#[Even A Story Has Its Heroes- Drabble]

[strykingback]

Thundering Heart, Burning Rage...

Note- This is from the Spiderverse Verse of Blade Stryker as the Thundering Flaming Spiderman! Also to further note this may contain some spoilers for Across the Spiderverse.

Also this has been placed underneath a readmore for due to possible length and plus just to avoid dashboard spam.

Location: New York City, New York Time: 10:00 PM OST: Rage of a Spider....

After what seemed like a week turned into a month, The Green Goblin had finally returned on his crime spree, destroying entire banks and robbing as much as he could all to make ends meet... well not technically but... just hungering to try and bring out one person after his assault on the Empire State Building a month ago... which lead to the death of three people... one of them being Hideyoshi Stryker....

"Hahaha!!! Just where is your Spiderman now..... he must've finally given up after the Empire State Building attack...." Green G would say using their hoverboard to fly away from the bank he robbed, while he was getting in contact with an unknown employer... until.... something on their radar appeared......

and it was fast approaching....

the Green Goblin turned their hoverboard around to see a thunderbolt striking and revealing... the flame and lightning accented Spiderman this time with both eyes glowing Red and Yellow...... this was not goood....

Just before the Green Goblin would react he and his respective Spiderman would collide together as they both growled and roared at eachother at the top of their lungs with the Hoverboard they were was spinning out of control with it hitting the sides of three buildings until it would approach Central Park as they would make contact in the ground sending both him and Spiderman were sent flying across the air and onto the ground sending both into unconsciousness.....

For a few minutes the Green Goblin laid there slowly coming to seeing the flames of his now destroyed Hoverboard. Ehh, he would just replace it... simple enough and shouldn't cost much... however, when he was about to enter unconsciousness again thinking he must have killed the Spiderman.. he saw... something moving amongst the flames.....

And out from the flames emerged the Spiderman... this time with flame covered claws and those lightning leg blades.....however, there was no wild quips from him... nothing.... only but just a low growl....

The Green Goblin quickly felt his adrenaline shoot through his very veins forcing him to come out of his unconsciousness faster than ever while he would slowly stand up ready to face this.....demon... that...

"Spiderman... wait.. you should know this was meant to happen to you.... " The Green Goblin said cracking their knuckles in an attempt to look tough while the lightning and fire spiderman stopped, allowing his face shield to open up revealing his mouth.

"And so....dont you remember what you took." He said in a very monotone voice that could send even chills down any villains spine..This SERIOUSLY was not like the Spiderman he knew....

"I dont recall what I took... but I can tell you this boy.. I am making you more stronger than you think...." Green Goblin stated with a wild smile underneath their mask...

"Lets find out....." The Firethunder Spiderman replied with his mouth shield closing as he rushed towards the Green Goblin chucking an entire piece of the hoverboard at the Green menace which they would block it away from him only to met with an x-slash from the Firethundering Spidermans heated claws. which broke through their armor and into their skin making them exclaim in pain.

Just the searing heat from it alone was painful as it sent more adrenaline for the Goblin to handle but only to be met with a punch and a kick sending him to the ground....

Looking up he only saw the Spiderman looking down on him and then... came a punch after a punch after another one, with his foes screaming turning more enraged after each punch.....then just before the Firelightning Spiderman could finish off the Green Goblin..... somehow someone came through a portal and came a Blue Spiderman with red accents using a hard light web to stop him.....

Which he slowly looked back...

"Stop.... that wont bring him back..." The advanced Spiderperson spoke.

"Really.. cause I'm about to do what my Unc would've wanted me to do cuz!" He said gritting his teeth ready to end this.

"Listen to me! You do this and you'll become the very thing you fight against! " The advanced spiderman pleaded with him... as he started to calm down... looking at the Green Goblins battered face they were breathing weakly......

Which he was standing in between two things.....becoming a monster and proving J. Jackson Jameson right......that he was a menace or listening to his uncles final words.

"With Great Power... Comes Great Responsibility"

Hearing those words ring out in his head.... as he stood up and backed up a bit... his hands trembling as they were covered in the blood of his enemy.... "S-Shit.. what... just what did I-" He said feeling the other Spiderman put a hand on his shoulder...

"Do you wanna talk somewhere?" He would ask...

"Y-Yeah...." He said turning around and shooting some webs at the Green Goblins arms and legs to keep them there.. before he would swing away with this new Spiderman...

but the moment the Green Goblin would wake up... he would realize this...

NEVER TO BRING UPON THE BURNING AND THUNDERING RAGE OF THE FIRETHUNDERING SPIDERMAN

[not-fortune-cookie]

Hey just saw your writing and I adored it and I had an idea for a story drabble or if you like it enough...a series...basically y/n is a person who loves playing cookie run kingdom but wishes to live among them. Kinda like your...special cookie story but can imagine they are transported into the game as like a weak cookie...like a common cookie. Bet that would make the cookies VERY protective of them if they like y/n lol! As y/n just lives their life and wanders around...possibly even taken on some of the adventures to see more of the world by gingerbrave and his friends, they meet more cookies who adore em aaaand want to protect em!

Bonus if ya want: reader is like...an absolute shy bean who either has no idea how to fight oooor is a pacifist.

𝐍𝐨𝐭-𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

Spoiler Alert— That's actually my concept on my story, "Wished Fulfilled". [Y/N] is called the Ruler; or most authors put it-- Baker. But in my story, they're just [Y/N] Cookie. Unique category but the weakest among the Cookies. Also, thank you for the compliments! I appreciate your kind words. I'll try finish the story soon!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                You love to decorate the [Name] Kingdom. You are their Ruler after all even it's only a day when you transmigrated into the game. However, since you didn't know how to be a cookie, there are some downsides. Especially that you're the weakest among the kingdom and its residents.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

           ��    You are quite a crumbling little thing. Your dough hasn't baked into a crispy one and your soul hadn't settled yet with your vessel. You're not allowed to be up and about yet, your legs are shaky and you're like a newborn.

                Don't worry your pretty little head, Pure Vanilla Cookie is kind and gentle with you. Standing by your side every step of the way as you practice. You're so shaky and weak, you easily fell down flat on the grass whenever you let go of your trusty staff. No wonder some of the Cookies have them—

                Every step you injure yourself, the Healer cookie never hesitated to erase each scratch from your dough. He watches your every move and even offer a hand when you need to. Eventually you'll get accustomed to your body soon enough.

                But that doesn't mean the Ancient hero will not be so protective. The young cookies can be rambunctious and run to you out of excitement to finally meet you. So he is alert and telling the young ones to not overwhelm you so much.

                Just don't traverse too far from him. He can't afford you to get injured without him to aid you. But he trusts Espresso to handle your curiosity of your Kingdom.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                This situation made Espresso Cookie appoint a research for you to easily maneuver your new body. For such a Cookie like yourself, someone who the Ancient Cookie cares for, the scientist had made sure of it that you are well taken care of.

                Despite his busy schedule, Espresso Cookie uncharacteristically dropped his current research to leash you near him. He constantly has to panic whenever his sight isn't on you. He is already disheveled and in distress before he can finally find you among the deep forest that leads to adventure to Crispia.

                But the leash he had on you won't let you travel far. He can't let you go deep in dangers out there. The Kingdom is nothing without their ruler and you had just get here.

                He has to get the best distraction for you. Do you like shiny things? He has some trinkets you can play in his laboratory. Despite not wanting anyone to disorganize his tools, he may allow you to clean up his equipment as long as you don't get far from the premises of the Kingdom.

                But eventually you got away and curiosity got the best of you. What danger lays outside the Kingdom that made Pure Vanilla Cookie and Espresso Cookie forbid you to get far?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                That's when Red Velvet Cookie find you. He lost chiffon one time and some of his cakehounds when he encountered the frail you.

                Red Velvet Cookie knew the cookies that built a kingdom for the Ruler to arrive. He was expecting someone so powerful and as vile as the residents of [Name] Kingdom that harm his precious hounds. But the way you let the little ones cuddle up to you and hesitate to even have a thought of laying a hand of them. The cookie of darkness is intrigued by your pacifism.

                So he approached you, promising himself to protect you from harm as you adore and spoil the cakehounds that refused to leave you.

                You're part of his family now, despite being on the 'good' side.

I hope this is satisfactory for a drabble :]

[meatballhead-usagi]

Forgotten Realm Masterlist

You have been an archaeologist for years now but ushered into the darkest and forgotten corners of the museum. Your chosen specialty was in the once renowned City of Musutafu - which unfortunately for you has been seen as a farce, bordering on the make-believe and whimsical in high society. But you know the forgotten empire that was Musutafu was real, it just had to be with all the fragmented evidence found over the years, but several journals discredited its authenticity and cited that there was no conclusive evidence that Musutafu was anything more than myths and storytelling from much greater (and more realistic) societies. You never regarded these setbacks, even when they landed you in the basement of said museum, cataloguing donations and doing the linguistic legwork your superiors were far ‘too busy’ to do themselves. But when a strange journal turned up on your doorstep, outlining the archaeological find of the century, you embarked on the expedition of a lifetime. To bring back something to show that Musutafu really did exist. But you didn't expect to actually find a forgotten world, thriving and hidden. Nor the crimson-eyed prince who ruled there.

Here you'll find my drabbles in this series, inspired by archaeological adventure movies and more specifically Disney's Atlantis: The Lost Empire. These will be updated as I have time, in short entries to build an overall story. Please bear in mind this will be a story that contains mature themes and sexual scenes further down the line.

◈ A Forgotten Realm (3.1K words)

◈ City of Splendour (2.0k words) NEW ENTRY! 

◈

Image taken from the Disney's Art of Atlantis: The Lost Empire workbooks. Characters based upon the My Hero Academia series by Kohei Horikoshi. All written works belong to meatballhead-usagi and are not to be reposted, reuploaded or redistributed to external sites without prior permission!! Reblogs, likes and asks are always welcomed<3

[artymcartist]

ALRIGHT because someone did want em My post s2 drabbles for the group au we're doin

I'll paste most of em here, but here's an AO3 link to the rest of the stuff!!

LUKAS SCRIVENS

- Takes up mentoring Radar in F!Jesse's absence

- He writes to her and Petra often about how things are going in town

- The new Ocelots don't disband, but with so many members, Lukas starts running it like a guild.

- He builds a little guild hall in town for people to submit requests to and for members to take them. Probably helps take a load off of Radar's shoulders as the current Hero in Resident

- Either stays with Radar or Jack and Nurm during long stays, his house out of town still stands. He's home less often. Eventually he'll possibly make a little apartment either on top of or behind the guild hall. Maybe.

- Helps in managing Beacon Town

- Surprisingly takes leading the Ocelots and helping with Beacon Town pretty well, despite his independent nature.

- The Ocelots guild gains some notoriety outside of town, and they begin getting long distance requests via traders dropping them off at the Guild Hall. Possible adventure?

---

- He's not sure how to feel about Jesse's brother at first. It's kind of weird having a near carbon copy of one of your best friends with the exact same name.

- Observes the little man for quite a while. He slowly becomes more comfortable with him. Its like Jesse and Lukas got reversed from S1

- Allows him to live in his house on one of his couches. Dewey doesn't like him for QUITE a while.

- Enjoys having another parental force for Radar. Single parenting the hyperactive young adult could be a nightmare on his own some days.

- Having Jesse around allows him to write a bit more often.

- Totally diaries about the man and his eventual acceptance of him into his life.... and eventual feelings. Because you know it's gonna happen eventually. LMAO

-----------------------------------------------

JESSE DOS MINECRAFT

- Was living out in a little village far from Beacon Town on the world's edge before his sister called him to town.

- He's never been in Beacon Town before, and is slightly overwhelmed by it at first. He quickly learns to settle in however.

- Bro is covered in scars, some you'd wonder how he even got.

- A little more blunt and reckless than his sister, but to be fair, he hasn't really seen anything she has other than the Wither Storm.

- Speaking of, he's spooked by dreams of the Wither Storm. He only ever saw the beast when it was split in three.

- After the Wither Storm was defeated a second time, he attempted to return home. It was entirely destroyed. Not a single thing was left. So he set off to find somewhere else.

- A small town, practically just the size of a village, to the far east is where he finally settles down. He helps out with basically everything in an attempt to earn his keep.

- He's initially skeptical about returning to the resting grounds of the beast, but immediately forgets upon arriving (mostly due to being entirely overwhelmed by the two towns now residing there LMAO)

- He IS amazing by how they were able to bring life back to the entirely barren wasteland the monster left in it's path. Proud of his sister's great job assisting in building the place back up.

---

- A little put off by Radar's immense energy at first, but comes to enjoy the lil fella.

- Lukas... man. He's got no words. Insanely curious about the blonde.

- Enjoys the stroll from Lukas' house to Beacon Town. He'd probably go insane living in the town itself. He occasionally stays with him and Radar when needed.

- Starts stealing Lukas' bed at night after they've gotten comfortable with each other. Though, admittedly, he got comfortable quicker knowing this man was a friend of his sister.

---

- Occasionally also writes to his sister

"DUDE you didn't tell me you knew a sick ass blonde, he's pretty cool. Not getting over the leather jacket anytime soon."

"Sad I didn't get to see Reuben again before he died. Lukas and Radar tell me he died a hero. The memorial you built for him is nice. P.S. gonna beat up whoever this 'Romeo' guy is for destroying it"

"They're telling me about this portal network you guys explored. Sounds pretty cool. Lukas doesn't like to talk about the robot thingy though. Does this 'Ivor' fella still have that atlas? I'd love to go exploring sometime."

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME JACK LIVED HERE TOO. I'm so going to beat you up next time you visit."

- He's not nearly as big of a fan as Petra is, but word goes around. Even to his itty bitty village on the world's edge

[dreadfutures]

Fan Work Friday

Rules: If you’re tagged, MAKE A NEW POST to showcase one fanartist and/or fanfic for any fandom you recommend (with links), and tag someone to give their recs next! Don’t forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in, and include these rules! :)

Bonus: Choose works by people you aren’t super tight with, or choose older works that maybe haven’t gotten some love in a while. :)

Fanartist: @kiivg

The first time I saw one of kiivg's pieces, I had the thought: I've never seen anything like this. Then I did a double-take, because even though I can't pinpoint it, this style strikes me as quintessentially storybook. It should be on the cover of a comic, or it should be a bonus chapter illustration in your favorite novel--both because of the striking style and the amount of STORY King packs into each single standalone piece.

The first of King's works I saw was one that I consider really KING now: oriented so that I had to tilt my head to get the full picture. I find it only pulls me in deeper, looking really closely at every detail before I get the full picture. Here's one of my favorites (give it a reblog!):

Definitely give King a follow. When they do post art, they have plenty of Dragon Age, Cyberpunk, and BG3 art to wow you with!

Fanfic: its free son - SlinkySpiders

The note I had in my bookmarks was: "there are elotes in gotham and this author is my hero"

SURPRISE this is a fanfic for the Robert Pattinson The Batman film, which I think is a nearly perfect hopepunk movie, and the first Bruce Wayne I've ever seen on film who NEEDS A ROBIN. So here, have a batdad and his kid.

I love an awkward man trying his best to be a parent to a kid who has the same problems he did. Let's parent our inner childs through real children, that's my weakness. Also, Dick gets to be childhood friends with Barbara Gordon, so that's great.

It's "unfinished" but I think it does just fine for what it is, and I hope people enjoy!

Rating: G Pairing: Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne & Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne Chapters: 2 (unfinished) Length: 11,678 Summary: Three years after the events of the Riddler, Bruce finds himself taking care of an eleven-year old, completely out of his depth.

That's my post for this week! I'm excited to see what everyone tags me in. It's been great to find new artists and fics through this game. :)

Tagging:

(again, for any fandoms! let's spread the positivity <3)

@thedreadblog | @noire-pandora | @wolfsskull

@demarogue | @thevikingwoman | @anneapocalypse | @fiadhaisteach | @victoriousscarf

@kiastirling

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur

@ar-lath-ma-cully | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @theluckywizard | @nirikeehan

@oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @delicatefade

@leggywillow | @about2dance | @plisuu

[coal15]

So for the tens and tens of people out there following my WIPs, I apologize that it's been ages since I posted another chapter. At first it was just a monster case of writer's block but then a potentially devastating health crisis came up--for now it looks like I'm at least not staring down the barrel of imminent doom, but it has been a teensy bit distracting. I'm trying to get the creative engines revving again, but it's slow going. I don't wanna force things and end up cranking out garbage chapters, but it's hard not to pressure myself. So to lift my spirits and maybe re-ignite some confidence, I've decided to post links to the works I'm most proud of.

**fandoms represented below the cut are Heartstopper, 9-1-1, Good Omens, Sleepy Hollow, and The Magicians. Comments welcome but certainly not required (she says whilst mewling in the general direction of her inbox)

Protected. The Magicians, Queliot. Explicit but also full of romance and cuddles. If I had to pick one project as my "crowning achievement," it would be this baby. It follows Queliot's entire life together. 11 chapters. **it even got mentioned in a list on syfy, I had no idea until someone pointed it out to me in the comments, and yes I did 100% squeal about it for days even though it was just a tiny blurb on the list

Inconvenient Mistletoe. Sleepy Hollow, Ichabbie. Porn With Plot. (lots of plot) This was the first fanfic I ever wrote. Had no intention of publishing, but in a sudden fit of daring I posted it to ff.net and it got such an enthusiastic response I kept going. Covers the whole Apocalypse and a few years beyond. Every fic I've written since then owes its existence to this one. 17 chapters.

Of Guilt and Victory. Heartstopper, Nick and Charlie. General Audiences. This one is strange in that the story is what it is because Nick can't bear the thought of finding out someone has un-alived themselves when he knew it might happen and did/said nothing to intervene. This is in regards to Ben but at NO POINT is he forgiven for what he did nor sh*tty behavior in general, but this idea just fell into my mind based on what a beautiful golden retriever of a human Nick Nelson is, and the story evolved from there. It's odd, but I'm proud of it. 7 chapters.

A Series of Odd Proposals. Heartstopper, Nick and Charlie. General Audiences. This is one of those WIPs I mentioned. 8 chapters so far. It follows them through adulthood. In the chapter I'm currently writing their daughter is sixteen.

*Discalimer re: my 911 fics* yes I've written for both buddie and bucktommy, if it offends you that I've done such a thing the solution is easy: don't read them.

All's Well That Ends Well. 911, Buddie. Teen and up audiences. The whole thing pretty much revolves around the evolution of their love story from present day into old age. 10 chapters.

Buck's Gonna Buck. 911, Bucktommy. Mostly GA, but there is a brief mention of sex toys to I tagged it teen and up. These three "chapters" are just short, ridiculous drabbles. 1) Buck's POV getting ready for a date. 2) Tommy's POV getting ready for the date. 3) The date. Just silly fun. We haven't had much time w/them yet but I'm hoping to write more for them in s8 when there's more material to work with.

All Roads Lead Back. Good Omens, Aziracrow. Teen and up. One of those obnoxious WIPs. Starts a few weeks after s2 ends. 11 chapters thus far and we're tits deep in a rebellion against The Metatron in Heaven and searching for the true Almighty. Also, Muriel is a badass.

The Long Way Home. The Magicians, Queliot. Teen and up. Eliot embarks on a desperate mission to bring Quentin back from the underworld. Angst, danger, adventure, longing, romance, humor. Even a musical episode ********Okay, so this one is unusual in that I was just about to start writing the LAST DAMN CHAPTER when the pandemic hit. And how had I planned to end it since the very beginning? Well our heroes would win the war of course, but as a last act of vicious revenge before defeat the Library was gonna . . . wait for it . . . unleash a deadly pandemic upon the world and kill millions. I came up with this ending long before the pandemic, but . . . yeah. Nope. But I couldn't think of a better idea either. So it just sat there without an ending and thanks to everything else going on in the world I totally forgot about it for like a year. And when I did remember I still couldn't come up with anything better than my original idea. Should I finish it and stick to the original plan even though it's SO on the nose? I am super open to alternative suggestions here, because if it had an ending I absolutely would have listed it right up there with Protected. Currently 12 chapters. Again, alternative ending suggestions super welcome!

[sparkles-and-trash]

Pro Hero Touya AU ~

note: this is an old au, I'm just re-writing it into a drabble in stead of the list format!

pt 1, The UA Years

I imagine things were pretty similar to canon up until around Shouto's birth, around then Endeavor has a big work accident that makes it so he can't be a pro in the same capacity anymore.

It forces him into therapy, and the family as a whole actually works on stuff and slowly starts to heal.

But even after all that, Touya still keeps gets injured from his quirk, but he manages to hide it pretty well from his parents and siblings, because he still wants to go to UA and be a pro so badly.

When he does get in, he loves it so much, it's everything he dreamed it would be, he's making some friends, and his parents and siblings are so proud of him!

But then the first sports festival rolls around, and it awakens that old feeling of needing to prove himself as worthy of everything he has, and it starts to eat at him in that old, familiar way.

He gets to the semi finals when he ends up pushing himself too far and he ends up getting really, really hurt.

This naturally leads to his family and teachers realizing how much pain he's been hiding for so long, and they all try their very best to get trough to him.

But in the end, it takes tiny Shouto, only seven years old, clutching Touya's hand while Touya is still half asleep due to the drugs and injury, telling his big brother how much he loves him, and that he please has to stop hurting himself because they need to keep watching cartoons together, and someone has to tell Shouto stories before he goes to bed, and quite frankly that needs to be Touya because nobody does the voices as good as him, and nobody else in their house makes the cereal as good as him, and Shouto hasn't told anyone this, but he thinks math is hard, and he needs Touya to help him so that he too can get into UA and they can be heroes together.

When Touya starts healing properly, he gets sent to Power Loader to get some special support items to help him out, as gets assigned a mandatory meeting with Recovery Girl every week so she can make sure he's staying healthy and doesn't hurt himself again.

It takes a lot of him to go, but every time he feels the idea of skipping the meeting start to form, he hears Shouto's little voice in his head, and he always, without a fail, attends the meetings.

pt 2, The Early Pro Years

Touya debutes right out of UA, and during his first year as a Pro, he already breaks top 20, which is pretty damn rare. Not unlike his father, much of his success is due to his outstanding numbers, but unlike his father, he is also quite popular with the public. It's definitely in a "he's a little bit of a shit, but in a fun and likable way" - way. However, he's always very nice to civilians and fans etc. Buuuut he loves to fuck around and find out, lol He is the paparazzis biggest nightmare, always doing the most to confuse them. Kids absolutely love him, partly because he's genuinely good with them, and partly because he is a fun and dynamic and looks really cool while fighting. He uses special boots and gloves that helps him control the fire from his body without hurting him to fly around, like rocket shoes and little hand jetpacks lol. When Touya has been around the Pro scene for about a year, this new guy shows up out of nowhere, and it turns Touya's work on its head a little bit. His hero name is Hawks, and nobody seems to know where he came from or who he really is, and Touya is intrigued right away, especially when the guy skyrockets up the charts like nothing he's ever seen before. Touya himself didn't really care about the hero ranks or popularity polls, he just wanted to be a good hero, and he feels plenty appreciated by the public as it is, but it does intrigue him to see someone come out of nowhere and take off like that. He decides to try to get to know the guy a little, as they seem to have a similar personalities. Touya is very surprised however, when he runs into the winged man at a hero gala and realizes he's actually quite awkward and shy, proving that he's not as trained in personal relationships as he is in public relations. While Touya started out hanging around the other young hero out of curiosity, he quickly finds himself more interested in Keigo, the person, than Hawks the hero. The way he can go from confidently saving hundreds of civilians with a charming smile and give interviews to the whole country like it's nothing, to turn into an awkwardly funny, blushing mess of a 19 year old guy in a matter of minutes truly makes Touya's heart turn into mush.

masterlist - wip list - ao3 - ko-fi - wishlist

[identityflawed]

palpatine drabble

context: a little drabble from my oc fic, repurposed. this takes place shortly after the lawless episode in the clone wars.

cw: implied drug use, implied death... idk what to tag

characters: palpatine, reader

---

The doors to the Chancellor’s public office opened with a well-oiled whir, and you were quickly greeted by deep crimson and all-encompassing gold.

The sun was setting on Coruscant, and weather control had artfully painted clouds across the sky, not obscuring the path of the sun, but burning the edges of the clouds in deep indigos and fleshy pinks. A single, blackened silhouette marred the expanse of vibrant color, sleeves flaring at the shoulders, and ice-white hair lined with aurulence like some sort of halo.

The man before you was as far removed from the angels of Iego as one could be, not that you were aware of it.

“Welcome back, Commander,” the Chancellor said as you crossed the threshold from jutting shadows into sharpened light. “I must offer congratulations on your reinstatement into the Jedi Order. Your hard work has paid off.”

“Dividends for the both of us,” you replied, polite as ever. You sat down in one of two chairs in front of his curving steel desk. 

The Chancellor stood motionless, as if considering the implications of your statement.

“And to think a lone Jedi Padawan could bring us to the brink of ending the war.” The man finally turned, his blue eyes catching the fading sunlight as he returned to his wide-backed chair. “Your Master must be proud.”

You laced your fingers in your lap, examining one of the angular decorations on Palpatine’s otherwise empty desk. “The war isn’t over, Chancellor. Grievous’ capture is…” You gestured loosely with your gloved hands. “A boost in morale, at best. Dooku would’ve been more valuable, but even then…”

The Chancellor studied your impassive expression as you trailed off into silence. His own hands steepled over the desk. He waited for you to finish your train of thought, but you made no motions to. 

Perhaps to any other person, it would seem like you were reserving your thoughts to avoid wasting the Chancellor’s valuable time, or musing openly and had come to the end of your considerations. Palpatine knew better. You was baiting him into asking a question, to permit discussion of a topic that the Council had shut down many moons ago: the implication that Dooku was not the leader of the Separatists, but the second-in-command. The presence of a Master. The name Darth Sidious.

“Grievous will be tried and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, I assure you,” Palpatine said, smoothly guiding the conversation in another direction. “There is no denying the horrors that… abomination has wrought upon our Republic.”

“Of that, I have faith,” you murmured, playing with the hem of your robe as you gazed out in the distance. “But he is not the issue. Even the staunchest of Separatists recoil at the tactics he has used to ensure victory. His trial and subsequent execution will bring relief to both sides of the war.”

“A necessary sentiment.”

“From an unnecessary source,” you countered, almost absent-mindedly, as if you weren’t calculating your every word and micro-expression with a professional finesse. “I was hoping for Dooku.”

“As were we all, but I would be hard-pressed to find a single person in the Republic willing to calumniate you over such a point.” The Chancellor smiled in your periphery. “You are the hero of the hour, and perhaps more than that.”

You let the silence stretch before speaking once more. “Perhaps I misunderstood your summons, Chancellor. I thought you gave sufficient commendations at the ceremony earlier today.”

The Chancellor looked somewhere behind you, and a service droid wheeled into the room, a tray of tea balanced over its skeletal fingers. “I wanted to speak to you privately. Eventually, the luster of your successes will fade, and some will begin to question the legitimacy of the cover story that the Jedi Council has conjured for you.” The tray was set on the desk between them. “With particular respect to the Council of Neutral Systems, whose leader you…” He rolled his hand negligently.

“Allegedly murdered, yes."

As the droid poured two cups of tea, the Chancellor eyed you expectantly. “There is video evidence. We managed to lock it down, but…”

Now he trailed off and let the implications speak for themselves. To his well-hidden surprise, you didn’t seem even mildly concerned. Instead, you reached for a small cup of tea and held it close to your chest, appreciating the warmth in the chilly room.

“You're a politician, sir. You should know the truth is often subjective,” you said vaguely. “The Council knows the truth.”

Palpatine took the first sip of the drink, closing his eyes to savor it for a moment. When he opened them again, you had shifted slightly, the hilt of your lightsaber glinting in the crepuscular light. “They have yet to share it with this office, I’m afraid.”

You stared down at the tea – a bloodred liquid, extracted from the pale pink blossoms of Naboo. “Give them time.” You took a tentative sip, your tongue swilling around your mouth. “The real story is not an easy one to process.”

Palpatine thinned his lips. “I will have to determine that for myself.”

You finally met his gaze, your eyes dark as event horizons. “You want me to tell you.” You set down your cup and leaned back in the seat. 

“It would be preferable to get the information from a firsthand source,” the Chancellor responded. “I am all too often ensconced in lies and hyperbole, and for once, it would be more than beneficial for the future of the Republic for me to know what exactly is going on in the galaxy.”

“I don’t believe for a second that you don’t know what’s going on, Your Excellency.” Your voice had no edge, but for the words. You parted your lips to say something else, but the notion seemed to slip from your mind.

Just as quickly, you shook your head, trying to clear the sudden fog that had befallen your senses. The Force seemed to draw away from you, even as you reached for it, clawed at it, seeking an explanation for the sudden shift and recoil. Palpatine stayed silent, statuesque, observing as you blinked rapidly, trying to push to your feet but realizing all too late that something was wrong.

Your vision was swimming, but you managed to lock onto the watery blue eyes of the Chancellor, realization drawing your face tight as they glinted pale gold.

“You.”

[the-californicationist]

For the ask game, if you’re willing: ❤️ and 💛

No pressure though. Love your work!

That makes me so happy. I really appreciate that, friend. Also! Thank you so much for this ask!! 🩷

❤️ — I think the line that I wrote that sticks in my head the most is from Gunslinger, which doesn’t make much sense out of context but alas:

“Let him eat your bones right up, your faithful coyote, all the brokenness within you.”

However, I am most proud of the writing that I was able to accomplish in The Devil’s Summer. It’s a hard fic to read, though. Dark stuff.

💛 — The most impactful lesson I’ve learned from this process is that you should never rush to the good part.

I have written over 95 fanfiction stories in the past year, I have 525k words inked down, and I’m sure there’s a few tumblr drabbles that I can stack on top of the pile as well. Throughout all of them, I have a terrible habit of sprinting to the part that I want to read. I’ll have it written a hundred different ways, imagined it a thousand times in my mind. Whatever it is — the big fight scene, the first kiss, the earth-shattering confessional — whatever the good part is, I hurry towards it, hungry like I’ll starve without it. But, the rush takes the glory from it. Details add to the taste, like spices to a meal, and without them, I feel like some of my big moments fall flat.

I hate slow burns. I hate writing them. I hate reading them. And yet, I’m starting to realize that I just hate waiting to see if the good part will come true.

A good slow burn, with a talented author, will drop little crumbs, small promises, letting you know what’s coming. She’ll whisper between the lines, “I know what you want. It’s here. Just wait!” And I find myself trusting those stories. Banking on them. And then realizing that the good part was only good because I consumed all of the other bites around it. If the main meal is always dessert, who wants more cake?

And I think, through this realization, I have also learned to be more patient with myself. If you knew me back in October 2023, I was churning out 150k words per month. I thought I had to hurry. I thought no one wanted to wait for me. I wasn’t worth waiting for.

But that has changed for me. I don’t run myself ragged anymore because I think I’m worth waiting for. I think my work is worth my own patience. And when I do deliver a post or a chapter or whatever, I think it shows that it was built and crafted with care, spiced and salted and grilled to be at its best.

And it has taught me just how much more learning I have to do. That desire to rush, to skip, to only eat (or read) the dessert is still there. It still taunts me. I can still hear myself in my mind saying, “Why would anyone wait on this when they can pull up tumblr or AO3 and get something else right now?” And teaching myself to ignore that negativity, to power through with my details, to trust my gut and write about all of the intricacies that I think are important; I have learned to try to listen to that part of myself. It’s becoming easier to do so.

When people bemoan George R. R. Martin for taking “too long”, I think that if people feel that way about a world class author, surely they must also feel that way about the fanwork they read. Hell, people have even stolen fanwork to feed AI machines just because they “want an ending”. And I thought that was the norm, but now I just feel sorry for those people. They can’t understand how much sweeter the treat would be if they had just been willing to wait for the work to be done in the way it was meant to be done. I feel sad for them that they will never realize the potential for what was unfinished.

I used to only read completed fics. I didn’t want to wait. I needed to know how it ends. Does the hero survive the evil? Do the lovers tell each other the truth? Does he actually fuck her in that one bed they have to share!? But not anymore. Now, I taste the little clues the author leaves behind for me. I listen to her voice as I read: “Trust me!” And so I do. I don’t mind waiting for the good part anymore. I subscribe, I bookmark, and I comment to tell them how much I am enjoying being fed.

As a writer, I need to get better at that patience. On waiting for the good part to come. It’s not always easy, but it’s been a good lesson.

[tasavvur-e-jaana]

Will you be my Valentine?

//

Old RRR drabble. A companion piece to 'Blessings Beneath the Stars'.

Not a love story, but a story about love.

Posting my old works after they were lost.

Hopefully still worth a read.

//

"Will you be my Valentine?" The younger man mapped out the words carefully, pausing after each syllable, as if tasting them on his tongue, leaving Ram suffocating with each uttered word. His breath was hitching, his throat closing, heart galloping a mile a minute as his mind worked out a million different scenarios where this was true. Alas! When did Ram ever get what he desired anyway? His eyes threatened to well up, the older man concentrating too much as if that would help keep his tear ducts in check.

"Aise hi kehte hain na Anna? Koi galti toh nahi kar raha hoon na main?" (These are the words, right? Am I pronouncing them correctly?)

The next voice, a clearer, deeper baritone brought Ram out of his pipe dream. Anna. Bhai. Bhaiya. It was extremely clear to the gond man where he stood on his relationship with Ram. He shook his head internally, his lips forming the most fake and widest smile they could which absolutely did not reach his eyes. 

"Han Bheem. Bilkul theek kaha tumne. Bas zara himmat se poochna ab. Bina koi hichkichahat." (Yes Bheem. Absolutely correct. Now just say it with confidence.) His hands involuntarily reached to fix the bow tie for a millionth time even if it was perfect from the start. His thumb brushed the bow, fingers itching to touch the skin beyond the fabric just once, a pent up desperation that resurfaced once more, the close proximity and the fresh scent of the curly haired man not making it any easier. 

Ram brushed his knuckles on the jaw as if to check one last time if the beard was trimmed properly and was still fluffy. Bheem giggling like a little girl at the cold touch of the slightly trembling hands. The younger man looked away, eyes cast down as he took Ram's hand from his face into his own. "Anna! Bas bhi karo! Kitna theek karoge? Main koi film ka nayak thode hi hoon?" (Anna! Let it be! How many times will you adjust it? I am not some hero of a movie.)

Tum kisi bhi hero se kai zyada khubsurat ho meri jaan! (You are far more handsome than any hero, my love!)

He wanted to say, to confess, to blurt out the words dancing on his treacherous tongue. The older man clenched tight to prevent them from escaping. He took a deep breath, chastising himself internally, yelling at his splintering heart to keep it together. Only a few minutes now and then he'd go into the forest and let it out. Only a few minutes. He could do that! He'd endured years of torture, what was a couple of measly moments?

"Shush!" He said out loud. "Sab perfect hona chahiye aaj ke liye." (Everything should be perfect for today.)

"Per-fect?" Bheem mumbled the words under his breath and was reminded how Jenny had taught him. "Aah!" He exclaimed, thrumming with exciting and nervous energy, "Jab mere perfect anna ne mujhe taiyaar kiya hai toh kaise nahi hoga sab perfect?" (When my perfect anna has groomed me then how will it not be perfect?) He beamed. And how Ram wanted to grab him at that moment and kiss him, shake him,  to stop him. To let him know that Ram loved him more than anyone ever could… truly, deeply, madly, irrevocably. Ironically it was the precise reason Ram had to let him go. Not that it hurt less. But when did it ever? Ram and pain were entwined together more than any soulmates could be. 

Nonetheless, Ram could not help the blush that crept its way up his cheeks, painting them crimson. He smiled. A partly genuine smile of course because how could he not when Bheem was a sight to behold- dressed in pale blue shirt with embossed check design on the softest cotton, with a dark grey trouser, a cute little matching bowtie and those suspenders. It was an outfit that he had gotten for the younger man when Bheem had gushed to Ram about asking Jenny on this valentine’s day. It was sort of their anniversary and Ram gave him the idea to wear western clothes for her. Not because he’d get to dress Bheem again and the fact that he looked absolutely ravishing in the form fitting attire. 

“Kuchh bhi mat bolo Bheem! Tumhe Jenny ke saath flirt karna hai- uske liye bacha kar rakho yeh sab…” (You really don’t have a filter, do you? Save all this flirting for Jenny.) He faux reprimanded. The heaviness in his heart relieved a little at the joy emanating from Bheem. It was contagious, the happiness that the honey-eyed man spread around without even realising it, the older man feeling lighter, a little bit jubilant at his friend’s elation. Bheem pressed his hand once, which was still enclasped in the calloused, huge palms of the younger man, as Bheem retained all the sincerity in those wonderfully deep doe eyes as he began. “Ram,” he began, the older man’s heart skipping a beat and starting to once again. He was sure to die from arrhythmia because of Bheem one day. 

“Shukriya. Maine kaha nahi aapse.” (Thank you. I didn’t say it before.)

“Bheem iski-” (Bheem it’s-) a palm on his lips stopped his words and his breath alike.

“Mujhe keh lene dijiye. Main samajhta hun aaj ka din mohabbat ko manaane ka din hai, haina?” Ram nodded, as the younger man took away his hand making Ram miss the warmth. “Chahe wo aashiqui ho, dosti ho, ya kuchh bhi. Pyaar ke kai roop hote hain aur mujhe lagta hai un sab ka apna tavajjuh hai. Koi bhi ishq kisi dusre se kam nahi. Toh aaj main aapse bhi yeh kehna chahta hun, main aap se bahot pyaar karta hun- hamesha hi karta rahunga. Aapki dosti mujhe jaan se bhi zyada aziz hai, Ram.” 

(Let me say it. As I understand, today is the day to celebrate love, is it not? Be it amour, friendship, anything else. Love has many forms and I think they all are equally important. No love is lesser than the other. So, today, I want to convey this to you too. I love you- I will always love you. Your friendship is dear to me more than my life, Ram.)

Suddenly Ram was engulfed in one of the trademark Bheem bear-hugs. Those hugs had the power to cure every ailment. And Ram was held so tight, his heart which was torn and tattered and wounded, began to heal. How could he ever be a thorn in the way of happiness of such a pure being? How could he ever demand Bheem be only his? To Ram, this was the moment he realised he would bury his feelings deep, because there was no point. He could be fine, admiring Bheem from afar, being his close friend, his confidante, his support and his wingman till he was needed. The younger man’s contentment was paramount. 

He clutched the gond man tight, relishing every morsel of affection bestowed on him, cherishing the little moments, fully aware that life would only grant him so much. And that it had to be enough. Amongst all the life’s curveballs that had come his way, meeting Bheem was the most unexpected and the most amazing of them all. After all said and done, the curveballs within the curveballs of their journey- it was a loop really, Ram had been extremely grateful that Bheem had chosen to be his friend. If not more. 

"Bheem main-", (Bheem I-) they separated, the older man reluctant to let him go, still holding him by the waist. 

"Anna!" An interruption. "Jenny akka aapko kab se dhundh rahi hain aur aap abhi tak yahin ho?" (Jenny akka is looking for you and you are still here?) A breathless Lacchu stopped just a few feet short of the embracing duo. Ram loathed his timing, cursing under his breath, his hands slipping away to his sides, his head hung low. Leave it to Lacchu to ruin his special moments. He wanted to glare at the newcomer, but finally after what felt like an eternity he was beginning to tolerate his presence, his friendship with Bheem. Ram absolutely didn't want to jeopardize that. 

"Offo! Der ho gayi!" (Oops. I’m late!) Bheem turned in a blink ready to leave, Ram plastered a wide grin on his face to wish him all the luck, not that he needed it. Before he could, the gond man turned once again, facing Ram, looking at him with utmost excitement, “Ek baar aur dekh lo. Sab sahi hai na?” (For the last time, is everything alright?)

Ram laughed, a pearly laugh that sounded strange even to his ears, Lacchu smirking knowingly in the background. He ran his fingers through those soft styled curls once more, making them more unruly and fluffier if it even was possible, a halo around the honey-eyed man- how could he not? It was the perfect opportunity. “Bahot sundar lag rahe ho Bheem.” (You are very handsome Bheem.) He could not keep it in, eyes growing moist again, lips turning infinitesimally down as his hand slipped away. What Bheem did next was so unexpected that Ram nearly had a heart attack. “Shurkiya!” (Thank you!) He yelled with unbridled enthusiasm and pecked Ram on the cheek as he ran off to meet waiting Jenny across the dusty path paved in the greens. 

Ram smiled softly, his eyes twinkling as he brought his hand to his cheek, which was tinged with red at Bheem’s gesture, the fingers then pressing demurely, a feather soft touch on his lips- 

"Ishq bhi badi kutti cheez hai, hai na?" (You're so far gone, huh?) Ram was startled by the familiar voice. Shit! He'd totally forgotten about Lacchu who was still standing there. Ram turned away, kicking the ground. The dust swirled around and settled in a moment, a patch of semi dried grass uprooted. Now that Bheem was gone, the melancholy returned. All the thoughts that his positivity was keeping at bay came rushing in like the waters when the doors of the dam are opened. 

“Han, han! Tum bhi Jale hue pe namak chhidak ne ke maze le lo!" (Kick a man when he’s down, why don’t you?) he quipped and instantly regretted it. He opened his mouth to apologise the next moment only to be countered by the younger man.

“Kuchh logon ki tarah meri woh aadat nahi hai. Tum jaante hi ho." (Unlike some people, I don’t do that.) A simple statement that cut him deep. A self-deprecating chortle rang empty in the woods, Ram trying to laugh his pain away. His eyes met Lacchu's and to his surprise, Ram found the younger man serious, not at all mocking contrary to his usual patented Cheshire cat grin when he's making fun of Ram or belittling him. 

"Mujhe maaf karna. Kisi aur jagah ka rosh kahin aur nikal gaya." (I am sorry. It’s just that I am not processing it right. I am frustrated with something else entirely.)

"Aaj ke liye kshama hai tumhe." (I forgive you. Only for today.) It was yet another surprise that Ram was not ready for. It must have been apparent on his taken aback expression because Lacchu chuckled. “Kya? Insaaniyat ke naate keh raha hun, yeh na samjhna ke tumhe puri tarah se maaf kar diya hai.” (What? Don’t think I don’t hate you or have forgiven you for anything else, this is purely on humanitarian basis.)

“Lekin tumhe kaise?” (But how did you know?) Ram was perplexed. He had tried immensely hard not to reveal his true emotions. But he really should not be surprised. Lacchu was a keen observer after all. 

“Main bhi isi naav mein sawaar hun, Ram.” (I am sort of in the same boat, Ram.) The gond man solemnly stated. “Aur main andha nahi hun.” (Plus, I have eyes.)

“KYA? Tum- Bheem-” (WHAT? You- Bheem-)

Lacchu laughed hard, almost doubling over, tears in his eyes. “NAHI!” (NO!) He howled, “Ewww! Tum aisa soch bhi kaise sakte ho? Duniya mein aur insaan nahi hain kya?” (How can you even go there? There are other people in the world, you know!)

Ram was sheepish. Well, it was only Bheem who was constantly riding his thoughts. He was consumed by the man and Bheem- he stopped the thought right there. “Toh phir kaun?” (Then who?)

“Tha koi. Lekin main toote hue dil ka dard jaanta hun, khaas kar tab jab woh tumhare samne hi rahe.” (There was someone. But I do know the pain of a broken heart. Especially when they are always in front of you, in your life.)

“Hmm… ajeeb baat hai na? Itne sare log jo mujhe chahte hain, izzat bhi karte hain, apna maante hain. Aur ek tum hi ho, jo nafrat karta hai mujhse, jiske saath iss tarah se ek raabta ban raha hai. Tum hi ho jo meri vidambna samajh sakte ho.”

(Hmm… it’s ironic, isn’t it? All the people who love me, revere me, think of me as their own. And only you, who loathes me, can understand my plight. Only you can get what I am going through.)

“Oh toh hum wahan jaa rahe hain?” (Oh, we’re going there, are we?) Lacchu mumbled. Then as if something struck him, he rubbed his hands together, striding in the direction of the deeper jungle. “Chalo mere saath.” (Come with me.)

“Kahan?” (Where?)

Lacchu turned around, running towards the huts, his own which was not far away from Bheem’s, shouting, “Ruko main aata hun.” (Wait. I’ll be right back.) He returned in a few quick moments with a leather-cover in his hand. “Main yeh bina madad nahi kar sakta.” (If I’m going to do this, I need external help.) And initiated his trek again into the foliage. Ram wordlessly followed. 

They walked for a while in the dense lush greenery until their path was blocked by a humongous teak tree. Lacchu started to climb the rope ladder and Ram followed, both settling on the machaan (tree house) on the study branches. The atmosphere was serene, sunlight playing the most alluring game of light and shadows with its evening colours of orange, red and pink with the vivid emeralds in the leaves. Ram was mesmerised. 

“Itna waqt bitaya hai maine yahan phir bhi har jagah nayi lagti hai. Utni hi khubsurat, utni hi mohak.” (So many months spent in this place but everything still seems new. Still beautiful, still mesmerising.)

Lacchu meanwhile was rolling up a joint, the smell of weed wafting in the air as he opened the packet. He was sitting beside Ram, his legs dangling down the wooden floor, one hand flat on the back supporting his back. He lit it, taking a puff, replied. “Mujhe toh saalon ke baad bhi yehi lagta hai. Aasan hai, kudrat se mohabbat karna.” (I feel that even after years now. It is easy. To love nature.) He continued, taking another one, offering it to Ram who politely declined. He shrugged. “Bas insaan mujhe pechida lagte hain. Prakriti bilkul sateek hai. Tum use chaaho, woh tumhe zaroor chaahegi.” (It is only humans that I find cumbersome, complicated. Nature is simple in a way. Love it and it will reciprocate.)

Ram smiled. “Kya tum isiliye laaye ho mujhe yahan? Mera dil behlane ke liye?” (Is that why you have brought me to this place? To deflect my mind?) Lacchu nodded. “Kyun?” (Why?)

“Yaar tum sawal bahot karte ho.” (Man! Do you ask a lot of questions.) Lacchu offered the lit doobie to the older man. “Lo. Piyo ise. Kai cheezein saaf dikhai dengi.” (Come on. One puff. Things will be clearer.) Ram thought, what the fuck, taking a drag and coughing up immediately, his eyes watering, his lungs burning up with the smoke. “Aram se.” (Slowly.) Lacchu patted his back, taking the joint back from him. Ram settled down eventually, his eyes red rimmed, as he brushed off the tears. 

“Paani hai yahan?” (Water?) he rasped. Lacchu pointed him to a corner where there was one earthen pot with a clay mug. Ram gulped down the cool liquid, coming back, sitting cross-legged away from the edge. 

“Ek baat kahun tumse?” (Can I say something?) The younger man began, not really waiting for Ram to respond. “Tumhe Bheem ko bata dena chahiye. Jo tumhare mann mein hai.” (Tell Bheem. Tell him what you feel about him. Everything.)

“Kya? Ke main usse pyaar karta hun? Uske saath rehna chahta hun? Tum pagal toh nahi ho gaye ho? Kitna maal phoonk liya jab tak main paani pi raha tha?” (What? That I am in love with him? That I want to be with him? Have you gone completely mad? How much did you smoke while I went for a glass of water?) He jested. 

“Han. Woh sab jo tum uske liye mehsoos karte ho. Pura pura izhaar kar do. Main tajurbe se keh raha hun. Andar hi andar ghut kar marne se achha hai ke ek baar mein hi manjhra tamaam ho jaaye.” (Yes. Everything. All your emotions, your desires. I am advising by self experience. It is better to rip off the bandaid once than to die a little every single day.)

“Aur kya? Bheem ko kho dun? Hamesha ke liye?” (And then what? Lose Bheem? Forever?)

“Woh tumse pyaar karta hai Ram. Shayad us tarah nahi jis tarah tum karte ho lekin utni hi shiddat se jitna tum usse. Kabhi na kabhi toh use pata chalna hi hai. Behtar hai tum khud hi bata do. Tumhara raabta, tumhari dosti har woh musibat, har woh mushkil se ho kar guzri hai ke itne se iqraar se nahi tutegi.” 

(He loves you, Ram. Maybe not in the way you do but no less intense. With the same fervour. And he will come to realise sooner than later. It is better if it comes from you. Your relationship, your bond, it has passed every damned test there could be and is still going strong. I don’t think it will break with this confession.)

The words pierced profoundly within Ram’s soul. The fact that Lacchu was saying them gave them a sound meaning because he knew this was a man who did not mince his words, his emotions. He was the one to say it straight, without any hesitance, with complete honesty which frankly was terrifying at times. This was one such instance. The rationale was settling in the older man’s mind, the cogs reeling in the direction, the only dilemma was- why was Lacchu being kind to him? Obviously, he was a wonderful, compassionate human but it was never directed at Ram before now. It was only for a couple of weeks that the younger man had been less testy, almost neutral in Ram’s vicinity. The last conversation they had was when Lacchu had given Ram the ultimatum that he would forgive Ram when he would and Ram had wordlessly and readily accepted that.

“Kya tum ab bhi yeh sab insaaniyat ke naate kar rahe ho?” (And you are still doing this for humanitarian purposes?) he had to know. 

“Bilkul. Humara aapsi masla jo bhi ho, main tumhe ya kisi ko bhi itni maayus halat mein nahi dekh sakta. Kya karun? Accha aadmi jo hun!” (Of course. We may have our problems, but I cannot see someone this desolate and heart broken all the damn time. Can’t help it. I’m a good person after all.) He chuckled, making Ram’s lips turn upwards. The older man felt a hand on his shoulders then, he turned to see Lacchu grabbing his shoulder in solidarity. 

Another memory floated beneath his eyelids, another time, when Lacchu had placed his hand on his shoulder in a similar manner, only then, it was a desperate plea for help and now, it was one of assurance. How the roles had reversed! However this time, Lacchu was not betraying Ram as he had done to the younger man. Ram could see it in his eyes, the earnest expression, the heartfelt offer. Even if the younger man would vehemently deny it, there was a flicker of forgiveness that Ram caught in the dark orbs that made him look away. He really did not deserve such altruism from anyone, let alone this man. It only made him respect Lacchu more, the will power, the virtue, the morals he had. 

“Shukriya Lacchu. Main iss kabil toh nahi ke tumhe kuchh bhi-” (Thank you, Lacchu. I am not even worthy of your-)

“Shushhh… maahol mat kharab karo ab.” (Hush now. Don’t ruin my buzz.) Ram conceded, asking for the joint instead, taking a puff slowly this time, getting the hang of it as he released the smoke in the air. Lacchu grinned at him, pleased with himself, his smug face loving each second of the buzz. 

The two men sat there silently after that, exchanging nothing but the drags until the cigarette burned out, watching the sun go down on the horizon. Ram may not have found his love on the day of valentine, but he did find a beautiful human being he could connect with. Someone who understood him better than he himself at times, someone who treated him like a normal person and not a hero, or a leader, or a brother. Someone who gave him reality checks when needed and was not at all interested in coddling him. They were absolutely not friends, just two men who had stumbled upon the complexities of life and love and lost- finding their way back.

//

Not making a taglist because, well, most people I knew are not so involved anymore.

Comments are always appreciated.

[takami-takami]

yes yes to everything u said.

i genuinely think ur literally such a good writer like not even just for hawks but for any thing the way u write or see things is just yes chef's kiss. its so true so many people have so many misconceptions about hawks, they love to dumb down him as sad and flirty its as if they only saw two scenes of him and ran with it.. they make him either a extreme pervert (wtf lol?) or "not touchy" also I bet hawks has had a cooking hyperfixation at one point but hawks is actually a really good written character ((most of the time hes just a dude but with a lot of hero training + wings) at first i never liked mha but i have sm appreciation for the characters stories, i hope tumblr doesnt eat this because i sent smth yesterday but i dont know if you got it (it was a fluffy imagine) sorry if u get spammed my phone is shit, i have literally so many random essays abt characters i promise u nobody would be complaining if u analyzed and made essays abt hawks but ur feeding into my addiction of birdman tho😔 point is : you actually see what he actually is lol he isnt stupid he knows what hes getting into.. about getting corrupted from work if that means he can save one more person, he's one of the few characters ive seen written well about lesser of two evils yk? i think thats why hes really likable but also upsetting, when having to do something when they "ask him" when it isnt really a " question"/"ask" its also annoying when people hate him for reasons *(esp with twice stuff)* when he didnt really have a choice under so much pressure and sm consequence.. his personality isnt only just work even though he doesnt get to explore his own likes often i really hope at the end of the manga or whatever he ends up okay cause it would be so tragic if he was a done deal and died or forever trapped in the hero stuff, i havent caught up with the manga i saw some spoilers and now i want too..but even if he does end up um.. :( .. it's okay cause he was still a good written character but he deserves to be in the story still lol

ALSO I DONT KNOW IF THE DOG THING WAS JUST ONE TIME THING BUT IT WOULD BE SO CUTE IF U NAMED HIM/HER and like we all accept the dog as your follower's inside joke and bring it up every once in a while or in other drabbles :) it was so cute ahhhshsh remember to take breaks if you ever need one - have a medal 🥇👺

AAAAAH I APPRECIATE THIS SO MUCH!! I love seeing other people pick apart the bird boy too. I agree mha is like, really fun because of the character stories in particular and there's so much care put into how they write hawks. I AGREE that Hawks hasn't had the oppurtunity to really explore who He is outside of his work, like so much of his identity is tied to that and I think he notices that too? It's part of why he thinks about a society where heroes are bored and have too much time on their hands so much (though I think his primary goal is that he wants to keep the world safe; if heroes have too much free time, that means there's no one that needs saving/help).

I may bring the doggie back!! I'm glad people like him <333

If they kill Hawks I legit will not be okay but I HOPE THEY WON'T TOO!!! HE DESERVES TO THRIVE AND BE HAPPY!!!!!

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Patreon Exclusive Drabble Preview - Boku no Hero Academia (God!Aizawa Adopts Eri)

Hey, there! Check out this preview of a drabble I wrote for my Patrons and consider unlocking the full story and more cool things for only $3 a month by clicking here!

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Eri

Rating: Teen Audiences (rated for references of injured characters)

Alternate Universe: God and Deities (Sequel to: “hear my prayer up above (and come join me down below)” and “as above so below (just so)”)

Original Prompt: You know the same thing happens to Eri only she probably tries to sacrifice herself so no one can use her quirk for evil and now Shouta is just collecting children. …realized that Eri would have tried to sacrifice herself to be free of her 'curse'. Heck, maybe she tried to get rid of her 'cursed' Quirk by a purification god, but since its not literally a curse her prayers weren't answered. Then she heard Chisaki and the others talking about this other god they had plans for. One known for destroying power, so they were going to bind him to get rid of all Quirks. So, in the dead of night, she Calls for him. She Calls for him thinking that she will finally be rid of her evil power. And he comes, but what came next surpassed all of her expectations. Shouta get to to indulge in creative smiting and acquires a daughter in one day. Hizashi mentioned kids maybe once or twice, but after millennia of talking himself out of parenthood he has no reason to hold back now. Dadzawa is now activated.

Word Count: 2,440

                                                              ⁂

Hands shaking, Eri curled her fingers into her gown, so very careful not to touch anything as she peered around the doorframe of her room. The hallway on either side of her door was empty with no one in sight. Straining her hearing, it didn’t seem as if anyone was around the area, either. It was supposed to be nighttime, but she could never tell for sure with how far underground they were.

Still, it would have to do. She was going in for more tests tomorrow and the aftermath of those always left her so exhausted that she could barely think, let alone do what she needed to. She wasn’t sure how much time she had, either.

She had never been taught how to pray to the gods and deities in the world, but she figured it had to be innate on some level. Quirks were, after all, and even with her cursed quirk she still knew how to use it — sort of. She knew how to avoid using it, at least.

[cevansbrat0007]

For this: I have to say the family moments first, specially the funny ones bc they bring me a lot of comfort and hope (sometimes I dream about having a big family too, even if it's this chaotic ksksks). I'm always re-reading that drabble where poor Bibi enters the bedroom when they're doing the dirty (her being mad at Andy is just too much 😭😭😭); the whole "Cookie" saga; the dinner when they ask when they're gonna have boobs; the "daddy, don't be a hero" fic; Katrina coming out to Andy; the fic where all FOUR of them walk in the bathroom when Andy and reader are trying to have some alone time kskksks

But some things couple related too: their first date - love love that one! It's a fic I'm always going back to as their story progresses bc it's like looking back and realizing "fuck, they were meant to be from the beginning. Literally, she could've fled the city but there was no way they could've been apart." You created such an amazing world for them that I can't even imagine them not being together. 💗

I also love the fic where they're having a picnic and encounter that racist prick (the old man). I really loved how you displayed the situation in a very layered manner: like, that man really didn't think he was being a dick while still "praising" them both (veiled racism at its best), his wife didn't agree with him but well, she married him and probably at a young age so there's no way she doesn't know her husband 🤷‍♀️ From all the fics about racism you wrote, this is the one that I liked the most, it's very realistic ♡

I'm sorry it's taken me a couple days to respond to this, but I really appreciate your feedback. I'm so glad that you've fallen in love with Andy and Reader, as well as their little family. While I still have yet to feature RoRo in her own fic (it's coming), I've definitely tried to give each of the Barber kids their own individual personality. Sometimes cute and funny, other times ridiculous. And in KitCat's case (Daddy Lessons), serious.

My goal with Growing Pains has always been to tell the ultimate love story. Which, let's be honest, is a very ambitious endeavor. But I wanted to show just how committed Andy has always been to the Reader - even from their very first date. You're absolutely right in saying that she could have tried to flee the city after Merry-Go-Round Magic, but it wouldn't have worked. Because they were always meant to be together. And our Andrew Barber as we know him will never stop chasing his woman.

He is completely and utterly devoted to her. And she, him.

And as for your thoughts on the racist prick in Cool For The Summer, I really like how you unpacked the layers that I tried to weave in the fabric of that story. I wanted to demonstrate that Andy and Reader figured out how to be a team and fend off the bullshit (in all forms) pretty much from day one.

They're best friends, partners, and lovers. Forever.

Thank you again, my sweet, sweet friend for supporting my Growing Pains Series - as well as Andy and Reader's journey. I sincerely appreciate it. And you!

[radarrider87]

A World Lost to Time (Tears of the Kingdom Drabble)

(The following story was inspired by the third trailer for The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, released in April 2023. The contents of this story are pure conjecture.)

The blood moon rises at the end of time.

She kneels before the ruins of her kingdom, rubble strewn across the marble floor, shattered windows revealing a crimson sky. She reaches for her fallen hero, the dark skin of her hand gently stroking his scars. The tears on her face have long since vanished, and all is lost.

Time no longer exists in this place, only death.

You are not alone.

The princess shivers at the sound. These words, like a breath of wind, traveling across distant lands… How is this possible? There is no one left to speak them. The malice has spread throughout her kingdom, leaving no survivors save for the princess herself.

Please… you must find me.

This is a dream, she tells herself. This is the deepest wish of her broken heart, to have something left in this world, something worth fighting for.

Magic. She can feel its presence, growing warm around her neck. The princess lifts her hand away from this empty husk, this body that once held the spirit of courage and hope. She touches the gemstones resting upon her chest, and she feels the unmistakable heat within each and every crystal.

The goddess magic is alive. It is calling to her.

She stands within the wreckage of this royal sanctum, blue-green eyes looking to the sky. Her white gold hair sways with the wind. She can feel a presence on the horizon, the one who promises hope for a lost world. And somehow, in her heart of hearts, she knows who has spoken these words.

It is herself, from another time, another world.

“Please,” says the princess, tears once more gliding down her cheeks, mirroring the white tattoos under her eyes. “Please tell me what to do. Tell me this is not the end!”

For a moment, there is only silence. For a moment, only the malice and memory of her kingdom’s demise weigh heavily upon her heart, and then that weight is lifted.

She can feel the largest gemstone rise from her chest, the centerpiece of her royal jewelry lifting the necklace and smaller crystals high into the air. It floats before her, pure and golden, this single teardrop talisman.

Find the others. You shall find our spirit within.

She steps outside the sanctum, the shining gemstone guiding her onward. A dark poison corrupts the air, eager to devour all that remains. It attacks, shredding the hem of her gown to white ribbons, threatening her person, but she can feel the magic fighting back.

“By the courage of Farore,” whispers the princess, “no more.”

There is a pulse, a mighty heartbeat of goddess energy, and the poisonous air disperses. She walks across the bridge unhindered, her dark legs confident in their stride, and then the world trembles. A distant mountain splits under the megaton force, creating a constant standoff between dueling peaks. The shockwave advances, crumbling the stone beneath her feet, but before the bridge collapses, she can feel the magic lift her into air.

“By the power of Din,” proclaims the princess, “no more.”

Yet even as she floats above this wild, shattered world, there is something darker lurking beneath the surface. It is something that has plotted and festered and hated her for so long that it has forgotten the reason for such hatred. All it can do now is rise with the blood moon and take away all she holds dear.

It is coming for her. It is coming to break the shield of magic that stands between the princess and certain doom. All of the magitek and all of the constructs of her people could not withstand it, but she will make one final stand. She will face the jagged claws and twisting horrors of the beast that now descends from the sky, surrounding her on all sides. 

“By the wisdom of Nayru,” shouts the princess, her words crossing the boundaries of space and time, “no more!”

She reaches out, golden light rushing from the palm of her hand, slaying the beast that brought such ruin to her kingdom. The monster lashes out, striking with a vengeance, but it cannot defeat the goddess. It cannot withstand the pure energy of a single golden tear, now radiating from the princess as she spreads her arms and legs. Her white gold hair tumbles across her back as she looks skyward, giving herself completely to the goddess.

And then, only silence remains, a peace and silence purchased at too high a cost. The magic fades to a glimmer, bringing this daughter of a lost kingdom to rest atop a great plateau. She kneels upon the scorched grass, true tears streaming from her eyes, for even in victory, she knows the end has come.

A gentle wind touches her shoulder, and once more, she hears a voice from far away. This is not the end. Look to the skies.

The princess turns her eyes upward, for what else can she do? As she gazes upon the horizon, a horizon once overpowered by that foreboding moon, she now sees tiny points of flickering magic. One rises over the desert, a rich and amber glow. One drifts over the eastern sea, a single drop of sapphire light. A star of emerald green soars over the northern hemisphere, under the watchful ruby eye that rests atop the highest mountain in the land.

These stones, these tears of the kingdom hold the memories of your world. They hold the promise of a new world.

As the golden tear comes to rest in her palm, the princess cradles the gemstone close to her heart. She knows this talisman holds great power. She knows it has come to her from across untold eons, a remnant of worlds long gone and a promise of worlds yet to come. Yet even still, after all that has been lost, the promise of new life seems so unreal, so fragile. She cannot let anything take it away from them.

“I will see you again, my love. I promise.”

And as she wraps her hand around the tear, the Zonai princess releases her hold on this life, letting the magic remake the world.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46609282/

[laslow]

i don't want to be lonely, i want to be loved (team verdane finale drabble)

once more, everything flickers and goes dark.

laslow blinks against the harsh lights. he's a little dizzy, like when he does too many spins in a row during dance practice. he shifts his weight, finding his center of gravity while breathing slow.

everything's too still, too lifeless. that voice....is this all another dream, then? meant to test the limits of their endurance? but to what end? and what of the women and children? he looks over his allies, relieved to see everyone alive and (mostly) in one piece.

"heh, quite the party now, isn't it?" but there's a nervous edge to his normally cheerful demeanor. gaze sweeps out over the town. it's a stage, clearly, one with predefined roles they're meant to fill.

(if your life was a story, what role would you play? he used to think the dashing hero, or the roguish side character who made everyone smile. now, he's not so sure.)

the others begin moving. laslow watches their progress, poised on the balls of his feet should this prove to be a trap. weaponless, he's not much of a threat; still, he'd rather be ready for anything than caught on his back foot.

------

none of the choices are particularly appealing. the thinly veiled threat in the voice motivates him even less. but, he's a performer, if not by trade then by blood. shoulders square. spine straightens. he gives his remaining allies a bow. "may lady fate smile upon us yet!"

with that, he pivots on his heel and gracefully walks forward. (this voice said to dance. he will not show off his talents for one so heartless.) he passes a few of the marked x's, noting their dreadful scenes. mouth twists in distaste as the mannequin being run through with a sword. he quickly averts his gaze, landing on another mannequin, this one with hands outstretched.

laslow feels a tug in his chest. he follows, own hands guiding those of a young-looking mannequin through practice swings.

------ Heavy silence descends across the frozen town, almost loud enough to echo and give form to the cavernous void beyond its walls. Suddenly, with jittering, irregular movements, the young looking mannequin beside Laslow turns its head around on its shoulders, then its arms wrench from his grasp and rotate backwards and plunge the weapon in its hands into his stomach. Laslow loses -3HP "ɎØɄ ₳ⱤɆ ⱧɆⱠ₱ɆĐ, ɎØɄ ĐØ ₦Ø₮ ⱧɆⱠ₱" rumbles layered voices from somewhere deep inside of it.

The booming voice returns with laughter. "What do you think?" she says viciously. "Damned by perception. Chained to assumption. Slave to fate. The world will see you as it will." The laughter quiets into a thoughtful hum. "You are empty-handed." And at these words, anything you might have been carrying disappears from your hands and pockets. "But out of generosity, I will allow you to take a prop." "Think of one and it will be yours, but your hand must fit its mold."

it happens quickly.

laslow shouts in pain, in surprise, stumbling back a step. damn, that hurts. he presses his hands against the wound, swaying in place.

you are helped, you do not help. well, that's plain rude.

teeth grit against a fresh wave of agony. gaze finds maria's, and he attempts a smile that's far from reassuring. (there's a thin trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.) he shakes his head once. no, thank you. please stay safe.

you are helped, you do not help

that hateful voice booms again. he holds out his own trembling hands, suddenly transfixed by the bright red tracing the grooves in his palms.

a man of passion, a slave to fate, empty-handed.

but he's never been empty-handed, has he? clutching mother's fingers, twirling dancer's rings, picking flowers, swinging a sword.

he let her hand go. the rings fell. flowers wilt. all that remains is the well-worn hilt of a blade, the familiar weight a comfort. in his future, in his past, in a different world completely--he's always faced it with a sword at his side. (does that count as helping? aren't soldiers-- --helped. told where to go.)

fingers twitch. A bloodstained blade, trustworthy and viciously sharp appears. he tries not to think about whose blood drips from the end.

The bloodstained blade appears in both Laslow's and Farina's hands as well, but their arms move against their wills, turning the blade against themselves and plunging it through their middles. To Laslow, it whispers you are no fighter. "Have you not yet learned?" The voice returns sounding both amused by your suffering, and disappointed at the same time. "If another believes you a villain, then a villain you shall be." At this, she laughs bitterly and the lights disappear all at once. "Do you understand the role you play?" asks the voice.

Distantly, he hears the cruel laughter as he falls to one knee.

He squints against the lights. Tried to locate his friends but he can’t see beyond the glow and understanding sinks in with every beat of his heart.

you are helped, you do not help he’s alone. His worst fear, now on stage for anyone to see. What did he tell Soleil, all that time ago? Laugh. Smile. Surprise your enemy.

His laugh comes out a horrible, wet cough, fresh pain lancing along his abdomen. There’s nothing to hold the doubt at bay, no charming smile that can erase his fear.

Another slow blink. The mannequin seems to waver, features taking on a more familiar cast. No, he’s never understood his role in life. Certainly not the one fate made him play time and time again.

Recognition hits. Tears well in his eyes. He’d never wanted to take a human life, hadn’t known the toll watching someone’s soul fade would take. The risen were soulless, creatures of magic and smoke. Nothing could have prepared him for the alternative.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to the apparition of the first life he’d ever taken. It haunted him for days—they were both two boys afraid to die.

He lets his other knee sink to the ground in surrender. Attempts one last smile. “…I never…fancied myself a fighter. More…like a lover.”

Finally, Laslow and Frederick encounter one another at the edge of town. Both endeavor to change fate, so fate shall be changed. Frederick turns his back and drops his artifact. Laslow lunges for it. The sorcerer becomes the victim, the villager a fighter. Both Laslow and Frederick lose -3HP. On his third incorrect answer, Laslow disintegrates into black motes. Laslow can no longer participate.

[cerriddwenluna]

Week 6 of the @gleedrabbleblog!

This weeks prompt: Hero

I have so many feels about this prompt, we'll see if I manage to write some of them down this week 🤞🏻

Warning: this is a sad one and I made myself cry while writing it 🙈 Extensive headcanons and full song lyrics will be under the break for those interested ♡

1.

"What's that?" Blaine asked while cleaning out old storage boxes. 

"I'm not sure," Kurt says, holding up a VHS tape. "It only has a date on it from just weeks before mom died." 

"We'll watch it together then."

The video opens on Burt pulling an exhausted looking Elizabeth to her feet as music plays softly in the background. He gently cradles her in his arms and they slowly dance across the living room. 

"Did you ever know that you're my hero?" She sings out in a shaky, but beautiful voice. "I can fly higher than an eagle, for you are the wind beneath my wings."

"Blaine, I–" Kurt chokes out with a sob. 

"I know love, c'mere," he says, holding his husband tight. 

Now technically, this is 123 words, but 23 of them are song lyrics, so I'm counting it as 100. It would have killed the story to edit away even more ;) ♡

While I firmly believe Kurt's mum was called Elizabeth, I am a bit more ambivalent about how she actually died. In this case its from an unspecified disease that means they knew her earthly end was coming.

Kurt was too young to fully grasp the enormity of it all, so they gave him a videocamera for his birthday so he could capture as many memories as possible, knowing he'd appreciate it later on.

Anything Kurt does, he wants to do well, and tiny lil' Kurt the videographer wasn't any different. Imagine him walking around with his camera glued to his hand 24/7 and you get the picture.

I imagine adult Klaine being somewhere in their late 20's. They are wildly successful and just moved to their first real family home in preparation for the arrival of little Feta. Cue cleaning out storage and bringing over some stuff from Lima now they have the space for it.

This makes it about 20ish years since he made that video, so no wonder Kurt doesn't remember it. He's been fairly emotional for a while, and very focused on (found) family ties and legacy. Any parents reading this might recognise these pregnancy symptoms ;)

There is a lot more that I could tell about this, so maybe one day I'll write it all out in a short fic 😊

Also, I never knew it till I went to write this drabble, but I now firmly believe that this is secretly what Kurt associates with his 'It's got Bette Midler' tattoo ♥️

Song lyrics for reference:

Wind Beneath My Wings - Bette Midler

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

It must have been cold there in my shadow

To never have sunlight on your face

You were content to let me shine, that's your way

You always walked a step behind

So I was the one with all the glory

While you were the one with all the strength

A beautiful face without a name for so long

A beautiful smile to hide the pain

Did you ever know that you're my hero

And everything I would like to be?

I can fly higher than an eagle

For you are the wind beneath my wings

It might have appeared to go unnoticed

But I've got it all here in my heart

I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it

I would be nothing without you

Did you ever know that you're my hero?

You're everything I wish I could be

I could fly higher than an eagle

For you are the wind beneath my wings

Did I ever tell you you're my hero?

You're everything, everything I wish I could be

Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle

For you are the wind beneath my wings

'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings

Oh, the wind beneath my wings

You, you, you, you are the wind beneath my wings

Fly, fly, fly away, you let me fly so high

Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings

Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings

Fly, fly, fly high against the sky

So high I almost touch the sky

Thank you, thank you

Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings