#AND THEN YOU MAKE SAID CHARACTER GO THROUGH HORRORS AND ANGST AND HAVE LORE AND THEN BOOM WHIMSY HONNO...

[puffpawstries]

as I go insane over the timeline for lore have old art of Honno their concept drawing and then the finale version of them She was going to have no eyes shown type shit but I thought against it to be able to emote Honno a bit more Though I kinda want to give Honno the baggy pants and jacket maybe??

[https-siren]

-.Cornflowers and Kismet.-

Cw: Angst, Character "death," female reader hinted but can also be seen as GN, the reader has a plant quirk, overall just fluff, some mental health issues mentioned (not very prominent) minor to severe angst. Friends to lovers (?) some abuse mentioned (parental, both mental and semi-physical) (Messed up the timeline so Touya goes missing much later than the actual Canonic manga/storyline) Brief mentions of Enji Todoroki. Todoroki Family Abuse lore semi relavent.

NOT PROOFREAD

shoutout to my friend for helping me choose the flowers in this fic!

A little bit "rushed" idk tho ;-;

You and Touya have been friends since you were around 6-7 years old, When you found him throwing rocks at your window, leading your hand outside, you knew your life would change from then on.

Fate or Kismet, is the strangest thing. How can you just find somebody and want to stay with them forever?

The fateful night when Touya came to your doorstep was when you were only 13 years old. Hearing a small tap that came from your window made you anxious, as you feared a possible break in.

Peering out the window you noticed the familiar figure of Touya, his white locks and his blue eyes always identified him. You creaked open the window and shouted, "Meet me at the front door Touya!" You then creaked open the front door, and there he stood, with an eager smile, tinting his eyes with childlike urgency.

"Hey, walk with me for a little?" He asked smile on his face.

"At this hour?" You questioned with a small yawn.

"Just trust me! I promise nothing will happen! Plus if you come with me I can show you the surprise I have planned!" He said hand extended for you to grab, if and only if you took his questionable offer into mind.

Intrigued you gladly placed your hand in his. Wondering what this surprise could be.

He led you through the woods that coated your backyard. He led you to an opening, one that seemed to be created by him and his flames.

He let go of your hand and grabbed something perched up on the tree branch behind him.

"Suprise," he said while holding out a small bouquet of flowers.

Cornflowers

"I love them Touya," you said, examining each petal, and taking in the delicate glow they presented you with.

The happiness you two held in that moment was the experience of a lifetime, unfortunately, the loud yelling of Enji, ruined everything.

"Touya! Where are you?!" "If you're training I'll make sure to break your legs this time."

Touya's smile ultimately faded in the moment. "I need to head home." "Get home safe, I'll call you in the morning." He said while slowly turning around to walk home.

You, yourself headed home as well, holding the flowers in your hand, careful not to damage any pebbles.

When you reached home, you kicked off your shoes, and went straight to bed.

When you woke up in the morning you awaited his call. But strangely it never came.

Concerned, you decided to head off to the Todoroki Household.

Maybe he overslept? Maybe he forgot to call you? These questions puzzled your mind beyond belief.

When you reach the household, you notice the utter silence, which was strange for such a large family.

Walking to the front of the house you noticed something that made your heart drop, three police cars. Concerned you knock on the door, but you aren't greeted by Touya, Enji greets you instead.

"Touyas not here." "He's been missing since last night." He said with a somber look that was relatively out of character. As you know the horrors he committed behind closed doors.

Your chest feels heavy, and you're unable to speak, as the shock of the moment has paralyzed your body.

"There was a fire in the forest last night. Touyas' been pronounced dead." He continued. The shock of this news not registering correctly in your mind.

"Go home." "I'll call your parents when the situation dies down."

You were then met with the slam of the Todoroki family's front door.

You started to walk home. Your mind finally processing the gravity of the situation. Your best friend was gone.

When you reached your front door, your parents' car had returned to its original place. For they were home. You prepared yourself for a barrage of questions, as you slowly pried open the door. You were surprised to find your mom hugging you. "I heard about Touya, if you'd like to talk I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready." She said while breaking the hug and then walking back into the kitchen.

Not wanting to talk you headed back to your room. Opening up the door and closing it behind you only to see the flowers he left behind you, piercing your mind with thought.

What had really happened?

...

The first few weeks without Touya were an absolute hell. You didn't have the energy to do much of anything. You simply lay there, in your room, reading all the text messages you had sent to him the day he went missing.

Touya, I miss you. The police have pronounced you dead. But I know you're still out there. I can feel it. Please come home.

Touya it's been a week. Where did you go? Why did you have to leave me?

Just come home.

...

The first hard weeks turned into months with minor incidents, to six years of you trying to drown his disappearance by other distractions. Since you had a plant quirk, you did your best to keep the original bouquet of flowers. A singular petal wilting would send your mind into panic mode. You wanted to keep his memory alive.

You have moved away from home since then. Not a relatively long distance. Just one that was away from any major forests.

Staring at the flowers in your new home inspired you to replant the flowers. Not just in your home, but you'd plant them in an intricate pathway. From the opening he made in the forest for you, to your new home. So maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to find you again.

...

It didn't take long until the pathway was formed as your quirk cut down the planting and growing time by half. You waited until nightfall and the glow still resided.

You waited a few days, no signs of him. After a few weeks, no sign of him.

For it would be months until you saw him again.

One night you heard the same tapping noise on your window. You brushed it off as it was relatively windy that night. A louder tapping noise snapped you out of your doubt. Somebody was outside.

You looked out your window. White hair? Blue eyes? It was Touya.

You darted out your front door.

"Hey, beautiful." He said while you quite literally sprinted towards him.

Pulling him in for a hug, tracing your hands on his scars. You really did miss him.

For once you finally felt safe.

Kismet had brought you together again once more, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

TYSM for reading!!!!

[doctorofthedeceased]

RULES AND DISCLAIMERS BEFORE INTERACTION!

This character isn’t canon to the helluva boss universe what so ever and is part of a fan made part of the hellverse that has yet to be developed. However, by doing this, I can flesh out the story I’d like and the characters that I have to offer. That being said, please understand that this all done for the sake of my own personal fun and that I don’t plan on posting a lot to this account. That being said you can go follow me on my main tumblr if you wanna see more of my content (art wise)

- @nardomarsh , now let’s get on to the meat and potato’s of this blog.

DNI

-> Proshippers, DarkShippers, Comshippers, Zoophiles, LGBTQ + - phobics, racist, xenophobes, misogynist and sexist are not allowed here. This blog will not tolerate any of those following interactions. If any roleplay or ask lead to that I will mandate a block. I have no intention interacting with you people and this isn’t the safe space for those interactions, nor are they appropriate.

-> Minors please refrain from interaction. I don’t want to talk to anyone that’s under the age of 18, mainly due to the kind of content I produce and I prefer to talk to people that are adults. I cannot stop you, so read my blog to your own accord but interaction will result in a block.

-> Explicit nsfw material related to pornography/sexual situations with muse is STRICTLY prohibited

-> I don’t want my characters shipped with anyone, canon or oc

TOLERABLE

-> I will allow triggering material such as gore, violence, and reasonable angst. However I’m not particularly fond of vent roleplay or projecting through vents as a character. Please refrain from doing this, it’s a very awkward thing for me to deal with.

-> Mild Nsfw I will allow but I will not engage in any explicit material that involves pornography/sexual intercourse or even any fetishes/kinks. I will only use literary devices to describe if it is IMPLIED, or as simple JOKES/Idioms.

-> I don’t mind having my ocs interact with other peoples ocs just keep it within reason.

Acceptable!

-> dark/horror roleplay, narrative driven stories and action scenes are things I really like to look forward to in a roleplay!

-> Canon & OC interactions 👍

-> OC & OC Interactions 👍

-> Anonymous Questions 👍

BLOG DETAILS

Semi-Lit/Literate Blog - responses and length will vary depending on how I feel and how motivated I am and what kind of story we’re doing.

WARNINGS - Muse is a canonical serial killer in the story. There will be mentions of blood, murder, mutilation, Sadism, Masochism, autopsy’s, and gore.

In the context of regular helluva boss violence though. I’m not describing a crime scenes in terms of urban spook level.

Though I will not make this exactly apparent in the overall story except when it needs to be.

MUN DOES NOT CONDONE THESE ACTIONS NOR SUPPORTS THE CHARACTER! CHARACTER IS PURELY WRITTEN FOR CREATIVE INTENT.

TAGS

Blood Mentions/Light Gore -> #sharpIcicles

Established Murder/Dead Bodies -> #corpseparty

Lighthearted/Casual Story -> #examination

Ask Box -> #yearlycheckup

Lore -> #abrandnewdiscovery

Sexual Implications -> #spiceice

Out of Character -> #ONBREAK🌸 + OOC

Artwork -> #NardoMarshArt

Tags will most likely change as I go, and I’ll probably add more with the more people I interact with.

[ughscara]

a series of questions that literally no one asked me.

“for how long have you been writing?”

╰┈➤ ever since i was little really. i used to read a lot of books and light novels as well as watch pretty much what i found likeable on tv back then ( god i sound old ). i abruptly stopped writing for a good three to four years until 2021 rolled around and i felt excited to write once again.

“why did you decide on sticking to writing for one character? said character being scaramouche?”

╰┈➤ he's my special interest and my favorite fictional character of all time as a whole. he awakened the inner writer in me back in 2021, and my immense adoration for his character prior to his arc in sumeru and appearance in inazuma ( i absolutely adore his character progression now i love him sm ) that pushed me to let the brain worms rot and i thought hey, i really love his character, i love his story and he's a fun character in general in my eyes to write for so i went for it :)

“were you writing on tumblr before 2023?”

╰┈➤ the answer surprisingly enough is yes, i was on tumblr for a good while ( three years ). i mainly stuck around because scara content obviously but it was also fun discovering the world of fanfiction through the site. seeing so many talented authors only made the motivation to write again grew more. i used to write on my old blog too but not for scara ( vine boom. what a shocker ) instead, i was just rambling and had a bit of a heizou era there.

“your content for scara mostly consists of fluff, hurt / angst with or without comfort. any specific reasons for that choice?”

╰┈➤ it's more fun imagining him not being smashed for once. jokes aside though — i genuinely do think it's fun to imagine him in scenarios that are just really nice and fluffy and are moments that, in spite of their simplicity, still have an impact on how he'll perceive it down the line ( that's for fluff ). as for angst and hurt ( either with or without comfort ) he is an ancient traumatized man that even after five centuries worth of trauma still has angst potential <3 i love him, i don't ever want to see him suffering ever again, but i am one of those authors where happy things just don't fucking stick.

“ever considered writing smut or not-sfw?”

╰┈➤ nope, and i intend to stick on writing heavily suggestive things at best because that is the most comfortable i can get with the topic. as for not-sfw; if we're talking dark content such as horror and yandere themes — that's a maybe. but for the time being, i am not delving too much into it if not at all.

“will you write for other characters?”

╰┈➤ possibly. but not as extensively as i do with scara.

“any other characters you love ( from genshin )?”

╰┈➤ naturally! i feel indifferent about a lot of the cast. but the ones i do favor apart from kuni are columbina being my second favorite then lynette, lyney, xiao, albedo, arlecchino, freminet, furina and lastly rosaria and kokomi.

“specific question: which seelie did you choose from the lost riches event?”

╰┈➤ brilliance for kuni on my main account, rosé for columbina on my alt account.

“you don't write for kabukimono a lot unless it's for when you write about the eccentric squad, why's that?”

╰┈➤ poured my soul, blood sweat and tears into my series on tumblr. and apart from that, the majority of my content for kabuki is leaning on a more original content side if that makes sense, and that ( much to my dismay and the fuck i couldn't give ) isn't something favorable to tumblr readers so i move most of said original content featuring kabu to my ao3 :)

“if genshin is over and there's no such thing as scara content anymore, how will you go on about your journey as a writer?”

╰┈➤ i'll move on to making my own original content, it's that simple. after all, kuni isn't the only driving force for my passion as a writer — his existence to me was what allowed for my greatest passion to be literally reborn ( unapologetic kuni lore ref ) and i mean it from the bottom of my heart when i say that. i'll probably make some bs like a proper send-off that is so sappy and cheesy it'll make one go "ain't no way she's serious about this"

“let me guess, scara also sucked you into playing the game?”

╰┈➤ yes. and he brought me back to it too.

inbox questions: 1 .

[primofate]

Genshin [Angst] "It’s my turn to protect you,”

Notes: An idea from the angst survey (Yes I’m still reading your comments and suggestions on that one XD) This has the potential to be an extended fic, I feel like *thinking face emoji* I also think this doesn’t hit as hard as death and regrets though, but let me know, I’m open to discussion and criticism :D 

Characters: Aether, Scaramouche, Childe, gn!reader

Warnings: not proofread, implications of YOU dying, mentions of death, graphic injuries, might be bloody, angst, basically self-sacrifice, may not follow the exact lore, DARK THEMES FOR CHILDE’S, reader has a vision in this one and can basically hold their own, also might have power of friendship trope >_>

Personal favourites in this work: Scaramouche

Summary: He’s been paralyzed and incapacitated. It must be some kind of technique, perhaps the opponent’s vision, perhaps a type of poison, perhaps a newly developed item they used. 

He’s always protected you and he may not show it all the time but you know he’s got your back. 

This time, you’ve got his.

Aether

Abyss Heralds. Two of them. One was annoying enough, but two was a challenge. 

He’s on the ground, struggling. Cuts of different sizes, but his biggest problem is that he seems to be pinned down to the ground by some type of invisible force, heavy on his back and pressing his chest hard on the ground, it’s a little hard to breathe. 

“Y/N,” he drags his eyes towards you. Aether struggles hard against the invisible pressure, his shoulders burn at the amount of effort he’s exerting, and yet he doesn’t budge. “Y/N, run,” You’re no match for them. You know it. He knows it.

His voice is desperate and scratchy, and yet you don’t move from your spot that shields him from the Heralds, sword out. 

You’re scared. How could you not be? But you grip your sword tight and steel yourself. The two Heralds look at each other, and then look at you, as if mocking and making fun of you. “We’ll give you a chance to step away, we’ve only been given instructions to retrieve him,” one of the Heralds point towards Aether. 

Your glare intensifies, “I’m not giving him away--,”

“Y/N!! Stop!!” Aether’s voice instantly cuts yours. He can’t reach you, he can’t even feel his arms or his legs. The only things that reach you are his voice and his eyes. He watches as your head turns around to smile at him. “Don’t, please,” he continues, tears starting to blur his view. 

You’re scared.

But he’s terrified. 

Terrified as he watches the two Heralds start flinging you around like some type of rag doll. He doesn’t know if what he hears is concrete breaking or your bones. Those few seconds feel like hours to Aether, repeating a mantra in his head.

move, move, move, MOVE!!!

Still, you get up, and place yourself in front of him, arm already bathed in red, dripping on the ground. Your breathing is laboured the longer you go, you’re nearly out of energy. 

One of the Heralds pick you up by your collar. “A pest like you should have run away when you had the chance to,” and just as quickly as he said it his blade pierces through your middle. Red bursts forth from your mouth. Aether sees the blade come out from your back and the horror that grips him is immense “Y/N!!!”

You’re flung aside, back hitting the stone wall of the ruins again, the loud grumble of gravel breaking and falling echoes. How many times now? Three? Four? But this time, you don’t get up. Aether chokes back a sob, pressing his eyes closed. He starts to shake. “Stop. it.” his fingers start to finally respond to his will, the effects of the paralysis waning. He feels like he’s fighting against the weight of the world as his arms finally respond, pushing himself up shakily. The Heralds turn their attention back to him. 

Still on all fours as he struggles to regain control of his body, he picks his head up, angry tears are on his cheeks, the look in his eyes is fierce, like a monster within had just clawed its way out, looking at the Heralds.

“Don’t lay a finger on them again,”

Scaramouche

Gets into trouble with the Fatui higher-ups for running away with the Electro gnosis

You’re also part of the Fatui, but you chose to stay by him. You’re his “servant” as he likes to call you. In truth he just likes to keep you around.

He’s an evasive man, it takes a while for them to catch him but when he’s caught he’s tied up, arms and all, with some type of energy binding rope.

Scaramouche laughs and spits on the ground. “Took you a while to catch up to me,” even in such a situation, surrounded by Fatui agents and cicin mages, the whole lot of them by the dozen, Scaramouche grins. 

“Do you know what happens to traitors like you Scaramouche?” the lead Fatui asks, walking over to pull at his hair, yanking his head backwards to get a good look at his face. The balladeer still smirks. “I’d like to see you try,” he shakes his head away from the higher-up’s grip and smashes his own head against the lead Fatui’s, earning a strangled growl. Scaramouche’s own forehead is red, but he’s satisfied with the small damage he’d done. 

“Piece of--” the Fatui growls, noting that his forehead is slightly bleeding. “Your death will be far from peaceful once you tell us where the gnosis is,” 

For the next couple of minutes they try to pry the information out of him. He gets beaten. Backhanded slaps turning into kicks. A shiver runs down your body as you stare at the ground, squeezing your brain for some kind of solution. You’re tied up as well, but you knew that if Scaramouche wasn’t, no matter how many of them there were, he’d kill them all. 

He was strong enough to.

“I-I know where it is,” you let out a shaky breath. The Fatui’s hand stops in mid-air as he prepares another backhand on Scaramouche’s already red cheek. Scaramouche freezes. He’s on his side, on the ground when he hears your voice, he struggles back up to his knees, the grin on his face is replaced with anger, directed at you. “Y/N, what are you doing?” 

You finally lift your head up and look him in the eye. You know what he’s trying to tell you.

I thought I told you to shut up and stand down.

You gulp. Only one of you can come out of this alive.

And it wasn’t you.

“I know where it is,” you repeat confidently as you pry your eyes away from Scaramouche and up to the Fatui leader. “Y/N!” It was a warning bark from Scaramouche. You ignore it. “Scaramouche has inlaid the gnosis into me. It resides in my body as we speak.”

Scaramouche suddenly struggles against his restraints, the rope digging against his arms. “Stop that fucking nonsense!” He’s the only one who knows you’re lying.

Every Fatui agent knows that The Tsaritsa had given The Eleven Harbingers a special power to forcefully take and embed a gnosis into someone.

They would buy it. 

“By the power of The Tsaritsa, Scaramouche can take it out, but it also responds to me, which one of us are you willing to untie?”

They didn’t have to think. They untie you, but you can feel at least 5 of them at your back, the crackle of electro vision from the mages tickling your spine, the subtle press of the agents’ knife against the back of your neck. “One wrong move and you know what happens,” the leader says, smirking. 

“Get away from--” Scaramouche slips up, but catches himself, teeth grit and eyes trained upon each Fatui around you. If only looks could murder. 

It’s strange, because you feel a sort of peace. Without the energy binding rope around you, you gain your anemo vision back. The anemo vision that you planned to use to cut through Scaramouche’s own bindings. Once he’s free, he’ll wreak havoc. But in this state, with so many of them so close to you, inches from your neck, inches from your spine. You know that for you, it’s over.

“What the fuck do you think you are?! A fucking hero?!” You tilt your head towards your companion who you’ve accompanied for such a long time. No one but you can see the concealed panic in his demeanor. He’s caught on, but you give him a solemn smile. You mouth a quick ‘Thank you,’ before the winds pick up around him. He could be rough around the edges, but he’d gone this far with you and kept you alive.

Three things happen almost all at the same time: Blades of anemo wind cut through the rope binding Scaramouche, littering him with small cuts in the process. The five Fatui minions attack you all at the same time, there’s blood everywhere. And finally, purple lightning rains down upon the Fatui, over and over and over again, like an angry storm that doesn’t let up. 

Somehow you end up in Scaramouche’s arms. He’s gripping at you so tightly that it might have hurt if you were awake, he can feel your blood on his hands. All the agents and mages are down. He leaves the best for last. The Fatui leader now stands alone in a sea of unconscious bodies, Scaramouche looking at him with murder in his eyes.

“It’s your death that will be far from peaceful, scum,”

Childe

The higher-ups in the Fatui are noticing his decreasing lack of concentration in his tasks and jobs.

They find out he’s “distracted”. By you.

He’s restrained. Delusion, vision and weapon stripped away from him. He’s to be disciplined and re-trained.

There’s clear horror in his eyes when they unexpectedly bring you in.

“Wait,” suddenly the rope around his wrists seem tighter. “They’re not part of this,” Childe’s master turns a bored eye towards him. “Not part of this? But they’re the entire reason, I’ve heard,”

Childe feels like he’s about to throw up, and you stand in the large training room wondering what exactly was happening. Why is Childe tied up? “You there,” his master speaks, addressing you. “You can wield a blade, can you not?” You slowly nod your head, and call your weapon out, it appearing in your hand easily. 

“I’ll do the training, I’ll do everything over again, I’ll do what you want!” Childe’s knees move forward to try and bargain with his master, the two Fatui agents standing on both his sides grip at his shoulder to keep him from moving. “You see, Childe hasn’t been doing his work properly these days,” his master circles around you, and you finally get the menacing atmosphere the whole situation presents. “He’s going to be severely punished for that, but I’ll strike you a deal,”

“NO!” It’s like you can’t hear Childe protesting at all. He starts to trash around, the agents grip on him tighter. “If you can beat me in a duel, I’ll let him go, scratch free, and I won’t bother the two of you anymore,” His master smiles, almost a genuine one, but you see a hint of excitement in it. The truth is, you didn’t have a choice. You were brought here to teach Childe a lesson. 

But little old you, with your heart full of love for the man, you state, “So if I win, you won’t hurt him?” Childe lets out a frustrated shout, collapsing over himself, hands tied behind him, head pressed on the floor. He’s trying to pray to all the Gods he didn’t believe in before. “No, no, no...” He doesn’t know anyone in this world who can beat his master. This was a clear set-up. His eyes start to sting with tears and he’s getting sick to his stomach.

“None of this is their fault!” 

But the duel starts, and he can’t look. He’s afraid of what he might see. It already hurts enough. “Don’t hurt them...!” He shuts his eyes tight at all the sounds he hears. Blade striking blade was a relief, but when blade struck flesh followed by a yelp, a cry of pain. It’s almost as if he was the one getting cut open. 

Childe is hoisted back up on his knees, made to look at the scene in front of him. His master stands atop you, a heap on the ground. Childe can’t see your face, but he knows your eyes aren’t open, you’re still breathing though, he can see the light up and down of your chest. He can still-- “Watch closely, Childe, this is part of your training,”

His master raises his sword up, positioning it tip down towards you. Childe’s mouth hangs open, his voice getting caught in his throat, eyes wide. It happens too fast. The blood shooting up from the wound is ingrained in his memory.

There’s silence.

And then he lets out a loud, raw and angry roar that reverberates throughout the room. 

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[kawaiijohn]

Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently.  “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha.  You've never said that to me before.”  The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual.  Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least.  “Seriously, though.  It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!"  He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically.  "But... it's kinda, y'know.  Personal-”  Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course.  Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that).  A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking.  An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye.  With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains.  They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake.  To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions.  After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity?  Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward.  They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best.  Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him.  Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought.  Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue.  It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!”  He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?”  They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny.  They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now).  They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation.  It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response.  Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away.  “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!!  Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!”  He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions.  Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways.  And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after.  Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always.  Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ .  And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were.  There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed.  Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line.  They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse.  “Shit!  I mean... uh crap??"   They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present.  "Never mind just... sorry for asking...  Oh man!  Did I offend you somehow?  Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!”  They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core.  “We can just forget about it if-”  Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development.  Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did).  Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder.  “It is more than fine, Daniel.  You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.”  They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were.  I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment."  Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors.  "Come along- it’s best we sit for this.  I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms.  “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.”  They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time.  They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed.  Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry.  The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.”  Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme.  Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile.  “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz!  Unfair!!”  His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues.  “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this?  Well, there’s the universe right?  Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends?  But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought.  Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige.  They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all.  The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call.  Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’  The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought.  “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish.  “I got it!!  The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept?  Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’”  Danny nods to himself.  "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely.  Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah!  We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams?  The Void or something, maybe?  And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-”  Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization.  “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did.  Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.”  Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground.  “Now then.  We have drinks.  We are sitting comfortably.  I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.”  They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute.  It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life.  They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night.  Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm.  Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive.  Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt.  “Wait wait- this realm?  Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now???  Are you messing with me?  Like… I thought it was all just-”  The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone.  Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered?  Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet?  The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin.  Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts???  He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly.  One you asked I tell you…”  Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story.  Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists?  Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?”  He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head.  White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders.   Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward.  “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.”  Another sip.  Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always.  They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously.   ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you?  Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning??  Could I shoot lightning if I tried?  Like were you some sorta time wizard?  Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?”  Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age.  He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid.  “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story.  The choice is yours, Daniel.”  They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short.  The best answer.  “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue.  “Now- to answer your last question… Yes.  You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that.  Other players, situations, and pure circumstances.  The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.”  Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul.  “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response.  “Wait... me?  Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know??  Can that even happen???”  Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself.  The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache.  “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that.  You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.”  They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?”  Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers.  The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently.  After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again.  “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once.  It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter.  “Did you just use sarcasm???  Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!”  The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows.  After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes.  “But no.  Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.”  Clockwork waves their hand.  The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes.  They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender.  The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story.  “Do you understand what’s being seen?”  The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two.  Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

[badass-at-fandoming]

Just Little Malkavian Things ~

Malkavians these days can do nothing but de-conceptualize, Dement, eat hot chip, and lie.

Since people seemed to enjoy the #JustLittleVentrueThings VTMB adventure, here's a matching Malkavian one. Though I'm gonna be real with ya here, I had less fun D:

I finally figured out why I have such trouble wrapping my head around depictions of Malkavians in VTM media. Books, Storytellers, and fans say it's like having a mental illness and being linked to a massive group chat. But, listen, I've lived around and with mental illness all my life. I've been in massive group chats. Being Malkavian ain't like that.

It IS like being an early-twenties English major in the midst of an existential crisis, over-worked and cross-faded outta your skull and watching horror movies to Cope(TM)

So it's like drugs. It's like you had too much weed and too much wine and are let loose on Los Angeles. Which. My friends and I have and we, coincidentally, also "fought" a stop sign. The Malkavian PC never really seemed like a character to me: she's like a collection of cliches and dude-bros doing blunts while watching slasher movies. I named her Liotta after the Psychic Shop owner, and I'm sad Liotta didn't really get to be a person.

I wasn't surprised by any of the dialog. It's a pattern. Alliteration, allusion, animal joke. Alliteration, allusion, animal joke. It lost its charm.

Often, I didn't know what the FUCK I was saying. Which is the Malkavian Experience(TM), according to Rosa.

Anyway

Nonsense time

Most characters have an extra paragraph of dialog to Acknowledge That You Are A Malkavian. Some get an extra conversation branch. For example, there's lots of new Bertie dialog and he was all impressed Liotta knows about Gehenna and Thin-bloods <3. The Anarchs characters, especially Skelter, get a lot more. Skelter, Ash, and Liotta totally vibe.

If you sneak around the Santa Monica drug house, they talk about Mercurio?? Hello?? Mercurio, you bent Masquerade by not getting beat up real good.

Zero pretense about Voerman. Yes, I have DID; yes, I am making it your problem.

When Liotta talked to Beckett, he said the DID was "something to look forward to." Goddamnit, Beckett. That's not how the Bane or mental illness works! >:-(

I've never sneaked before!!! Did you know that the Tong AND the American gang downtown have fakes in their suitcases??? Like, Full On, "it's just stuffed with newspapers, brah." They were going to kill each other over newspapers. For some reason the Tong brought the REAL suitcase along too, but I'm so past having VTM make any sort of sense. It's fine.

Accidentally pissed off Nines. I meant farmer (affectionate) and Nines thought I meant farmer (derogatory). :(

The Dementation powers are (a) pretty purple loop-de-loops, (b) not as effective as Dominate (reaaaallyyy missed a good AOE attack), and (c) oddly enough, gave more compassionate dialog choices. I mean. In the pen-and-paper version, Dementation isn't conflict-focused, so the devs had to jigger it to use as attacks. But I was touched when Liotta made Hannah believe she was Paul, so Hannah got to say goodbye. Making Samantha believe Liotta was a pet turtle was funny and spared her the pain of her friend vanishing a second time. Heather thinks her entire experience was a dream and returns to her life, more or less unscathed.

Boris?? Asked Liotta to kill Venus for him???? DUDE, WHAT. I didn't know he could counter-offer!! What happens if you take up his offer? Who controls Confession? Does it close down??

Pro Tip: don't trust the pale woman in a cowboy stripper outfit who comes out of your vent and tells you everything's fine.

I went through an ENTIRE Ventrue playthrough without puking and Liotta ate one (1) unhoused person and blew chunks. I didn't realize Diseased Blood was a threat. What happens if you skip the Plague-bearer quest? Should you just never chomp on the Downtown unhoused community?

Strauss called Liotta "young one" and I was like, sir. You're not Beckett, you can't trick me.

A rat dances in the Downtown sewers and tells Liotta that the grass is greener in someone else's asshole.

And also will take you places.

Do you know what it's like for a Capri Sun to suddenly start speaking and offer taxi services.

LaCroix: how did Bach find me??? also LaCroix: [names his company after himself] [lives in Ventrue Tower]

Liotta told Beckett that Kindred are a joke and I got extra EXP for being so sneaky.

DMP produced snuff films even before Andrei???!!!! I thought all the blood was from the lil geo-dudes.

Liotta agreed with Andrei that Caine is here and boot-scooting around in his lil Angst Mobile. :D

As bad as Liotta was in group fights, she repeatedly made bosses cower and stand quietly while she beat them to death. Andrei had a full on lay-on-the-floor temper tantrum in his war form and Liotta just. Smacked him until he exploded. She didn't even take damage!

Imalia's computer password is ALSO "cleopatra." Just like Tawni's! Dual reference to the Embrace type

IDK why I never asked this before, but, um, who does Mitnick share the bunk bed with? Barabus..?

I went back to the Empire Hotel Penthouse suite to fetch the educational book and the Russian mob dudes were still there?? Hello, sirs, your leader is dead. You can leave now.

Liotta heard the real thoughts of the Red Dragon hostess...and also some debate about the Dark Father's presence in LA, heehee.

I thought it was fun that one of the "take me away, Cabbie!" taxi replies mentioned riding in a car like father and child. :D

"Why is the Mandarin giggling at me" is a sentence that came out of my face.

With the different dialog options, sometimes it's impossible to be polite to NPCs. For example: Liotta could only call VV "dolly/doll/toy doll" instead of her preferred names; the Chinatown gun seller felt frightened, thinking we were Police or Immigration.

Some great fourth wall breaks in the dialog: "I don't want to get involved either, but tell that to whoever is playing me!" to Beckett after the Giovanni Mansion.

"You can't spell success without whatever the hell my name is."

"If I cannot win with effort, I will cheat my way to victory. I am gone." Funnily enough, this was my first run where I didn't hack in to boost stats.

"I just want it to end. I feel like I've been playing forever."

Some nice wider lore references: "I devour knowledge like the great worm devours the corpse of society" could refer to how Salout, in tapeworm form, is devouring Tremere's body and destabilizing the Clan and/or Kindred night society.

"They should have a channel devoted to you in my head" to Beckett. In his Diary, Beckett witnesses Malkavians devouring Malkav and may or may not join the Cobweb (PS check out this great fanfic where he does).

This made me stare into space for a minute and question my life choices. During the Sabbat massacre, Liotta didn't snack on any of the blood doll ghouls (ya know, the ones with the eyes gouged out). She had such high Inspection + Finance that she had $4k in her wallet and could buy blood. I wanted to test a rumor that if you don't feed on the blood dolls, you get extra EXP. You do. BUT anywAY, right before the Tremere miniboss, Liotta was sword-fighting some goons and the blood doll...attacked him for her? Like. He moved on his own. When the goon was dead, the blood doll asked if Liotta was all right. This might have been a glitch but...the horrific implications that those men are still conscious, still willful, still feeling. ACK. I hope they got out the next morning.

RIP Ming Xiao. Flamethrower right to the tiddies.

I stole @ryttu3k's idea and noclipped through the werewolf section. Liotta still killed the Garou, but I didn't want the stress.

Caine is very Caine. "Don't you get it? We've already been judged!"

Liotta went Anarch because what little backstory I came up for her was she considered Smiling Jack her sire. Nines complimented her ability to murder.

Sheriff got sooooo dizzy that he fell over right onto Liotta's sword 27 times.

Dancing werewolf ending! Seemed fitting. :D

[ajaxwrites]

GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

-

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao. 

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line: 

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit. 

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically. 

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS? 

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

-

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called  buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not ��� we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

[unohanadaydreams]

Okay I’m mentally prepared to ramble about the Hell Arc. No panels, just words.

The first blurb is definitely Ukitake speaking and I’d like to think it’s hiding some bitterness and regret, since he’s in hell, but you know I’m not gonna hold on to hope that it’s anything deep.

Orihime being resigned to laundry as well as just NOT knowing where her son is??? I’m sorry the same Orihime that can sense Ichigo like it’s her fucking job? But y’know uwu it’s okay to be a housewife and this is definitely Kubo showing off his depth of feminist theory and not shoving Orihime in the background bc wife clean and cook and nothing else ooga booga.

Kon as a babysitter is horrifying. The implication that they’ve kept him as a teddy bear for all these years is even more so. Like damn you can’t ask Urahara for ONE gigai after you saved the world, Ichigo? Hope youre paying him a living wage for helping you navigate the terrible twos. Tbh I think it would’ve been better to have a new sidekick and for Kon to be working for Urahara now.

Okay I do think the kid sending souls to Hell on accident is pretty funny. But also it’s definitely Kubo forgetting that Orihime is in the picture and Kazui is not Ichigo. He has more than Isshin; he has Orihime as his mom. He has someone who cares very much that he’s still in his bed and is someone he would talk to about uuuuh sending ppl through a portal. I know women are a different species and are incredibly hard to grasp because of that so it’s okay Kubo.

Ichika being taught by Ikkaku and to a lesser extent Yumichika is very good. Love that enough to gloss over my disappointment at Rukia not teaching her. I just know Byakuya is probably a lil bitter about it too. Rukongai rats 1 Noble clan 0

Booooo Kubo, get off the stage. Pointing out Orihime is at home doing laundry does not fix that she’s there. If she’s not gonna stop Kazui from doing whatever the fuck she might as well be eating bad ramen too.

MAYURI MY BELOVED. You’re so right, king, Urahara is a tasteless capitalist unlike you, who fully commits to the too-organic technological horrors the Seireitei deserves.

Did Kubo forget how to draw Rangiku? Why the fuck is her face so moe. Some of the women look pretty off in the face over all but with Rangiku it’s jarring. I know her face got more moe somewhere in tybw arc but jfc it’s worse here.

I find it hard to believe that Shunsui would stick to a tradition that demands all lieutenants be away and in the human world all at once but maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about anything nowadays. Depression is leading the Gotei 13 now.

It’s not a Bleach surprise attack unless a woman is grievously injured right off the bat.

That being said, I do enjoy the two new lieutenants. The hakama shorts are a Choice but they work somehow. Also a zanpakuto being on nails is fun.

Kira and Akon ❤️ I’m glad Kubo retconned the novels so Kira could make his entrance in a hoodie and black tabi. Hope he gets more depressing and bitter moments tho. Also Akon having so much panel space…..I’ll never recover.

Hell Szayel is so fucking horny which is astounding considering like everything he did was a sex joke in Hueco Mundo arc. His sex appeal has aged like fine wine. Also pure comedy that Ichigo can only ask who he is. If only Uryu were there 😔

So did they have ceremonies for Gin and Kaname because if not then???? Like I understand it’s impossible to make this gel 100% bc its not based on anything other than wanting characters to come back as cool demons and is actively working against previous canon but c’mon. They would’ve noticed before this when no ceremony for Gin and Kaname was held and their reishi haunted everyone via molasses rain drops.

That being said, I love love love the concept of characters coming up from Hell with not holes within them but outside them. They do not need to consume others to feel completion, they are consumed to the point of wanting to fill others. Don’t you recognize me? Don’t you see what you’ve done? Don’t you long to fill that hole inside of you, too? All it takes is dying to reach that nirvana of knowing who you are and what you feel in swirling completion. Even fallen, the fruit of knowledge is divine.

I want Ukitake to say he’s glad Shunsui lived to his face while looking so heartbroken that he didn’t get to live too. I want these two to cry across from one another with a flashback to their idyllic youth. I want it *grabby hands*

Sosuke Aizen has disappeared as in dead? Or are they counting ‘out of Seireitei’ as disappeared. Honestly 50/50 whether he’ll have a form of cameo. On one hand he’s incredibly popular, on the other hand Kubo was floundering with him during tybw so I can’t imagine he gives a shit to bring him back.

As far as new lore for hell butterflies goes, I guess we’ll see how interesting it gets but I highly doubt it’s going to get a lot of thought.

With the way Kazui is smiling, it makes me wonder if someone taught him about the shrine and sending souls to hell. Does he recognize the door? Is Kubo implying that Ukitake has had contact with Kazui? I mean, it would make a LOT of sense considering the fish he was riding, the ritual he knows. It would also make sense why the soul reaper badge was highlighted; Ukitake has been around in some capacity before officially being stomped to hell???

Definitely me thinking too much about it but also there’s no way Kazui just knows this shit without someone from Hell telling him about it even covertly.

This entire arc set up definitely seems like it’ll bring some worthwhile angst and maybe some moments for the more unexplored characters if characters like Akon getting screen time is any education.

Overall not hoping for anything other than good Hell designs and seeing characters do things.

If I don’t see Kenpachi with his beefy titties out I will be disappointed. That’s my bare minimum.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

some thoughts on mag 200

i’ve been having trouble articulating this, but i wanted to get some thoughts down on mag 200, and the ending of tma as a whole, now that i’ve heard the finale twice and had some time to process it all. putting this under a cut in case people don’t wanna see it -- there’s gonna be a lot of praise here, but also some legit criticism. this is a way to sort through my feelings more than anything else.

first off, relistening to the finale, and sitting on it for a while, has made me feel a hell of a lot better about the whole thing. the episode comes off a lot better when you’re not vibrating with fear and anticipation, in my opinion. the final statement was very fitting and cool -- not my favorite ever, but i can appreciate it a lot as a final closing for the fears. and i don’t have an ear for soundscaping but the sound in that statement was cool as hell. the jonah magnus gets fucking murdered scene is incredibly satisfying. a lot of other people have said this, but i love that jon finally got his revenge, and was able to lash out against jonah for all the years of manipulation and beng used, and for tim and sasha and everything else. that was perfect. i genuinely thought we might not get a scene like this after 193 but i am so glad we did. incredibly satisfying. the girls made it out!! i am very glad that they’re ok and moving on and seem to be leaning on each other. (By God I Will Wring Found Family Out Of This Podcast If It Kills Me.) and the admiral’s okay. love that

and the jonmartin ending. oh my god. while i was never the biggest fan of the possibility of martin having to kill jon, the way it went down was so painful and good. i loved that final scene. i love the ambiguity -- that they might have died but maybe they didn’t, maybe they’re all right and happy and we can decide for ourselves -- i love that i got exactly what i wanted, that i get to have my cake and eat it too, all the angst of a jmart death and still the possibility of happiness... i am going buckwild. i love it. the longer i spend with this ending, the happier i am with it. i really really loved it

on another note... i do have some reservations about the finale and the season as a whole. i understand peoples’ irritations with the finale, and while i’m trying to focus on the things i did like, i definitely have some irritations. for one, i definitely wish the finale had been longer. i would’ve loved to see more of what wtgfs and basira were doing, and the actual lighting of the archives, etc. and while i completely understand why the scene at the panopticon went as quickly as it did -- it comes off very much as wild, frantic impulse in the heat of the moment where they’re in danger and trying to protect each other -- i do wish it had gone a little slower. 

in my mind, the biggest issue in season 5 ended up being pacing. and this might be a personal preference thing -- there’s a lot of things within the show that i don’t personally vibe with, but i don’t necessarily think they’re badly written. but i do think season 5 was slow. and while slow things can certainly work in a certain context (season 4 comes off wildly slow til you listen to 160), i wish more of what actually happened in season 5 had been baked into the end game. the season felt like it had a lot of filler, which drives me mildly crazy, because the end game feels rushed and i don’t think it NEEDED to be. i liked a lot of what season 5 did -- there’s some impeccable episodes, the character interactions are weirdly lighter and softer than they have been in previous seasons, and i wouldn’t trade a lot of the things that it’s given us (all the jonmartin interactions, jon and georgie briefly rebuilding their friendship, martin and melanie friendship, wtgfs scenes and intimacy, backstory, lore, etc) for anything. but i do think it could’ve been structured and paced a little differently. i also think it could’ve given some more screentime to the character stuff we got from episodes like 161, 170, 186, 190, 191, 192, 199... i absolutely love both martin centric monologue episodes, but i hate that we didn’t get anything like that for jon. (or for melanie or georgie or basira...) the best episodes of the season, imo, are the ones that broke from traditional form of domain statement domain, and the ones that focused in hard on backstory, lore, character introspection, character interaction... i wish we had more of this. 

when it comes to the jonmartin arc... i know this has been a point of contention with a lot of people, but i don’t hate it at all. maybe it’s just because i relistened to the majority of the season back in january, but a lot of the more grating moments that seemed large week to week (martin pressuring jon to smite people, the disagreements they had earlier in the season, jon using martin as bait in 176, etc etc) come off a lot more minor when you’re binging. personally, relistening to act i made those interactions come off as things they were struggling with through continued support and reassurance. there were absolutely things i wanted addressed, especially with the “kill bill arc” -- the disagreements early in the season, and how it seemed to turn on its head in the argument they have in 194. (i didn’t like martin blaming jon for the kill bill arc and i was hoping it would get brought up.) i also wanted to see a discussion of martin going with annabelle in 194 -- i wasn’t really ever mad at martin for doing it, but i did want to see them talk it out. 

but! after relistening to 200, i think i have a better handle on why that couldn’t have happened. martin goes behind jon’s back to go with annabelle and they don’t talk about it; jon goes behind martin’s back to sabotage the plan everyone agrees on in order to prevent the fears from spreading. if they’d had a big talk about trust, and working through martin going off with annabelle, and then jon turned around and did the same thing, more or less... it would’ve completely soured that discussion. jon and martin needed to be in a place of discourse for this ending to work. 

honestly, the more i’ve thought about this final JM arc, the better i feel about it. sure, jon and martin are in a bad place, and they’ve gone behind each other’s backs and been somewhat selfish, but i don’t think this ruins their relationship. for one, martin’s break in trust comes from a place of wanting to save jon and the world. and for another, jon genuinely feels he is doing the right thing, making a decision he can live with. (i have my own opinions as to how ethical jon’s decision was, but that’s another post. and i think the muddy ethics of this ending are on purpose -- it’s horror, a genre that often doesn’t offer ethical decisions.) their final decisions and final moments come from a place of love and protectiveness, and they change their decisions for the other. they still love each other, through all of it. i don’t think these late stage betrayals equivalate jonmartin necessarily being doomed as a couple (not that anyone has said that, but it’s worth saying). and i think it’s important to remember that this is still a relatively new relationship. it existed for approximately three weeks before the literal apocalypse, and it’s been under an immense amount of stress, as well as the constant fear that one or both of them would die. (which they did.) i’m not saying that excuses certain things they’ve said or done, but i am saying i don’t think the relationship is doomed. i think, if jon and martin have survived, they’ll need to work through things. they’ll need to talk it all out. and they’ll be able to! they’ll heal from this one way or another. the tragedy isn’t that jonmartin is doomed, or toxic. it’s that these moments of betrayal are what dooms them. and the beautiful undercurrent of it all is that they still manage to come together, and make decisions that mean they stay together. and that wherever they are, they’re still together. 

all in all, i don’t think season 5 has been perfect, and i can make my peace with that. (tma’s worst is a hell of a lot better than most shows’ best.) (i also think it might be worth considering how covid could have affected certain aspects of how the season was written -- pandemics are stressful, and i can’t imagine what it’s like to finish an enormous, in the works for years project like this in the middle of that. personally, i’m impressed they’ve managed to finish the show through all of this and keep it to a similar quality.) i think critiques are valuable and worth discussing. and i think plot aspects aside, there are several other critique related things that could be brought up about this season that people have articulated much better than i ever could. but i also, personally, want to walk away from the show feeling satisfied. i tend to be weirdly positive about things i love (the x files finale was horrendous, but i managed to get to a place where i was happy with it, for example), and i think that applies here -- even more so because i really did love so many aspects of that finale. i don’t necessarily want to linger in my own mind over what i disliked, especially considering the show is over. although i did want to air out my thoughts. 

i still love this show. i loved a lot of episodes this season, frustrations aside. season 5 will forever be my only live tma experience, and it got me through one of the worst years of my life, and i am very grateful for this. i genuinely did just want to air out my thoughts and get them all down on paper. these are just my opinions -- i don’t want to criticize anyone who feels differently about the finale, or the season as a whole. everyone’s opinion is their own. 

i feel a lot, lot better about mag 200, to the point of genuinely loving it. i hope my appreciation only grows as i get further from that frenzied first day and have more time to sit with it. and i can’t wait to see all the art and read all of the amazing fics that are going to come out of this ending (and write some of my own). it’s been a wild ride. i’m glad i was here for it.

[sirenprincess15]

Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 1

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4 (a bit of a prequel to the real story but I just NEEDED this scene to set them up), and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there. I have 14 chapters (49 pages) written so far that I am in the process of editing, and I will be writing a lot more.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

Chapter 1

It was already several hours past a reasonable time to be asleep, but Aleksander sat at his desk pouring over books on the Stag and amplifiers. He had read them all before; he even had some memorized, but he kept hoping that he would glean some hint he had missed before or understand a detail in a new light after recently reading something else. It was likely a futile effort, but he kept trying.

The night before, Alina had stumbled into his war room. He had been distraught over the likely loss of Nina. The rumors of West Ravkans helping the Druskelle capture her, of them turning on Grisha as their kin had before … they were enough to pull him back into the nightmares of the past. But then she had just been there, standing in his doorway. As embarrassed as he was that she had seen him lose control of his power and seen his eyes fill with tears, having her there was exactly what he’d needed. She had reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore, that he didn’t have to fight to save Grisha with his power alone anymore. He had hers now. The strength of her light, her warmth when she grabbed his wrist was amazing. It had been enough to banish his shadows away. She was getting more powerful as she adjusted to using what she had always hidden. Together they were strong, but it still wasn’t enough. But if they found the Stag and he worked with her, together they would be powerful enough to protect Grisha. Not to mention what an amplifier that strong would do to her lifeline.

A soft knock at his door surprised him. He’d sent Ivan to bed hours ago. Perhaps an update on Nina? “Come,” he called.

“Alina,” he couldn’t help the smile that came over his face at seeing her standing in his doorway. “Come in.”

She looked more comfortable tonight entering his rooms. He liked that she seemed more at ease with him and his proximity. Gone were the days of her backing away in fear when he moved towards her. Tonight, though, she seemed different than even the night before, more confident somehow. Perhaps it was just that Genya had retouched her undereyes to get rid of the tiredness there, but that wouldn’t account for her more relaxed body language.

“Still having trouble sleeping?” he asked with concern. “I can get you some kvas,” he offered, rising to go get her some.

“No, thank you. I … I’m feeling much more relaxed tonight, actually.”

So he wasn’t imagining things. “To what do I owe this pleasure, then? Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re here. But, two visits in two nights, careful, I might come to like this,” he teased.

She matched his smile but blushed a little. It looked good on her. “It sounds silly when I put words to it.”

“Tell me,” he commanded.

“I just wanted to check on you,” she admitted. “I talked to Genya, and she said she’d heard rumors that you often have trouble sleeping, weight of the world on your shoulders and all that. I hope you don’t mind that she shared that. She was just trying to put my mind at ease. But, last night you just seemed … Well, I worried you might need a little light tonight.” She glanced nervously over at him for his reaction.

All he could do was laugh. “You’re checking up on me?” It was unbelievable, unexpected, and adorable.

“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded.

He shook his head. “I’m laughing at me. Here I’m worried if I intimidate you, and you think I need tucked in for the night.”

“What? Is the great General Kirigan too important to have someone care how he’s feeling?”

“No,” he whispered, amazed at how she had this way of cutting right through to him. “Not at all. Quite the opposite.” It was just that no one ever cared to even notice, unless you counted when the others feared they would anger him.

“Please, join me,” he offered. He pulled a chair for her next to his at the desk.

She took it and glanced at the desk full of books. “You’re interested in the Stag, too!” she said with surprise.

“You know the lore of the Stag?” Of course he’d seen her sketches and read her letters, but he wasn’t sure how much she actually knew about the object of her dreams.

“Must you always be shocked when I know history? I am educated, you know. Perhaps not as a Grisha, but I am well-read.”

“Perhaps you’d like to help me, then,” he offered and gestured at the pile of books. “I’ve read them until the words swirl in my head, but maybe you have a different perspective. You might notice something different.”

Her eyes scanned the books and one of them caught her eyes. “This one,” she said, pulling a book of text written entirely in Old Ravkan.

He remembered Genya mentioning in one of her debriefs that Alina spoke Old Ravkan. It was a useful skill for the court, but their accents grated his nerves. Alina’s voice, though? He smiled at the thought of speaking Old Ravkan with her. “So, read it to me?”

He closed his eyes as he listened to her beautiful voice read to him in his native language. “This is different from my dreams,” she murmured as her fingers brushed a line.

“You dream of the Stag?” He hoped she would open up and tell him more.

She nodded. “I know it’s silly. Mal would tell me it’s just a fairytale, but …” she trailed off.

“It’s a sign, Alina,” he said with confidence. He reached out and took her hand. “I believe the Stag is real, and I believe it’s meant for you. People might think me a fool, too, but I can feel it. It’s meant for you. Your dreams just prove it. I want to find it for you, to amplify your powers. I know you’re scared to face the Fold, but with me and the Stag, you will be powerful enough. For the first time, Alina, I have hope.”

She was still frightened, unsure if she would be enough; he could see it in her eyes, but it was less so than before. “I did much better calling the light on my own today,” she shared.

“You did? Show me.”

She looked a little nervous, but there was more sureness in her as she stood and called a large ball of the light. “I know it’s not a lot yet, but I’m getting stronger.”

“I can tell. You’re doing great. Do you mind if I ask what changed? You do seem different tonight.”

She took a deep breath. “I think I just had to accept who I am, to stop hiding her. I’ve spent my entire life hiding. I had to accept I am Grisha, and I have a place in all this.”

He wanted to say ‘by my side’ but he worried it would be too much for her. He had probably said too much thanks to the kvas the night before, not to mention nearly kissing her. And, yet, look at how she had responded. Strong. Confident. It suited her. “Together we will have the strength to make sure Grisha never have to hide again.” He looked her in the eye. “I will not let us fail. Now, tell me about your dreams.”

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,�� you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 22 of 26

Title: Stories of the Raksura, Volume One (2014)

Author: Martha Wells

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Adventure, Short Story Collection, Third-Person, LGBT Protagonist, Female Protagonist

Rating: 7/10 (note: this is an average)

Date Began: 8/23/2021

Date Finished: 8/28/2021

Stories of the Raksura, Volume One is the first of two anthologies that take place in Martha Wells’ Books of the Raksura universe. I recommend reading the original trilogy (starting with The Cloud Roads) before these, as the stories are pretty confusing otherwise. If “fantasy adventure starring shapeshifting, winged humanoids” sounds like an entertaining premise to you, you’re in luck! To those interested, I reviewed the main series last year— here’s a link to the first book.

Of the two novellas and two short stories in this volume, my favorites were “The Falling World” and “Adaptation”, both 8/10s.

Individual ratings, content warnings, and minor series spoilers below the cut. 

Content warnings for the book: non-graphic sexual content, violence, brief mention of r*pe, brief mention of suicide, references to domestic abuse, traumatic injury, bullying, mild body horror.

#1 - The Falling World (8/10)

While on a routine diplomatic mission to a nearby court, Jade, Chime, and a contingent of warriors disappear under mysterious circumstances. Left in a precarious position in the Reach, Moon leads a search party for the missing group. The trail leads to a mysterious, ancient ruin hidden in the depths of a mountain thorn… but bizarre dangers lurk within. Finding the missing Raksura will be easier said than done.

Moon paced absently around while the others explored or drank from the pond. They were here, he thought, days ago. Just days. But standing here had the same feeling he got in ancient groundling ruins: that an unbridgeable gulf of time separated him from the people who were once here.

“The Falling World” is a typical Raksura story which takes place between the third and fourth books. If you read the original trilogy and liked it, you’ll like this one. It’s got all the pieces you’ve come to expect: creepy sorta-haunted ancient ruins, vaguely eldritch monster things, fantasy adventure, and Moon being a snarky angst machine. I wouldn’t call this novella required reading. Beyond a mention in book four, the introduction of Ocean Winter (who I don’t really remember), and a tiny bit of lore re: Chime’s weird powers, there’s nothing new here. It’s the kind of thing you read if you liked the novels and want more adventures— and that’s fine.

#2 - The Tale of Indigo and Cloud (6/10)

Umber Shadow is a minor court in the Reaches, but things are about to change. Its sister queen Indigo just “stole” Cloud, a consort from Emerald Twilight. Such behavior is one of the most taboo acts in Raksuran culture. Now Cerise, the leader of Umber Shadow, has to navigate the dire socio-political consequences of Indigo’s actions, and hopefully prevent an all-out war.

Ruby didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue either. “All right. Just be careful. Don’t let this little idiot trap you into fighting.” “Which little idiot?” Cerise asked, in exasperation. “There are so many of them!”

I have mixed feelings on “The Tale of Indigo and Cloud”. It’s an obvious choice for a novella, as the main books reference this story. Clearly, the titular characters are the namesakes for Indigo Cloud, the court in the main series. The plot is less action-adventure and more political intrigue— which is fine, and a welcome change of pace. 

My main issue is perspective; rather than Indigo or Cloud (or both), the story instead follows Cerise, leader of Umber Shadow (Indigo Cloud’s predecessor). Cerise is well-written enough, and it’s interesting to get a reigning queen’s POV. But this choice creates a layer of disconnect from the emotional tension of the story—Indigo and Cloud’s rocky relationship. The novella comes off as a chronicle of events rather than an involved story. Personally I’d find the tale more interesting if it started with Indigo and Cloud’s meeting and took their POVs. Clearly Cloud was unhappy in his old life and convinced Indigo to help him; that’s an interesting hook that I wish we saw firsthand. That aside, I appreciated baby!Stone’s cameo and the melancholy epilogue related to that.

#3 - The Forest Boy (7/10)

Tren is an orphan living in a small Mirani village nestled along a trade route. While digging through a local junk heap, he and his friend Lua discover Moon, an injured boy caught in an animal trap. Tren’s adoptive parents nurse the strange child back to health. Moon and Lua become close friends, and Tren grows to resent the newcomer. But when a creature from the forest attacks the three children, Tren learns that Moon’s hiding a deadly secret.

He wasn’t a fool; he knew it was jealousy, like the jealous herder in one of Ari’s stories who lost his herd by trying to make it bigger than those his neighbors owned… Moon was big, strong, helpful, good to everyone, and everyone in the house liked him. He also had the added mystery of being a wild boy from the Long Road, without any of the dirty or violent habits a real wild boy might have.

But knowing it was jealousy didn’t seem to help Tren make it go away. It just made it worse, since now he could feel guilty about being jealous.

I liked this one! “The Forest Boy” introduces some early characterization for Moon; in particular, it adds context to Moon’s natural suspicion of others. Poor boy just wants a family— but he’ll always be at a remove from others since he has to hide his identity. No wonder he constantly doubts his place among the Raksura once he finally meets them. Here he finds a potential place to belong, but it comes crashing down just for being himself. It’s especially yikes knowing that this keeps happening well into adulthood. I felt kind of meh about Tren as a character, but hey, it’s a short story.

#4 - Adaptation (8/10)

Chime has been an Arbora for his entire life; the wingless caste of Raksura who keep the court running. But one day, when shapeshifting into his Arbora form, Chime blacks out. When he awakens, he finds his body has transformed into a winged Aeriat. Now with his entire identity called into question, Chime becomes an outsider among both Raksuran castes. But perhaps more troubling is what this shift means for the future of Indigo Cloud.

Someone must have carried him out of the central well; they were in one of the smaller side rooms, the one with a fountain pool fed by a channel in the wall. Chime stumbled to the pool and almost swayed over backwards. Catching himself on the rim, he stared down at his reflection.

He was looking at a Raksuran warrior, tall, lean, with blue scales. Horrified and fascinated, he raised his spines to see if they were longer, and something else extended out behind him. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at the edges of his wings as they unfolded from his back.

We love Chime in this household, so I’m happy to see a short story from his POV. Like “The Tale of Indigo and Cloud”, this was an obvious choice to write, since there’s a lot of discussion in the main books about it. Chime’s horror upon waking in a strange new body, the resulting social isolation, and his first steps toward accepting his situation, are all very compelling subjects. It’s no wonder the poor guy latched onto Moon right away. I think “Adaptation” is too short for its heavy and complex subject matter. Something like this could easily be a novella. But I did like it for what it is. 

Closing Thoughts

This anthology was fine! I basically wanted a little more Raksura content, and this certainly delivered. Short story/novella collections are always going to be hit or miss with me, so I consider 7/10 a pretty good average score. As I mentioned above, only read this if you’ve read the main series, or you’ll be lost.

[chaoticspacefam]

6.  “How do you think this will all end?” for D'leah, please <3

Pinky once again picking THE juiciest possible combo of prompt + characters, everybody go thank her bc I had a blast with this 👀 I’ve been wanting to write a oneshot for this part of the story for a while and this is the perfect excuse mwahaha 

@palepinkycat here you go! Sorry this one took a little while, I haven’t had time to sit and write it out till now, but hopefully it’s a decent enough length to make it up to you! 👀

I have more to say about the body language I described in here (namely the significance of the “under chin” snuggles & also why D’leah Yelled At Abe When He Tried To Do It To Her At The End), but I have a Worldbuilding tag somewhere in my mentions so I’mma save it for that basically. More Tomato Lore gonna drop sometime in the next week or two once I’m done with the drawings skshsks I tried to do one for this one too but it was not coming out right so maybe some other time XD

I’ve seen a lot of fics explore what it’s like to have a Force bond and communicate with it but I’ve seen very few that deal with the “what if it breaks when one of them dies” side of it, so this is my take on what happens and how it probably feels for the “surviving” party; I usually describe my Force bonds as a sort of ethereal “thread” type thing that then connects their emotions/souls/however you want to see it and yadda yadda, so...you can’t tell me that snapping that thread wouldn’t fucking hurt ;-; For extra heart hurty, the song quotes were the main two songs I listened to while working on each “part” of this fic, so you can use them for ambience if you want ;)

As always I use the Coruscant Translator for (most of) my High Sith, translations are included on the bottom however :) (since the quote from the prompt is said in Sith, they’re gonna talk in High Sith sometimes being well...Sith :3)

Abaron is the best brother-in-law, I do not make the rules. D’leah you need to apologise to this man immediately 😂 she does, immediately after this (not shown) dw, I swear

Timeline/Setting: 3729 BBY (roughly/according to the still-holey timeline I’ve been working on since the “canon” one was released) Immediately post-Valkoriate takeover. As in, literally just happened slash is happening as this occurs.

Warnings: Character Death mention (Kissai), Breaking Force Bonds, Plenty of angst (it was from an “angsty” prompt list, after all! 😬) , possible slight gore (?) in the form of description of a former  injury from a concussion grenade (just to be safe lol), and ofc some Cuss Words (™) 

^^ these are ur warnings, click past this cut at ur own risk and I am not responsible for how you react bc you chose to pass the warning k thanks ^^

“Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not. He’s good and he’s bad and he’s all that I’ve got. Oh lord, oh lord, I’m begging you please...don’t take that sinner from me -” ~ The Civil Wars, “Devil’s Backbone”

It all happened so fast, they had to react fast if they were going to save the twins, and D’leah knew that. She’d tried so desperately to help her husband, pouring as much of her Force energy as she could through the bond they shared. It had always worked before, why wasn’t it working NOW?! D’leah didn’t know, but she could feel him growing weaker and weaker by the second. 

D’leah - his voice was so distant and faint, she almost didn’t want to acknowledge the reality of it. No, no no, he wasn’t dying he couldn’t be dying, no no no…. D-Don’t do this. Sai… her grip on the control cluster tightened until her knuckles turned pale, they were already in the air. It would be easy to do what she knew he was about to ask...but it would mean leaving him to his fate. Could she do that?

Dimly, D’leah could hear Abaron chattering to the girls behind her as he made sure they stayed in their seats, but she couldn’t hear the words any of them were saying, there was just him and that horrible, ominous weakness bleeding from her husband’s end of the bond. 

You need to run… Kissai urged her. PROMISE me. The girls-

I can’t...not without you! her mind-voice caught as if the words were difficult to form, she felt him slip further away and frantically tried to bolster his strength up again, but somehow, she couldn’t put her finger on how, it only seemed to make the other Pureblood weaker. Sai, snichi… she pleaded, and she could feel the barest attempt at a smile from her husband as he gave her his final farewell, 

Nu aki j’us, D’leah. RUN. For me...

His words were far weaker now, more forced, as if even Kissai knew he was running out of time to convey his plea. D’leah realised with a growing sense of horror that they really didn’t have another option, she had to protect their daughters. She reached towards the navcomputer to punch in the quickest hyperspace code she could think of that would get them as far away from Imperial Space as possible, but never managed to get there. 

The pain hit her so fast that D’leah had no time to prepare for it even if in reality, she’d known it was coming. First, came the white-hot metal rod of pain that jammed right down the center of her spine. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire and it was this that was enough to cause her to cry out in pain and lose her grip on the ship’s controls as the Pureblood was thrown sideways in her seat. She managed to fall with just enough grace to get herself out of Abaron’s way and as she hit the floor and the pain kept coming, she faintly heard the man curse in High Sith as he lunged across to take her place in the pilot’s seat before they nose-dived into Force-only-knows what, out here in open space like they were. 

Then she felt the thread of Force energy between herself and her husband straining, threatening to snap, and before long, it did. D’leah knew logically there was nothing she could do to stop it, and that trying would make it hurt more, but she was desperate and on reflex she could not help but try. Frantically, she reached out with her own Force energy and clasped for each thread as it tore away from her, bit by bit, as if clutching at the strings would somehow, futilely, keep him here. Would let him live. But still, the pain came again, and again, and she fancied that the sinews of flesh being ripped from bone when she lost part of her face to that concussion grenade had been less painful than this. “No...no no no no please...please! NO!!!” Everything else was so faint and far-away in comparison that D’leah didn’t realise that her scream had been out loud this time, her fingers fumbling for her heart, though she couldn’t rightly tell if that was where the pain was truly coming from and it was simply a reflexive reaction. 

For a long while she clenched her teeth through wave after wave of pain, and while it didn’t stop, it became easier with every breath for D’leah to push it into the background. Slowly, the Pureblood’s blurry vision cleared and she realised the twins were staring down at her, wide-eyed in horror. 

She needed to get up. She needed to go to them, she needed to be strong. For them.

Saarai reached for her first, but she scooped both of them up into her arms as best as she was able, all but falling into the seat where the twins had been huddled moments before. The girls both clamored to settle themselves as close to her as they could without pushing the other out of her grasp too. D’leah held onto them as tightly as she could, only vaguely aware of Saarai’s voice as she chattered a question up at her, catching every second word or so. “Moooom!” as she reached up towards her again, and “Dad...gonna find us...right?” 

Their mother shushed them softly, adjusting her grip to fit both of the twins, as best she was able, beneath her chin. Safe. They were safe there.

“Shhh, shh-shh, my little one.” she croaked shakily, a tremor passing through her frame as she tried to keep her voice steady and convincing through the lie. “He’ll catch up later, don’t you worry.” 

They sat in silence, D’leah clutching them against her chest as if they, too, might disappear if she let them go for even one second, and Abaron took over piloting the ship so that she didn’t have to. He’d practically done all the work already, anyway. She risked a glance down at her daughters, and caught the wary glint in Saarai’s golden eyes, the sideward glance at her sister, and she knew that they knew it was a lie. But she had not the heart to tell them that yet. Not now, through the tears that had begun to stream from her eyes despite her attempts to hold them at bay. She did not mean to cry, but what else could she do??

Saarai’s tiny fingers reached up shakily, when she realised what they were, to brush the liquid tracks from her chin and the spurs on her jaw. It only made her cry more and hold them tighter.

“Nunchi woiunoks, oi ai utja…” she breathed soothingly, hoping it was convincing enough for the twins. “Mom’s got you...nothing is ever going to hurt you while I’m here.” She held them like that right until they landed.

“The daughter of a lawyer, told the fallen priest “it’s a cold, cold place in the arms of a thief”, And tapping at the arrow in her heel, she said “LEAVE ME ALONE! ...but just don’t leave me here, alright?” Alright..” ~ Iron & Wine, “Arms of a Thief” 

By the time they arrived at their destination, some planet called “Rishii” that she doesn’t ever recall knowing of before - but perhaps that’s a good thing - and Abaron managed to find them a place to stay, the pain she had felt had dulled to more of a phantom throbbing than anything else. But her consciousness felt vulnerable and empty without Kissai’s own Force presence winding around hers, she felt alone, even though physically she was not. D’leah had sung and rocked the twins to sleep, with some effort, and glanced down at them as they slept, Ni’kasi’s arms curled around her sister as she burrowed under her chin for comfort beneath the blanket their mother had tucked around them.

The pain was gone, and in its wake came the FURY. It bubbled to the surface all too quickly, and D’leah began to tremble again, a growl rumbling deep in her throat as she realised that first, the girls were theoretically out of danger, and secondly, she still had a ship. She could go back. 

“I’m going to kill that fucker.” the Pureblood wheeled for the door, only to find it blocked by Abaron, who seemed to have pre-empted her outburst. She stopped short, a hiss slipping past her teeth as her lip curled back to show her fangs briefly. “Abe. Move.” she snarled, resisting the urge to shout so as to not wake Saarai and Ni’kasi from their slumber. The tips of Abaron’s jaw spurs shook as, for once in his life, he declined to follow her order. 

“No. My Lord, I can’t let you do that.”

It took every ounce of her self control not to do worse, but as it was, D’leah tried to lunge for him so she could force her way past, he might not have been taller than her but he was stronger, and heavier too. The man reacted just as quickly, his own hands closing around her wrists to push back and keep her in place, his own feet firmly rooted in the doorway as he grunted. “D’leah! Listen to me, please!” 

The tears threatened to come to the surface again, her eyes burning hot, though this time the matriarch forced them down, though her voice still quivered as she spat, each word punctuated with a quiver in her voice.

“You have no idea how I am feeling right now!”

“Not wholly, no.” Abaron argued, releasing her arms as she dropped them back to her sides, her remaining spurs still rattling softly in agitation. “But I know that going back there now is foolish, my Lord!” 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way!” D’leah hissed, though she didn’t have the strength left after the manic dash away from Kaas to call the lightning to her fingertips and lend to the threat she was trying to punctuate. “H-He is sitting there, on our homeworld, w-with our people’s blood on his hands!” she tried to shove him again, but her fist connected dully with the plated armour on the other Pureblood’s chest and didn’t make much of an impact on him. “They’re all dead and y-you just want me to -!!” 

“I’m trying to protect you, my Lord!” his teeth flashed back at her, yet another thing she would not have stood for if she was half as lucid as usual. He continued on further, his voice a low, agitated growl as he lowered his face to hers as if to punctuate his point. “That is my charge, it’s what you bid me to do and I will not have you risking your life for such a foolish venture, you’re not thinking straight! We are the only ones left! It’s my duty to make sure that all three of you stay alive!” 

She flinched at the reminder. Them, and Vowrawn, perhaps...if he was sneaky enough. But Abaron was right, going back would put him at risk, too. His eyes searched hers frantically, and his hands remained raised as if Abaron wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t need to hold her back again. D’leah was in half a mind about it herself, she wasn’t sure how to react now. And what her brother-in-law said next put the nail in the coffin, so to speak: 

“Dias dari j'us minti pa saû iki wisa qorit?” he urged, the words a muttered whisper.

The Pureblood matriarch felt her anger fizzle out almost instantly as the realization sank in. The girls....they were only children. They were far too young for this. Too young, they were too young for this talk of death and loss and grief; too young to have to understand if she left them here and did not come back either. Their father’s passing would weigh heavily on them for the rest of their lives, they didn’t deserve to have to lose their mother, and on the same day, too...

She deflated, her shoulders sagging in defeat, and another tremor wracked her frame as she dropped her own gaze to the floor for the moment. “Abe...I-” 

“I know.” he sighed, relaxing as he stepped up to draw her against his chest sympathetically. She almost didn’t react, until she felt his chin brush the top of her head and she realized what he was trying to do. Despite his attempt at the gesture being comforting, D’leah jerked herself away from him to growl warningly. “Dari nindz.”

He looked momentarily taken aback, holding his hands up amicably as he apologised. “I was just...I thought you needed-” “Nu sûa nindz zo ardira!” she snapped at him, but mercifully, turned away from the door and stalked further inside once more.

____________________________________________________

Sith translations, in order:

Snichi... - please... 

Nu aki j’us. - I (romantic) love you.

Nunchi woiunoks, oi ai utja. - Sweet little one, it’s alright.

Dias dari j'us minti pa saû iki wisa qorit? - How do you think this will all end? 

Dari nindz - Don’t.

Nu sûa nindz zo ardira! - I’m not a child!

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Ciule and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for sitting down with us for a chat.

SS/HG readers might be familiar with your stories “Awkward” and “Headmaster’s Wife”. 

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? Well, I sort of took one of my real names, swirled the letters around in the air with my imaginary wand, and I ended up with this. Can’t begin to imagine where I got the idea from... ;-) Later on, I realized that Ciule is actually a name in Romania. I had no idea, but there are people out there carrying this name for real. I guess I’m #sorrynotsorry?   Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? To be quite frank: No one, really. This is more about the characters I like, than truly identifying with them. I can relate to parts of some of them, but not the whole package. Primarily, I write about Hermione, Voldemort and Severus, and the one common thread between those three is the search for knowledge. That’s a trait I can identify with, but I’m neither an evil bastard, a grumpy protector nor a fretting, intelligent activist. I am, however, a swot. If you had asked who I’d want to be, the answer is clear. I want to be Albus Dumbledore. Though I can’t agree with the things he did, I feel absolutely certain that he’s the one who has the most fun during the books. I want to have that twinkling fun in face of absolute chaos.   Do you have a favourite genre to read (not in fic, just in general)? Fantasy! Definitely fantasy. While growing up, I read ‘everything’ in every genre, and in my twenties, I decided I’d spend my time reading what I loved the most. So, fantasy it is. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? You landed me in an existential crisis right there. I mean, there’s so many to choose from! ‘Wuthering Heights’, I think. It hurts so good. Or maybe ‘Rebecca’, at least, I loved that when I was younger. Or the fairly obscure ‘Lorna Doone.’ When I was a kid, I wanted to be a film director, shooting Lorna Doone into an epic film. Oh well, there might be a theme in this selection of books which reflects in my writing… At what age did you start writing? The creative process has gone on since forever. I’ve told myself thousands of stories in my head, but rarely written anything down. At the age of ten, I had a co-writing project with one of my friends. We created this secret room in her basement, and painstakingly wrote a ‘novel’. It was fun, though the writing ended as it became too cold down in the basement during winter. How did you get into writing fanfiction? In 2009, I became completely obsessed with a TV-show in the last episode. I was watching the entire series, casually enjoying the murder mystery, and in the last episode, the villain said: “I can do the math,” and I was literally gone. That obsession sparked writing my first fanfic stories. Those stories are still on FFnet, but they aren’t any good. *shrugs* What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? Compromise. The world isn’t a perfect place, and will never be. You can, however, make it more to your liking. It may not be perfect, but if you play the cards you are dealt, you might improve something. In Robert Jordan’s “the Wheel of Time”-series, one of the characters goes through a test in a parallel universe of sorts, and she thinks: “The world was not what she wanted, not anywhere near it.” I loved that: trying your best to make things as you want them to be in the face of dangers and difficulties.   And then there’s time travel! I love messing with time, and there are so many great Time-travelling fics. Plus, I have to say I have a certain love for the villains...   What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? Currently, I’m not writing for any other fandoms. I read Star Wars, GoT, POTO and LOTR, and in the past I read Smallville. Though it’s more of a type of ship for me, because I only read Reylo, SanSan, Erik/ Christine, Lex/Lana and ….drum roll… the extremely small and quite oddball ship of Eowyn/ Grìma Wormtongue. If you’ve never tried the last one, go search for the fantastic stories by auri_mynonys. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? One change: duh, that’s easy, isn’t it? Severus lives. Or, maybe Dumbledore acting more rational, not keeping so many secrets. Maybe telling McGonagall that Severus is on the Order’s side… (Interviewer is laughing - ”NOT so easy”) I do write Voldemort wins AUs, but I wouldn’t want canon Voldemort to win. I prefer him to be more sane than in canon. My absolute favourite piece of fanon has to be the Black library. I thought it was canon, but it’s not. This is a thing that really, really should exist in canon! Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? I’m very much inspired by music, and sometimes I listen as I write, but not always. Some fics are heavily inspired by music, such as ‘Absence’ and the last epilogue to ‘The Manipulation of Time and Matter’. What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? Definitely ‘Two Steps from Hell,’ by the amazing Ssserpensssotia, but that’s a Volmione. This was such a wild ride, I felt like I was on the edge of my seat, holding my breath the entire time. Those twists and turns were so unpredictable and … Well, I’m in awe. The SS/HG fandom is so massive, there’s a plethora of great stories out there. The unfinished ‘Self-Slain Gods on Strange Altars’ is a wonderful story by scumblackentropy, and I love Slytherpoufs stories, especially the wip ‘Ghosts’, but also ‘Angels to Fly’. And then there’s the one that got away - it means, I can’t find it. In this story, Severus watches the thestrals, befriending one of them, I think, but they’re unpredictable and maybe even dangerous. He’s heartbroken, and knows how it all will go down, having bitterly accepted his role. It made me cry. And then there’s the works by Aurette, and lena1987, Subversa, Kittenshift… Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process? I need (strike that: want) to draft the entire story before I post, to have some idea on how it goes. That makes it easier to write, but if it’s a long story, I’m happy as long as I know the general direction. This year, I finished a story that was on an unintended hiatus for two years, and I think part of my problem on getting back into writing it up was a too vague idea for the ending.   What is your writing genre of choice? Uh. I don’t know? Basically, you could argue that I’m a porn writer, or at least it’s fuelled by sexual tension and angst. So, romance or drama, bordering on erotica might be correct. To be frank, I haven’t really thought about categories after I started posting on AO3. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Hard to say. I might go with “the Manipulation of Time and Matter,” because I think it’s the best plot I’ve created. Besides, I managed to write Hermione having a relationship with both Severus and Voldemort in the same fic. My favourite “clean” SSHG would be the short story ‘Grimmauld’. Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? In Grimmauld, the house became a character. That was unexpected, and not something I had planned from the beginning. So the lesson would be “don’t start posting until you know what’s going to happen.” Or else, this story might have turned out very much different. I had to throw in a little made-up lore on how you set blood wards on a house too to make it sentient. That proved to be a quite chilling piece of magic.   How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? I love old houses. Exploring abandoned houses, going inside to see what remains of furniture, tapestries and everything is so exciting. (It can also be dangerous, but that’s another matter). Such houses makes me feel .. nostalgic, plus I get those nice little shivers down your spine that is a little like a horror story. So, I wanted to use Grimmauld as a setting to explore that in a fic, to really dig into the aching loneliness of a lost house. The story came very quickly to me, so I guess that helped me.   What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? Big question there. Hmm, I think … it’s hard to say. I’m a reader, really, and I couldn’t easily pick apart any influences. Though I have to say that one of the things I enjoyed when reading ‘Two Steps From Hell’ was the attention to magic. I think it’s important to include spells, rituals and the use of magic in my fics, because that’s what sets it apart from a Muggle AU, for example. That’s an important part of the world-building.   Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? My significant other knows. I didn’t tell him, but he found out for himself, probably by spying on me. When he told me, I almost couldn’t stop laughing, because he… erm, he said he had thought about reenacting a scene in my PWP ‘Twenty Points to Gryffindor’, where Severus shouts the title as he… well… you get the gist. If he had done that, I’d have had a heart attack. I would literally be dead. Instead, I laughed non stop for an hour.   How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? Haha, so true. You spend all those hours in front of your laptop - and if I wasn't motivated by doing it for myself, I can’t even see how I’d force myself through all those hours. It’s fun, though. I do this because I love it.   How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? Very important. I'm on the publishing sites (visible interaction is why I prefer AO3 instead of FFnet) and on Facebook, mainly. I love feedback (as all authors do), and when people form theories or make comments, I get an insight into my own writing. I know how it’s going to pan out, but the audience doesn’t, and how they perceive things might be different from how I think it is. At times, it influences how I go forward, mostly because I need to add things, to explain what’s going on. What is the best advice you've received about writing? Don’t post until you know the ending, and remember: the devil on your left shoulder will be at war with the angel on the right side. Listen to the angel telling you to wait a little longer, and not to the devil chanting: ‘Post, post, post!’ In the end, of course, you’ll give in to the devil, regretting it until you’re done. What do you do when you hit writer's block? Read. Read a lot. And read some more. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Certainly. I’m a foodie. For example, everything that Voldemort eats is stuff I love. His food habits are primarily mine, and I love cooking.   Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? It’s a short piece, maybe three or four chapters, with the title ‘Transference’. The point of departure from canon is during their time in the tent at DH. Hermione wakes up in a bed, in a room she doesn’t recognize, having no idea where she is, but she spots a large, moving picture on the drawer:  Feeling panic rising, she stared hard at the moving and smiling pictures, and her heart leapt into her throat, pulse hammering as she recognized herself in the largest picture. A slightly older Hermione, in a white wedding dress, kissing and laughing at someone who simply had to be a much younger Severus Snape. It had to be him: Long black hair, hooked nose, sallow skin - but then he looked so young, carefree and happy - expressions she had never seen on her dour Professor's face. Beside the picture, there were numerous cards, greetings and well-wishings for their wedding - the date an impossible 21 August 1982, and amongst the cards, the largest one stood out, the black ink showing an elegant handwriting: “Dear Hermione and Severus! Best wishes for your wedding, Lord Voldemort.” Any words of encouragement to other writers? Read and write, in that order. Don’t worry about trolls, because when you contribute something that you created, it makes you so much more than people spending their time just raining on anyone’s parade. You brought something new to the world, they’re just reacting to things. If someone accuses you of a self-insert, go ahead and lecture them on the intentional fallacy. I promise, you won’t regret looking it up. ;-)   And please, mind the normal physical limits when you’re writing smut. Unless you give the male a stamina potion or put him under the Imperius, it’s unlikely that his refractory period allows him to come five times in one hour. Realistic smut is so much more sexy, lol. Thanks again for speaking with us Ciule.

[kaisooficrec]

Kaisoo Our Love As One 2 (2019)

The second round of the lovely OLAO has begun! We’re blessed by so many kaisoo fics! We encourage you to show your support and appreciation for the authors by leaving kudos, comments and shoutouts on twitter ^^ merry christmas everyone!

#1. Confession

Genre: Romance, Soulmates, Imprinting, College/University AU, Jealous!Do Kyungsoo Length: 6,436 w Rating: PG-13 Summary: Do Kyungsoo received a confession in front of the entire campus from a complete stranger. And he said yes.

#2. Case #: 181102 (The Red Cube)

Genre: SCP Foundation,Tempo MV Inspired AU, Unreliable NarratorSCP - 3008 inspiredSCP - 167 inspired Length:  9,247 w Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Kinks/Other: Blood and gore, Graphic descriptions of violence, self-injurious behaviors, memory alteration, horror movie tropes Summary: It has been years since Kyungsoo first entered the Red Cube, he isn't sure whether there has ever been anything besides it.

#3. A Summer of Plums and Peaches

Genre: fluff, country boy vs city boy AU Length: 11,450 w Rating: PG-13 Summary: Jongin visits his grandmother every summer in the rural town in Korea where she lives. There are two problems with this: he can hardly speak Korean and he hates the heat. One day, he gets lost and ends up in a patch of poisonous vines when he meets Kyungsoo, the farmer boy with a heavy country accent who doesn't believe Jongin doesn't speak Korean. This summer vacation is going to be a long one.

#4. Ask Me And I Might Answer 

Genre: slight angst, fluff, doctor AU Length: 12,225 w Rating: NC-17 Warnings: minor character death, pregnancy scare  Summary: When Kyungsoo volunteered to read for the kids at the hospital with his step-brother, he didn't expect to encounter any trouble at all. But trouble came in a form of a handsome surgeon-in-training, Kim Jongin. Not that he was a bad influence or anything. In fact, he was the exact opposite. But he was trouble for Kyungsoo's stubborn heart.And Kyungsoo didn't need that. And he certainly didn't need a pregnancy scare just because he's showing symptoms of pregnancy weeks after they spent the night together.Kyungsoo knew it was the chicken.

#5. don’t tell me the moon is shining

Genre: bakery AU, uni AU, angst Length: 7,487 w Rating: G Warning: implied/referenced character death  Summary: Time bends with his wrists, its passage as malleable as the dough between his fingers. Everything is slow; and in no unpleasant way. The old ceiling fan circles as though swimming through honey, and the adjacent lights hum the afternoon away. Kyungsoo himself feels absorbed in the warp, his breaths deep and his blinking almost sluggish. It’s relaxing. A breath of fresh air and a return to familiarity, all at once.

#6. (now you wanna) play with me

Genre: celebrity AU, actor!kyungsoo, slice of life, smut, humor, fluff Length: 14,064 w Rating: NC-17 Summary: kyungsoo is an actor and jongin's the first photographer to take him home after a shoot for vogue

#7. Destiny

Genre: historical AU ish, slight angst, slight drama, supernatural elements Length: 9,208 w Rating: NC-17 Summary: Kyungsoo wanted to build things that will last, not destroy them. But the latest project he got from his father's architectural firm was to demolish a beautiful, old house. He can't understand but there was a pull when he saw the house's picture. Like he just have to be there.His questions were answered when he roomed at the old house's attic and talked to the boy who used to stay there. The only problem is that the boy is 100 years from the past.

#8. Mr. Kim’s Boyfriend

Genre: Angst, Mafia au Length: 3,150 w Rating: NC-17  Warning: Kidnapping, Blackmailing, Misunderstadings Summary: It start with a joke and it end with a disaster, Kyungsoo was joking about him being the boyfriend of the most powerful gang leader in the town " THE KIM", who no one knew really.But the problem was when someone hears Kyungsoo saying that he's the gang leader's baby boy and start spread the rumour. Kyungsoo didn't bother to correct them yet it spread enough to reach the most dangerous gangs's ears.

#9. To Those Who Feel Nothing

Genre: Rebellion against the government, Slight Angst, Dystopian AU  Legth: 10,344 w Rating: PG-13  Summary: In the utopia of the Stato Kolektiva, emotions have been destroyed for the sake of logic and progress. Do Kyungsoo runs an underground operation of bottled emotions for a hefty price in the city of Nova Okazo. Fear, Happiness, Sadness - he has it all. All except Love. He cannot make what he has not felt. But then he meets a dancer.

#10. Just Believe

Genre: Fluff, angst, dystopian-ish Length: 5,744 w Rating: PG-13 Summary: Kyungsoo's time had come. When you’re 12, you have to pass the test. if you hear the song and sing along, you’ll have to go in the “static”. kai wishes he could meet d.o. again, but he’s long gone now.

#11. Best Of Me

Genre: Caretaker au, drama, angst Warning: Blind and paralyzed character Length: 15,320w Rating: NC-17 Summary: When Kyungsoo was hired to be Jongin's caretaker, he had expected the job to be difficult but he didn't expect to care for his patient more than he should. Jongin, blind and paralyzed, constantly belittles everything Kyungsoo does but Kyungsoo just takes it all in for he knew that pain can make monsters out of the best people. So Kyungsoo vowed. He promised himself that he will help Jongin go back to the best version of himself. Even if it would mean that Kyungsoo had to burn and fade out just to reignite the fire within Jongin.

#12. Rain Drops

Genre: abo au, royalty au Length: 14,616w Rating: NC-17 Summary: As an Alpha prince, Jongin is expected to marry an Omega from a Nobel family, not the stray they picked up on the side of the road on the way to his summer home.

#13. it’s heist time, baby!

Genre: robbery au(?), it’s a cute robbery though :) Length: 4,849w Rating: G Summary: a halloween heist goes slightly wrong when kyungsoo finds the ring instead of the plaque in jongin's desk. he has to pretend that he doesn't know anything but the thing is—he sucks at lying.

#14. The clumsiest soulmate.

Genre: Soulmate au, fluff Length: 2,420w Rating: G Summary: Since he was a kid, Kyungsoo believed his soulmate was bullied from how many times he wake up with bruises all over his body. Little he knew it was far from that.

#15. The cute little bear

Genre: Hybrid au, domestic fluff Length: 3,966w Rating: G Summary: Kyungsoo woke up on the sound of loud sobs and found a cute bear hybrid, curled in his backyard, who he didn't hesitate to take care of and love beyond limits.

#16. Joys of Fate

Genre: Abo au, mates, strangers to lovers Length: 8,294w Rating: NC-17 Summary: Kim JongIn had never left anything made him feel like he wasn’t capable of leading his father's legacy, not his second gender, not those nasty and traditional alphas that worked with him. He was ready to face everything that was thrown at him. Even his destined alpha being his new secretary, Do KyungSoo.

#17. Hero In

Genre: Stalking, broken relationships Length: 7,792w Rating: NC-17 Summary: Little did he know, a mysterious man watches him every night, the same man he broke his heart months ago.

#18. Raggedy Man

Genre: Science-fiction, Doctor Who au(?), time travel Length: 25,015w Rating: G Summary: Kyungsoo just wanted a date. What he got was an adventure of a lifetime!

#19:  Bloom (피어나)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Alternate Universe - Historical Length: 11,179 w Rating: R Summary: Everyone thinks Jongin was kidnapped by Kyungsoo, the god of death, but the man always visited him while he rested surrounded by flowers and talked to him, never forced him to do anything, sometimes he simply stared for hours on end, always with a kind smile on his gorgeous lips, until he had to go back to the underworld. Jongin wasn't kidnapped, not really. He fell into the underworld because he fell in love.