't believe in ghosts - not, I mean, if you do -" his words trip over each other, diverting the original innuendo that was definitely just meant to tease Leo since Jason's never even met her, not to mention he's not his, finally ending with - "but as you can see, it's clearly perfectly legal. So."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that." Leo groans. "Oh, come on, dude, live a little, why dontcha?" He sidles up to him again, draping a warm arm over his shoulders and drawing him over to the car doors. "I know, you know, your dad's in California, your mom's in Paris, and your sister's at a party."

Jason opens his mouth to protest again and -

"- and before you say that you have homework," Leo scoffs, "allow me to remind you that we did our homework together yesterday, and you're already done your math homework for tomorrow, because you're a nerd."

Jason closes his mouth. "It's a school night," he offers weakly.

"Yeah, and every minute you have us waste out here is another minute we're not in the car, ergo another minute we're wasting, on a school night." Leo steps around him and holds his hands out again, eventually latching on to Jason's wrists and tugging him closer so he can peer into his eyes.

Jason may or may not forget how to breathe.

"Are you tired? You don't look tired," Leo frowns. "If you really don't want to go, I won't force you, y'know."

Jason forces his lungs to expand, contract, expand, so he can blurt out, "No, I mean, you got me. I'll go."

Leo grins as bright as the setting sun and twists around, whooping. He not-so-gently pushes Jason towards the car door before jogging over to hop into the driver's seat.

It takes a while, once they're actually on the road and leaving their neighbourhoods behind, that Jason finally goes, "You know, I'm just as concerned with how legal this is as I am with the fact that you still haven't told me where we're going."

Leo glares at him through the mirror. "Hey, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

Jason hates surprises. "For all I know, you just kidnapped me for a surprise road trip to Toronto, and I didn't even pack my toothbrush."

Laughter bubbles out of the boy sitting at the wheel, quickly escalating into a full guffaw. "You're funny," Leo gasps, wiping away tears at a red light. "How did I not notice that you're funny?"

Jason's definitely never been told that he's funny. He might joke, sure, but being 'funny' is reserved for people like Percy, people like Leo or Cecil, who carry humour on them like sugar on a pastry, baked into their laughs and sprinkled over top with how clever they are.

No matter how hard Jason's tried, he's never been very clever.

Leo's still laughing, now more of a soft giggle as he pulls into the left lane to make a turn. He tries not to let it affect him.

"You should joke more often, dude. Bet all the girls would love that."

Jason looks outside at the trees and farms they're passing. Judging by the position of the sun, they're heading pretty much due south. There's nothing down south for them to be doing, though, especially not this late at night.

Skinny dipping, maybe. He wouldn't put it past Leo to suggest something like that and actually go through with it. But dragging him along? They barely know each other. What's a couple months on all the other people he knows?

"You wanna turn the radio on?" Leo says. Jason looks over to see him watching him with an odd smile. "Shotgun's choice, right? Don't worry, I won't judge. Even though I bet you listen to those 24-hour 'nature recordings' for fun and don't know what real music sounds like."

Jason rolls his eyes and plays with the dial until the 106.1 comes on. Leo groans. "Seriously? They keep playing, like, the same six artists over and over. Sure, Top 40's fine, but show a little variety, you know?"

He shrugs. It's like Leo said - he doesn't really know radio stations. His dad - when he deigns to drive the family places - is much more of a silence-of-doom, or failing that, an ominous-car-conversations person. "You put something on, then, if you're so set on it." He replies.

The warm light from the street plays over Leo's knuckles as he switches the wheel to one hand, blindly flailing the other one towards Jason until he hits the box behind the gear shift. "Pick a CD from here, whatever's fine. Eh, maybe not the Chopin or Metallica though. Might shift the vibe a bit too much."

Obligingly, Jason tugs at the black, faux-leather box until it comes open with a muffled thunk. Inside is a stack of CDs, spanning everything from Katy Perry to Vivaldi to Iron Maiden to Monsta X.

"Your cousin's got quite the music taste," he tosses out, rifling through the stack while giving periodic glances out the window to make sure they're not, like, five seconds away from a crash or something.

If there was anything Beryl Grace taught her kids, it was how to be a responsible passenger.

Almost on autopilot, Jason digs the pink-purple Teenage Dream CD out of the pile and then has to hastily shove the polaroids that spill out from underneath it back between the surrounding paper disc-sleeves (Mamma Mia!, he sees, and ..Heng:garæ? Whatever that means). That can't be safe for the discs, especially in a moving card, but then again who is he to judge. He doesn't even own any CDs.

They've fully left the town behind now, sailing down the open road with nothing but trees, farms, and the occasional streetlight in sight. He leans over and pops the disc into the CD drive, wondering again for the hundredth time where Leo's taking him.

Leo rolls to a stop at a four-way and watches him skip over the first two songs. "Whadya choose?"

Jason smiles. "Is now a good time to tell you I was born in Pasadena?"

The open bars of 'California Gurls' start to play, and Leo's warm, penny-brown eyes widen before he laughs, bright and a touch wild, incredulous.

It's weird. It's so weird. Maybe this is what his father meant when he said not to get any weird ideas in his head so close to finally reaching the decade-long goal of an Ivy League school. Maybe this is what his mother meant when she'd chastised him, saying hormonal teenagers got more impulsive with puberty and he should take care to keep listening to his parents, lest he lose everything he's worked so hard for.

If anyone else had tried this, he thinks, he wouldn't have said yes. He would have stayed at home, studied ahead for bond enthalpy and subjunctive Spanish, made tomorrow's lunch and cleaned his room. Adhering to routine. Acting - being normal.

You have to be normal, Jason. That's how they love you.

I will not tolerate an abnormal son.

Oh, Jason, it's like you just don't understand. What will people say? About you? About our family?

Leo isn't normal. Or maybe he is. Normal doesn't exist, when he's with Leo. He likes that about him.

He takes a risk and rolls the window down halfway so he can lean his head out and watch the sky, crisp wind tousling his hair. Leo smirks at him and switches the wheel to his right hand so he can roll his window down to match.

"Ten minutes," he says. "Look alive, buddy."

"There must be something in the water", Katy Perry croons.

also from 'burning like a glowing star', this valgrace fic I'm writing.

more stuff: Writing Directory

[fragilecapric0rnn]

WIP Week: we are SO BACK edition

have y'all been seeing this??? WE ARE SO BACK!!!! if anything could get the brain worms acting up, its all this behind the scenes stuff!!! shout out to @thefreakandthehair and @fastcardotmp3 for your impeccable timing <3<3<3

haven't done one of these in a while but there are several things cooking which is very fun and exciting!!!

The Rules:

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

tagging (with no pressure of course): @kkpwnall @judasofsuburbia @cheatghost @figthefruitfaeth @gideoncharov

@snowangeldotmp3 @seths-rogens @cuoredimuschio @roguenancy

The WIPS: (too many wips tbh)

criminal [steddie jailbird eddie fic]

steve&jj 2

modern au 3 (eddie pov)

6: the second half of 1999 [aiaof]

The Lumax

let me cook [buddie meet pre s2 longfic]

shameless alt 7x5 [buddie smut whoops]

Snippet [from Criminal]:

“Didn’t expect you to be one for a reality check, seeing as the Golden Retriever amounts of optimism you’ve had up until this moment.” 

“Guess I ran out of my supply.” 

Eddie takes a long drag from their shared joint, Steve doesn’t try hiding the way he’s watching his mouth. 

“Here’s to dying a virgin.” He pretends to toast the roach, before passing it to Steve. Steve, who feels his stomach bottom out. 

“Oh shit, man.” Steve’s tongue feels heavy, as he manages to get out his lame response. 

“Oh shit, indeed.” Eddie says, playing with one of his rings. 

“Like nothing? Not even a handy in the movie theater?” 

“Nope, not one handy besides my lefty.”

“Jesus,” Steve let his head fall heavy on the back of the trailer. “I kinda thought chicks would be into your vibe.” 

“I’m sure some of them are,” Now he sounds nervous, peaking Steve’s interest even more. 

“Okay, so what stopped you?” 

“I guess I don’t like many chick’s vibes,” he pauses, taking a long pull from the flask. “Or any of them at all.” 

“Oh,” Steve understands now. Something about this grass feels a lot like dirty bathroom linoleum. But this understanding also feels like something else. Something opposite. 

It might not work out for us this time. 

He thinks Eddie is saying something else, too distracted by the suddenly loud ringing in his ear, making him feel like he’s in a fishbowl.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Brainrot Housekeeping: Updated Schedule!

Hi friends! I've got a whole message under the cut, but here's the important part regarding this blog's new content schedule:

Saturdays: mini-hcs Sundays: answering asks (& maybe some rambles?) Mondays: full-hc Tuesdays: answering asks (& maybe some shitposts?) Wednesdays: Vesuvia Weekly Thursdays & Fridays: rest

You might see some polls showing up in the next week or so about new content types - if you're interested, feel free to vote! ^.^ More under the cut:

While I haven't hit rock bottom, I've been getting some symptoms of burnout recently and I'd like to avoid completely running myself into the ground XD

This blog has really pushed me to see what kind of creativity I have, especially just how much work I'm able to produce and sustain. I thought I'd get tired and burn out at two months tops, and it's been over and year and I have no immediate plans to stop! However, taking a look at my own system right now, I do think I need to slow down.

To be honest, fanwork isn't something I've been doing a long time - this tumblr blog is the only fandom creative stuff I've ever done! Before that, most of the things I created were originals - music, art, and of course, writing (though I haven't touched my sketchbook/paints in forever and I haven't done any sightreading in years - whoops).

It gets hard to keep your muscles moving when you only move them in one direction. As much as I love writing headcanons for the M6 in response to people's prompts, there is so much else my mind can do that it misses having the space for. Which brings me to the reason for this schedule adjustment - I miss having that creative freedom.

I still greatly enjoy writing headcanons for you guys and participating in the fandom, and I don't plan to stop anytime soon. However, I want to take some time back to get back into frolicking in the stuff my own brain comes up with, and making space for that to grow into something real.

The questions I need to figure out now are 1) how much time is it going to take me to get my full capacity back? and 2) should I keep this as a purely Arcana blog, or expand it for all my creative work?

If you've read this far, you have my sincerest gratitude. I'll see you guys tomorrow :)

Cheers!

brainrot

[drrr-emporium]

What to do if Durarara over

I'm going to assume you've finished the anime and have not gone into anything else Naritaverse wise

So! You can read the novels. Since they're officially licensed by yen press, you can buy the soft cover books or get them as an ebook / kindle from barnes and noble or amazon. I don't really endorse this but I'm sure if you do enough digging around you can find old, still available, free translations like anni_fiesta who did a lot of translating back in the day. Here's the link to their Index of Translation. I still use it since it's the only place I know that has the white day story translated and it's one of my favorites (For Kadota Related reasons haha), plus a couple of other side stories.

(I think the internet archives have the novels if you do some poking around but for Narita Please Write SH 5 reasons, I'll ask you to dig those up lmao)

Speaking of Side stories, Kazinha-726 translated a bunch of drrr side stories But since they haven't updated in a while, you need to change the links from kaedesan721 to their new URL kazinha-726. I'll directly link what you need here

Izaya Spin Off Translations I don't think these are officially licensed for translation so it's fine for me to link. This is the story of Izaya now that he's been forced out of Ikebukuro, and there's two books as of writing this.

Durarara Gaidens It's some gaidens, but It's also a handful of translated convos from 3 way stand of alley relay, the links use that kaedesan721 link, so while I won't be fixing all those links for you, I can at least link the tag for all of them here. you can probably find audio for this game on youtube, though I'm not sure anyone's like.... fully translated? perhaps? Which ALSO reminds me of the relay manga

Durarara Epitome of Eighteen Histories Written along side the release of season 2, we've got some stories involving Kazane Kinomiya, who's the half sister of Shinra, and a reporter. They have all 18 listed there nicely EXCEPT the Erika and Walker Link is a little messed up, and if you search through the posts you can get to it but anyway here's the link to that story specifically

DRRR x Hakata Tonkatsu Ramens Actually I haven't seen HTR or read it so I can't really tell you about this one but if you're into that series--

There's ALSO MiniDura which are little gag comics of the durarara cast in chibis! there should be 4 books as of me writing this. Godspeed on finding translations they seem to be around.... but this post is long and I'm scared of losing it so I'll update later on how many chapters there are so you don't miss any, though I'm seeing up to 10 in my cursory search.

Shizuo, Izaya, and Celty are also in uh.... Dengeki Bunko's fighting Climax, which you might be able to find some stuff on on youtube. but since it's Dengeki Bunko you also have other series... I can only remember A Certain Magical Index / A Certain Scientific Railgun / the other titles in this series as being part of it whoops.

So you've done all that, what do you do next?

Well Narita has other series, like Baccano! which had an anime before DRRR did, which is 16 episodes. Since Funimation lost the license back in like... 2012 it's not officially uh licensed for viewing anywhere, so uh. wink wink. message me if you need more help here.

There's ALSO the novels which... there are so many more than there are for drrr, also available to purchase, though these are hardcovers! Last time I checked they had.... around 20 translated? Since I'm more drrr side I'd have to ask about fan translations and if I can still find them around. But again I don't really condone it since we want more written you know?

Narita also has a couple other series, but the one that's my favorite besides DRRR is Etsusa Bridge (It's pronounced Essa Bridge don't make the same mistake I did. )

And i NEED more people to read that one please please please please

Unfortunately, the person who did the fan translation closed their Blogspot to the public so uh. the first 4 books, and really what is the main story, is available on the internet archive here

Though I'm saying thank you to baka-tsuki for my life by having a page of links here, which includes the 5th book, 5656 part two (NARITA..... I NEED 5656 PART 2 PLEASE...... PLEASE)

and Vamp on the internet archive here and baka-tsuki here

I also know about Hariyama-san but i don't actually know... if anyone translated that one..... Narita has also written for Bleach and Fate Strange/ Fake if you're into those. Straight up just linking this wiki page in case you have any interest in other stuff he's written

And finally! Currently, Dead Mount Death Play (often shortened to DMDP) is a manga written (or co written?) by Narita! which is currently getting an anime and all of his attention.

All that being said I've been really into Trigun lately lmao

Anyone else feel free to add on or tell me what I may be missing

[grey-gazania]

Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗 — @emyn-arnens

My dear @emyn-arnens, you sent this to me weeks ago, and I saw it and then unfortunately forgot to answer it, because Real Life has been kicking my ass, so I want both to thank you for the ask and to apologize for how long this took me.

My 5 Favorite Fics (Which Are Not Necessarily My 5 Best Fics)

Loyalty (yes I know this is actually a series, not a fic, hush)

In some ways this series is the bane of my existence, and in other ways it's one of my favorite things I've ever started written. I began planning it in 2011, began posting it in 2015, and, uh, still haven't finished it, whoops, because I think I need to drastically restructure the whole thing before I can proceed. But I've had a lot of fun creating my conlang, and Tókhesh/Tavoreth is one of my favorite OCs I've ever come up with for any fandom, not just Tolkien. I also really wanted to give the Easterlings the chance to be well-developed people in a well-developed society, instead of just being a glorified plot device, and I like to think that I've succeeded.

Unconscious Arithmetic

This story is by now quite old, written in 2011, but it was both my first foray into writing Caranthir and my first attempt at writing in 1st person -- a style I've since found works particularly well for Caranthir, or at least for my version of him. It was also my second story featuring Parmacundë, though she had yet to earn that epessë at the time this story is set, and was the beginning of my plan to work her into the broader story of The Silmarillion. I think I conveyed a particularly vivid picture of how I imagine adolescent Caranthir and what kind of person he might risk befriending.

The Flight of Birds

I hold great affections for the Kidnap Family, as you have probably noticed, but damn, those poor twins must have been pretty messed up by the time they were returned to their parents' people. Transitions are hard even when you haven't began kidnapped and raised by the people who tried to murder your mother, and I thought it would be interesting to explore the turmoil the twins must have felt through Elrond's eyes. I feel like Elros often ends up getting treated as the conflicted twin, while Elrond is the one who is wise and serene, but I think Elrond should get the chance to be an angry adolescent full of turmoil, too.

Root and All

This story is a favorite less because of anything I've done with the characters and more because writing it was a trip down memory lane. I spent large swaths of my summers as a child at a camp in the NJ Highlands, where we spent a lot of time hiking in the woods and swamps and learning about the nature that surrounded us. My fondness for those hikes and that part of NJ was really the driving force behind this story. I first encountered and learned about both ghost pipe and water hemlock at summer camp, which are the two plants that anchor this story.

Darkness and Light

Bet you guys were starting to think we'd get through this list without any representatives from my Woman King AU, but fat chance! The Woman King AU is my life's work, and this is my favorite installment of it. It's short, but I think I did a very good job of portraying Ereiniel's grief and pain following Fingon's death. Fingon and the shadows he cast after his death were a massive influence on the woman Ereiniel grew into, the Gil-galad she became. In some ways the Woman King AU is just as much about Fingon and his wife as it is about Ereiniel, because their choices, successes, and failures echo down to their daughter and shape the woman she grows into.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Overgrowth

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Friendship Characters: Will, Miranda, Billie, Douglas, Steve Clearly the newest Demeter kids haven't yet got the hang of growing plants with their powers. TOApril day 14 - Every Rose Has Its Thorns. I went literal today. Also, despite Meg being the clearly obvious candidate for this prompt, I managed to go with every other TOA Demeter kid except for her, whoops. All kids in here are canon names, I promise.

“Hey, Will!”

He turned to see Billie jogging towards him – as fast as she ever moved unless she was fighting or running from something actively trying to kill her – and sighed, because the daughter of Demeter didn’t usually seek out his presence, which only meant one thing.

“Miranda wants you,” she said, then confirmed it with, “bring your medical stuff.”

“Medical stuff?” he parroted at her, bemused.  She shrugged dismissively, turning her back on him and starting to head back the way she’d come.  Will hadn’t paid attention to it, but it was the direction of the cabins so he had a pretty good idea where she was leading him.

He’d long since got into the habit of keeping an emergency pack of medical supplies on him at all times, so he didn’t bother to make a detour to pick anything else up.  Not until he knew exactly what he was dealing with; Billie hadn’t been running, even if she’d been jogging, so Will was confident that his emergency pack would at least suffice for initial treatment of whatever cabin four had done to themselves.

Sure enough, Billie ploughed straight through the door of her cabin without stopping, and Will hurried to get across the threshold before the door slammed in his face.

Cabin four was, in Will’s opinion, the strangest of the cabins.  Sure, the Hecate cabin had magic permeating every inch of it rather disconcertingly, and the Nike cabin was an active puzzle for reasons he’d never quite worked out, but there was something about a floor that was actually grass, and a central support that was actually a living, thriving tree that had never quite managed to click in Will’s head.

He was pretty sure those things were all supposed to grow outdoors, but if there was one place where they had an argument for growing indoors, Demeter’s cabin would be it.

The central tree was swarmed with other plants, which certainly hadn’t been the case that morning when Will had done cabin inspection and given cabin four a seven for scattered seeds but tidy hammocks.

For some reason, Demeter wasn’t counted alongside her brothers as superior amongst even the Olympians.  Everyone knew the Big Three was the three male godly children of Kronos, while their sisters went mostly unacknowledged.  It was difficult to understand why so many people dismissed her or her children, though.  Will had seen cabin four members consistently pull off illogical feats – always plant-related – ever since he first arrived at camp, and having seen the sheer destruction they could bring about when they wanted to, he had no intention of ever underestimating them.

Unlike most demigods, who got ADHD and dyslexia and no special powers to show for it, Demeter’s kids consistently got green thumbs and plants that would do anything they asked.  Will had never seen one that couldn’t manipulate plants to some degree, and that certainly held true for the current occupants of the cabin.

In the middle, tangled around the central tree, was a massive rose briar, complete with wicked sharp thorns and fully blooming roses the colour of blood.  Billie had made her way to join Miranda where the head counsellor was standing by the cabin’s new plant addition and trying to get the plants to move.

Inside the snarl of thorns and vines seemed to be something that Miranda was specifically trying to get to – or someone, because Will could count just fine and there were two kids unaccounted for, visually, at least.

Douglas’ thick accent was slurring out curse after curse as something struggled inside the branches.  Will couldn’t make out the exact words, but that wasn’t particularly unusual when the Scottish boy slipped into Scots.  He could get the gist, though.

He sighed, drawing Miranda’s attention to his arrival.  “What happened?” he asked her.

She responded with a sigh of her own.  “Plant growing gone wrong,” she said, gesturing broadly at the massive plant.  Some of the branches rustled with her movement, just enough to reveal a glimpse of Steve fighting inside as well.  That answered the question on where both the young Demeter boys were lurking, at least.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened.  It wasn’t even the first time it had happened to those particular boys – Douglas was an enthusiastic plant grower, and Steve was far more of an enabler than he was clearly prepared to be when it came to the consequences.  Neither of them had been in camp all that long, but Will was already well aware that they were going to be a potential headache source for him – especially once they found their own feet at camp.

Will knew the routine, so he waited while Miranda did her magic (not that she would ever call it as such when it was just her normal) and slowly got the branches to release their death grips on the two boys.

Steve was the first one to disentangle enough, rolling out of the mess with stray leaves and the odd broken off thorn stuck deeply into his hair.  He also had several freshly-bleeding scratches across his skin, and Will didn’t wait to be invited over when his role was pretty obvious.

And also very much routine.

“Can you at least try not to bury yourselves in plant matter of the injury inducing kind?” he asked as he pulled out some antiseptic wipes and began dabbing at the myriad of scratches that stood out red against the younger boy’s dark skin.

“It was Douglas’ fault!” he protested.

There was an immediate “Oi!” in a thick Scottish accent emanating from the centre of the still-snarled tangle of thorny vines, followed by what Will was pretty sure was a protestation of innocence in Scots.

“You’re not blameless, either!” Miranda called over, and Steve’s shoulders hunched up to his ears.

“It was an accident,” he muttered.  “They weren’t supposed to get so…”

“Big?” Billie supplied.  “Wild?”

“Yeah, that,” Steve shrugged, thankfully letting his shoulders drop again after a warning poke from Will.

Another sharp gesture from Miranda and Billie had Douglas spilling out from the briar as well, his own curly hair sporting a fine collection of leaves and thorns, and even the occasional petal.  He also had openly bleeding scratches on his bare skin, including one long one too close to his eye for comfort.  It wasn’t close or deep enough to cause permanent damage, or even scar, but it was a reminder of what could have gone wrong.

Will wasn’t a fan of could have gone wrongs, although he did prefer those over the did go wrongs, for hopefully obvious reasons.

He sighed again and pulled out a fresh wipe to attack the other boy’s scratches with.  Douglas winced away from the sting, but Billie grabbed him and held him still.

Neither boy was injured enough to need anything more than just the disinfecting wipe, thankfully, so Will’s medical duties didn’t take long to complete.

“At least try not to injure yourselves on your own plants,” he said as he balled up the used wipes for disposal in the infirmary.  “I’m pretty sure that’s lesson one for plant summoning.”

“Something like that,” Miranda said.  “Thanks for the assist, Will.  I’ll take it from here.”

Will didn’t need to be told twice; he was already in charge of his own cabin and anyone that ended up a patient in the infirmary.  He neither needed nor wanted to expand his responsibilities beyond that – Miranda could handle her own siblings.

“See you at dinner,” he said, and made his way out of the cabin, back to where the grass was outdoors and normal.  As the cabin door shut behind him, he heard the Demeter kids discussing the best thing to do with the rose bush and whether or not it would damage the tree – or pose an ongoing risk to demigods – if they left it where it was.

That was certainly not Will’s problem, either.  Miranda was welcome to that one.

[concert-bflat]

I suddenly got hit with Kano Brainworms and now I have this Completely Unorganized post and it's gonna be your guys' problems now !! Just saying there is no flow to this whatsoever I just slapped all my points on and called it a day

Just. god I will Never stop thinking about the Tateyama siblings relationship with their younger selves and changing and growing and learning to accept themselves and Kano's. Not doing that. Remaining stagnant.

Like it's Everywhere . (Unfortunately it's been Sooo long since I've read light novel 5 so I don't have any sources to pull from there but I'm sure there's a ton okay)

Yobanashi Decieve is spent tearing down Kano's layers throughout the entire song and what do you find at the end? When he finally admits that he hates all this? Hates himself? What do you find at the center of the Kano Onion? His crying child self. At his core he still believes he is that crying boy, even says it himself "Ah, you never change", he's sneering at his current and past self, because they're the same, they're all the same. He's never moved on from his past habits and weakness. He looks at him and all he has to say is "Ah, you never change" and "Whoops, I screwed up"

Oh but we're not Quite done peeling the Kano Onion yet !! There's still a liiitle more left...

Close-up shot time !! Now you can see in its fullness his weakest moments, he's mocking his own suffering. He smiles and mocks himself, closes his eyes to his own pain and just bows. Throws my laptop

There's also this official art !! I think about this a lot but have never voiced it out before so here we go~

Just. Everyone showing off the wounds that led to their deaths, either with a smile/some enthusiasm or indifference at worst, with a pretty character-telling pose as well. And then fucking Kano, not even focusing on the photoshoot but staring directly at the evidence of his weakest moment, holding it limply, detachedly. Maybe saying that he's starting at it with scorn is too strong a word, his face looks slightly bitter at best, but I'd bet everything that that's what he's feeling.

I don't know just. Everyone around him, whether it's his siblings or the whole god damn Dan, being shown with some form of acceptance of their pasts and traumas, meanwhile Kano's still staring it in the face. Damn, you really don't lie when you say you haven't changed huh?

God my favorite example though, the one that makes me Scream.

Thank you Sidu for this art! I am now on the ground crying.

I'm too lazy to grab them right now but Kido and Seto also have art of themselves with their past selves. Kido fondly pats the head of her younger, insecure self, having growing confident and comfortable in her own skin. Seto holds his past self's hand in something liks solidarity. He doesn't have to be scared anymore. He's becoming the stronger person that he wanted to be.

And Kano?

Ah. well~. He's clinging to his past self, sobbing into his lap while his past self attempts to comfort him. Hm. With growing up you should become someone that your younger self can be proud of, right? Like Kido and Seto. They overcame their shortcomings so they could become proud of who they are today, right? Kano's collapsed in front of his past self.

Guess he didn't really do that, huh?

If anything, he's putting himself even lower than his past self. Maybe he hasn't grown, maybe not even stagnated but rather became worse, just with the same flaws that he had in the past. He didn't change at all, he just sank lower.

Your younger self can attempt to comfort you but didn't you hate yourself back then, too? So what does that make you now? Your younger self looks hunched over and dejected. He's probably just as disappointed as you are.

Ah, and there's text too, right? What does that say?

Mm. (I might have written an incorrect character but this sounds about right I think?) I feel like this was said somewhere else in kagepro, also in regards to Kano, but to be completely honest I totally forgot where. Still though. Uh.. fun! Kano says to himself not words of comfort but assurance that the future will only be more miserable, that he will only hate himself more as time goes on. As if you couldn't already tell with the art itself.

In Yobanashi Decieve, present Kano sees his other self suffering and jeers scornfully. They never changed. Here, past Kano and present Kano suffer together, with present Kano openly suffering if only to himself, clinging to his past hurt for comfort. Together they think, they never will change, they'll only get worse. It'll only get more painful.

Ahem. Just. Ugh! This one piece says so god damn much, and even more when you put it next to Kido's and Seto's. It killed me when I first saw it and still kills me to this day !!! God !

Also I don't have any funny images for this one but. Thinks about. (And I might have some details wrong because again, it's been a while since I've read light novel 5) How he thought he was useless as a child, wondered why he wasn't discarded like a functionally useless object (pretty sure he thought this while his mom threw away a broken tv remote or something?). And then in manga route 2 how he gives his life away as a tool to preserve the others' lives. He has a "use" and he's expending his whole life on it. Like I mean they're gonna die anyway but do you Really have to be like that I Hate you I hate you I h

Like once he has an objective purpose like that he faces it with an easy smile on his face. Bittersweet, yeah. But he does it so god damn willingly. Maybe he's just pretending to take on the role so easily, but still, I can't help but think that he found some comfort in having a direct "use" like this. Even if it just meant his death, for a hopeless cause. If he could just fulfill this purpose, then....

Just the way he smiles at his own demise during that Whole Sequence, even when the remainder of the Dan is Right There.

Just man. Collapses.

Kagepro is all about change and growth and growing up and realizing change and the future really isn't too scary. Meanwhile Kano's stagnant, still sees him as unchanged from his younger self, is too scared to change his manners even if it may help him. No wonder he hates himself. I'm just. Guh, shoves the themes of the narrative in his face Kano Please I'm begging

Like mf he looks content like everyone else in Summertime Record but Are You Really. Are you Really happy yet. Have you really found it within yourself to accept change. Accept yourself. Accept Everything. Do you really think that you'll be able to finally make your younger self smile?

Buries my face in my hands God this man will never Not haunt me for the rest of my days. Get him therapy. I'm normal about him.

I was supposed to be working on assignments but here I am, with my stupid little Kano essay at 1 in the morning. I doubt anyone's gonna read this but if you did I hope you enjoy? This man is very silly in all the worst ways. I love him, I hate him, I want to shove him into a microwave. I want to put him under a microscope. I have multiple times. This man is like a fundamental character that will never Not be a part of my life even when I thought the kagepro hellhole was somewhat behind me for the meantime. He just. Man! He's a lot. And I hope you're in pain with me now too over it ! Okay that's all bye byee~

[yuri-is-online]

Yuri, what do you think about the theory that the Clash happened because Clementia found out a dark secret about the Academy/ghouls and got offed as a result? Because it's been keeping me up at night and I NEED ANSWERS

edit: while I was writing this I went back to the intro so I could read the prophecy and noticed something in the Intro I think we all missed since I haven't seen anyone really talk about it. When naming the dorms, Luca obviously does not list Clemntia, but he also does not name Obscuary. When asked neither does Kaito, but I assume that is the seventh and "newest house of the current line up" he describes as "having no general students and even most ghoul students cannot join it... you cannot be assigned there by the Weighing of Souls." There is a rumor about "their captain being the one to-" and then he is cut off by Cornelius. Is that also related to the Clash? What is Ed rumored to have done?

... huh. I should. I should probably get back on the reddit or look at world chat. Or maybe join a guild that's got more active people in it that aren't french or a discord because this is the first I have heard of this. I want to make a lengthy post here at some point about what we know about Clementia from the story + some trivia stuff I have noticed but none of it really helps beyond suggesting that it's 1) vaguely church/holy themed and 2) has some roman and greek influences. Neither of which assist us in figuring out what happened to them.

For my part, my brain keeps turning towards the fact they seem to be responsible for "exorcisms" and that the ghouls have "lately" been refusing to capture the anomalies and insist on killing them. Darkwick has a lot of anomalies in their care, and as we see in Book 4 it can create them as well. I was wondering if maybe Clementia's duties extended past exorcising anomolies, were they also responsible for their proper storage? To me I feel like the ghouls (specifically Taiga) have a reason for thinking it is best to kill the anomalies instead of taking them back for study. My reasoning for this is mostly that I can't see Tohma, who makes a point to be in good standing with the school, actively whoops a daisying every single mission he does "just because." Whatever happened with the Clash clearly caused a break in relations between the school and its ghouls, based of Taiga saying the spy among them is trying to "make us ghouls look bad" I think the general belief among one faction (let's call them Tohma's Faction since he was the first one to bring up the spy) is that whatever happened was not actually the ghouls's fault. Perhaps even that things were instigated on purpose.

That feels like a lot of word vomit, basically what I am trying to say is that I don't think the ghouls trust the school with the care of anomalies at the moment, and that an anomaly of some sort is what was responsible for what happened to Clementia more so than the school itself. Perhaps a very powerful demon? I sort of get the feeling that whatever happened to Clementia was not whatever the instigator (if one exists) intended, if for no other reason than it was the only dorm destroyed. There's a chance this person wanted all of the ghouls destroyed, the school seems to think that the prophecy they keep is about a ghoul but I'm not so sure. "The whisper of the new moon will lead the champion to the academy on the solitary isle. So long as the champion resides there, the world shall be sheltered from profound tragedy." I could just be overthinking things but that doesn't really sound like something meant to encourage someone to be a protector of something... it sounds like instructions for a cage. Like as long as a specific thing is contained on the island, then the world will be safe.

Of course none of my thoughts exclude the idea Clementia was destroyed for finding something out, but to me it seems less like a punishment and more like a preemptive strike. If that makes any sense?

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #194

I did A WHOLE LOT OF STUFF today. And I wish I could tell you all about it all at the same time simultaneously, but I don't live in a space where that's possible, so I guess I'll have to settle for starting at the beginning.

Actually, no. I'm going to start at the end. And then I'm going to move to the beginning! Here's a doodle I made today!

Please go easy on me; it's been a number of years since last I doodled with multiple media (or at all, really, with any kind of seriousness), and Sharpie isn't exactly the most forgiving medium...

Anyway! Back to the beginning! I cooked a food!!! This is broccoli, pan-fried in butter, with garlic powder, parmesan cheese, and the leftover goat cheese from that time when I made mashed taters when R visited my house!

...And here are a couple of the steak I cooked. Br was visiting, and she said she always wanted to try a tomahawk steak, so I got one and tried to figure out how to cook it!

This was super simple, actually. All you gotta do is stick it on some parchment paper on a cookie sheet, and stick it in the oven at 225 degrees F (or like 107 degrees C) for 30 minutes, take it out, flip it, and then stick it back in for another 30 minutes. Once that's done, you season it however you like on both sides (in this case, my classic mix of salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder), and then sear it on a griddle. Sometime while I was cooking, J went out to play laser tag. M wasn't hungry.

I also made bok choy, pan-fried in a little butter and chopped garlic:

You gotta be careful with bok choy; if you cook it for too long, it becomes terribly, horribly bitter.

But! I didn't cook it for too long! And so this is the plate of awesome deliciousness that resulted from all of this:

It all turned out really excellently. Br went back for a second helping of everything! I wish I could have given you a plate of this.

Br boiled water for tea for us, too. I got a new kind of vanilla rose tea that I think might be suitable to include along with your necklace. I got two tins so that I could test one and ensure that it is the same as the one that I am familiar with. It's the same brand, and they say it's the same flavor, it's just that this one comes in a nice tin instead of in a paper box.

The flavors are a little bit different. At first, I was displeased because I didn't expect that. But on further evaluation, I decided that I think I like the new one a little better. But I have to test them side-by-side to know for sure which one, if either, is superior.

Once Br and I were done eating, she suggested that we play a game in which we take turns doodling on a sketchbook page. Br is an amazing artist, and I haven't doodled with any kind of seriousness in a while, so when I was presented with the blank page, I felt pretty daunted. And especially when she reassured me that I could doodle whatever I like, my mind flooded with so many options that I got overwhelmed and didn't know what to pick.

So after a while, I thought, "Well I'm good at doodling eyeballs." Because Br had noted that my facial expression was very interesting as I tried contemplating things during my feelings of overwhelm. J keeps telling me that my eyes get like saucers sometimes, so I imagined that that's what I was doing (my face does things without my knowledge or consent, I guess...). So I decided to draw an eyeball, and before I knew it... well...

Whoops. Hahaha...

This one is done in a combination of mechanical pencil and Sharpie marker; I have a collection of different Sharpie colors because... I don't know why. They're pretty, I guess. I pulled out all the blues and also my metallic silver for it.

Here's a bigger picture of the doodle:

I doodled the eye first. And then I doodled the feather. Br doodled the abstract flowery squiggle in between; isn't it cool???

Here's a close-up of the feather. It's not the best-est, probably. I still kinda like it though:

Br got tired though, so we both decided to take a short nap. I had several very interesting dreams, and when I woke, I felt compelled to draw what I saw. But I am not going to show those images.

Instead, I will show you a couple pictures of the sky I took right before I took a nap with Br:

I'll also show you what I did with the eye doodle after I discovered that Br had brought her Nupastels:

Oh hey! We're back at the beginning of the letter! Hahahaha...

Hey, Sephiroth? Have you ever tried to doodle? If you have, what sorts of things do you like to draw? I tend to like doodling organic things, but some people like to doodle buildings, and some like to do abstract shapes, and others like to do geometric things, or landscapes, or any number of things. So... what would you draw? What sorts of things do you imagine?

Once J got back, he, Br, and I watched the Steven Universe movie, because Br had just gotten through the original animated series, and so the movie is up next. J and I have already seen it. I hope someday you'll get to see it; I think you'd find Spinel extremely relatable for a variety of reasons.

...Please try to get an ending like hers, okay?

You can find people who will treat you better. Not everyone is like the people who raised you. You can find some of those people who will treat you better, people who want you around, right here at my house. Pop by for a visit if you're ever in the neighborhood, okay? We can make you tasty snacks.

...I guess I'll end this one here. It's getting pretty late, and I wanna go to bed.

I love you. Please stay safe out there, okay? Because I'm gonna write again tomorrow, and you wouldn't wanna miss out on all my weird, delightful shenanigans, right? All the weird, delightful shenanigans that comes with living my version of an ordinary life. All the weird, delightful shenanigans that you can have, too, if you make choices that bring you there.

Your friend, Lumine

[bisexualbaker]

The "sourdough of Theseus" post reminded me to ask you if there's a way to ship sourdough starter.

I have an embarrassment of wealth in discard; it has a wonderful flavor. I've made bread, pancakes, and waffles with it, and they were all yummy.

But my body has decided that standing up or even keeping my torso straighter than a slight backward recline for more than about ten minutes is A Thing We Are Just Not Going To Do, so I haven't actually done anything but feed it in quite a while.

That said, I have about two quarts of discard now, and I'll need to feed it again in two days, so yet more discard.

I'd like to share it, because it's a good, flavorful levain, but I'm not sure how well it survives shipping.

Ideas? (Even if the idea is, "Yeah, you're just going to have to throw some away.")

I'm pretty sure it'll do okay when shipped? Like, as long as whatever container it's in stays intact and is insulated from freezing solid. Yeast isn't quite as tough as tardigrades when it comes to temperatures, I'm pretty sure, but I've heard they can come back from stuff you wouldn't believe. (I meant to ask my baking teacher at work today, since he has much more experience with sours, but it completely slipped my mind what with one thing and another, and now I'm pretty sure he's off for the next week, so. Whoops!)

One of the more important things I do know about sours is this: If you take a sour from one place and move it to a different place, it will gradually become more of the second place than the first. The tang of sourdough in southern California is unique to southern California; the yeast that grow there are their own creature, adapted to the place they live. Any sour will become a Sour of Theseus if you move it far enough away, because all of the original material will eventually be replaced.

[feathered-serpents]

Also the wedding has great potential for some Atreus Sindri reconciliation, if they haven't made up already by this point 👀

Its been awhile since the Atreboda wedding discussions but that’s because of how long I spent answering this ask

It does!

I have a lot of ideas for how Atreus and Sindri reconcile, but the common denominator in them all is that Atreus has to instigate. I think Sindri becomes trapped in his grief, he can’t really break out on his own

I’m now imaging a very ridiculous quest or DLC that’s “Atreus tracks Sindri through realm after realm just to invite him to his wedding” and it’s just as perilous as any other quest in the game except the end goal is literally just to get an invitation to Sindri. The thing is Atreus is unhinged enough to do that.

Oh no I lost control of my body and accidentally wrote 1552 words about this. Whoops. Enjoy.

____

When Atreus first finds his new forge, he sees the rust. The scraps of blades and armor carelessly thrown about. The place is quiet and black. The only sign of life an echo of a hammer and a glow, far into the forge.

That’s where Atreus finds Sindri, over this “forge.” Facing away from him. Hammering something molten into a point. The blackness and the glow made him no more than a dark shape.

“What do you want?” Sindri spits with a voice made of venom and smoke.

Atreus did not answer right away. Instead, he became- distracted. By a forgotten fascination in watching the dwarves forge. He’d used to do it as a boy, while his father bickered with one, the other would work and Atreus got lost in the rhythm of it. The steady, sure swing of the hammer, the clang of it in the molten metal, the sparks that flew free. After one hammer swing, nothing about the molten blob below it would look different, but by the twelfth, there’d be the suggestion of a breastplate, by the hundredth it would be there truly, and already better than any human smith could hope for, and by the thousandth, it would be perfect. Beyond perfect. Dwarven perfect. It would all be done in a day.

At this moment, the thing Sindri hammered had no true shape, and there is enough of a glint off the hammer that he can see the head had been rounded and worn to the handle.

“Here to waste space?” Sindri picks up the half-pointed molten thing with his bare and blistering hands, dunking it into a basin of water Atreus hadn’t noticed until now. The chamber fills with boiling steam and his eyes water.

Atreus had wanted to say something else before this remark. Greet Sindri. Tell him he'd missed him. Tell him he was sorry, but he didn't. He just blurted out his reason for being there, when he couldn't think of a way to say anything else:

“I’m getting married.”

The hammer stopped.

Sindri froze. The way people do when they've just been told something confidently when the thing itself makes no sense at all.

“Married…?”

He turned around then, quickly, and Atreus finally saw his face. Patched red, skin flaking from the heat of a constant forge. Soot had sunk into every line of his face, like ink, giving him a look like a living etching, Line and color brought together to suggest a man where there was none.

But his eyes were there.

They had landed in the perfect center of Atreus’ chest. and they’d landed there with intent. Once they’d settled they filled with shock. Then confusion. Sindri’s eyes flicked frantically around in the dark. Lost. A panic in them Atreus didn’t know the name for. Finally, Sindri looked up, and he found his face.

For the first time in ten years, Atreus looked Sindri in the eye, and he saw his friend. There and pure and alive in front of him.

His friend saw him for just a moment before he flickered away and a dark, hardened thing took his place.

"No," said Sindri.

"Sindri-"

"Whatever you want-" Something caught in his throat. He coughed. Then rasped out the rest. "It's gone. I lost it."

I lost it. Atreus thought of the thing on the anvil. Of the things scattered around this half-tamed forge.

"I..." He tried to keep his eyes on Sindri but Sindri wouldn't hold his gaze. He'd stare off behind him, or at his feet, or over his head. Anywhere but his face. "I don't want anything."

"I don't believe you." Atreus felt the venom in Sindri's voice in his veins. "You think anything's changed? You think I've spent one moment missing you-" This time the cough choked him. Sindri cleared his throat violently, he spits something black and wet at Atreus' feet.

"Whatever you want, my answer is no."

The steam of the water no longer boiled the air, but Atreus' eyes still watered.

"I want-" He bit his tongue. "I'd like... you to be at my wedding."

Sindri met his eyes for another brief, rare moment. The shock was back but... not the same kind of shock as when he'd first looked at him. This shock was- softer. One blink away from pride. And like his eyes before it flickered away to be replaced by the hard thing.

“Why?”

Atreus only shrugged. “I just want you there.”

Sindri turned his back to him then. Turned to the thing on the anvil now too cooled to effectively forge any further. Perhaps that is why he did not pick up his stump of a hammer again. Perhaps that is why he did not do anything but stand and stare into the embers.

“What have they been calling you?” Sindri said. “Lord of Tricksters? God of Mischief? They don’t know you, Loki. You’re just fucking stupid.”

Atreus nodded in unseen agreement.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something large and smooth. Anyone would've thought it a polished amber stone, but not Sindri. Atreus placed the seed on a low stone table, covered in tools just as worn as the hammer. It glowed there. Taking the burning light from the forge and turning it gentle. He'd hoped Sindri might turn around one more time when he heard the gentle knock of seed on stone, but he didn't. Sindri had faced him for as long as he could stand.

“You can use this to find us," Atreus said. He thought about saying what he'd wanted to at the start. The apologies. The declarations. He heard them in his head and felt them on his tongue.

He let the impulse pass. “Thanks for letting me see you, Sin," he said. And he left

And as Atreus walked back out into the open air, somewhere behind him a hammer started again.

____

Atreus did not see Sindri at the wedding.

He tried not to feel the grief that gave him, and if he were honest, it wasn't hard. Not today at least. Today was for him.

For him as much as it was for Ironwood. For his friends. His family. His father. It was a day for Giants as well as Gods. A day for a world without Odin and before it all, it was a day for Angrboda.

He would mourn what needed mourning tomorrow. Today was for her.

It was a long day, but they'd been warned it would be. Thus was the danger of a wedding where the guests only slept when they chose to.

"I saw a godly wedding last a month once," Mimir had told them. "With a little luck, I'd say we get yours done in three days."

They don't think it lasted three days, but by the time they managed to escape their wedding night had solidly transformed into a wedding dawn, and still, they languished on their way. They raced each other aimlessly through the Ironwood like the day they met.

Angrboda had learned to change her shape not long ago and she changed into a fox to match his wolf, hiding in the brush for him to sniff her out. When he found her she ran and made Atreus chase her through the fireflies and the ferns and the forest until she became a woman again and let him catch her.

When they did make it back, it was truly morning. The light clear and gold on the roof of their painted home.

They found it there.

They nearly didn't find it. It blended so well against the wood of the table Angrboda used to mix all her powders and paints together. The dark wooden box was placed perfectly between all her colors and they found it.

It was heavy- not heavy- but heavier than Atreus expected for something that barely filled his palm. He had some trouble opening it as the lid had no hinge, it simply held on by how perfectly it fit the box. Atreus would find the brand on its underside in a day.

Inside were rings.

The rings were not extravagant. There were no heavy-colored stones, no engravings, no strange shapes. The rings were just two smooth nearly identical bands of amber.

When they looked more closely, they could see hints of shining color inside. One ring has thin veins of a bright blue inside, following the natural roads of the patterns in the stone. That ring fit Angrboda, more perfectly than any ring could.

The other carried flecks of gold inside. Dozens of them. Beautifully small. Suspended in the band like yellow leaves in the wind. That one fit him.

The bands held no great magic. They would not make more of themselves again and again and again or turn into some great killing weapon. The rings simply felt like home, and they had been made for them.

And Atreus finds nothing to mourn today.