#Don't know how old she's meant to be here and may do another attempt at a later date

[108garys]

Anya Keenan

On one of my scribble pages I scrawled an attempt at Erin's mother, brain feels like a colander otherwise

[luveline]

For the zombie Steve au would you ever consider writing a blurb from before the college when Steve realizes he likes reader?

for you, my love!! steve zombie au —steve realises he likes you romantically, fem!reader

You're singing under your breath. Steve has it on record that he thinks you're a bad singer, but you don't sound half bad. Low, dulcet, you're singing an old song everybody knows. 

"Somewhere, beyond the sea, she's there waiting for me." You don't bother with the next line, interested more in the sock you're attempting to darn, the needle in your hand clumsy but well-meant. "Oh, ouch." 

"Prick yourself?" 

"I'm sorry?" you joke, laughing without answering his question. "I don't think that's any of your business, Harrington."

He grins at your saccharine, bubbly voice, enthused with laughter and unhurried. For once, you're not scared or anxious. The simple task of a repetitive action has distracted you from the reality of the world, and you're still being nice to him regardless. Steve's starting to think that, despite his bad moods and ill temper, you might like him. Or, starting to know it with surety. 

He figured when your shyness getting changed didn't ever quite abate, when you started snuggling into his waist at night, when one day you began complimenting him for things beyond survival skills —your hair is such a nice brown, Stevie— when you started calling him fucking Stevie, that you must harbour sweet feelings for him. He figured, and yet he had no idea how to feel about it. 

Steve started to confuse his feelings for yours, and vice versa. Wondering if maybe he was being nicer to you than he needed to be because he knew that was what you wanted. But he's sitting here now, cross-legged beside you on a double bed with no sheets in an abandoned house that's completely sealed from the inside out, no survival instincts, no ulterior motives, and he knows he likes you. That he might start to love you, if he has the time. 

He thinks about kissing you. 

"Do you need a bandaid?" he asks genuinely. 

"For this?" you ask, showing him your finger and the pinprick bead of blood that's blossomed there. You lick it clean. "No, thank you." 

"Alright. Want me to finish your sock?" 

"No, that's okay." You give him a suspicious look. "Why?" 

"What do you mean, why?" 

"Why would I want you to finish my sock?" you ask.

"Uh, 'cos you just hurt yourself? I'm trying to be nice." 

"Ooh, it suits you," you say, rolling your eyes. 

He reaches over to pinch your side. You jump, startled by his touch and surprised by his wanting to touch you, he can see it on your face. He really should be kinder to you. You don't do anything wrong, you're not mean, you're not even a liability or anything so strict. You're just a girl —you're more than a girl. You're the best friend he has right now, and you look out for him in more than necessities. 

"Who do you think you are?" he asks, giving you another jab. 

You laugh and squirm away from him. "I think I'm someone with a needle in their hand, ready to stab you," you say. 

"Really, you'd stab me? You're heartless. And here I thought you liked me." 

"I do like you," you say, tucking the needle you'd been waving at him behind a few threads of floss in the bobbin. 

"I like you too," he says. As soon as he says it, he knows it's true. You may not understand the depth of his words, but Steve does, and he can't shake the feeling that you need a reward. For being so likeable. For liking him first. "Give me your sock, I can darn better than you can." 

"You've had more practice," you explain away, though you do pass him your sock.

"Are you going to finish the song?" he asks. 

You glare. "Thought I sounded like a dying cat?" 

"You'll never let that go, will you?" 

"No, not likely." 

You laugh again, and this time Steve joins in. He retrieves the needle and sets about fixing the mistakes you'd made, hiding a smile as you lay down by his thigh, your hand curled up by his foot, and start to sing. "You have to join in," you say ugrnelty between lines. 

Steve joins in. Not worried about sounding good, not worried about anything, the two of you making up the words you forgot, out of tune but far from out of time. 

[n1ghtfurys]

Climbing frame

You have four girls, almost five. The twins, Tiana and Beau, your middle baby, Aubrey and Charlie who's almost one.

This may be your worst pregnancy. It's been worse than the twins, and god they were hell. Your back hurts, your feet hurt and everything is making you emotional. König is on deployment, he's not meant to be back until your due date. Which is fine but you miss him and four girls is a lot.

You've decided to take them to the park mostly because you're tired and könig hasn't had the time to respond to any of your calls or messages.

The quiet is nice though, quiet is a loose term for this but it's still nice. Charlie is asleep on your lap, Beau is upside down on the monkey bars and Tiana is making flower crowns out of daisies with Aubrey. You look down at your bump, wishing König was here, wishing he could see how sweet his girls are, sit with you and just be generally near you. You know they all miss him, he hasn't been on a long mission like this one since the twins were born but apparently they couldn't spare him this time.

Tiana and Beau are old enough to understand why he's gone but it still goes over Aubrey's head so she asks about him often which is less than fun. You watch as Tiana places two small flower crowns over her little sister's space buns, she's a great older sister both twins were really. You watch Aubrey pick through the pile of daisies before running up to you with the biggest grin on her little face.

“Mummy, look!” you smile as she spins in attempts to show you the whole flower crowns her sister had made for her. Then she holds out one of the daisies from her pile and slides it behind your ear before giggling and running off again.

“Thanks bean.” You call after her and try not to cry over how cute your girls are. You hear her squeal as she tries to put a flower in Beau's hair, you can't help but smile as you watch Aubrey being chased around the playground. You look back down at Charlie, who's still fast asleep on your lap. You can't believe how lucky you are, four soon to be five perfect girls.

After Charlie you remember asking König if he was upset that he didn't get a boy, you remembered the same conversation after Aubrey too and both times he assured you of the exact opposite. He really does make a great dad, you know he's probably wishing he were back too.

You don't notice when your kids go quiet, not until one of them screams ‘daddy’ and all three barrel past you, even Charlie stirs at the commotion. You spin round to find Aubrey already wrapped around his leg and one twin in each arm.

You watch the love of your life juggle all three kids with the biggest grin on his face. He must have stopped by the house because he's not in his mask or tactical gear.

You fail to hide how you tear up as he walks, more waddles because of the girl still clinging to his legs. He puts both girls down next to him and leans down to kiss you, the action is accompanied by a chorus of ‘ews’ from the girls.

“Beans, why don't you go and grab some flowers for another crown hm? Take Charlie with you.”

He sits down next to you and you lean against him, watching Tiana and Beau walking with Charlie while Aubrey runs laps around them.

“I thought you weren't coming back yet.” you rub your hand back and forth over the arm he's wrapped around your waist.

“Finished early, wanted to surprise you schatz.” His accent is always thicker when he gets back from missions, Kortac usually means he speaks in German most of the time so whenever he gets back his voice tends to make your cheeks warm.

“How's number five doing?” He brushes his thumb over your bump as he speaks, you sigh. You want to tell him that number five is doing fine because she is but she has been a hellish pregnancy. You get morning sickness, at least you did for a good chunk of carrying. She makes you more tired and has a whole lot of opinions about what you eat, plus having to juggle four other kids has made everything hurt.

“She's doing okay but I'm tired, glad you're back.” He kisses the top of your head and watches as the twins walk Charlie back over, Aubrey's still running circles around them and Beau has a flower crown in her spare hand.

He kisses your head once more and then gets up to greet them. He sweeps Charlie up into his arms before kneeling down so Beau, who still has to get on her tiptoes to reach, could put the flower crown on his head.

While he's still on his knees Tiana whispers something to him and then all three girls scatter. You tilt your head in confusion but he just smiles and mouths ‘sea monster’ to you.

It's a game that Beau made up when she was five, they make a home island and then have to run around without getting caught.

You let yourself doze as you watch them, smiling as the squeals of joy when he flips Tiana upside down when he catches her, he even manages to include Charlie even if he has to put her down every time he catches one of them.

When König comes back he places Charlie in your lap, he's got one twin on each arm and Aubrey on his shoulders.

Once you get home and start dinner your house is filled with laughter from all four kids, and König occasionally.

“Beans!” You shout from the kitchen when you finish dinner but you get no reply so you follow the sound of your girls. Eventually you find them in the playroom; König has Aubrey swinging off of one arm, Charlie is giggling in one of his hands, Beau is hanging upside down from his shoulders while Tiana is wrapped around his leg.

You can't help but smile at the sight of him juggling four girls, they all have smiles plastered on their faces. Your girls are laughing and just generally being loud, and König is in his element. It makes you glad that you're carrying another, and that he'll be here now. At least for a while.

[ghiblinsm]

I C One Female

Vanessa Carlysle x stepdaughter! Reader (PLATONIC)

in-between the events of the first movie and second movie

Summary: An after-mission conversations in which you reveal sorrowed feelings to Vanessa.

"I remember one certain conversation I had with my dad's ex girlfriend...."

You sit on the edge of the balcony with your legs dangling between the bars. Busy fidgeting with a yoyo to realize that Vanessa had stepped out and is standing right behind you.

"Hey....chilly tonight, huh?" A crow above the roof had flown away as you look over your shoulder towards the shivering Vanessa, who is wearing your dumb dad's jacket over a tank top with pants, then back to the yoyo.

"I guess. What're you doing......out here" Vanessa quickly notices the missing tone of cheerfulness that had been replaced with tired one. Most likely from having to spend the day helping your dumb father with all kinds of mission. She saw how he had passed out once he flopped onto the couch cushions, you just walked out onto the balcony however...

Instead of answering back, Vanessa sits down criss cross next to you on the cold cement. "How are you holding up?"

You simply shrug and shuffle a bit to the side with the awkward silence thick between the two of you. The yoyo going up and down over the edge of the balcony.

Right before Vanessa decides to chalk this up to another failed attempt of trying to talk to you, you start to rant, "I feel like he's starting to only view me as his 'sidekick' instead of his daughter. like he's trying to forget or justify what happens on these missions, what happened on......ugh..."

you thump your head against the bars while playing with the yoyo still, Vanessa eventually speaks up while looking off the balcony. "You know he means well...right?"

"Yeah, I mean. I know but I don't always know, y'know? like, the tiny voices in my head tell me that I'm nothing but some tool, a burden, that I can't be my own person.... I know it's not true but..." you move your legs out from between the bars and up towards your chest with your chin resting on your knees.

"But you can't help feeling that way?" vanessa finishes exactly what you had been thinking with a sigh. "I get what you mean...hey, um. crazy thought but, have you.... tried telling him how you feel?" she looks over at you while wrapping her arms around herself.

"No? yes?... I don't know, i mean I've tried to bring up what happened but every time he just brushes it off with some dumb reference or drags me with him to a dumb job." vanessa looks at you with a common look you've grown to hate, pity sympathy.

"He might not have realized how much pressure he puts on you...not justifying his actions or anything!" she panics at how her words may have sounded and puts her hands up slightly in a defensive way.

You look back over the balcony and keep playing with the yoyo, "I know what you meant."

The awkward silence returns even thicker than before, and Vanessa looks away while standing up, realizing that the conversation between the two of you is over because of her choice of words. As she turns to head back inside in the warm building you add a few words that she never thought she'd hear from a 13-year-old.

"I do love you by the way, as much as I can love someone, which is never enough. Just know if I'm ever rude or seem like I'm pushing you away, it's not personal nor your fault. I'm just like that sometimes."

She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding and nods in understanding, despite you turned away from her, she heads inside to move Wade off the couch.

She never brought it up but as she was closing the door behind her, she heard you mutter something that she almost missed.

"I'm so tired of his..."

[frenchtantan]

I'm not done talking about q!Baghera. Today I wanna touch on something her mind seems to tune out for her own protection: the Federation's cruelty. Now buckle up folks, given how dark her story is, this is gonna get heavy.

When she first discovered her old room, in her little diary, her past self had written the following: "they made me do things, and I couldn't stop until they were satisfied. They are never satisfied. They just want to make me miserable. They keep plucking my feathers for... a dumb reason."

This is cruel. This is child abuse, and this is torture The entire Federation would deserve to be burnt to the ground ten times over if they did this once. They did this to her every single day.

However, here's the thing: the way child q!Baghera phrases it, it almost looked like the torture was in response to her not behaving like they wanted her to. As if this unjustified abuse was somehow a punishment, something that could be somewhat avoided by her doing things differently.

We may now have an inkling that was not the case. In the "RESULTS: BAGHERA" book that she burned yesterday, we could read the following: "PREVIOUS BEHAVIORAL REPORTS DESCRIBED BAGHERA ENTERING SIMILAR UNRESPONSIVE STATES WHEN EXPOSED TO INTENSE STRESS OR HIGHLY UNPLEASANT STIMULI. HOWEVER DEPENDING ON THE CAUSE OF SAID STRESS IT MAY HAVE BEEN PRECEDED BY ATTEMPTS OF BITING HER CARETAKERS AND OTHER FEDERATION STAFF, WITH OTHER HELPLESS ATTEMPTS AT ESCAPE"

Now I don't know about you, but the way I read this, it means the torture was never a punishment. It was the experiment itself. They were deliberately, or at least knowingly, putting her in situations that could trigger her unresponsive state. How messed up is that?

This is the extend of their cruelty: they created a sentient child, but they never raised her, they never cared for her, they never tried to make her better. She was just an experiment among possibly hundreds of others. An object to poke and prod at to see how it would react. Even knowing this is roleplay, I can't think about this without getting sick to my stomach.

This is where she now knows she comes from. Where any normal child had a family's love and care, she had only the Federation's cruelty. Is it any wonder then that q!Baghera refuses to even acknowledge the torture? That her mind put walls around walls around walls to protect her from that horrific reality? That yesterday she was grasping at straws, hoping that the Federation was not as bad as she thought, in denial about what she suffered at their hands?

I am conflicted about what her burning the book meant, because she also burned all the photos. At first I thought this was just another wall, but I'm not so sure. Her room was not a bad memory, it contained everything she liked. She also didn't burn her diary. Also, she didn't look distressed, she looked angry. Her first thought went to Pomme, her daughter and therefore her family, and then came her ironic realization about the islanders building their own little prisons while trying to escape.

I believe right now she is very hopeless, and she has a lot of trauma to face in the coming days. However, the more I think of it, the more it seems yesterday's ending was not her giving up, but a spark awakening, however small. And maybe, just maybe, that spark is enough to start chipping at the walls. Time will tell.

[alymccart]

Ask du jour because I’m in a lot of feelings right now and need a diversion from them and because I stayed home for a mental health day and have time to ask: Back to First Time, I feel like there’s a whole analysis or chapter behind Charlie’s words to Vaggie about their connection.

“It's been a long time. And I... uhh, I've never had this kind of connection with anyone before. This is... more intense than I was expecting.”

I’d love to get into this more because here’s Charlie, who is this being that shouldn’t even exist- or it’s unimaginable that she exists- and is astronomically powerful and probably as wise as time and space due to her connection with the cosmos (even though the show never talks about that but it has to be true? Maybe? I’m overthinking? I mean, I can’t imagine one could live as long as Charlie has and not have some wisdom). And Vaggie’s just a dead woman, right? Just a dead human woman (who I fucking love so much, this isn’t a criticism). So for Charlie to feel a connection with someone so much “less” than herself and for it to shake her enough during intimacy, Vaggie must be powerful herself. Maybe not in the same way as Charlie, but damn. She must have some kind of soulmate-level power over Charlie. Like they’re written in the stars and, in this one instance, Charlie is meant to be completely powerless.

Makes me wonder, as I am wont to do, how Vaggie’s story will evolve both in your fic and in canon.

Anyway, I think that’s enough word vomit for today. But also thank you? You don’t know it but writing these thoughts helped quiet a small feelings storm in my head.

TT^TT Another fantastic ask.

I really REALLY do feel like there's more to Vaggie than the show has shown us so far, which is why I'm attempting to kinda-sorta foreshadow that in my fics. I have no actual idea what exactly that "more" is, and I may end up being way off base, but I want to believe. Although the alt version of their first time that's going to be in Hellfire goes a slightly different direction, the same general scenario still plays out.

I definitely agree with your assessment about Charlie's power. She's the daughter of the first demon in hell and a very powerful angel (in my fic I'm going to with Lucifer being a seraph, though that isn't confirmed as far as I know), so there has GOT to be more to her than what we have seen. I'm going to bet there's some angel qualities that'll crop up as the story progresses (maybe she'll get wings!?). I also feel like Charlie is treated like a child in the show way, way too much. Until it's confirmed in the show, we don't really know for sure that she's over 200 years old, but going on that assumption, there is absolutely no way she's as naive as people seem to think she is. Sheltered? Maybe a bit, but she's a busybody, so there's no way she spent all of her life cooped up in a palace or something. So, my fic/headcanon Charlie has been around. She wants to help, she wants to be involved, she wants to experience things; she wants to make Hell a better place and to do that she needs to learn everything she can about it. Considering the fact that she's a one-of-a-kind royal hellborn demon and more-or-less impervious to permanent/killing damage from just about anything around her (save for strong angels like Adam and angelic steel weapons, and Carmilla is not stupid enough to sell them to someone who wanted to hurt Charlie because Lucifer would shred her to pieces) there's not much reason for her to be overly cautious.

"Soulmate-level power" is one way to put it. I really feel like Charlie and Vaggie's connection was at least catalyzed in their mutual desire to see this whole "redemption" thing through. For Charlie, it's to help her people. For Vaggie, it's partly to prove that she herself is worthy of redemption and partly to help end the cycle of death altogether. Murdering all of those Sinner souls and only questioning it after thousands had died, then thinking she had done the Right Thing and immediately being mutilated and abandoned by people she trusted as a result really effed her up, imo, and she's obsessive about making up for it. I think after that initial spark, Charlie sees someone she can truly believe is her equal, if not in power, but spiritually, so she is willing to let her guard down. She's comfortable showing that side of herself to Vaggie, and Vaggie is comfortable with that side of Charlie, so, in the context of First Time, it ends up being harder for her to hold back (and maybe a bit of unconscious "I don't want to hold back" that she has to fight for fear of hurting someone she believes is a squishy Sinner demon).

I'll see how things play out as the fic progresses. I've got a general direction set, but things like to crop up and throw me off course as I write (which I love, tbh). Thank you for the thoughts! Getting to really mull this stuff over out loud is really helpful. :>

[ikamigami]

What gets me is that both Sun and Earth acknowledge how kind New Moon and they used to be, that he and Earth were super close to the point of sharing their deepest thoughts with one another, Sun had said to New Moon "I liked you more than the old you", it wasn't about New Moon being smarter or stronger than Old Moon, that didn't matter to Earth or Sun, they were okay if New Moon couldn't bring back Solar, they were okay with New Moon 'not measuring up to the old him', even now New Moon is their brother, not in a transactional way but in a real, close way, he a really good brother and just a kind person even when he got angry or messy! That's it too, New Moon could get angry or reckless before, that isn't the problem here, the problem was he decided to "snap", and its one thing to be really messy with grief and say some not great things, this episode made it clear the insults weren't the big problem, though I should also point out that if you start lashing out to hurt people on purpose, cutting ties with them like that, then why would you not expect consequences? And it's not like Sun and Earth disowned him, they didn't, but their trust in him was broken by what he said, because he went beyond insults and instead chose what he knew hurt them both the most and meant it, you don't get to do that, betray someone like that, and then walk away expecting your relationship with someone to be exactly the same, not without working to fix it, which he hasn't so far But either way the big problem was New Moon going further than Old Moon in the sense of actually attempting to kill a family member willingly, Old Moon was terrible, but the closest he ever got to murdering one of his siblings on purpose was punching Sun in the face or verbally threatening to "unplug him", which was still very messed up mind you but New Moon took it several steps further, it wasn't an accident like "oh I didn't know you were in here", or a "I am doing this but I will give you time to get out", he told her he doesn't care about her right before doing it and would've killed her if the blast wasn't stopped and everybody knows that and is not okay with it, rightfully so, grief is not a justification to attempt to willingly murder innocent people, especially ones own family who you claimed to love so much, I do not could Ruin or Bloodmoon because they aren't innocent, if it was just them in the room there wouldn't be a problem here, and if New Moon did that because "he feels they disowned him", they made it clear they didn't, I don't even think New Moon in his moments of reflection he actually said "they abandoned me", and isn't it just as bad that you betray someone close to you and they express they are hurt and that your relationship will be different going forwards, but they're still there, and your response is effectively "welp I don't care if you die now, get out of my way"? And even then both of them are still conflicted, Earth is still very angry but as she said she still can't fully just cut ties, and Sun is even more hesitant, and yeah, them going "Forgiving them depends on if the apology was actually sincere" and even then if they didn't forgive him for going that far that would be valid considering the severity, if it is revealed there was a corrupting influence that would help New Moon's case, but he still made bad choices he needs to answer for, even a part of his conscience knew it was all wrong but he chose to do it anyway

100% true! All of this! Everything you said is exactly true and right!

They still care and can't fully stop caring about New Moon. But they have every right to feel betrayed and hurt and to not want to forgive him. But like you said they are thinking about the option of forgiving him because they loved him and I think that they still do cause emotions are a funny thing which is hard to control and even if they may say "we don't care about him and we don't love him anymore". That love and care is still there in their hearts. And this is also why it hurts so much. This is why New Moon's betrayal hurts so much.

And you're right that virus or not New Moon still has to be hold accountable for his actions and he needs to show regret and apologize and even maybe he should do something to show that he means that. And also like you said Sun and Earth saw New Moon as brother. Sun liked New Moon more than Old Moon as his brother. They don't care if his smarter if he can do and fix everything. Like you said they don't care about it. I agree with everything you said here, dear anon.

Thank you for this long message because you addressed everything, every little and important detail and I think that it's very needed for everyone in this fandom to see. Thank you ^^

[nitewrighter]

Since the new John Wick movie is coming out could we have a continuation of the Gency Assassin AU? *Slides a homemade loaf of wholemeal bread over as an offering*

...And there were TWO BEDS.

Previous Chapters: 1, 2

---

It wasn't clear how old the Hanamura Continental was, exactly. The exterior architecture certainly took notes from the Meiji Era, but the interior seemed to be a carefully constructed time warp through several different centuries. The front entrance had all the grace and theatrics and classically familiar elements of entering a grand Edo period fantasy, though now vaunted to spectacle with higher ceilings and a near cathedral-like path to the main desk, the desk itself had those same Meiji sensibilities as the exterior of the hotel, with the concierge backlit by a glowing yellow screen. Beyond that the lounge hurled itself into the 20th century excess, and beyond that, Genji knew, there was a courtyard that cultivated many of the traditional Japanese gardening techniques and turned them into a twisting labyrinth of geometric futurism, which spiraled off into three buildings that made up the continental's main bodies of suites.

Despite all the grandeur, or perhaps because of all the grandeur, Genji felt more than a bit embarrassed at bringing Mercy through its doors. Here she was working in that cramped little office in a grim heap of brick of a building, thanklessly patching up assassins and enforcers and killers who all languished in the luxurious leather chairs of these hotels. She showed no reaction to the rich dark wood, to the scent of Yamazaki whisky on the air, save for the same hard mask she had assumed since arriving in Hanamura. She had barely slept on the flight, her head lolling forward, or onto his shoulder for a few minutes at a time before rousing herself with a short sharp intake of breath. She was used to blood—she was born into this life, same as him, even if she served it from the margins---but excommunicado was another thing entirely. She clearly resented the fact that she was only being used as a tool, the same as all those damnable gold coins, to pull him back into whatever politick the High Table was pulling, and he probably would have been more insulted on her behalf as well if he wasn't currently dreading the eyes of every hotel guest on them as they walked through the lobby.

They both approached the concierge's desk and a woman with her black hair in a tight bun glanced up at Genji from behind delicate gold-wireframe glasses. Her eyes flicked up at him, first with a familiar, yet diplomatic warmth, then they sharply flicked to Mercy, then darted right back to him with a clear 'Are you sure this is wise' skepticism that, given her stoicism, read very clearly as 'This is the dumbest thing you could possibly do and when your actions get us all killed please know that I will haunt you in this life and the next.'

"Welcome to the Hanamura Continental, Mr. Shimada," she said, splaying her hands gracefully on the desk in front of her.

"It's good to see you again, Asa, you look well," said Genji.

Her jaw only tightened as her lips pressed together in a not-really smile. "I'm afraid your... companion does not have the same membership plan with us as you do," she said.

"But at the very least, no business can be conducted on hotel grounds, is that true?" Genji asked.

"You are correct," said Asa.

"Well, seeing as that's settled, I would like to speak to management," said Genji.

Her gaze seemed to sharpen even more, but her mouth quirked slightly at the audacity of the request.

"I see," said Asa, "It has been quite some time, hasn't it?"

"And if you don't have family, what do you have?" Genji threw the words out in what was a clear attempt to diffuse the situation but he may as well have thrown them at a wall.

"I'll see if he's available," she said, picking up the phone at the desk.

She turned her shoulder to him, covered her mouth in a gesture that seemed demure but was clearly meant to keep him from reading her lips, and spoke inaudibly into the phone. Genji wasn't even sure if she was speaking loudly enough for the sound to even go through.

Mercy touched his arm and he started slightly. She gave a glance over her shoulder at a woman and two men in suits at a small coffee table across the lobby. The woman was slouched on a couch, whisky gripped at the rim of the glass, clawlike in perfect red manicured nails that matched perfect red lipstick. Her white hair stood out starkly in the low warm lights of the hotel. Genji had more or less shrugged off how much everyone was staring at him since he didn't want Asa to smell the fear on him, but he picked up immediately on what Mercy was indicating--those suits indicated higher rollers. Her bounty was going up, enough to attract the attention of those who held out for bigger challenges and bigger prizes.

"If you'll follow me, sir," Asa spoke up and Genji glanced back at her immediately. She moved out from behind the desk.

"She comes too," said Genji, indicating Mercy with a hand.

Asa gave him a side-eye that seemed capable of reducing a man to nothing but a smoldering pile of cinders, but he met her gaze with a completely straight face, not stony or emotionless, but level, unrelenting. It frightened Mercy, not knowing what he was capable of, because she certainly knew that, but being reminded of just how vulnerable he permitted himself to be with her.

"...fine," Asa said crisply, before turning her shoulder and beginning to walk.

They crossed through the lounge, Mercy keeping her eyes straight forward and ignoring the sensation of being in a forest at night where you can feel eyes peering out at you from all the dark between trees. They walked out into the cold night air of the courtyard, then took a path that wound into the largest of the three builidngs. From here, they entered an elevator, and Asa drew a keycard from an interior pocket of her jacket and entered it into a card slot below the elevator buttons. The elevator doors closed and the elevator rose, steadily.

Asa gave a glance over her shoulder to Mercy.

"...I don't doubt your being declared excommunicado was unjust," she said, turning away from Mercy, "But you understand, we have our own people to protect. Our own standards to uphold."

"I understand," Mercy said.

"How far are you willing to take this?" Asa kept her eyes fixed on the elevator doors.

Genji opened his mouth.

"Not you," said Asa, "Her. How far is she willing to take this?"

"As far as it takes to get him free again," Mercy said.

To her credit, Asa didn't turn around for another one of her withering looks, but her shoulders visibly stiffened. "You're taking the long way, then," she said, as the elevator doors opened. She gestured through the doors and they exited out, back out into the cool night air, into a rooftop garden.

A man with his graying hair tied half-back and a neatly trimmed beard sat languidly in a low-backed chair. He regarded them not with the contempt Asa had, but rather a steady exhaustion. Asa took her place just behind him at his right hand, her hands clasped together in front of herself primly.

"Brother," said Hanzo.

"We'd like to thank you for your hospitality," Genji bowed and Mercy quickly followed the gesture.

"You realize by bringing her here, you could render the hotel, and by extension, everything our father built, condemned," Hanzo said, not even looking at Mercy.

Everything that the High Table didn't take from him already, Genji thought, but held his tongue. "I am aware. Which is why I humbly request your support in opening a dialogue with the High Table on Angela's behalf."

Asa couldn't resist a short at this, but Hanzo remained unfazed.

"You got out," he said, his eyes not breaking from Genji's.

"I did," said Genji.

"And did it occur to you that this is precisely the course of action to make you play right into their hands? To not only bring you back into this life, but make you completely beholden to them because of the threat of consequences of your current actions?"

"That's what I said," Mercy huffed and Hanzo finally glanced toward her.

"And am I to believe you have done nothing to warrant the High Table's attention?"

Mercy's lips thinned as she stared Hanzo down.

"I'm a doctor," her voice was steady, "I'm beholden to more than just a bunch of Marquises throwing gold coins around."

Genji perked up at this and his head swung over at Angela.

"...so you have been flouting their authority," Hanzo's eyes narrowed.

"I wouldn't call saving lives flouting authority."

"It is when our business is lives. Our currency is lives."

Mercy leaned forward, putting both her hands on the table between them. "Respectfully speaking, manager, I operated with as much discretion and flexibility as anyone in our business operates with. We both know that this isn't about me, so I hardly see the point in needling me about whose arterial bleeding I stitched up in the minutes before a contract went into effect, or whoever the Bratva put on my operating table and told me not to ask questions."

Hanzo's jaw visibly tightened and he looked past her to look at Genji. Genji's posture had visibly tensed to rail-stiffness behind her, eyes wide and face pale, before that short look from Hanzo prompted him to furrow his brow and fold his arms in an attempt to assume a more confident position in support of Mercy. He looked back at Mercy. She drew herself upright from the table, but a cold steadiness in her gaze told him that this was a matter of dignity and how much the High Table could take from a person just as much as it was a matter of life and death.

"Genji," he said, his eyes not focused on either of them, "Pursuing this not only means undoing all of your efforts to leave this life, it could mean losing everything. Things aren't fair here. Things have never been fair here. People like her die all the time as the High Table moves its pieces around. Knowing that, are you still willing to go forward?"

Genji looked at Mercy then. She didn't meet his eyes at first, but he stared long enough for her to finally turn her head to him. There was no pleading in her gaze, but there was a pinching at her mouth--regret for him? Regret at being the one thing that could drag him back into all this?

"I am," he replied.

Hanzo exhaled a long breath. "I'll be making a call, then. I suggest you both get some rest, while you can."

"Is my penthouse here still--?" Genji started.

"Don't push me," said Hanzo.

-----

"...they reopened," Genji said awkwardly, a towel around his waist. Blood ran pink with the shower water on his skin. It was one of the smaller wounds at his ribs. Mercy glanced up from a slip of paper, wet hair hanging limply around her face. The paper lamp beside her cast her in a yellow-ivory light. She was in a dark blue yukata herself--the hotel room came stocked with two. The standard hotel room. With two beds.

"Ach--" Mercy stood up and stepped over, bending to look at it, "Only you can fight your way through a subway with those stitches only for them to finally give up un a shower."

"What can I say? I'm lucky."

"Still, it's a lot better than before," she murmured, "I'll pull out the broken stitches, from there, just some gauze and tape should work."

She dug through her bag and Genji sat on the edge of the bed.

"The room service prices here are obscene, by the way," said Mercy, as Genji picked up the slip of paper she had been looking at. A menu.

"I'd say the yuzu crab is worth it. Besides, It's not like most of the guests here really pay for the services, anyway."

"...they pay for room service with lives?" Mercy glanced up from her bag.

Genji felt his ears burning. "No, just.. there are perks with seniority."

Which is bought with lives, he thought, but just awkwardly sat there, watching the pink down his side now slowly stain into his towel.

"Plus, there's a continental breakfast," he added with a dumb grin.

Mercy glanced up from her bag to give him an exhausted look.

"Too soon. Right." Genji clasped his hands together in his lap.

The bed squeaked slightly as she sat down next to him, pliers in hand and gauze and tape in the other. "Arm," she said, and he lifted his arm and drew in a sharp breath on the side with the reopened wound.

"...he shouldn't have talked about you like that," said Genji.

"I've learned to be careful about which things I take personally," said Mercy.

"I think you managed to scare him a little--ah!" Genji gritted his teeth as she pulled out a broken stitch.

"How much did he help you in getting out?" asked Mercy.

"Actually not that much. His being the manager of the Continental is more of a product of the High Table eating our family's empire than anything."

"Oh, there's an empire now," Mercy's eyebrows raised.

"There was an empire--ow!" Genji winced again as she pulled out another broken stitch, "But things caught up with us. Triad. Bratva. You know how it is."

"I do," said Mercy.

A pause passed between them, only punctuated by a short grunt from Genji as she pulled out the last broken stitch.

"Are you hungry?" Genji asked, glancing at the menu, as she was laying gauze over the wound.

"Not really. I probably should be, at this point, but..." she shrugged as she taped it down.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each trying to gauge a lonely yet utterly blank and exhausted face.

"We make it out of this alive, I'm getting you the yuzu crab here," said Genji.

"We make it out of this alive, we'll find yuzu crab somewhere else," said Mercy.

Genji blinked and then smiled. "Right..."

She cleared her throat. "We should get some rest," she said, then stood up to go to the bathroom to wash her hands.

"Yes--" said Genji, before adding, "Thank you, for the--" he gestured at the gauze.

"It's probably bad that I don't even think about it anymore, huh?" said Mercy, with a slight smile.

"Probably," admitted Genji.

---

The room was dark.

Genji had his sheets pulled up to his chin.

He watched the shape of Mercy under the blankets of the other bed, steadily rising and falling with her breath. Her back was to him, her head just a faintly moonlit burst of silvery blonde. The arm's length gap between the beds seemed an unfathomable chasm. He hadn't even brought up the subject, and why would he? Two beds basically eliminated discussion altogether. They had slept together before, certainly, and it occurred to Genji that he had never really kept track of how many times they had done that. It was remarkable the sort of things this life trained you to keep track of and not keep track of. Genji had no idea how many he had killed for the High Table, but he could tell how many times he had fired a gun and how many shots he had left at any given time, regardless of the adrenaline rushing through his system. He felt a bit foolish dwelling on the thought--they had enough to worry about--Hanzo opening a dialogue with the High Table wasn't going to solve their problems, in all likelihood they were playing right into the High Table's hands, the fact that they had broken so many rules just to survive all this and come here would likely shackle them to this life forever and--and--

Genji stared at the ceiling. Exhaustion should be overtaking him. He knew this, his body knew this. Maybe it was the tension of being in Hanamura itself, the tension of being utterly dependent on Hanzo in this moment. He heard a creak and glanced up sharply to see Mercy sitting up in her own bed, sliding across the mattress, sitting on the edge, bare legs in the moonlight. He said nothing, but propped himself up on his elbows, staring at her. His bed creaked as Mercy slid under his comforter silently, nestling herself in the crook of his arm.

"I'm scared," was all she said, her own arm slowly snaking across his chest, careful of his injuries.

"Me too," he said quietly, adjusting his arm around her and leaning his cheek on her forehead.

But all the same he was able to close his eyes, now.

[lifeinahole27]

I promise I'm alive

Eventually, I'm gonna sit down and write out where I've been for the last six months. I owe a huge apology to @grimmswan for never finishing her Christmas fic, first and foremost. And mostly I just wanted to let everyone know I'm still around. Here's the Sparknotes:

Last June, I got passed over for a promotion to AGM at the hotel I was working at. I was promoted instead to "Front Office Manager" and finally got to move to a daytime schedule after we found a new auditor to replace me.

On September 1, I had to fire my first employee ever - that same auditor that I was so excited to replace me - and so that was a fun experience. It meant that I was back to splitting audit duties with the other guy.

We tried to get one of the other desk agents to learn audit. The first attempt did not go well. He was supposed to cover during the weekend of my brother's wedding when I was off work and I genuinely don't remember how we worked the schedule for that now, but I know it was tenuous for a minute.

That same guy that didn't do well on the audit quit via text message the week of Thanksgiving, when the General Manager was on vacation, essentially fucking the rest of us for the rest of the week. He was my best friend at the job. I have not spoken to him since.

At Christmastime, the AGM essentially yelled at me as if I was a child for correcting her on something that she was doing improperly. Her mindset was that she had been working (at another property) for 15 years so she knew how to do her job and there's more than 1 way to do something and I needed to accept that. (Fun sidenote: I had been at that property for almost 4 years and she was doing something wrong. That's the fun thing about different properties. What works at one may not work the same at another.)

After that incident, I was job hunting. I finally got to go to a Christmas luncheon at this hotel (I was always working audit in the years before, so I had never gone before) but I was so miserable the entire time I was there but did a great job acting.

I was forced to work until 12:30am on NYE because my manager was convinced it was going to be a busy day. As I had worked NYE twice before and J had worked it once, we knew it was not going to be busy enough for two people. But still I was forced to work the one day I hate working (thanks to SA memories) and that was the final straw for me.

On January 4, I got a call from the company I had applied to at the recommendation of one of my previous GMs from my old hotel. A few days later, I did a pre-interview/info session with the Talent Manager. Two days after that, I did my interview with a group of managers. And on January 10, I handed in my notice to the hotel.

January 30, I left the hotel at 7:15am, no longer employed by it.

On February 6, I flew out to Denver and spent a week with a BFF I made in the CS community. We had a writers' retreat while I housesat for my sister while she was on vacation. I flew home on February 13 and got my company issued computers set up.

I started the new employment on February 14. My entire upstairs is almost completely renovated after three months of working on it after 7 years of depression. I have quit smoking. I am slowly getting my writing mojo back. My GP and therapist are both astonished at how happy I am.

In the months since I left, I have fully realized that I was essentially being abused at my last job. I was just so driven by my goals there that I was willing to excuse all of the bullshit in hopes of making it in my career. I asked for my vacation time a couple months ago and no one guilt-tripped me because I'm going on vacation in June. I told them I would be happy to take my laptop and work while I'm there and they told me to not even think about it. To go have fun and enjoy my vacation.

I don't know what all of this means for my CS writing. I don't know if that will come back. I would like to. I would love to finish some projects that are half-written. I would love to do another year of cards and finish that not-so-secret santa fic for @grimmswan. I just have to be a little more patient with myself and see what happens.

Okay, that wasn't as short as I expected it to be, because I guess it was a lot. Anyway, hi everyone. This is the happiest I've been since 2015. I'm happy to be back. <3

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Good morning and happy new year Tumblrinas!

Okay, let's take stock of where we are...

I'm playing Baldur's Gate 3, it's pretty nice. Meant to romance Karlach out the gate but tripped and fell into Gale's lap, whoops. What can I say, the man's a soft touch and I'm into it. Gnome paladin was a great choice, I look hysterical with a greatsword. Just swing me like a catapult at that point.

Starting another save in Pokemon Violet on Switch, just for the lulz. Shouldn't take me too long to run through it. Probably got a craving from having played through around this time last year.

Trying maybe for a second masters. It sucks being in a job you're bored at, so thinking of switching industries. I should enroll in classes for Spring and Summer. I forgot how much work a degree is. But my first class went very well.

Trying very hard to get pregnant, well, my wife is anyway. Please, please let us baby. We'd like a baby. And then it will be my turn to become pregnant. Not, like, immediately, but soon. We'd like a few kids.

In the process of redoing my whole closet. I have a lot of old, worn out things, stuff that doesn't fit anymore, and I asked for gift cards for Christmas, so maybe I can put together a whole new wardrobe. New wardrobe, new me.

Did change my haircut, no more two block situation, now more of a traditional pixie cut. Looks kinda cute c: We'll see how that goes. I haven't had symmetrical hair in awhile. I'm so silver these days 8C

Cooking better all the time. Can't wait to see what new recipes I master this year. I attempted steak last year and it's gone pretty well! Wish lamb was more available in this country, I love lamb so much. I'd cook with it all the time if I could. I really want to make moussaka one of these days, it's so tasty and, I think, achievable.

Utterly haunted by the basil ice cream we had on my birthday though. God. Fuck. It sounds odd but it was... rewrote my brain.

Maybe we'll get to move soon! Now that we've paid for all that fucking sperm, we can save up to move into an actual house! How neat! The housing market here is garbage, big surprise, but I've found a few nice, newer houses closer to my current work that are in a pretty decent school district. I may be seduced.

And just think, then I could get a Costco membership 83 The only thing stopping me now is I have literally nowhere to put all the bulk items I'd be buying. But soon... soon, precious. My wife has never been to Costco, she does not know its cornucopia of treasures. Ugh, I can't wait!

Don't know what I'll write next. I've been toying with trying to do some original work, but I've realized that in my long years of fanfic, my character creation muscles have completely atrophied. How do you all just make little guys? Like, you have to believe in them and care about them, and I'm always 'It has red hair and green eyes... I don't even know what it likes yet!' And then I panic and give up. I just need more practice, I'm sure.

And I've started reading Homestuck.

Well, that's probably about enough to be going on with. Thanks for the listen!

[cultivating-wildflowers]

Books of 2023 - November

Still struggling to get through the books I want to read by the end of the year; but, on the plus side, I've marked off a few audiobooks I've had bookmarked on Hoopla!

Total books: 5  |  New reads: 5   |   2023 TBR completed: 0 (0 DNF) / 22/25 total   |   2023 Reading Goal: 85/50

October | December

#1 - The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen - 4/5 stars (audio)

“Hail His Majesty, the scourge of my life."

This was a bit of a surprise! I don't know how this book ended up on my tbr, and I had to force myself to give it 10% before I decided whether or not to dnf it. Fortunately, it became more interesting after a somewhat lackluster opening; and it ended up being a fun story, for all its faults. (And I did NOT like the narrator.)

My biggest complaint had to be the politics. More than once I paused while listening to yell "Really?!?" because so much of that didn't make sense. The nice thing is that the story itself was engaging enough that the fumbled attempts at political intrigue and court customs didn't ruin it, which is kind of miraculous considering it's a story about a treason plot.

I really became engaged once my finely-tuned suspicion was piqued. (Thanks Megan Whalen Turner.) The twists were a little predictable but entirely satisfying. Gonna recommend this one to my sister and brother-in-law.

#2 - To Each This World by Julie E. Czerneda - 4/5 stars (audio)

*content warnings for mild language and sexual content*

This book grabbed me from the first page. The exposition and world-building were well-balanced, especially considering all of the background and technology that needed to be coherently introduced. It may have been easier to physically read this one with all of the unfamiliar terms and name structures (I felt the same way with The Goblin Emperor); and one of the three narrators did a horrible job differentiating between characters when there was heavy dialogue. (The other two narrators were fantastic.) It was an entertaining read with just the right amount of twists to keep me guessing.

Also, I love it when an author's personal interests shine through like they did here (Czerneda is a biologist).

#3 - System Collapse by Martha Wells - 4/5 stars (audio)

Another fun installment! Personally I rank it near Fugitive Telemetry in terms of plot. Felt to me more like a bridge book than its own adventure. Some of that might be on me; I was really struggling to pay attention to this one.

Pros: Tarik! And major character development for Murderbot.

Cons: Not nearly enough of Three.

#4 - The Riverman by Aaron Starmer - 3/5 stars (audio)

Skim the reviews for this book and you’ll notice a theme: “Wait…. What???”

This book started out strong, tripped on its own shoelaces a couple of chapters in, and fell flat on its face. It then spent almost the rest of the story trying to convince you it was the cat’s fault—when there isn’t even a cat.

Why does the 12-year-old protagonist read as 15? Why do all of the reveals come out of left field with as much foreshadowing as a shadow puppet dog? How were there so many characters and yet almost no genuine human interactions between them? How does a person lose an index, middle, and ring finger but NOT the pinky or thumb on the same hand? Why was the story giving off fantasy signals at the start when it apparently meant to be magical realism/horror with way more ambiguity than it had earned? Was it set in the 80’s just to keep the main characters from conveniently googling all of their questions? HOW DOES A PERSON SPEND TWELVE YEARS ALL ALONE IN A MAGICAL WORLD AND STILL NEED ONE CONVERSATION WITH AN EXTREMELY CONFUSED CHILD TO FIGURE OUT THE BIG REVEAL??? Was she sitting on her hands talking to chartreuse giraffes for that entire period?

The most frustrating thing to me was that there was so much potential here, so many angles we could have explored, so many places we could have dropped a few clues; yet the portal fantasy aspect was blander than a cheese sandwich and Alistair’s obtuseness was the only thing keeping the real world story thread tangled long enough to make a book out of it.

#5 - The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings - 4/5 stars (audio)

I was about 80% of the way through this book, really enjoying it because I'd come across the audiobook and the narrator was great and it was a cozy, kind of idyllic, slice-of-life little classic and bam.

Told a friend what I was reading and she responded instantly with "oh I HATE that book".

And I realized I was definitely holding a tragedy in my hands. I'd suspected as much, but I didn't want to believe it. Now the question was how would that last 20% go down.

My friends, it went down like honey with a Worcestershire sauce chaser.

Of all of the ways I might have guessed it would end, I was honestly hoping for something more like Where the Red Fern Grows. And I expected it to happen a little sooner than right at the very end (minus what? a chapter?). Pain upon pain, woe upon woe.

I didn't hate it by any means. 98% of it I loved. It's just not quite what I was expecting and I'm still recovering from that.

DNF

The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu (tr. Ken Liu) - Solid writing and an interesting premise, but not my cup of tea.

[dildostiaurkitabein]

Naseeb; destiny

I did not expect you to write me another letter given that I haven't yet replied to yours. And for that, I sincerely apologise. The fear of not getting to read anymore of the interesting stories that you compose has obliged me to take up a pen. Despite how lethargic I feel and how much I dislike writing, I have sat down to write to you.

I am glad to know you enjoyed witnessing the wedding of two of your close friends. I wish them nothing more than a ifetime of happiness and love. You have also mentioned that in your opinion sometimes destiny works in favour and sometimes against people. And I would like to disagree with that, respectfully.

You are well aware, my dear friend, I have always been a reader. Stories, real or fiction have made me learn a thing or two about ife and people in depth. There's one line about naseeb; destiny I read once that is engraved on my mind ever since. In life, when I am faced with the challenge of making a difficult decision, I think of it, "Naseeb is what people blame for something they can't change themselves"

When a woman marries an ill-natured man, she's told it was in her naseeb to be married to that man. When a misfortune occurs, people grieve for a period of time and then say to themselves, it was in their naseeb, something they couldn't change. It is meant to be said as a consolation prize. By saying so, they satisfy themselves that they couldn't have possibly changed anything even if they had tried. But that line has changed my perspective of blaming naseeb for the things we can`'t change for as long as I shall live.

When I face a conflict or when I have to make a tough decision or when I am expected to take matters in my own hands, I realised I didn't want to blame naseeb when my cowardice is to be blamed instead.

Moreover, I didn't want to regret not having even tried to change my naseeb when I am old and wrinkly thinking about the life I have lived.

When I wanted to get a scholarship for my program and wasn`t selected for five consecutive years, I like to think I kept going, kept applying every year to know for sure that I had tried as much as I could. When I did get selected in the sixth year, I believed then that I had changed my naseeb. Had given up upon my first unsuccessful attempt, I would just blame my naseeb for not having gotten in.

When I was brutally injured in a car accident last year, lying on the hospital bed with multiple fractures, I didn't blame naseeb for my condition. Instead, I pondered upon the changes I could make to not remain dependent on anyone for even a small thing such as getting water for myself. Needless o say, it took me a year and a half to be able to stand on my own two feet.

Don`t get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with depending on someone in times of adversity. I meant I didn't want to sulk in place thinking about where my destiny has led me.

How did I get the determination to go on and not give up after some unsuccessful attempts, you may ask. For that, let me remind you the story of the famous Thomas Elva Edison and how he didn't choose to give up after not one, not two, not five or ten but 10,000 times in perfecting the incandescent electric light bulb. Do you believe he would be as famous as he's now had he given up after a few unsuccessful attempts?

Everytime that I failed, I would think to myself: "maybe if I tried one more time, just one...I may succeed" and the curiosity of finding out whether I would in fact succeed, has gotten me where I am today.

And so, my friend, I do not agree that destiny has anything to do with what happens to us, Instead it is what we don't dare to do, the chances we don't take, the lantern of hope we don't hold tightly to, that shapes our destiny.

It is here where I rest my pen and, in doing so, rest my fingers too. I am eagerly waiting to receive your contribution to my observation.

Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me, ever yours with irrevocable affection.

[disgracedfaeprincess]

– How... How big does it have to be to work?

The young lady asked herself, looking at the mess of papers, drawing materials, candles and spices all over her room.

This was the third attempt. Well at least at pentagram summoning. Bloody Mary rituals, ouija boards... Hell, even praying or finding a crossroad, she has tried everything, and noted down each failure with all the academic rigor a secluded teenager could afford.

After all, if she succeeded there was nothing to loose.

She took the hair out of her face, and opened the window, just in case.

– Ego te daemonium... - black smoke exhaled from the candles when she started speaking the room felt suddenly dark as her words glew green in her mouth, she could taste them. Rotten, the last words fell from her mouth. - voco, da mihi custodiam!

The last of the glow fell from her mouth and ignited the pentagram. Her watery eyes didn't let her see. As the coughing fit receded she saw that a man was standing in the middle of it.

Well maybe man wasn't the word. It dressed all red, the same colour as its gravity defying hair. His smile was filled with endless pointed teeth that could no doubt maul her in a second. And the air had fallen to the undistinct sound of radio static.

– Oh.. Hello..? - her voice so small it was almost unaudible.

The red man looked down at the pentagram. Some assorted old objects, clearly mostly acquired from the trash, were scattered across the room.

He inspected the pile, looking for something familiar that could've summoned him here. There was a piece of an old wooden radio, so he changed his attention to the girl.

She looked tiny. Not becouse of being short, but becouse she was emaciated. The bones peeked through her movements, barely any meat to hold them together. Her eyes were sunken, dark rings surrounding them. Her hair was matted and thinning. It was difficult to tell her age. She looked so sick that he couldn't tell if she was 25 or 14.

– Quite a pleasure to be meeting you dear! I'm Alastor, infamous radio demon and best entertainer in hell! - a faint musical upbeat followed him around - May I ask where I am? Or... More exactly what am I doing here sweetheart?

His musical thread went through several compasses before she reacted, opening her mouth, almost shell-shocked.

– This wasn't meant to work. Like This - her hands signaled all over the room - It- it was just another dumb experiment, another failure to archive. You shouldn't exist! Only darkness after dead right? - her eyes grew bigger and desperate – It was supossed to be a ghoul!

He straightened his raggedy suit, unphased.

–Oh dear, my business is souls dealing!Don't be scared kiddo - he gets real close to her, passing an arm through her shoulders, they felt so fragile he stopped midtrack to squeezing her - I'll make it worth it, what you want, A sirens voice? Riches? or maybe someone you want gone? - he was cheerful and energetic - Or… you have another deal in mind? Because I'm not leaving without a Deal or a Soul, dar-ling.

The gutural voice glitches through heavy filters, as his neck cracked to an unatural position and his scleras where totally black.

The girl was terrified, but, noone that tries so hard to summon the supernatural is unprepared to make a deal. Besides her soul can't be worth much.

– I have one. - She didn't miss how the demon arched it's brow, surprised. She looked serious- I want protection. I want to live until it's my time. It shouldn't take too much, as I'm sure you've noticed, I reek of death, I've got a few months left if I'm lucky. And i want some fun, so my proposal is. You come by once a month. We have fun, I don't know, eat something or you get me a gift or something. And when I die my souls yours, but, only if I don't die of 'nything else than my illness. Also you can't hurt people without my permission, don't want to have that on my conscience. - The entire discourse was clearly well rehearsed, so much that she had relaxed repeating it After it was done though she returned to reality. Her eyes were confronted by an amused look from the radio demon- Um... Yeah that's about it. Do You want to add any clauses..?

– Quite impressive indeed, such a young lady... Your name is?

She swallowed before answering

– Lucía - the roll of the name in her mouth was clearly foreigner.

– Very good Lucía, we've got a deal then. - his smile stretched impossibly as he offered his hand forward neon energy overflowing

Her hand trembled slightly but picked up determination as it approached him.

– We've got a deal Alastor... - the house rattled. Shadows dancing through the room as pink and green magic exploded. The sheer force sent the girl flying to the floor.

Interesting, he thought, but he didn't have the time to think about it, the pentagram was lighting up, reclaiming him to hell.

– It's been a pleasure my dear! But I've gotta go back, see you in a month, Toodaloo!

[radiantlyrey]

Thinkin' 'Bout NaNoWriMo

It's getting to be that time of year again--that time when writers everywhere sit down and ask themselves important questions. Questions like, "Am I doing NaNoWriMo this year?" and "If I am doing NaNo, what am I even gonna write?"

I am planning to do an abridged NaNo this year--probably not more than 20k words for the whole month. (Part of me always wants to shoot for 50k, but the rest of me knows me better than that, and knows that down that path lies horrific burnout, so.) I am having trouble choosing which story I want to work on.

Which brings me to you, Tumblr.

Here are my current story ideas for NaNoWriMo. There are five of them, and I've listed a little summary for almost all of them, along with some personal pros and cons.

Idea #1: Fantasy Titanic This idea came to me in a dream two years ago (no, really). The basic gist is thus: What if Titanic (1997), but instead of a love story, it's a heist story, and also there are elves and magic and shit? The summary:

The grandest cruise ship of the century is setting off on its maiden voyage. Passengers include young Neela, who is crossing the ocean to meet her fiance before their wedding, and Alice, a sorceress and unwilling conwoman/thief whose mother has chosen Neela as their next mark. The con is nearly done when disaster strikes--the ship hits an iceberg and begins to sink. In the chaos that ensues, Alice must make hard choices, not least of which is who she wants to be if she survives.

Pros and Cons: +I already have the first half of the story plotted out. +I already have extensive profiles of my two main characters written.

-I have to do a lot more research on the actual ship and the disaster. -I feel like some of the plot I do have needs to be reworked.

Idea #2: Beauty and the Beast Retelling This story is a rewrite of a story I wrote about 15 years ago in my online writing group. I've been wanting to retackle it for a while now, and I spent some time this past spring making plans for it. I don't have a formal summary for it yet, but.

The story follows the basic shape of the original fairy tale, but with some modernization and fantasy twists. The story is set in the US, and it's set in a world where magic has been gone from the western world for well over a century. Other than that, things are more or less the same: Penniless father of three daughters gets lost on the way home from a trip, ends up at a mysterious and obviously magical mansion. He accidentally offends his host, a monstrous Beast, who demands the father give up one of his daughters to the Beast, or else return himself. The eldest daughter (rather than the youngest) agrees to go in her father's place.

Pros and Cons: +I have almost three-fourths of the story plotted out. +I am eager to revisit this idea and improve on my first attempt.

-I may need to do some more worldbuilding before drafting can begin. -I’m not sure if I have a good grip on my main character yet.

Idea #3: TRON/Pacific Rim Crossover I have had this idea for about five years now, and it's a basic "what if I mashed these two universes together?" style crossover. My concept is a series of fics that follow TRON character Quorra's point of view of the Kaiju War, and her journey towards eventually becoming a Jaeger pilot with Sam Flynn (another TRON character). I've got about five or six of the stories already plotted out, though I don't have much more of a summary.

Pros and Cons: +I know how the next few stories are meant to go. +I am feeling enthusiastic about the story as a whole, and am eager to continue work on it.

-I am kind of blocked on the second story, and have been for a while. -I’m still worried no one’s going to read this thin, so what's the point.

Idea #4: TRON '82 High Fantasy AU Not much to say about this one except that it's very new, but here's a summary:

Chesst styles himself the God-Emperor of the Seven Realms, and has outlawed worship of the old gods. Those who still cling to the ancient ways are consigned to the empire’s gladiatorial arenas, forced to fight to the death in dangerous games. Tron, a former knight-paladin of the realm of Enqor, has spent nearly a year in the arenas, fighting and surviving and keeping his faith alive. The gods have not forsaken him yet, and he knows they will not let Chesst’s blasphemy stand. When an amnesiac prisoner named Flynn arrives at Tron’s arena, Tron and his friend Ram are tasked with preparing him for the games. As Flynn recovers and trains, it becomes clear that he is much stronger than even Tron expected. He has access to a powerful magic that he cannot fully control, even with Tron mentoring him. As the start of the games approaches, Tron can only hope that Flynn’s true power can be concealed long enough for him to control it, and perhaps long enough for the three of them to escape.

Pros and Cons: +It’s a new idea, which means it could spark a lot of creativity. +I think it could be a fun idea to explore at length.

-I’d have to do a ton of worldbuilding to get ready to write it. -I also need to plot the whole thing (or at least part of it), with the original film as a guide.

Idea #5: The Face in the Mirror This is also a new idea and yet another TRON story. Concept came about a post on here about what might happen if one program's disc was put on another program's body. I've billed this one as a horror story; here's the summary:

Metz is having a little trouble with his memory. He remembers… horrible things, things that don’t make sense. He remembers derezzing, or at least, he thinks he does. His best friend and lover, Starr, says that it’s just a packet of bad code that will purge itself in time. She reassures him that he’s fine, and he wants to believe her, but… Sometimes, it’s like someone or something else is inside his body. And every time he sees his reflection, he’s startled by the face staring back at him…

Pros and Cons: +I know the basic shape of the story already. +The plot will probably fit my lower NaNoWriMo goal of 10-20k.

-I have no idea how to write a horror story. -I’m not sure I have enough enthusiasm for this idea right now.

I do not promise to abide by the results of this poll, but I'm interested to see what y'all think of my conundrum.

[sweatandwoe]

*jumps through door* idk about the prompt thing but singed x silco always intrigued me so singed helping silco with his eye or plans for a prompt if you can/want to write it? *breaks down window*

You said Silco helping with his eye and I said gay dads modern AU (probably) (also if you got any prompt plans, you can also DM me too!)

Silco x Singed Tags: Domestic Bliss, Probably Modern AU, Singed's first name is Corin, They have three kids (Orianna, Viktor and Jinx), husband's being vulnerable with each other is my fave actually, first time writing Sinco

-

"Sweetheart."

"No."

"Darling."

"Corin, no."

The doctor frowns, dragging long fingers through the shorter man's dark hair. "It's for the best."

There's a groan below him, a face burying further into the crook of his neck, legs curling tightly on Singed's lap. "I don't need glasses."

The taller man sighs. "I was only implying it may be good to get them checked."

There's a huff against his neck. "I'm not old."

"I didn't say that." Fingers trail against the scalp, crawling towards the back of his partner's neck. "And besides, Silco, if I was implying you were old, I would be doing the same to myself."

That earns a slight pull back, The Eye of Zaun shifting in his arms to stare at him. "You know, you've never told me your exact age."

Singed hums, keeping an arm around the other man's waist, a physical connection while he pulls out his phone with his free hand. "And you're only attempting to ask now to try to distract me from setting up your optometrist appointment."

He's met with the stubborn silence of truth, and Silco working his tongue against his cheek. After a minute, nothing is said besides a heavy sigh from the man, before he resumes the position of snuggling his husband, pressing his face against his throat. "I don't want to go. They always ask about the eye."

"It will be fine." The hand moves up from the waist, to caress his back. "I'll make sure they know about it already."

A pause and Silco's fingers dig into his shoulders. "What if they give me a monocule?"

Singed doesn't miss a beat, eyes on his phone still as he looks up the email address to make the appointment. "You'll be called the Monopoly man instead of the Eye of Zaun for a few days until everyone gets used to it."

That earns a nip against his neck, that has Singed smiling again before clearing his throat. "Orianna said she wants to take you. Test out her driving skills and have lunch with her favorite step-parent."

"Bringing up the children? An evil tactic." There's a smile against the skin, before another kiss. "I'm almost proud."

A hum. "Your negotiation skills were bound to rub off."

" I think I can give you a good demonstration of how well I can negotiate, lovely. If you want to practice."

Singed doesn't even blink at the obvious offer. "I already had a demonstration in mind."

That gets an elegant eyebrow raise. "Oh?"

"I sleep here in the lab until you go." The other man stiffens in his arms. "You're welcome to join me. Though I think I'm getting another specimen shipment-"

"I'll go."

That earns a smile and a brush of lips to Silco's forehead. "Thank you."

There's another nip to his neck, that quickly becomes a few more, fingers moving from shoulders down to the folds of his jacket and pushing the fabric back. Silco is apparently determined to show him that neither of them were old.

Singed would allow him, at least until after the optometrist appointment. Then he'd let Silco know they were both old, but just to make the most out of it. Life was meant to be lived, no matter what age they were.

But for now, as lips trail over his skin, he'll enjoy Silco's attempt at retaining their youth.

[spine-buster]

I thought you said you were catholic? How can you be for abortion and claim to be catholic? Abortion rights are not human right, the sanctity of life supersedes this. As a catholic you should know and do better. Also you shouldn’t be posting this on your blog, we don’t come here to see that messaging.

Oh my darling, you are so very lucky that you sent this to me at a time when I've finished teaching for the summer, but you're still going to get educated today.

Don't you dare come on my blog and tell me what I can and can't post. For the record, if you're here for my fics, I want you to know that every single one of my OFCs is extremely pro-choice and have zero issue with abortion. If that's ruined my stories for you, oh fucking well.

I was born and raised Catholic, work in a Catholic environment, and I still practice the faith. However, there are portions of my faith that I staunchly don't agree with. That's healthy. You're going to sit there on your little keyboard and send me this message seriously? How many lives have been saved from stem-cell research, which the Catholic Church is against? What about birth control and how it tackles not just fertility, but a range of women's health issues like cysts and hormone imbalance that women used to literally die from? How can you argue that it's okay that women still can't become priests? Moreover, how can you justify the Church's covering up of systemic sexual abuse of young children and nuns? The hoarding of their wealth? The colonization they participated in and continue to participate in?

I wrote that abortion rights are human rights and I fucking meant it. You want to come on to my blog and talk to me about the sanctity of life? What about the sanctity of life of the person carrying the child? The sanctity of life of a clump of cells does not supersede anything. What if a person is not religious and doesn't believe in sanctity? Why should they abide by a Christian set of principles (but more on that later)? What about the life of the 11-year-old who was raped by her uncle and now has to carry his baby? What about the sanctity of her life? Or is she just some jezebel harlot who was asking for it, hmm? What do you have to say about that? Why is it that a group of cells has more rights than an 11-year-old child in Texas, in Georgia, in South Dakota, in Idaho? If a living, breathing, human being has been stripped of their right to bodily autonomy, privacy, and health, what is left? What goes next? They have already lost their ability to choose what is the best course of action for them in their life -- so who is to choose for them? Their father? Brother? Uncle? Their priest/deacon/pastor/religious leader? What right do they have to make a decision for another person?

"As a Catholic you should know and do better" bitch shut the fuck up. I do know better and do do better. Jesus never said anything about abortion. And don't even attempt to throw Leviticus or any other Old Testament verses at me. The Last Supper brought about the New Covenant, and Jesus' death is the basis of the promise in the New Covenant. The Old Covenant between God and Moses / Yahweh and the Hebrew people, with obedience to Mosaic Law is, for lack of a better term, deemed null and void because of Jesus and the Last Supper. Luke 22:20 explicitly states "And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying 'This cup that is poured out for you is the new and everlasting covenant in my blood.'" THIS IS LITERALLY SAID DURING EVERY MASS BEFORE WE RECEIVE EUCHARIST. This is like basic Catholicism 101. If you had paid attention in religion class or Sunday school you may have remembered this. And, like, I'm not even gonna get STARTED on Catholic social teaching and the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy.

Good fucking riddance. Get the hell of my blog and never come back.