#ALWAYS KICKS KATHRYN

[baylardian-1]

Kinda a redraw of this piece requested by @puppycillz like embarrassingly a LONG time ago (2022 🫣🙈), I never forgot and it's always haunted me!!! It's just a very hard pose to pull off with that many bodies. 😭😭😭😭😭

Bit of a fantastical stretch of a scenario and bed lmao. 😂

BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it at least goes with the funny idea that Chakotay gives up his fleet commander's quarters on Voyager to the Paris family lol.

[reaper2187]

Kathryn hahn x female reader

The "Hot Ones" set was bustling with quiet excitement, a controlled chaos typical of pre-show preparation. Camera crew checked equipment, producers murmured among themselves, and a makeup artist made last-minute adjustments on Kathryn Hahn. Y/N sat across from her, observing the scene with a familiar calm. They had just finished working on a movie together, and now here they were, about to test their spice tolerance while answering questions that would dig deep into their lives and careers.

“Ready for this?” Kathryn asked, her wide grin flashing toward Y/N as she adjusted the lapel of her shirt.

Y/N smirked. “Born ready.” At 23, Y/N had already made a name for herself in horror, playing twisted killers that haunted the nightmares of many, but her recent turn as Knightmare in the Marvel universe was opening new doors. Her character, the daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins, was dark, complex, and thrilling to portray—just the kind of role Y/N loved.

Kathryn, on the other hand, was an actress with a range as wide as her laugh. The two had worked together on a thriller, a gritty, emotionally charged film, and the chemistry between them on screen had been palpable. Off-screen, that chemistry had turned into a solid friendship. And now, under the glow of studio lights, about to dive into an increasingly spicy array of wings, that camaraderie was about to be tested.

The host, Sean Evans, strolled in with his signature warm smile, taking a seat across from the two actresses. “You ready for this?” he asked, echoing Kathryn’s earlier question.

Kathryn gave a mock-terrified look, glancing at Y/N. “I thought I was until I remembered how much Y/N enjoys hot sauce.”

Y/N chuckled, her deep voice soft but edged with amusement. “I have a pretty high spice tolerance, so you’re in trouble, Hahn.”

Sean laughed. “We’ll see about that. Kathryn, Y/N, welcome to Hot Ones—the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Let’s get started.”

The first wing was harmless, a simple kick of flavor without too much heat. They both handled it with ease, bantering back and forth about their experiences filming the movie. Sean jumped in with his first question for Y/N.

“Y/N, you’ve been known to dominate in the horror genre, playing some truly terrifying killers. What’s it like to play someone so evil, especially being so young?”

Y/N wiped her fingers with a napkin, thinking about her answer. “You know, it’s funny because I don’t think of them as evil when I’m playing them. I try to understand what makes them tick, why they do what they do. It’s more about understanding the character’s pain or trauma that leads them to those dark places. I’ve always been fascinated by the psychology of horror.” She glanced at Kathryn, who nodded in agreement. “And honestly, it’s pretty fun to play the bad guy. You get to let out all that chaos you’d never allow in real life.”

Sean nodded, intrigued. “And how does that translate into playing Knightmare in Marvel? She’s still dark, but she’s got that anti-hero edge.”

“Oh, definitely,” Y/N replied, leaning back in her chair. “Knightmare is all about redemption, but she’s also struggling with her nature. She’s the daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins, so she’s constantly fighting against her darker impulses. There’s something relatable about that—fighting your inner demons, you know?”

Kathryn cut in, laughing. “It’s wild because Y/N, in real life, is the least threatening person ever. You wouldn’t guess she plays these intense, terrifying characters by the way she’s so laid-back.”

Y/N gave her a playful nudge. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

They moved on to the next wing, which had a noticeable increase in heat. Kathryn started to feel the burn, her eyes widening slightly, while Y/N stayed cool, eating the wing like it was nothing.

“Okay, Kathryn, this one’s for you,” Sean said, holding back a laugh at her reaction to the spice. “You’ve had such a versatile career, from comedy to drama, and now this thriller with Y/N. What’s it been like switching between genres?”

Kathryn blew out a breath, fanning her face. “Whew, that’s hot. Uh, yeah, it’s been a wild ride. I love that I get to explore so many different kinds of roles. Comedy will always be my first love, but I also love getting into the grittier stuff, like our movie. There’s something so cathartic about diving into those deeper emotions.”

She turned to Y/N, her eyes bright. “Working with Y/N was a dream. She’s got this quiet intensity on set, and it just pulls you in. You can’t help but feed off of it.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “You make me sound like some brooding method actor.”

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

Y/N grinned. “Maybe a little.”

The third wing brought the heat up a notch, and while Kathryn squirmed in her seat, Y/N remained as calm as ever. The difference between their reactions was obvious, and it made the dynamic all the more entertaining for Sean and the audience.

“You’re not even breaking a sweat, Y/N,” Sean said, half amazed. “What’s your secret?”

Y/N shrugged casually. “I just like spicy food. Grew up eating it. Plus, after playing a serial killer in all these horror movies, I guess my pain threshold’s pretty high.”

Kathryn laughed through the heat building in her mouth. “You say that so casually, like, ‘Oh, just another day at the office, murdering people and eating fire.’”

Y/N gave her a sly smile. “Pretty much.”

The fourth wing hit hard, a noticeable jump in spice, and Kathryn visibly winced, reaching for her water. Y/N, however, still appeared unfazed, though she did take a sip of her water just to stay hydrated.

“You’ve worked on some pretty intense scenes together in your latest movie,” Sean said, wiping his own brow. “Was there a moment during filming where the tension on set was almost too real?”

Kathryn let out a deep breath, eyes still wide from the spice. “Oh, man, there was this one scene where Y/N’s character is supposed to be chasing mine down this dark alley. It was late at night, cold, and Y/N is just in full killer mode. She’s got this look in her eyes, and even though I know it’s all acting, for a split second, I thought, ‘Oh my God, I’m going to die.’”

Y/N laughed softly. “I do remember that. You gave me this look after we cut, like, ‘Please don’t ever look at me like that again.’”

Kathryn nodded emphatically. “Exactly! You scared the hell out of me, but it made the scene so much better. That’s what I love about working with you. You’re so committed, and you push everyone around you to be better.”

Y/N glanced down, almost shy for a moment, her masculine energy softening under Kathryn’s praise. “I just want to make sure we all bring our best, you know?”

They reached the fifth wing, and by now, Kathryn was struggling. Her face was flushed, and she took frequent sips of milk between bites, while Y/N continued to soldier on, a subtle sheen of sweat on her brow the only sign that the heat was affecting her at all.

Sean jumped in with another question, this time focusing on their personal dynamics. “You two clearly have great chemistry, both on screen and off. Was there a moment when you realized you clicked as friends?”

Kathryn looked at Y/N, a smile curving her lips despite the heat. “I think it was during one of our rehearsal breaks. We were both exhausted, and Y/N just pulls out this deck of cards and starts doing magic tricks. I lost it. I didn’t expect that from her at all.”

Y/N chuckled. “Yeah, I was just trying to lighten the mood. Rehearsals can get intense, and I figured a little distraction wouldn’t hurt.”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Magic tricks? Really?”

Y/N nodded. “It’s just a hobby, something I picked up when I was younger. Helps with the hand-eye coordination too, which is useful when you’re playing someone who’s good with knives.”

Kathryn shook her head, laughing. “See what I mean? Full of surprises.”

The sixth wing, known as "Da Bomb," was infamous for its brutal heat. Kathryn braced herself, biting into it hesitantly, and immediately regretted it. Her face contorted in agony as she reached for her milk, gasping slightly.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is insane.”

Y/N took a bite, her expression neutral for a moment before she nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, this one’s got some kick.”

Sean, looking slightly devilish, leaned in. “Y/N, you’ve got a high spice tolerance, but even you seem to be feeling this one. Has anything ever rattled you on set the way this wing is?”

Y/N considered the question, her voice steady despite the heat. “Honestly, the only time I get rattled is when the stakes are high for the scene, like an emotional climax. I can handle gore and action all day, but the scenes where you have to really tap into something vulnerable—that’s the

stuff that gets me.”

Kathryn, tears in her eyes from the heat, managed to nod. “Yeah, those are the hardest. You get so wrapped up in it, it’s like you’re baring a part of yourself.”

Y/N reached over, patting Kathryn on the shoulder. “You’re doing great, Hahn. Almost there.”

They finally reached the last wing, the infamous "Last Dab." Kathryn looked at it with dread, while Y/N calmly added an extra dab of sauce to hers, a cocky smile playing on her lips.

“You’re insane,” Kathryn muttered, though her voice held admiration.

Y/N winked. “Gotta go out with a bang, right?”

They both took their bites, and Kathryn immediately regretted it, her face turning red as she reached for more water and milk, anything to dull the fire. Y/N winced slightly, but powered through, still in control.

Sean laughed, amazed. “Y/N, you’ve officially survived the hot seat! Kathryn, you too—barely.”

Kathryn, still recovering, gave a shaky thumbs-up. “I don’t know how I’m still alive, but I made it!”

As the interview wrapped, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her calm demeanor intact, while Kathryn fanned herself, still feeling the burn. Despite the spice, the bond between them was undeniable, strengthened by their shared experience on set and in life. And as they exited the stage, laughing and teasing each other, it was clear that their friendship—like their careers—was built to last.

This is the second one as a little sorry for not posting

[cbrownjc]

I'm late to all of this but, frankly, Voyager as a show broke my heart back in the day to the point that I left Star Trek fandom. I've only been catching up on, well, EVERYTHING with regards to Star Trek and the actors involved in each other shows since I just finished binge-watching Star Trek: Picard a day or so ago.

And can I just say, not only as an old-school Voyager fan, but an old-school Janeway/Chakotay from around when Season 2 of the show first aired? THIS EXPLAINS SO MUCH AS TO WHY KATE MULGREW NEVER REALLY WANTED A JANEWAY/CHAKOTAY ROMANCE TO HAPPEN AT FIRST!!!

Seriously, by the end of Season 2 she had quietly begun to accept the section of fandom that was loudly calling for it. But before then? She was always trying to talk up someone else for Janeway. Even at one point saying that Tuvok would have been a better fit.

Back in the day, I always kind of wondered why; and even wondered if it was because she and Beltran just didn't click outside of character or something. Now I know -- it's because she probably always knew he was a dick.

After seeing so much like this about the man, I actually now feel some peace that Janeway and Chakotay never got together. I'm actually happy they didn't, even! And I mean, this is coming from someone who has their ship initials in my username because it was the username I created when I first joined AOL and the Star Trek boards there to talk about Star Trek: Voyager and chat with other J/C shippers.

Even after, as I said, the show broke my heart when it came to that ship, I still kept their ship-name initials in my username.

Right now, I just hope with whatever Star Trek media they create that has Janeway in from now on, they never hook her up with Chakotay. I now realize I pretty much hated his character by the end anyway before I knew about this stuff anyway (there were only whispers about him back in the early '00, right before the show ended).

Janeway has always deserved better than what that show gave her, especially writing-wise. Now I can just -- fully -- add "better main love interest" to that long list as well. If they ever want to hook Janeway up with Chakotay in some new reboot universe with different actors playing the parts, fine. But I can now happily wash my hands of that ship when it comes to the original Voyager series.

Still a douche....

More twitter fun from the dumbass.

And then he gets Chakotay trending by blocking a bunch of people.  Pretty anyone who disagreed with him.  Have fun in your echo chamber!

[steelycunt]

any advice/book recs for getting out of a slump

hi!! i am currently also in a reading slump and have been for the last few months starting back at uni aha but in terms for getting out of one id recommend starting with short, easy reads. the point of reading obviously is not to just say youve finished a ton of books but i think that the sense of completion that comes when you finish a book can help get you back into reading and obviously its quicker + easier to get that with a small book rather than to try and get back into reading with a really heavy dense read where theres no end in sight and youre much more likely to give up...so yah! short easy reads id say stuff that makes you happy maybe guilty pleasurish reads..and then once youve got through a few it might feel less draining to start a longer one. as for specific recs here are some books under 200 pages that i love:

anything by claire keegan! specifically small things like these, foster, walk the blue fields and antarctica (two short story collections).

bonjour tristesse by francoise sagan.

boulder by eva baltasar.

franny and zooey by jd salinger.

we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson.

giovanni's room + if beale street could talk by james baldwin.

the passion by jeanette winterson.

panenka by ronan hession.

the archive of alternate endings by lindsey drager.

kick the latch by kathryn scanlan.

a single man by christopher isherwood.

swimming in the dark by tomasz jedrowski.

all quiet on the western front by erich maria remarque (just over 200 technically but i love it so bad...)

hope you find something you love bab!

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Family Included (4) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three

a matched set (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: “Mum,” he says, and his voice sounds like a balloon about to burst from happiness. “Mum, would you do me a favor.”

(a mother's view of the christmas adventure)

Air Hockey (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Christmas fic where neko!dan, who has a horrific past, faces his greatest challenge yet: meeting his fiancé’s family…

An Alternative Bahamas Incident (ao3) - Do_it_with_the_Howell_Lesters

Summary: Phil is set to be the best man at his brother's wedding, but his mother insists on him bringing a real date. So obviously he asks Dan to be his fake boyfriend for the week. But can Phil’s heart really take that? Can Dan’s?

And I know the yearning will always remain (ao3) - Kavat

Summary: Kathryn drops off Phil and Dan at the train station.

antisocial (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: normally Phil loves when Martyn comes over, but right now he just wants to talk to Dan

Bear (ao3) - Mysticallykai

Summary: As a child, Dan was easily frightened and needed comfort; that was when his Nana first gave him his Pooh Bear plush, as something that could keep him safe. Over the years, the plush became his absolute comfort, even into adulthood. When Phil comes into the picture, he makes Dan even more comfortable; through the good times and bad.

bundle up, baby (ao3) - angelmichelangelo

Summary: dnp taking their little kid for the first time to the iom for christmas

there's nothing more exciting than a child's first christmas

Christmas Coming Out (ao3) - FandomFeels17

Summary: He didn't intend to come out to his mum in his future mother in law's kitchen at Christmas... But here he was, doing exactly that.

clouds parting (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Phil’s never been good at thinking things over while in motion, not the way that Dan is. But the first pieces of the decision happen then, making his way down rain-soaked pavements, everything a steely, soggy gray.

(secret holiday, autumn ‘21)

growing up or just going down (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Phil is 15 years old today. He's going to have the best birthday of his life, to kick off the best year of his life.

Right?

Happiness Without Followup Questions (ao3) - Bandom_Squirrel

Summary: Dan is having a hard time accepting that he is happy. A late-night chat with Phil’s mum might be all he needs.

home for christmas (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: kath and dan have a chat on christmas day

ice is slowly melting (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Dan's mum brings Colin on a visit.

It's going to be fine. (ao3) - Septic84

Summary: Scared out of his mind, Dan takes Phil home to meet his family.

I've got you, brother (ao3) - Findus26

Summary: Dan is visiting his family and as always, things turn sour quickly.

Dan wants to run back to Phil, but somehow, he finds himself in his brother’s room for what might be their first ever honest conversation.

In the Light of the Moon (ao3) - rainbowchristy

Summary: Dan Howell’s never had any friends. Why? Because he has a superpower. One that he can’t control. Luckily, the new kid at his school doesn’t mind.

Leave it to stew (ao3) - chiridotalaevis

Summary: They weren’t, you know, hiding that Dan was here, but perhaps Kath didn’t need to see slightly slobbery faces (don’t judge, Phil is just a very enthusiastic kisser), Dan’s bright red cheeks and Phil’s slightly untucked pants. They just were not exactly Kath presentable at this moment.

maybe this christmas (ao3) - blackbirddan

Summary: In all the years they've known each other, Dan and Phil have never been able to spend Christmas Day together. And it's looking like they still can't, even with how much things have changed this year. Unless...

a.k.a. Dan’s family spend Christmas in the Isle of Man.

meeting the parents (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Dan is ready to meet Phil's parents.

Right?

My Happily Ever After (ao3) - tol_but_smol

Summary: Royalty AU! Phil is a prince and Dan's his servant

reconnect (ao3) - Rawritsamehh

Summary: Dan reconnects with his mother after a very big email.

sometime, stranger (ao3) - dieofthatroar

Summary: Karen's thoughts on a little boy she thought she knew

transparency (ao3) - indistinct_echo

Summary: Dan and his parents have about as honest a conversation possible when none of them are quite willing to tell the full truth.

we're like two halves of one heart (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: dan's grandma might not have understood what being gay meant, but she's here for dan now in an important moment of his life.

Weight on my Shoulders (ao3) - ByTheFire

Summary: When Phil starts getting some unexpected gifts from his dad he starts to worry if he knows something he is not ready to share. Thankfully Dan is there to make it all a bit less scary. All Phil can hope is his dad doesn't want to change who he truly is.

welcome, love (ao3) - angelmichelangelo

Summary: coming out isn't easy, but it's a little less shit when you're surrounded with family

What a great year to be a mum (ao3) - WhatsNew

Summary: Karen reminisces in the year of big revelations, regret, happiness and new chapters. Year 2019 through proud mum's eyes.

What We Are to Each Other (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: So maybe they both suck at communication. Maybe Dan needs to talk to Phil about what they are to each other. And maybe Phil needs to sit his parents down and tell them that big, slightly scary thing about himself. But maybe it'll all work itself out, one way or another.

when it feels like nothing else matter, will you put your arms around me? (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: “Sorry.” Phil says.

His father wraps his arms around him, and the embrace feels warm. It’s an embrace that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s like when he was a kid and something scary happened and his father just held him like nothing could ever hurt him because his father was there protecting him.

“It’s okay.” His father quietly whispers into his hairline. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t know how to tell him all the things that he wanted to say, like: I don’t know how to stop my thoughts from spiralling out of control. What if the medicine makes it worse? What do we do if things don’t get better? How do I live in a world that doesn’t have my dad in it?

“Let’s just enjoy right now.” His father says, and he doesn’t let go of him.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Bunch of New OCs

Descendants

Calen (x Ben) & Morrigan (x Jane) in Control – the children of Chernabog, very powerful magic users who grew up on the isle. Not a part of any crew, preferred to just stick together, but Calen has a history with both Harry and Jay, and Morrigan has a history with Evie. TBD if they're invited to Auradon or if they just invite themselves, here to cause chaos

Chernabog takes a technically female presenting body when trapped by the isle magic and is Aubrey Plaza probably but also maybe Kathryn Hahn idk?

Glee

Lucinda (Patti Lupone) & Vanessa (Kathryn Hahn) Hope in The Art Of Making Art – Danny's mothers, details in Danny's intro

(ft. introduced Nadia & Pip, Danny's therapist and boyfriend respectively)

Heartstopper

Isabella Belly Spring in Personal Best – Charlie's twin sister, probably has BPD because i can't write any mentally stable ocs rn, autistic queen, bit of a loner at Higgs but she and Elle have always been close so when she transfers, baby girl gets pulled into the friend squad with Darcy & Tara, Ben's ex girlfriend (while he was also with Charlie, dumped him when she found out about that) and current president of the Ben Hate Squad

Juniper Catalina Solano in A Place In This World – Nick’s best friend, moved away when they were 13 (basically just before his kiss with Tara and before he became friends with Imogen), they stayed in touch and are still very very close

Details iffy but her parents die early in season 1 and it was in their will that if anything happened to them, they wanted their daughter to live with Sarah Nelson (they got along well and trusted her, she wasn’t their very best friend but they knew it was the best choice for their daughter), so she’s just moved back

Marvel (Agatha All Along)

Naomi Kaplan in Darkest Hour, Wake Thy Power – William Kaplan's twin sister, not a Maximoff but born with magic (tbd what kind of witch she is but loves crystals and tarot readings even before knowing she's a witch), can immediately tell that something is Not Right with her brother after the accident (maybe also died/almost died in the accident and that's when her magic kicks in? tbd), the only one who knows the full truth of who he is, invites herself along when Billy goes to find Agatha

Renna Vidal / Renna Vidal-Harkness in Earthly And Divine – Rio & Agatha's magically created witch daughter, Nicky's older sister. Withdrew from both of her parents after Nicky died and might never have reconnected with them if she hadn't somehow gotten herself swept up in Billy Kaplan's plan to walk the Witches' Road

Elizabeth Zella Maximoff in Maiden, Mother, Crone – Billy & Tommy's triplet, ends up in a slightly older body after the Hex breaks down, finds Billy completely by chance and now will not rest until they get Tommy back too

bonus: Kassandra's AAA title is Glory At The End & Cheryl's is Sewn With Fate

RWRB

Christian Douglas Charles William Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor in History Has Its Eyes On You – Youngest prince, 18/19 when everything starts, gay and closeted, adores Henry more than anything in the world

dating Emilia Harper Claremont-Diaz, who knows that he's gay and is okay with being his public beard and forever best friend, but Mary is starting to put more and more pressure on him to propose

Emilia Harper Claremont Diaz in History Has Its Eyes On You– baby of the Claremont-Diaz family, she is in her first or second year at GWU in RWRB. Was a total daddy's girl growing up and never outgrew the pain of Oscar leaving. Majoring in International Relations because she feels like she has to and minoring in art history because she loves it, undiagnosed ADHD like her brother. Often referred to as the People's Princess in the US and as the American Princess internationally, loves Texas with all her heart, Secret Service codename is Buttercup which she chose because of her favourite Powerpuff Girl

Fashion icon (not as much as June though), idolizes her big sister forever, social media star, loves art and art history and museums and creating art, often feels like she might not be smart enough to make her family proud, happily fake dating her best friend Christian Fox

named after Harper Lee and Emilia Casanova de Villaverde, probably goes by her middle name (except with Oscar's family) but tbd

Titans

Morvan Abbott (x Jason Todd) in Abyss – Rowena Abbott's younger, lowkey the reason she was in jail (specifically, she killed their step father while protecting Morvan from him). After Rowena's arrest he ran away, found himself taken in by a woman with powers somewhat similar to his own and a vested interest in not letting Trigon destroy the world. After Rowena ends up with Dick and Rachel, they encounter this woman on their search for answers, and Rowena finally sees her baby brother again

ty everyone @the-witching-ash @ocmerunaway @ginevrastilinski-ocs @cecexwrites @manyfandomocs for listening to me not shut up about these ideas for sooooooo long i appreciate y'all also the ouat squad is still coming but i might die before i figure that shit out so also maybe not idk they're turning in my brain like a rotisserie chicken

edit: also still need to do the teen wolf coven but that's a future problem

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

We should Have Stayed in Gotham ch3

(Almost every Maribat fic I read has the akuma class going to Gotham. But tell me which is more likely, a class touring the city of crime, or a class touring the city of lights? So here it is, the Daminette fic that only I asked for, where Gotham goes to Paris, and the poor students have to grapple with the fact that they have competition for the most dangerous city in the world. I wonder what will happen?)

ao3 Beginning Previous

The moment Damian had learned that he had a roommate, he knew that he would have trouble sleeping. Granted, the Gotham High student, Will, was quiet and unobtrusive, so at first Damian thought that it wouldn’t be too much of a sacrifice to share a room with him (but only if he kept a knife under his pillow). However, after seeing the giant baby trying to eat the Eiffel Tower all thoughts of sleep were quickly thrown away in favor of hours upon hours of research while his roommate slept.

So it should have come as no surprise to anyone, that Damian walked up to the Louvre with bags under his eyes and a scowl to curdle milk. He sipped his hotel coffee in distaste as his peers gave him a wide berth, as they waited for their French guides. Yet despite his exhaustion, and the distance of his peers, he was able to overhear their conversations and gauge their intentions for the rest of the trip.

“You can’t be serious!” Kathryn was yelling, “After what we saw yesterday you’re not freaking out? I’m freaking out! We almost died!”

“You live three blocks away from Crime Alley!” A Gotham High student who was on the “Parisian’s are overreacting” side exclaimed. “You almost die every day!”

“Yeah,” Kathryn said, “From muggers and henchmen. You know, people I can kick in the family jewels. Not magic giant babies! I can’t kick magic giant babies! And if you had bothered too even read the survival guide, you would know that that particular akuma happens like, a lot!”

“But it doesn’t matter!” Chad cried, “I mean their hero has a magic reset button, so…”

“Ok,” Alice said sardonically, all of the "Who cares" Gothamites were now firmly on the "It's a big deal" side, “So you’re suicidal. Great.”

“I’m not—”

“Students!” Mr. Robinson, their chaperone and French teacher, called. “Our liaison class is here, so be on our best behavior!”

Damian took a swig of his coffee as they moved towards the glass pyramid in the center of the courtyard. He was tired, and he did not want to deal with whichever idiotic child they pared him up with, but he needed to know more. He had been researching all night, but he still didn’t know why the Justice League hadn’t been called in yet. And considering how many akumas had almost ended the world, he had a feeling that they should definitely know about this.

 But there was one more thing that was bugging him unceasingly, Hawkmoth. His motivation was clear, he wanted a wish, but he didn’t know the reason behind that motivation. And his strategy was baffling. Just from reading the blogs, it looked like Hawkmoth’s plan was to akumatize as many different people as possible and then hope one of them would be able to defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir. It was ridiculous, idiotic, and completely ineffectual…And yet Ladybug had not been able to catch him. It made no sense. From the videos it was clear that even when Ladybug had been at her least skilled, she had always been competent and efficient. Now two years later, she had experience, training, and competent and effective team members. So why hadn’t she eliminated the threat?

His thoughts were aggravatingly interrupted when they reached the chattering group of teenagers in front of the pyramid. When they saw the Gothamites, the Parisians instantly quieted and lined up with plastered smiles, and bright, scanning eyes. It was…disturbing and pulled all of the Gothamites up short and had them frowning and scanning for any hidden dangers. It was almost comical, the line of bright, colorful Parisians facing off of the dark, scowling Gothamites. Damian just sipped his coffee and began memorizing the faces. He paused when he was the small group of people not joining the lineup.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Sabrina Raincomprix, and Chloe Bourgeois, and two other girls stood on the opposite side of the line from the teachers and little apart from their class despite the fact that two of their members were the class leaders. Marinette was sipping on a large cup, but her small welcoming smile seemed a hundred times more genuine than the toothy grins of her classmates. Sabrina was standing beside her, and she seemed to be fidgeting with excitement as she waited for the teachers to finish talking. Chloe was the only one who was not smiling, instead she was completely consumed with her phone and only huffing when her friends spoke to her. Damian couldn’t get a good idea of the other two girls, as one of them was hidden behind Marinette, and the other was…roller blading around the courtyard completely ignoring everyone.

Eventually, Mlle. Mendeliev cleared her thought as she began handing out papers to her class, with the Gotham teachers mirroring her with Damian and his peers. “Now,” she said sternly yet not harshly in English, “It has come to our attention that you all were caught up in the akuma attack yesterday. That is good, perhaps now you will take this threat seriously, and do everything in your power to avoid creating or becoming akumatized.”

“That being said,” Mlle. Bustier said quickly with a pointed look at her coworker, “We are glad none of you were harmed, and hope that it never happens again!”

“Hm,” Mendeliev said before snapping her attention to both classes commanding their attention like a general surveying their troops. “You have each been paired up according to those whom we have deemed least likely to cause akumas. French students will speak in English. English students will speak in French. Complete your work sheets by the end of the day to receive full marks. There will be no switching!”

Damian noticed her sharp eyes falling on a girl dressed in an awful shade of orange, with sausages disguised as hair framing her face. Said girl just smiled innocently, before her eyes fell on him, and he groaned. The sudden flash of predatory glee that she had eyed him with made his skin crawl. He wanted nothing to do with that girl, but he knew her type far too well. She was like his mother, desperate for power and willing to do anything to get it. At that moment Damian was the most powerful person there, and she knew it.

He prepared himself for an aggravating and unsatisfactory morning as he waited for the opportunist to corner whoever he had been partnered with him and “convince” them to switch partners despite the teacher’s mandate. Needless to say, he was surprised when the person who had extracted themselves from the mass of congregating students to find him, was not the sausage girl, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Her smile when she saw him was so bright and genuine, it had Damian squinting his eyes in suspicion as she moved toward him. But she maintained a respective distance and spoke formally in English as she said, “Hello, I’m Marinette. You must be Damian.”

“I am,” Damian said in perfect French straightening as he looked at his work sheet for the first time. Sure enough, Marinette’s name was right beside his at the top of the page. “Although, I should warn you that this exercise will not be very beneficial for me. As you can see, I am already quiet fluent in your language.”

Damian expected the girl to become annoyed or aggravated at his briskness, but apparently dealing with an emotional terrorist everyday gave her a higher tolerance for his behaviors than the majority of his peers. She just tilted her head with a cocked eyebrow and said in Mandarin,

“I understand. If I’m being honest, I’m in the same boat. As I am fluent in more languages than I’ll probably ever use.”

Damian raised his eyebrows in surprised, but he couldn’t help the smirk playing on his lips as he slipped into Arabic saying, “Well, that is unfortunate. But if you do not think you will use them, then why learn?”

“I plan to travel,” Marinette said in perfect Hindi. “I plan to go into fashion, and I wish to be able to reach as many people as possible. What about you? Why do you know so many languages?”

“I am expected to take over my father’s business,” Damian said in Russian. “It is an international company and possibly intergalactic if the treaty with Mars and Tameran goes through.”

“I hope it does!” Marinette said in Spanish, “I believe that intergalactic relations will improve international ones, as we will have to be united in order to effectively interact with the greater galaxy.”

“Interesting,” Damian said in Africans, “Not everyone has such an optimistic view of human nature.”

Marinette said something in Greek, and Damian winced. Her smile grew in victory as she found perhaps the only Earth language he had yet to fully master, but Damian would not be quelled. So, before she could capitalize on her victory, he switched to German and said, “Unfortunately I have yet to master Greek. It seems you have the advantage of me.”

Damian’s smirk returned as Marinette winced. But her smile remained as she said in perfect Japanese, “My German is almost non-existent. So I guess that makes us even unless…”

“I speak Japanese,” Damian said in the same language. “Perhaps this enterprise, will not be as fruitless as I thought. If you are willing to assist me in Greek, then you might even be an adequate companion.”

The moment the words left his lips, Damian knew that he had probably offended her, which would have been awful. She seemed to be the only person here who wasn’t a complete imbecile, and brushing up on his Greek was the only way this exercise wouldn’t be a waste of time. But instead Marinette just laughed bright and clear, and said,

“Adequate. That’s a new one, but I’ll take it. You know you remind me of Chloe, she doesn’t complement…well anyone.”

“Considering she is your friend; I will assume you meant the comparison to also be complementary.”

Marinette shrugged with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Why don’t you meet her first, and then you can decide if it’s a compliment?”

Damian nodded in appreciation and a little wariness before they were interrupted by a shrill voice crying, “Marinette!”

The unwavering class president wavered, which sent a shrill line of tension through Damian. He scanned the crowd for the person responsible for causing such a steadfast presence to flinch and found an overly excitable girl with round glasses running up to them with a too bright smile. Damian recognized the Gotham Academy student following her as one of the students who had retained very little of the French lessons, and could barely introduce herself in the language. This newcomer must have been under the impression that all of the Gotham students had a similar level of incompetence because she began to speak in rapid-fire French as if Damian couldn’t understand a word she was saying.  

“Marinette,” the newcomer said, “You have to switch partners with Lila. She’s desperate.”

Marinette took a deep breath as if she was actively steeling herself against something unpleasant and said, “Alya, that’s not going to happen. Mlle. Mendeliev, and Sabrina spent hours on these partners so that there would be as few akumas as possible.”

“But Lila—”

“Is a liar!”

“I know! But seriously Marinette, Adrien’s right. It’s not like she does any harm saying she save Jagged’s cat. No body actually believes her. Besides she has a disease! She can’t help it!”

“Yeah!” Marinette said perhaps a little snappishly, “A disease she is doing nothing to cure, and all you're doing is enabling her!”

“What?! I am not enabling her! I am trying to help a fellow student who is suffering from a mental illness, and trying to prevent akumas! Which you used to care about. Honestly Marinette, it’s almost as if you want this conference to be ruined. I think you’ve been spending too much time with Chloe.”

“Well, at least Chloe is trying to make amends! What does Lila do whenever she causes an akuma?”

Alya shook her head in disappointment, as if Marinette was the blind one here. “She’s just trying to get her Miraculous back. That girl couldn’t be genuinely kind even if she was hit by a personality reversal akuma. Just switch partners with Lila! It will be best for the whole class.”

“But not best for me,” Damian said in French with as much sternness as he could master. He did not miss the suppressed vindictive smirk from Marinette as Alya stared at him in shock. But Damian simply tilted his chin to the interloper with as much distain he could manage. “Now what ‘illness’ does this Lila claim to have that we must cater to her every whim.”

“She’s a compulsive liar,” Marinette said hiding her satisfaction under a lecturing tone, and a gentle smile. “To quote her words exactly, ‘It’s a disease and I can’t help it. So please be kind. I don’t intentionally want to hurt anyone, but there’s something wrong with me, and I need help!’”

Damian growled in distaste. He assumed that Lila was the girl with the sausages for hair. She had obviously seen the situation in Paris and decided to use it to her advantage. Whether she actually had a mental illness or not, was clearly not the issue, because she was using it to convince her class to cater to her ever whim. “Do everything I say or else I will call a supervillain to curse us all," she was basically saying, "But don’t blame me, I’m sick and can’t help it.” It was something his mother would do and immediately put bad taste in his mouth.

“Alya,” he said giving her the full weight of his “Ice Prince” persona. He took no small amount of satisfaction from her almost fearful reaction. “I can guarantee, that if I was to be paired with this Lie-la, then I will be akumatized within five minutes of our meeting. And if you ask any of my peers, I think you will find that me being akumatized is the last thing you want. So please return to your…friend, and tell her that under no circumstances will I take any partner other than Marinette. Now leave us alone, you aren’t wanted here.”

Alya turned to the other girl with a sort of desperate pleading, but Marinette just sighed and said gently, “I’m sorry Alya. But after that speech, I think we can all agree that it’s for the best.”

Alya shook her head in disappointment, and there was nothing but pure disappointment in her voice when she said, “And to think you used to be our ‘Everyday Ladybug.’ Now…now your just selfish.” She spun and marched off before they could respond.

Damian glanced at Marinette and froze. She looked as if she had just been stabbed. The words had meant nothing to Damian, but they had clearly meant everything to her. But before Damian could offer his support, Marinette closed her eyes and began taking deep breaths. An expression of complete and total calm passed over her. It was as if every negative emotion the confrontation had caused was melting away through her figure tips.

When she opened her eyes, she turned back to Damian with her gentle smile. But there was now a new sense of exhaustion in her clear blue bell eyes that said this was not the first time her “friends” had hurt her, and it would not be the last.

In that moment, Damian came to some very important conclusions about this Marinette. One, she was strong. She lived in a city under constant siege, and she still stood tall and genuine, with a smile that breathed kindness and compassion with every laugh and word. And two, these people did not deserve her. It was obvious that they were sheep, from the way a large group of them gathered around Lila and were now pandering to her to stop her from lashing out. They had traded a kind and gentle leader, for a mountain of fool’s gold. Pretty to look at but ultimately useless. And they had done it with their eyes open. It would have been better if they had fallen for her lies.  

“I’m sorry about that,” Marinette said in English with what Damian assumed was her signature cheerfulness, just as he addressed people with his signature superiority, “Things…well, let’s just say that the akumas have caused a lot of damage, not all of it physical. Make’s it hard to know how to…interact with people, and behave rationally. I hope you understand.”

Damian nodded as he said, “I can not say that I understand completely. But I can say that I know what you mean. I have some experience with liars and manipulators, and I can see how this situation could be very beneficial to them. However, if you’re classmates had any form of actual intelligence then they would not pander to that girl the way that they do. So, I cannot garner too much sympathy for them.”

A light returned to Marinette’s eyes as he said this, as if he had amused her instead of insulting the people she probably knew and trusted far more than him. “Ok, I have to keep you and Chloe apart. It’s the only way, I’m going to be able to prevent actual murder from happening!”

“Hm,” Damian said, his smirk returning. Perhaps a little brighter than he intended, but still too small to communicate any actual pleasure. “Now I must insist on meeting her. Perhaps we can cull the herd and bring some intelligence back into this city.”

Marinette laughed, and Damian thought it sounded like bells. But they were interrupted when the red haired girl on rollerblades zoomed up to them with a worried expression. “Hey Mari,” she said gently, “I saw you talking to Alya. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, thanks Alix,” Marinette said her smile brightening even more at her friend. “All good here. But where’s your partner?

"Oh, she’s over there!” Alix gestured to the side and Damian saw Kathryn leaning against a statue while she played with her phone. “I’m so glad her French is better than my English. But if you’re ok, then I’ve got to go. I promised to get her my extra blades from my dad’s office. We’re going to have so much fun!”

“I am already regretting the fact that you two were paired together,” Marinette said with a fond shake of her head. But Alix just laughed and raced off. Kathryn running beside her through what appeared to be an employee’s entrance to the Louvre.

“Her dad’s the curator,” Marinette explained. “She’s been racing through there since she was five. They’ll be fine as long as they don’t break anything important.”

Damian nodded, as the teachers called the students to order. It was time for the first activity to begin. A Louvre scavenger hunt, which will end with lunch and then a "getting to know you party" back at the school. “I hope you know you’re artifacts as well as you know languages," he said openly studying her compitence.

A playful smile spread across Marinette’s face, as if she had some great hidden secret that she was daring him to discover. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, “As long as luck’s on my side, we can’t possibly fail. Our biggest competition will be Alix.”

“Because of her father?”

“Sure,” Marinette said still with that playful smile brightening her face, “Let’s go with that.” 

Next

@night-ngale @annastasha @ev-cupcake @hammalammadamdam @laydeekrayzee @itsemmylie @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

Confession #149

"Saying this as someone who loves T'Lyn but I really want her to fuck-up more in the show because right now, I think she is too perfect always giving perfect advice and saying the perfect sassy quip. "Wej Duj" was a good episode because even though she helps save the day, she's still unpopular with her fellow Vulcans and gets kicked off the Sh'Vahl. Don't get me wrong, Im glad she's found her people on the Cerritos but I'm kinda disappointed that the only moment she fucks up is in "Empathalogical Fallacies" and even then, that was hastily-resolved with a Bendii Syndrome asspull. Now some people might argue that she's "perfect" because she's the straight man type of comedy character but Spock, Worf, and Odo are also those types of characters and they're still allowed their major fuck-ups. Idk man, I just miss when Kathryn Lyn was writing her because the newer writers for season four seemed too afraid to let T'Lyn mess up for fear of angering her fanboys."

[nocturneindream]

Gallows of the Dreaming

~ Chapter One: Freeing the Endless ~

~ 18+ | Minors DNI | AFAB Reader | No Y/N ~

Chapter One | AO3

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any characters from The Sandman comics or Netflix series. This is purely creative writing.

Warning: Future chapters may contain graphic depictions of sexual acts and gore. I will note which parts to skip for each chapter if you’d like to avoid that content, so be sure to read through my notes.

*Please skip to the first plain galaxy banner if you'd like to avoid gore. Though it will be referenced throughout the chapter.*

Word count: 5.1k

Chapter warnings: Graphic depictions of gore, subtle nudity, foul language, mentions of abuse (verbal), the Burgess family (need I say more?).

A/N: Hello! So either I fat-fingered the post button accidentally or Tumblr decided this post has been in my drafts for long enough. I hadn't intended on posting this until I was finished with chapter two (so they could come out simultaneously) but here we are. Nevertheless, I hope this is worth the read for you guys. I wasn't fully satisfied with my initial posting of chapter one so I figured I'd fix it.

I've taken the liberty of creating a tag list of anyone who liked my first post so you guys aren't out of the loop. Some tags are in the comments because for some reason it wouldn't save a few of your usernames toward the end of the post. If you'd like to be removed, please DM me. :)

As always, feel free to comment, send in any questions, and like/re-blog this post. Enjoy!

-Kathryn ;)

DO NOT re-write, translate, copy, re-post, or claim my writing as your own. Thanks!

Here in the darkness, you lay, a puddle of frozen blood and aching bone. Bitter winds have turned your lips a bale shade of blue, your body bare and vulnerable to the will of the elements. There is no source of warmth or comfort, no savior to come to your rescue. The hairs on the back of your neck stand tall, intuition warning you of the presence that stalks in the shadows, watching - waiting. 

Dread, like water, sinks into the pit of your stomach as the all-consuming darkness condenses around you, tightening - suffocating. You can’t breathe - can’t think, instinctively thrashing against your confines. 

“Plea- Please,” You choke. “Stop!” Tears frost around your lashes. You kick and claw at the air until your vision begins to fade, limbs falling numb from lack of oxygen. 

Finally, the invisible force relents, lifting the pressure from your lungs as it drops you onto the misty floor. You gulp down the dry air and roll onto your scraped hands and knees. A faint, glowing orb of light forms in the distance. You crawl in its direction, legs too weak to stand. Each movement sends a sharp pang throughout your body, but you press on, hopeful that the light will provide shelter - warmth. Faint whispers filter through your ears. Your name, a repeated mantra from two distinct voices, circling your figure in the shadows.

“See her.” A deep, honey-coated man’s voice coaxes through the thick fog. For all you know, it could be leading you to your death, a moth to a flame. A part of you no longer cares, yearning only for relief. The closer you grow to the light, the louder the other voice becomes. The shrill, piercing cries of a woman calling for help. Perhaps she’s like you, trapped here in the darkness, alone - afraid. Though uncertain of your ability to assist the woman that calls, you hasten your pace.

At last, you find your source of light: a large glass dome. Inside, a rather unique raven flaps its dreamy, ink-black wings as it hammers its beak against the glass in a desperate attempt to escape. You want to set it free, but it’s as though the glass has been blown and stretched around it, completely encasing the bird. You reach up, entranced by the creature, fingers mere centimeters away from the dome when the man’s voice returns, startling you from your daze. 

“See what they have done to her.” He commands, tone laced with disgust. You fearfully oblige, watching the raven as she continues her assault on the glass.

“Who trapped you here?” You ask against your better - rational - judgment. How could it be possible for a raven to speak? As she opens her beak you’re half-convinced your nonsensical thoughts are somehow correct. 

A long, ear-splitting caw erupts from the bird, her body bursting - splattering - against the glass. The harrowing thump of her corpse hitting the base of the dome rings throughout the sudden silence, and the scent of gunpowder fills the air. The sight burns itself a permanent hole in your memory, tremors wracking your limbs as you soak it in. She’s mangled, white belly stained red with splatters of her blood, now and forever entombed in her glass cage. Rattling with shock and adrenaline, you find the strength to push yourself onto your feet, stumbling away from the glass, a helpless child in the black abyss. 

“Help!” You cry, shrill and piercing. You wail until your voice gives out, unable to produce more than a hoarse whisper. You’re not sure who you’re pleading to. The man’s voice? The entity that follows? Whoever - whatever - it is, grants your request.

 Shadows shift and spin, whipping your body in every direction until you’re left swaying dizzily in a long, dimly-lit hallway. The warm flicker of tall, golden candle stands reflects off dark wood walls and floors, melting your frost-coated lashes. Recognition sits on the tip of your tongue, but you find yourself at a loss for where exactly you’ve seen this place before. Blue, satin-cloaked figures glide past you, funneling through an ornately-carved door at the end of the long hall. 

“Here in the darkness.” They chorus over and over,  the room vanishing as quickly as it had formed. 

You’re awake and grasping your sweat-soaked pillow, pushing yourself upright. A wave of relief washes over you as you soak in your surroundings, realizing it had only been a nightmare. Your dreams were rarely pleasant, but somehow this one felt different - lifelike. You could still smell the gunpowder, feel the smoke in your lungs, and see the blood. So much blood. Too much to have come from such a small bird. You run your hands through your hair, scratching your scalp as you reach for the phone on your nightstand. Ten o’clock.

“Shit. I’m late.” You’re practically jumping out of your sheets to get dressed, knowing you’ll never hear the end of it from Mr. Burgess. 

Six months ago, Paul hired you as a live-in caretaker for the crotchety old man, too exhausted mentally and physically from handling his long-term partner’s care on his own.  A position you were wholly underqualified for. It hadn’t been the job itself that caught your interest, but the man you’d be working for. Alexander Burgess: the only surviving son of one of the most controversial magical practitioners in history - Roderick Burgess. As an avid student and aspiring professor of occult history, the temptation of having access to all of Mr. Burgess’ inherited relics was too mouth-watering to resist. This would be your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to not only live inside the very mansion that housed the Order of Ancient Mysteries but to discover the secrets they’d left behind. 

With the help of a few embellishments to your resume and a bit of charisma, Paul accepted your application. For the most part, you’re only here to assist Mr. Burgess when Paul cannot. While a few years younger, his age has not been kind to his mobility. Day after day, you find yourself reminding Paul that he should look after his health as well as he does his partners’.  

Mr. Burgess is often stubborn and resistant to the helping hands around him, even before your arrival. Though, he treats you a great deal worse than Paul. There have been many days in which you’ve found yourself questioning whether or not your research was worth the constant blows to your dignity. 

Two months ago, after an especially difficult day on the job, you’d nearly handed in your resignation. Paul had caught you sobbing in the kitchen after a spat with Mr. Burgess in which he’d called you an assortment of foul names while attempting to climb down the grand staircase on his own. Paul managed to talk you down, comforting you with a cup of chamomile and a few kind words - as always. Once able to think clearly, you decided you’d stay, assisting only as needed. Once again, your research became your priority, as you’d intended in the first place. You’d no longer allow the sour words of a bitter old man to squander your chance at recognition. 

 You push aside the residual anxiety from your nightmare, slipping into a comfortable pair of black boots and your coat before heading down the hall to your bosses’ shared room. Paul greets you with his signature smile, ever the early bird.

“Good morning, Paul.” You return his smile half-heartedly as your attention shifts to Mr. Burgess who is attempting to shimmy himself off the bed and into his wheelchair. You squat beside him, stabilizing the chair with one hand and holding the other out for support should he lose his strength. You know better by now than to touch and assist unless asked directly, having had your hands smacked away too many times to count. Paul must have helped take care of his morning hygiene tasks as Mr. Burgess is already dressed and visibly exasperated. 

“I’m sorry I’m late.” You apologize to the men, but mostly to Paul. Mr. Burgess angrily mumbles something about not needing your assistance. You share a knowing look with Paul and wordlessly move behind Mr. Burgess, too exhausted from your fitful sleep to engage in his antics. You push his chair out of the room, down the ramp that connects to the end of the hall, and toward the library where they share their early hours each morning.

Much to Paul’s dismay, as the chair rolls to a stop, Mr. Burgess shakily pushes himself up and onto his feet, shambling toward the loveseat. Paul, instantly at his partner’s side, places a gentle hand beneath his elbow for support. The older man grumbles his dissatisfaction but refrains from swatting him away as they situate themselves, hungrily eyeing their steaming trays of breakfast on the coffee table. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you two?” You ask tentatively, cupping your palms together in front of you. You’re hoping they no longer require your assistance, eager to escape the perpetual gloom of the mansion, feel the crisp fall air against your skin, and rid your mind of the gory scene your nightmare burned into your memory. Paul’s thoughtful gaze remains on you for a moment, studying the dark circles beneath your eyes and the tense curl of your shoulders.

“That’ll be all for now, thank you.” He says appreciatively. Mr. Burgess simply waves his hand, shooing you away. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and nod to Paul with a tight-lipped smile, hurrying away before either man can change their mind.

A subtle nagging resistance tugs at your gut, slowing your steps and forcing you to take in your surroundings. Ghostly flashes of cloaked figures float around you as you stand stock-still in the center of the hall, the ornately-carved door of your nightmare looming ahead of you. This was why it had felt so familiar, you’d walked this hall every day, but had never paid any mind to the door. What secrets lie beyond it? Stewing with curiosity, you tear your vision away, directing it toward your bosses. What if it hadn’t been just a nightmare? What if it had been a premonition? What if?

“See what they have done to her.” Echoes the voice inside your mind as you warily eye the two men in the library. You watch Paul dote on Mr. Burgess, carefully wiping a splotch of jam from the corner of his mouth. Paul could never. Not with a heart as big as his. You’re sure of it. You shift your focus to Mr. Burgess as he drinks deeply from his teacup, his stare vacant, far away from that of his loving partner. You’d undoubtedly witnessed the old man’s verbal mistreatment, and had often been the recipient yourself. 

While working for the couple, you’d taken the liberty of flitting through the many family records and memoirs available in their library. Mr. Burgess had tucked anything that so much as mentioned his father’s name into a dark, dusty corner. Out of sight, out of mind. As you flicked through the countless pages, you began to understand why.

 There were nearly as many detailed accounts of abuse toward the young Alexander Burgess as there were rumors of seances and sacrificial ceremonies. You’d attributed Mr. Burgess’ sour disposition to his troubled upbringing, unhealed from the traumas he’d endured. But, could that prove him capable of what you’d witnessed in your nightmare? 

You scoff at your train of thought, slipping your hands into your pockets. It’s been ages since you’ve allowed yourself to become so affected by a nightmare. You turn away from the men and continue your path, tucking the notion under another fold in your brain for later dissection.

Strolling through the property gardens had eased your nerves, but the flames of curiosity were not so easily snuffed. With sleep refusing to take you tonight, your restless legs carry you through the sleeping halls of the mansion, down the creaky stairs, and into the place you feel most at home - the library. 

Your fingers skim the spines of old, leather-bound books, searching for answers within their abundant pages only to come out empty-handed. Not a single book has offered confirmation for your suspicions. Frustrated, you now sit at Mr. Burgess’ desk, poking about the numerous drawers and personal items. Nothing of use in those either. 

“Fuck it.” You stand and pull the top drawers completely from the desk, dumping them into the leather chair. Your fingers skim the edges of the wood, searching for something - anything. Antique, hand-crafted desks like this almost always have secret compartments and hide-aways, right?

 Just as you’re near your wit's end, ready to submit to the fact that it may have just been a nightmare, your fingers brush across a loose button of wood - almost unnoticeable. You press down, delighted to hear the quiet click, and see the base of the compartment lift. Your nimble fingers pry open the lid, snatching out the typewritten documents inside, and devouring them with greedy eyes. 

You hold in your hands an incomplete memoir, written by a man named Dr. Hathaway, detailing a particular interaction he’d had with the Magus: a title Roderic Burgess insisted to be addressed by. Dr. Hathaway had come to the Magus in an act of desperation with a stolen grimoire he’d gained access to through his high standing with the museum that kept it. 

This spellbook - the Magdalene Grimoire - contained an incantation that could summon the Angel of Death, binding it by the laws of magic to the will of its summoner. The Magus had sought after the book in the hopes that he may force Death to resurrect his eldest, most beloved son, Randall, who died in battle. Though Dr. Hathaway initially refused the Magus’ requests for the book, after his own son, Edmund, fell in battle, he felt he had no other option. 

With an aching heart, he relinquished the book into the hands of the Magus who called upon his Order of Ancient Mysteries to begin the ritual. Dr. Hathaway goes on to describe the terror he felt whilst witnessing the act, as well as his disappointment when they realized their attempt had been unsuccessful. They hadn’t summoned Death, but they had summoned something. 

The documents trail off into unfinished sentences. You presume this to be the fault of Roderick Burgess, not wanting any more bad publicity. In the eyes of many, he was a fraud. Surely, Alexander wouldn’t have gone through the daunting task of rounding up and hiding away his father’s collections if there hadn’t been some level of truth within the writings. You fold and tuck the pages into the side of your bra for safekeeping, and return the drawers back to their original, tidy state. If they’ve still got whatever Roderick summoned locked away, it certainly isn’t a raven.

 You slump into Mr. Burgess’ chair, resting your elbows on the desk and your forehead in your hands. If not a captive entity, then perhaps they’ve got the Magdalene Grimoire behind that door, just beyond your reach. It would make perfect sense to preserve such a powerful artifact in a safe space of its own, rather than leaving it to rot on a shelf. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit the fact that this is the first promising lead you’ve discovered in your six months of working here. Therein lies the rub. If you’re not careful, you could lose your job or far worse if they truly have someone - something - held captive. You squeeze your head in your hands, weighing the risk against the reward. You owe it to yourself - to the world - to discover the secrets of the Order of Ancient Mysteries. And, if someone is being held captive, don’t you have a moral obligation to help them? 

“I’m probably going to regret this.” You sigh to yourself, standing from Mr. Burgess’s chair to head, once more, down the dreaded hall. As your hand grips the doorknob, apprehensive second thoughts ebb away at your confidence. Are you truly willing to put everything on the line for the slim possibility that you might find something of value? What if you find nothing? What if you get caught? What if?

“Oh, come on!” You lecture yourself, clenching and unclenching your fists, feet shifting from side to side as you strain to build back your courage. You quickly wipe your sweaty palms against the thin fabric of your satin night slip and twist the handle.

The door swings open to reveal a spiraled, stone staircase descending into darkness. A frigid draft blows over your body, spreading goosebumps across your flesh. The image of the raven, bloody and lifeless, flits across your mind’s eye. But, it’s too late to turn back now. You’ve made your decision. Shivering, you push onward, one hand on the damp wall for guidance as you follow the spiral down. 

The sight that greets you as you round the corner makes your skin crawl, fingers slotting through the gaps of the black metal entrance gate to keep yourself upright. Four grey columns lead up into high, blue-colored arches. In the center of those columns hovers the very same glass dome you’d seen in your nightmare, suspended by silver chains over a circle of chipped, painted runes. A man, pale and statuesque lay in place of the raven, his legs tucked into his chest. There's a stillness to him that both unsettles and excites your senses, his skin emitting a pearlescent, otherworldly glow beneath the white light that sways above the dome. 

 He doesn’t move a muscle as you muster the courage to take the final steps into the room. Your legs don’t stop their advancement until you’re mere inches away, eyes widening at the prisoner’s condition. He has nothing, not even a scrap of fabric for warmth. No food. No water. Left bare and alone to rot away in the cell. 

You breathe deeply, your head spinning from the revelation. At worst, you’d expected to find taxidermied animals and strange spell ingredients, or ancient books. At best, the Magdalene Grimoire Dr. Hathaway had mentioned. You didn’t truly believe you’d find someone - a man - locked away like an animal. You’re so close you can see your reflection on the surface of the glass, wondering if he’s even alive. He’s so still, the subtle rise and fall of his chest barely visible. 

Obsidian eyes overflowing with glimmering stars lock onto yours. You stumble back at his sudden movement, tripping over your own feet. He watches you, eyes fixed in a hardened glare, irritated by your disturbance. He has every right to be. Here you are, outside the glass, gawking at him as though he’s nothing more than a museum exhibit. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You stammer. “I don’t mean to stare. It just didn’t look like you were breathing so-” His eyes narrow on you, cutting your sentence short. You clear your throat nervously and change the subject. 

“How long have you been down here?” He remains silent, unwilling - or perhaps unable -  to answer your question. 

If the writings of Dr. Hathaway were accurate, the answer could be up to a hundred years. Though, based on the youthful appearance of the caged man, you’d have never come to that conclusion on your own. He’s unlike anyone - anything - you’ve ever seen. Messy, pitch-black tendrils of hair frame the angular structure of his face, drawing your focus toward prominent brows and wild, swirling eyes, like compact portals into the cosmos. 

“It’s strange,” You continue, determined to get answers - or any response - out of the stranger. “I had a dream about your cage the other night.” You watch him carefully, searching for any sign of recognition. His scowl turns to a look of curiosity, interest piqued. He watches you carefully as you anxiously pace in front of him, detailing your nightmare. 

“There was this beautiful raven with a white belly. She was beating herself against the dome, trying to escape.” Lithe muscle raises him to rest his weight over his forearm. He listens intently, face virtually pressed against the glass. He hasn’t looked away from you - hasn’t blinked. 

“Was that your doing?” Yet again, he refuses to respond, words held behind a dam of unchanging silence. You want nothing more than to hear his voice, to solidify the obvious connection between this stranger and your nightmare. There’s a persistent, pulsating pressure at the front of your brain. You swear it’s coming from him, as though he’s trying to pry into your mind and see the image for himself. 

“Look,” You press your fingertips into your temples in an unsuccessful attempt to rub away the pressure. “I won’t hurt you. I just need to know who - or rather, what - you are so I can get you out of there.” 

There’s a visible struggle behind his eyes as he weighs the potential consequences of placing his trust in you. From your position, you don’t see what more he has to lose. At worst, you’re another greedy, selfish mortal, seeking to use him for his powers - whatever they may be. At best, you’re his only shot at release. Several quiet, lengthy moments pass, and you realize you may not get very far by talking to him. 

“If you’re not going to speak, I have to go.” His expression falls sullen as he watches you back away. “I’ll be back.” You promise, suspecting he’s heard those words before. 

The door slams shut behind you - a bit too loud for comfort - and your body slumps against the wood. The hall spins around you as you dizzily rest your weight over your knees. You close your eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to calm your racing heart. How the hell are you going to get him out of there? You, alone. You doubt you’ll even be able to break the glass. 

“We never meant for you to find him.” Your head whips toward the intruder only to find Paul standing at your side, his dark red robe tied tightly around his waist, hands behind his back. A thousand ants of panic crawl across your nerves. He takes a step closer and you take one back, fixated on his hidden hands. You’re no longer sure what he’s capable of, not after what you’ve seen - what you know. He calls your name, striving to pacify you as he always has whenever Mr.Burgess pushed you past your emotional threshold.  

You frantically search your surroundings, a cornered animal, eyes landing on a metal, bird-shaped figurine on the hallway console. You snatch it from its place, pointing it toward Paul as a warning. 

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Paul raises his empty hands out for you to see, halting his steps. His eyes dart between the metal bird in your trembling grasp and your frightened expression. Unarmed or not, you fear he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security, ready to strike the moment you let down your guard.

“I suppose you think differently of me now. That I understand,” He exhales, aware of the shadow this revelation has cast over his character. “Truthfully, we’ve wanted to set him free for years now.”

“Who is he? What is he?” You press, figure heavy in your hand as you struggle to keep it raised. Every fiber of your being screams for you to run before you end up like their prisoner, but you deserve answers. 

“Drop the statue and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He offers as a compromise, moving to step closer. In turn, you raise the figure higher, threatening to bludgeon him. He flinches, lowering to his knees before you. His reaction spurs a wave of confidence within you, allowing you to still your wavering voice.

“Answer me, Paul.” You threaten. His brows furrow, bewildered by your abrupt loss of fondness toward him. 

“The Sandman.” 

“And why, exactly,  is the Sandman locked in your basement?” 

“We weren’t the ones that put him there. That was Roderick’s doing. But, we couldn’t release him after he died. Alex has done far worse than keeping him locked in there.” He shakes his head, face riddled with the guilt of a long-held secret.

“We tried to bargain with him. His release in return for his word that he wouldn’t harm us, but he refused to speak. He never has, not to anyone.” 

Understanding does nothing to quell the sting of betrayal you feel as you look at Paul, enraged on behalf of your stranger, and heartbroken at the loss of the friend you thought you knew. How could you have trusted him? His love for Alex has tarnished his moral compass beyond repair. They’re no better than Roderick, selfish and entitled, believing their safety is of higher value than the life of another. There’s no telling the damage they’ve inflicted throughout the world by holding the Sandman hostage.

“I answered your question. Now, will you please put the bloody statue down?!” You reluctantly lower your arm, unable to support the weight of the figure any longer, but keep it close - just in case. He sighs in relief, shoulders slouching as he leans back against his heels.

“You know how wrong this is, Paul.” You scold him. 

“I’d set him free myself if I could guarantee Alex’s safety.” 

“You would?” Mr. Burgess questions, calmly emerging from the shadows behind Paul. His lack of emotion sets you on edge, and as you watch Paul’s expression falter, you suspect it’s had the same effect on him.

“I see you’ve met our…guest.” He says the word with poorly contained disgust, as though he were the victim. His knuckles turn white as he grips the armrest of his chair, pushing himself to stand.

 “Let us properly introduce you, then.” Paul rises from the floor, moving to support his partner who brushes him off, cocking his head sharply toward the basement door in a silent demand for Paul to open it. You withdraw from the two, ready to make a run for it. 

“Don’t play coy now,”  Mr. Burgess snaps, pinning you under his menacing glare. “You think I haven’t noticed you snooping through our library - through my father’s belongings? Is this not what you’ve been searching for?” He turns to Paul, visibly disappointed. 

“Did I not warn you this would happen?” Paul remains quiet, unwilling to meet the blameful eyes of his partner. Instead, he simply folds the wheelchair, tucking it under his arm as the two of them begin their descent into the basement. You know you should leave while you have the chance, but you won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t at least try to rescue the Sandman. Still clutching the metal statue, you trail after them, mindful enough to leave the exit open behind you.

The Sandman sits upright inside his cell, arms strewn over his crossed legs, making no effort to acknowledge the presence of his captors. You remain near the gate, unsure of how the situation will unravel as Mr. Burgess hobbles toward his prisoner. 

“It’s been some time since our last visit, hm?” He leans on his forearm, resting his weight against the surface of the glass. “I wonder if you’ll speak now.” He taunts. “If not for us, then perhaps for our friend.” 

“I’m not your fucking friend.” You huff, prompting Mr. Burgess to slam his hand against the glass. Unflinching, the Sandman’s starry eyes find yours. He shortly scans over your clenched fists and the figure you’re still clutching as though your life depends on it.

“I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in the last sixty years. That’s your fault!” Another strike meets the glass. “Isn’t it!” Mr. Burgess spits. The Sandman’s jaw tightens, but he wordlessly keeps his eyes locked on yours, unwilling to submit to the old man’s tantrum. You feel the pressure from earlier against your temples, prodding - provoking.

“Father was right to keep you here. You serve no purpose to anyone. You’re useless!” Mr. Burgess hisses. “Just a naked man in a glass cage.”

Absentmindedly, your feet inch closer behind the old man, blood boiling from the witnessed abuse. You’ve half a mind to rush him, to cave his head in against the glass. Before the urge can be acted upon, you feel Paul’s gentle hand against yours, carefully prying the figure from your curled fingers. You catch a glimpse of your palm, puncture wounds littering the skin from how firmly you’d squeezed. He sets the figure aside, grabbing and unfolding the wheelchair he’d left by the gate. 

“Alex, darling,” Paul sighs, exasperated. “Please.” He rolls the chair to his partner’s side. To your surprise, Mr. Burgess complies, sinking defeatedly into his seat. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes as he stares at the Sandman who continues to ignore his presence. 

“Take me upstairs, Paul.” His lower lip quivers. “I won’t be coming down here again.” Paul turns the chair, pausing for a moment. Your eyes follow his pointed glance to a freshly-cut, curved line that now disrupts the runic circle. The two of you share a look - an understanding. You want to ask if he meant to do it, but he wordlessly moves past you, assisting his lover up the staircase and out of the basement.

There’s hardly any time to process what’s happened, the Sandman already standing within his cell, cosmic eyes trained on you with feral determination. The smoke of your nightmare billows into the room, and you stagger toward him. You’re terrified to end up as you had before, near dead, cocooned inside the suffocating haze.

“I won’t hurt you.” It was him - the voice in your nightmare. He speaks softly, voice like liquid gold. It’s deep and warm, and for a moment you forget about the smoke that threatens to devour you. 

You find yourself transfixed on his figure as he presses his hands against the surface of the glass, beckoning you to do the same. You’ve no choice other than to believe his words as the smoke lashes at your limbs. Your tremoring hands slot over the glass, aligning with his. The space between beams with light, his hands phasing through the surface, boney fingers lacing through yours. 

You pull, freeing the rest of his body from the cell. His arms circle you at once, pulling you into his chest for support. Tingling with excitement and adrenaline, you hardly notice the hand he brings between your faces, fingers splayed as sand flows from the gaps. 

“Now,” He drawls. The particles sweep past your cheeks and into your eyes, your body falling limp against him as your vision fades to black. 

“Sleep.”

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[divinemissem13]

30 Days of Prodigy, day 17: Admiral Janeway

Admiral Janeway sighs with relief as she steps into her quarters at the end of another long day. She kicks off her boots and shrugs off her admiral’s jacket, leaving a pile of Starfleet armor on the floor to be dealt with later, and pads over to the replicator where she orders a glass of red wine.

All day long, she is Admiral Janeway: fearless, hopeful, and unshakeable.

But alone in her quarters at night, she can just be Kathryn.

This has become her nightly ritual, on this long journey to rescue Chakotay. She sheds her armor and then Kathryn curls up on the couch with a glass of wine, wrapped in the tribal blanket he gave to her years ago, back on the first USS Voyager.

She imagines it still smells like him. It probably doesn’t.

She looks out at the stars as she sips her wine and she talks to him. She doesn’t say anything of consequence. She tells him about her day. She tells him about the antics that the Hellions (which is how she refers to the former crew of the USS Protostar and their shadow, Miral Paris) have gotten up to. She tells him about the class 4 nebula that they flew past and that maybe they’ll stop to study it further on the way back, but there’s just no time now for such frivolities. Besides, she thinks he would enjoy studying the nebula too.

Truthfully, she is fairly certain that the only reason he cares at all about studying nebulas is because he likes to watch her watching it.

When she has run out of new stories to tell, she begins recounting old ones.

She ends, as she always does, with the story of the Angry Warrior who found peace. Only then does she allow a tear to slide down her cheek.

She stands, still clutching the empty wine glass and wrapped in the blanket, and she presses her palm to the glass. He’s out there somewhere, waiting for her. The stars twinkle encouragingly as she silently pleads for them to guide her to him.

Then, just like every night, she folds the blanket carefully over the back of the couch. She recycles her wine glass and she picks up the pieces of her uniform from the floor and puts them in the refresher for tomorrow.

Tonight, she puts on a long, quilted nightgown. She wears it because it is chilly in her quarters.

But also because, for some unfathomable reason, it is his favorite.

She slides between the cool, desolate sheets and orders the lights off. Before she darkens the viewport, she turns onto her side to look out once more at the vast field of twinkling lights and she completes the ritual.

“Good night, Chakotay. I’ll see you soon,” she whispers to the stars.

[negative-speedforce]

here, have a little angst prompt

"I just feel like my life is running away from me, and I can't keep up."

Oooh this looks like a Siv and Jay one

"I failed. Again." Siv buried their head in their hands. "I tried to kill him. He kicked my ass. A-fucking-gain!"

"You don't have to do this." Jay rolled up to Siv's side, wincing slightly in pain as he transferred from his wheelchair to the sofa.

"If I don't, then Gina died for nothing." Siv replied. "I thought... I thought, when I shot Eddie Thawne, he'd be gone for good. And me. Both of us. But I was wrong. I got dragged up from the grave as an empty shell wearing a dead woman's face. And he came back too."

"You're still Siv." Jay rubbed circles on Siv's back, stopping for a moment when she shuddered as his fingers found a bruise on their spine. "You're still my best friend, no matter what it feels like. I mean, I'm sure you still find Captain Kathryn Janeway unbearably sexy." Jay fake-swooned, placing his hand on his forehead for emphasis.

Siv snorted. "She is!"

Jay laughed. "See?"

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is... I just feel like my life is running away from me, and I can't keep up." Siv narrowed her eyes at Jay. "Pun not intended."

Jay ignored Siv's comment. "What do you mean by that?"

"When did you get engaged, Jay?"

"It was 2016, about a week before the injury." Jay replied.

"See? It's been almost four years since I died. I didn't think I'd come back, hell, I did what I did so that I wouldn't come back." Siv explained. "Everything's changed so much. It seems like everyone else was able to move on with their lives, after what happened, but I'm stuck. Stuck in the moment where Gina died."

"Everyone else has had four years to move forward. You've had six months." Jay said. "You know, what they say about grief is wrong. You never move past it. The pain is always part of you. It never gets smaller- but you grow around it. I mean, when it gets close to the anniversary, sometime in mid-March, I... kinda lose it. I'm on a hair trigger, because I'm terrified that I'm going to lose Cassandra, my fiancee, the way that I lost my best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend."

"You both were." Jay replied. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you need to give yourself time. What happened at the Prom was a nightmare, and it's probably gonna take longer for you to heal than it did for me, since I wasn't there to watch Gina die. But you need to be patient with yourself."

"What I need is to kill Eobard Thawne."

"Maybe." Jay frowned. "But karma's gonna kick him in the ass someday, even if you don't."

"What goes around sure hasn't come around yet." Siv grumbled. "That's why I have to do it."

"But it will." Jay promised. "I believe it. One-hundred percent."

[solarsunny19]

Part TWO of classic literature characters I think I could take in a fight:

1. This one suggested by a friend: Humbert from lolita

Now personally, I think I could take him with my bare hands but please allow me to tie him to the ceiling and let everybody at him like a piñata. Baseball bat with nails included 😍💅✨️

2. Any character from Romeo and Juliet, bro those guys were stupid. Tell me I could not just pit them against each other. They're all angsty teens with no braincells. I could literally introduce them to my chemical romance and then while they're distracted by their teenage angst I would knock em out.

3. Macbeth and lady macbeth

Ok Macbeth, bro was so crazy if I put a bedsheet over my head he'd have a breakdown. I feel like I could take him. BUT SOLAR, HE LITERALLY WAS IN WAR AND FIGHTS WITH SWORDS! BRO GOT DEFEATED LITERALLY JUST CAUSE A GUY WAS BORN FROM A C SECTION. BRO GOT TRICKED BY PEOPLE MOVING TREES. I think I could take him.

Lady Macbeth though, I KNOW she fights dirty. She definitely pulls hair. But I am also a dirty fighter. I think I could still take her but damn it's gonna hurt and I'm scared. I feel like she'd be like a feral dog in a fight. Honestly she might make her husband do it for her and then it's like once I got him down it's round two and I'm fighting her at half health. It's gonna suck but I could take her. In the long run she ain't much of a fighter compared to other characters.

4. Taming of the shrew

Every character. EVERY SINGLE ONE.

And let's be honest, KATHRYN WOULD BE THE HARDEST ONE TO FIGHT. Creepy old guy? Kick him behind the knees and suddenly he's fallen and he can't get up. Pertruccio? An idiot, he fills me with rage sometimes, I know he fixes his behavior (fun fact in case you didn't notice, Kathryn was not the tamed shrew) BUT I WOULD STILL WILLINGLY BEAT HIM UP. Bianca and her husband (I forgot his name don't judge me) easy. I could take them both at once. Call me over confident, I call it justifiably so.

Characters I don't think I could take:

2. Personally I don't think I could take Tom Buchanan, but I would definitely try! Lemme at em'. Idk he just sounds tall and I'm too short. I can always bite his ankles.

3. Most characters from the outsiders except ponyboy and Johnny. I'd feel bad tho. I can't hurt them, that would not be very stay gold of me.

4. The creature from frankenstein

1st half of the story, I couldn't man, I'd feel bad. I would give him a name cause I'd feel bad calling him creature and invite him to tea. I think I'd call him Dave. Also I'd get him clothes. How much of that story was he naked?

2nd half man fuck that guy lemme at em'

Ngl that whole section about the little girl was so weird like bro u sound like an incel calm down. Go to therapy before I beat you into going. I mean I'd probably die (he's literally I think 7 feet tall) and I get the whole point is that violence is not the answer and that I'm wrong for attacking him but like bro wtf.

Feel free to tell me who you think u could fight and give suggestions. This is fun

[serinmatheson1]

"Twin stars of my heart" Headcanons

Yes, I named this story I will never right. Here's some stuff about Kathryn having Mark's twins and raising them with Chakotay

This is the slowest of burns. Kathryn starts out wanting to have Castor and Pollux because she misses Mark and wants a piece of him there in the Delta Quandrant. It's not until the kids are about 2 or 3 that she starts to realize that her heart has shifted from Mark to Chakotay

Seska *hates* her. Like I know she wasn't a fan in canon but she hates her in this. Because she can't even flirt Chakotay when he's so busy trying to help Kathryn. Like that scene with the mushroom soup? It didn't happen. He was busy with the EMH working out Kathryn's checkups and how long she's going to be out in the later months.

Kathryn is 2 months pregnant when they leave and gives birth during "Tattoo". Chakotay is a little sad he's not there for the birth but it was pretty quick and painless (It's the 24th century, we have to have created a procedure for women to give birth without pain) But he is the first to see them on the crew

Chakotay is also the only one who gets to feel the babies kick. The first time they kick, Kathryn is in the ready room with Chakotay and she just takes his hand and lets him feel

If you asked them, both will deny that there is anything between them the longest time. You know, despite the fact that Chakotay has basically moved into her quarters, makes the boys lunch every day, helps them with their homework and makes sur there's dinner on the table. But totally, just being a good first officer

Headcanon worked out with @elephant-in-the-pride-parade: Chakotay finally proposes after the events of Timeless. He had planned to do it after testing the slipstream drive and that version of him carried the ring on a chain for the restof his life. When he gets the message from his former self to not wait anymore, there's a lot of crying between the two of them

Castor and Pollux refer to Chakotay as dad. Even when they meet Mark, he's just papa. Chakotay is their dad.

Castor is his mother's son. He's always talking about how he wants to join Starfleet when they get home. And like anyone who has spoken to him is like "that's the next admiral janeway."

Pollux is quieter and more philosophical. He's very interested in spiritual traditions. Kathryn has asked multiple times if Chakotay is really his father and he'slike "you were already pregnant when I met you."

The boys are identical. Their hair is more brown with red highlights and blue eyes.

That's all I got. Maybe more later? We'll find out.

@baylardo @elephant-in-the-pride-parade

[kingwithpaintedfingers]

I got tagged in an ask game by @tagedeszorns! Thank you so much, for thinking of me and asking!

Last song listened to: Probably Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale, while in the car with my friend. Don't tell my sister, please!

Currently reading: A is for Arsenic: the Poisons of Agatha Christie, by Kathryn Harkup (not to be confused with A is for Arsenic: an ABC of Victorian Death by Chris Woodyard and Landis Blair, which I have not read and hadn't heard of until I googled the title of the book I'm reading to look up the author. Might have to check it out though!). Very good stuff, goes into the nitty-gritty of molecular biology in an accessible way (speaking as a biology major who didn't do well in chemistry). Did you know that cyanide doesn't actually turn the victim cyanotic? It actually turns them pink! I never knew that!

Currently watching: Qwerpline season 3, babyyyyyyy!!! Nsburg is back, and it's wacky as always!!! That's only once a week, though, so in between I've been watching Overly Sarcastic Production's Trope Talk series.

I should watch Castlevania, I've heard it's good...and someday I need to watch Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood...idk, I have a lot of things on my to-watch list.

Currently obsessed with: Still Warhammer 40k. I need to kick myself into updating fics, though, I haven't since like...last summer, and I think people are getting impatient. 8C I'm also doing some digital art online with an adoptables group, doing some crochet, and I finally started playing Cult of the Lamb on my Switch on Friday, so that's been taking up a lot of my time.

Tagging! Oh man, uhhhhh lemme seeeeeee... if they haven't been tagged already, @relax-and-read-on, @bobthebobhere, @krynnmeridia, @wolf-tail, and @rayshell22livejournalcom! And if you want, @ludiart, you too!

[rachelkolar]

2022 wasn't as killer a year for books as 2021, but I don't know how it could be; 2021 was my introduction to Clive Barker, Livia Llewellyn, and especially the Kushiel books, which made me wail "Where have you been?!" like Molly Grue. I still had no trouble putting together my top ten first-time reads and a couple of honorable mentions. There are so many good books, y’all!

Alphabetical by author:

Watership Down by Richard Adams, read by Peter Capaldi. This was technically a reread, but it didn't click for me at all when I read it in eighth grade. Boy howdy, it clicked this time. It's a classic for a reason, and Capaldi nails the narration.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke. This is the only time I ever finished a book, flipped back to the beginning, and immediately read it again. I was crying at the end without quite knowing why. Just gorgeous and moving and wonderful.

Die by Kieron Gillen. Basically a hard R graphic novel of the 80s Dungeons & Dragons cartoon with some fascinating meditation on TTRPGS in general. It disappears up its own butt a bit, but it's still terrific.

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. This is everything I wanted AI: Artificial Intelligence to be.

Curse of Dracula by Kathryn Ann Kingsley. This is sort of the catch-all for my discovering Kingsley this year; I read *eight* of her books. She's my exact horror romance sweet spot for when I want a bit of creepiness and a lot of swoon. Sometimes you just want Phantom of the Opera where Eric gets the girl, okay? (Although that's more Impossible Julian Strande than Dracula, but how am I supposed to say no to well-done vampire smut?)

Boys Life by Robert McCammon. I did a trivia special about the Stoker Awards in October, so I read a *lot* of Stoker winners this year, and this was the best. Bradbury-like dark fantasy dripping with nostalgia. I cried twice. (CW: a dog and a child die)

The Call by Peadar O'Guilin. I freaking loved this book. Body horror plus the Wild Hunt? Yes please! Also, while this is coming from someone whose only physical disability is terrible eyesight, Nessa is possibly the best disabled character I've ever read. She has polio, and the book is crystal clear on two points: this *doesn't* mean the Wild Hunt is going to kill her immediately, but it's *horrible* for her chances. We never get any "if she works hard, then by cracky, she may as well not be disabled at all!", but it's always clear that she has a chance and anyone who says otherwise can kiss off.

Kings Rising by C.S. Pacat. When I was on a heavy Thrawn kick last winter, I asked r/romancebooks to recommend a book with a Thrawn-like love interest, and some saint mentioned this. Laurent isn't quite Thrawn–imagine Thrawn's angry teenage brother–but whew, he's close enough. The whole trilogy is good, but the power dynamics are so delicious in the third one that it wins the day. (CW: the first book has noncon, and there's repeated mention of childhood sexual abuse, although none on screen. The villain is into that sort of thing.)

Fevered Star by Rebecca Roanhorse. Black Sun was one of my favorite reads of 2020, and this is a worthy sequel. It even made me like Naranpa!

The Hidden Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab. Just…gorgeous. I loved this one.

Honorable mentions: Starless by Jacqueline Carey (speaking of great disabled characters), Prairie Fires by Caroline Fraser (the true story of Little House on the Prairie), NPCs by Drew Hayes (just a blast), Pride and Protest by Nikki Payne (a fun, spicy modernization that had me laughing out loud), and Clown in a Cornfield by Adam Cesare (a gory romp that dares to ask: what if there were a clown in a cornfield?).

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With H (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

habits i’m trying to kick (can’t get over it) (ao3) - ChristmasLightsAndSnow

Summary: Phil presses the words into his skin, hoping they’ll seep past the blush and into him. “Love you,” — out, in, out — “so fucking beautiful,”.

Hang In There, Baby (ao3) - elated_witch

Summary: Dan and Phil document their journey to parenthood through videos

"Hang Out With You" (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Phil has spent the last months of tour having Dan all to himself— if Dan wants to go out, he’s perfectly able to.

A ficlet about invites and pyjama week.

hangman (answer me now) (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: How did you get used to the haunting?

happy twink death (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Phil celebrates his 37th birthday.

hard launch at last (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “Maybe the exact right moment won’t ever present itself.” Dan can feel himself hurtling towards some cosmic revelation as they stand here on a sandy beach in Portugal, the ocean bringing out the blue in Phil’s eyes.

hard times, baby (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: For some people, their jumps came with a task. Figure it out, finish it and your past self would just fade away. That's not Dan. He's not sure why his past self is here. But he's got some theories.

Hate Me Closer (ao3) - MySecretsX

Summary: Two boys, Dan and Phil, are both from reasonably different backgrounds. Dan's an English scholar from a lower-class family, whereas Phil's parents paid his way into the school with no trouble. But, they'd probably find they weren't so different if they gave each other a chance.

Auburn Independent School for Boys has eight houses, totalling 128 students per year. It's not an easy life for Dan or Phil, but sometimes there's fortune even in the worst of events. It just takes some wits to see it, and maybe a love interest or two.

Haunted Hearts (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan & Phil find that their apartment may be haunted.. In the midst of this they comfort each other while filming spooky week videos and trying to expell the unwanted ghosts from their home

Have I told you lately, I’m grateful you’re mine (ao3) - phasamtasie

Summary: Phil is struggling with feeling like a burden on a day of strong migraines and Dan helps him feel at peace with accepting being taken care of.

He Keeps On Dropping Hints (so i won’t be the only one that’s going down for this) (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: Dan has discovered that solo tour life can be lonely in more ways than one. One particularly restless night, he aims to satiate himself - though Phil seems determined to make it as difficult as possible.

Heart of Fire (ao3) - peachaura

Summary: Phil Lester, the most notorious pirate captain to sail the seven seas did nothing more with his time then capturing and selling supernatural creatures on the black market. Well, almost nothing more…Phil had always had an impractical dream to catch a dragon, a creature that had been extinct for years, or so people said. So imagine Phil’s surprise when he actually finds one—though, when secrets get revealed and emotions get in the way, things don’t go quite to plan.

OR

the one where Phil's a pirate and Dan's a dragon and things don't happen the way they were supposed to

Her / Awakening (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Dan feels drunk on a feeling of awakening; sexual, but also something else, something unnamed.

his gentleman's personal gentleman (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Kathryn Lester acquires a valet for her bachelor of a son, and a love affair begins.

His World (ao3) - Sinninghowlter

Summary: Dan opens the door and before him stands his world.

He's finally home.

hold me down (ao3) - bloodyscarab

Summary: first you love me then you leave me on the pavement,

i know i'm your favorite

hold your head high (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: Back in his childhood ballet classes, it hadn't taken Dan long to realise he wasn't supposed to perform the moves he was learning in the same way as the girls in his class.

He learned to pack away the parts of himself that weren't acceptable, the ones that sometimes wanted to move in softer, gentler ways, that wanted the chance to express elegance and beauty with his body as well as strength.

But does he need to keep up this facade forever? Or is it finally time to let himself be free?

home (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Dan comes home to find things have changed.

home alone (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: "This is the longest we've been apart in what, thirteen years?"

A short, introspective drabble.

home for christmas (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: kath and dan have a chat on christmas day

home is where the heart is. (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: 16 year old Daniel Howell had always felt out of place in his dad's fancy apartment or under the Singaporean sun. Life was not bad, but being the son of a British expatriate banker divorcee with commitment issues meant that there was never a home.

Inspired by the only constant in his life, a similar aged British youtuber by the name of Phil Lester, Dan decides to move to his supposed homeland Britain on a whim, in the hopes of escaping his bubble of isolation, and maybe find the place where he truly belonged.

Somehow Dan lands himself in one of the few notorious all boys boarding schools in Britain, one that has bizarre traditions, vicious inter-house competition and way too many attractive boys; and a roommate who had been Dan's best friend all along, even if Phil Lester hadn't known it.

Dan finally found home.

home renovations (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Phil is a new homeowner with a knack for getting himself into awkward situations around cute guys. Dan is a builder who's always working on renovations around Phil's house. What could go wrong?

(An alternate meeting YouTuber Phil/builder Dan AU.)

How To Be A Sexy Nerd (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: “If you want something, just do it, Phil.”

How Phil finally got a Cat or Why Dan and Phil really moved out of their first London Apartment (ao3) - sky_fish

Summary: Dan said "no" to a cat already for a thousand times, but Phil still does not give up on the idea of getting a pet. The day after a severe fight over the topic, Phil disappears and while Dan borders on another existential crisis, he finds an adorable black cat in their flat...

How to have a successful date (ao3) - Phantje

Summary: Dan has trouble keeping calm when Phil tells him about a business dinner they have to attend. What Dan doesn't know is that Phil only wants to ensure that Dan accompanies him to a restaurant to have dinner together, without additional company.

A very Dan and Phil story about a successfull (in parts) date.

How To Win A Boy: Fumbling Punk Edition (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrayne)

Summary: Dan Howell, local punk, and his friends need a new cafe to hang out in, now that Dan has ruined starbucks for them (don’t ask). So they try out the new family business that just opened up a few days ago… and somehow Dan falls in love with the Pastel Goth kid behind the counter who just so happens to be his waiter. Why Phil seems to think disgusting smoothies are going to win Dan over, no one knows, but… well, they do.

How I Met My Boyfriend on Queer Eye (warning: super gay) (ao3) - danhoweiis, twoheadlights (fizzfic)

Summary: au where dan is a hero on queer eye and accidentally falls in love with one phil lester