#Fictober2024

[val-creative]

Fictober Day 18: “you always have a plan”

Tim/Kon

For @fictober-event's Day 18 prompt!

Type: Fanfiction | Fandom: DC Comics | Ship: Kon-El (Superboy)/Tim Drake (Robin) | Warnings & Triggers: Mentions of Illness

---

"Okay, uuh, uh, what's the plan?" Kon-El wheezes, clutching his abdomen. He tries hopping from foot to foot. Nope. It doesn't help.

"Nn..."

(Tim's breathy and kinda deeply attractive groan doesn't help either.)

"C'mon, Rob. What's going hnnon?" Kon-El says complainingly, bending over forward and then bending back until it twinges pleasantly in Kon-El's spine. "Guhh, you're telling me there's no plan? You're telling me there's no plan when you always have a plan?"

"I have a plan," Tim mutters from the floor, curling with his back to Kon-El. "It involves lying here until... haa, the internal cramps stop."

"You can't be serious. All of us got WHAMMIED, man...."

"Just you two, apparently," Garfield announces, poking his head in from the upstairs corridor of Titans Tower. "Everyone else is fine."

(Oh, great. Great.)

"Can't we get... hhn, nn... Zatanna? She's free?"

When there's no answer but Tim's suspiciously steady and calm heartrate in Kon-El's ears, he vents out an annoyed noise.

"Listen. It's a spell, right," Kon-El insists. It's gotta be. Because it's like everything has been set on fire. A hellfire. And it's raging right inside of him and Tim. "The hot chick with the glowy and super-powered hands. I grabbed you when you got it first, Rob--then, she hit me in the back--and then, it was like a shockwave going out all over--"

"--I've already spoken with Zatanna. She knew her." Tim interrupts, rolling over with some difficulty to glower, "We're dealing with 'food poisoning symptoms' until morning. That's it. Go sleep it off."

Kon-El scoffs.

"You coulda said that earlier," he complains again, flopping beside Tim curling back around. Kon-El's head nudges him. That is when he senses the familiar hitch in Tim's pulse. Whenever they're close.

Grinning, despite the aches and pains, Kon-El buries his face into the dark, caped shoulder of Tim's uniform. Warm and smells good.

("What a bunch of weenies," Rose mumbles, leaving Garfield to spy.)

[miroslavcloset]

- Prompt List -

10/01 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 First game together/against each other

10/02 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Injury

10/03 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Videocall

10/04 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 That night at the hotel

10/05 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Apart/Together in the international break

10/06 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Different Sport AU

10/07 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 “The media keeps posting about us.”

10/08 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Date in another country

10/09 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 A teammate noticing

10/10 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Game/Title celebration

10/11 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Transfer window

10/12 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Award Ceremony

10/13 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Rival Teams

10/14 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Secret Dating

10/15 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Jersey Swap

10/16 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Retirement

10/17 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Holiday

10/18 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Songfic / Inspired by a song

10/19 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Post-game Interview

10/20 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Jealousy

10/21 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Instagram comments

10/22 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 “Does the coach know about us..?”

10/23 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Captaincy

10/24 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Free AU

10/25 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Locker Room

10/26 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Iconic moment together

10/27 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Debut game

10/28 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Domestic Fluff

10/29 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Training

10/30 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Vacations

10/31 ⚽︎⋆𐙚 Free Space!

Feel free to participate with as many days as you like! From just one to the whole challenge ✨ With any word count and any topic/situation related to the prompt, also any fiction style~

Also, any platform is perfect, here in Tumblr, AO3, etc. Anything is valid! Football player X Football player, any ship you'd like from any team/s, Football player X OC/Self Insert/Reader/Readers, Manager X Player, Manager X Manager, Commentator, Interviewer, etc~

Reminder: I'll be using the tag #FootyRpfFictober, so if you want to use it, I would love to read your fics!

Hope you can join me!

w/love, Nana

⋆taglist⋆

@kvaradonaa @wonchswife @thesusbunny

[thiswillbecomesomething]

Day 24. 'You didn't do anything wrong'

Kate Bishop x Reader - Black Ribbion is a seamstress, superhero and manufacturer for the Avengers, but that is not what people talk about.

Masterlist | Fictober

[takoscribit]

@fictober-event, #31 it’s always been you Fandom: LoTR, Haldir-centric & Legolas

It's you…

Haldir said, picking up his pace among the bodies.

It's you. It's you.

His voice firmer at each unsteady step, trying his best to get through the field of death and sacrifice.

His stare towards one point only.

The silhouette of Legolas was right there, right in front of him. There was no mistake, for his eyes never betrayed him.

He could reach him. He could reach Legolas. He felt it in his broken bones, in the acute pain from his back, in his unshakable soul. He was close.

It's always been you.

The exquisite satisfaction of realizing his feelings. The possibility of them turning into a reality, soon.

He tripped but still pushed through legs and arms and beloved friends with just one thought.

It's always been you.

"Marchwarden!"

A voice. They saw him.

"Haldir!"

His voice. He'll get to him soon.

[angeldelillith]

Fictober Day 1: "that was nice work"

"So, you don't have any ideas...?" Dipper asked, looking at his sister lying face down on the bed.

The last week had been a bit overwhelming between college applications and all the requests. Both with the mindset that among so many letters they could achieve something good.

While Dipper had finished his part a few days ago, Mabel had one last one left. According to her, she had left the last one for the end, but at the same time the most complicated.

Which meant a week full of painting disasters and bad sculptures that ended up in the trash, hours of cleaning and her so frustrated that she stopped talking for hours. And now she only had 48 hours to send something, otherwise Chicago would be ruled out and the chances of a university would decrease.

And Dipper could only be there, he had helped as much as he could no matter if that meant ending up in a silly argument with her or whatever. He hated seeing every piece she spent hours working on in pieces because something wasn't right or the frustration. Hearing her feel like she wasn't good enough or just a mess broke him. But he couldn't do more. He didn't have her skill, and there were times when he wished he could do that job for her, he wished he could save her from that frustration where at times she said that maybe art wasn't for her.

And now they were both in her room, he rested his hand on her head, a few minutes ago they had finished fixing the mess in the garage that their father would surely kill them if he had only seen a part. The only good thing is that they had learned to remove shiny papier-mâché from the ceiling effectively. And the reminder that maybe sometimes there is too much glitter.

They reviewed Mabel's list of ideas again, maybe a few hours of rest would fix everything, after all they had too much free time before going back to school, but they didn't say the same thing with the application letter attaching some work.

Complicated...

Mabel, for her part, didn't care how many hours she dedicated. Notebooks full of sketches, loose sheets scattered everywhere. More and more cross-outs. Too much garbage for so few days.

Not to mention the pressure from her parents and now she had a limited time.

It was impossible to sleep, it was impossible not to feel so small in something she had desired so much and in the end she could do nothing. She looked at the clock every fifteen minutes, or when she thought an eternity had passed rolling around in bed wishing for dawn to appear. But only a few hours had passed.

She had no choice but to get up. Today would be another one of those nights where her thoughts seemed to float everywhere, mixing them with her stealth so as not to wake anyone up or alert anyone. Thinking of another option that she would discard in the next few hours and pretending to be sleeping like a "normal person".

What she didn't expect was that this time someone would hear her. When she noticed his presence at the entrance of her half-open door, who passed slowly and sat on the floor next to her.

“Hey…”

He said, still with tired eyes and his hair tousled. She could almost feel guilty for waking him up. 

“I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep, I'm just…”

“I know, I know. It's not the first time I've heard you, but I always thought you needed your space. Today I think I'm not going to make an exception…”

“It was a disaster…”

“No, it wasn't. You're demanding too much of yourself these days. I can understand that in part but you need to stop…”

She looked at him while he just looked away at the drafts and all the notebooks scattered around them.

“I'm not good enough for Chicago”

“You're wrong, stop denying that. It was your first choice and then more came out and you left this for the end... Mabel I don't understand wh-”

At that moment all of Dipper's thoughts seemed to form just one, silence had taken over the whole room and he slowly turned his face to look at his sister. She covered her mouth with her hand, trembled as her eyes were covered with tears threatening to come out at any moment.

"Are you refusing to go? Do you understand that this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? And then what?" 

She said, turning around and covering herself with her hair. 

"You can't refuse to go... Why?" 

"It's too far away... I can't..." 

"I don't understand..." 

"I can't, Mason! I can't imagine being miles away in an empty room or with strangers and having to imagine that you can write to me or that at some point you'll be as busy as I am and the messages will be so scarce and the calls non-existent and we'll only see each other in this house once or twice a year. That everything ends up like that and the routine and all these years leave us only as acquaintances. But I can't force you to give up what you can have, I did it once, I wouldn't forgive myself if I did it again..."

 "No, wait, wait. If you're referring to Ford, you didn't force me to do anything, I wasn't losing a big opportunity, Mabel, what we have isn't going to fall apart in messages that aren't received or calls that never happen. And I doubt that will happen. What we have is stronger than all the kilometers you want to add, everything you want to sum up. It's not going to end. Don't think about it. You've been sabotaging yourself with fears that you shouldn't have. Tell me, who else would help you take papier-mâché off the ceiling?"

Mabel wiped away her tears as she let out a laugh. She didn't know how long she had been with those thoughts, how long she had kept everything that soon seemed to disappear into the air when her brother threw himself at her, hugging her tightly while whispering that everything would be alright.

For Dipper, it had been getting lost in her words, and all that worry. Having her held against him feeling her heart racing, remembering all the sleepless nights he seemed to hear, and all that frustration for every piece in the trash that he would be capable of going to the dump just to remind her that everything she did was really valuable. And not just for him. At that moment he could only assure himself that he would be capable of anything for her, so that she would never be on the floor crying, if he had to drive miles once they were separated just to show her that he would never abandon her, no matter what he would do it a thousand times and more. He loved her more than anything in the world, no one would love anything or anyone like all the affection he had for Mabel.

It was too much...

He took her face in both hands, kissing her forehead, kissing the tip of her nose and ending on her lips. Softly he knew he had made a mistake.

He thought about it the next morning. Mabel had left early according to what his mother had said, she hadn't answered any of his messages. And it was better not to talk about calls. He still remembered her surprised eyes, while Dipper couldn't form a single sentence. He had ruined it. He was scared when he got up and left his room. He didn't even have the courage to see her one more time and now he was regretful. But what could he say to his mother? He could only wait.

Wait until noon without any answer. Wait until sunset without any answer. Wait in the middle of the night without any answer.

His parents acted as an intercom, saying she was fine and would be back any minute. How was it possible that they were so calm?

He had messed it up, he didn't have the courage to approach her when she looked at him, to say something to her and the promise he had made to her in her room seemed to have shattered along with everything else.

But Mabel also announced that she had submitted her application to Chicago. She had been working on it. Without him…

It was no surprise to either of their parents that both twins were accepted where they had primarily applied. The miles had begun to distance them without even moving them from place. It was a huge crack.

It was no surprise either that Mabel's painting was being exhibited in a room with others to present to the "new" candidates at the university and that the family decided to join the exhibition and she could see it and have an integration meeting as soon as possible.

Dipper just dragged his feet without complaining or giving any opinion. He was very happy for her. And at the same time he felt heartbroken.

The art gallery wasn't very big, it was lit by the top windows where sunlight came in, there were a few people. Maybe it was still early.

His parents had stayed outside talking to other adults and he had decided to go in alone. He no longer wanted to wonder where his sister was.

His thoughts died when he was in front of the painting, the one he had felt displaced from, the one that had ruined everything, the one his sister had never told him about.

It was a view of trees from the ground, only a few crowns could be admired and the leaves covering everything around, tinged green, yellow and red all around, the sun seemed to want to enter but they were only illuminated leaves, and in the center you could see two hands, two people, he had seen a similar scene hundreds of times but that one took him back to "Gravity Falls" to the hours lost in the woods, between the supernatural and between each adventure that simply united him more to her.

On the edge of that painting you could read "Forever".

The crack had disappeared at that moment, all his fears disappeared and Mabel's voice behind him took him out of that trance.

“You took me by surprise the first time, I'm sorry I should have told you something but I really wanted to surprise you too”

“W-What?”

Dipper turned around seeing her smile almost melancholically, he hugged her again. It was as if centuries ago he had lost her presence, and he understood all her fears. But at the same time he remembered that no matter what happened he was never going to let that happen.

“Are they going to sell this?”

“Some of them are, and others aren't.”

“Yours, Mabs?”

“You mean yours... it's for you…”

“No..”

“I couldn't put into words what happened that night, before you left, I couldn't tell you anything, then I tried to clear my mind and then I just painted something that made me happy, something where I could throw everything I felt at that moment.”

Dipper just smiled imagining that painting that would go with him when the time came, that would shorten all the miles, he thought about plans to not only see each other at home but about the thousands of adventures they could have once they were out of the house and he thought about Mabel, how much he loved her and that he would.

[asterdeer]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Adventures in Odyssey Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Regis Blackgaard & Richard Maxwell Characters: Richard Maxwell, Regis Blackgaard Additional Tags: One Shot, Character Study, Canon Compliant, for once, Rated for brief strong language, as always, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse Series: Part 1 of Fictober 2024 Summary:

Blackgaard’s hand, braced ever-so-lightly on the back of the desk chair, lifts up to pat Richard on the shoulder, once, twice, three times, the way you pat a good dog’s head. The second-worst part of this whole situation is that Richard knows that’s how Blackgaard sees him.

The worst part is that he doesn’t really care.

Fictober 2024, Prompt 1: "That was good work."

[orion-lacroix]

I know you better (now)

oops maybe 11pm is too late for day 3? anyway this is day 3, prompt 3

Characters are Marie and Henry (again yayy) roughly set 3 years after the event of prompt 1:

warnings: nothing really much but alcohol and the vague mention alluded to of sa (fear of living with the one you will be training with for months when you don't know him) but nothing is really mentioned other than the events of the break-in in prompt 1

Original fiction

words: around 350 ( I had a busy day oops)

Maria had gotten used to Mr. Henry's way of doing things by now, he was gruff and strict and sometimes scary angry, but he also had a drive to protect people and nature.

When she had first decided to take the apprenticeship she had been terrified, she was going to live with a stranger in a remote location for a minimum of months, maybe years. He had asked to meet up before allowing her to move into his cabin and a part of her had been relived, she could analyze him, see if he was a threat.

After three years of apprenticeship under his protection, having seen the worst of humanity, she had never felt once threatened by him after the first week, not that she had ever admitted that. Until now.

"You know" she started out, slurring a words under the alcohol, frowning at the after taste of the alcohol she had chosen, "the first week I did not sleep once."

"I know kid, I know" Henry said, taking another gulp of his whiskey. He had refused the sweet almost candy-like alcohol Marie had brought. "But hey you finally decided to sleep so I guess you still had hope in humanity then"

He was joking, in his own way, laughing at the horrors they had seen because this was the only thing he knew in how to deal with everything.

"I guess trusting you wasn't so bad!" she said, a little louder than intended, taking another sip of her drink.

That seemed to bring him back completly sober for a moment. "You trust me?"

"Yeah!" she started, thinking about it a little more for a moment, drunken mind looking for the right word. "after the whole break-in incident and the other things it would be strange to not trust you."

Henry smiled, almost sadly and if Marie wasn't drunk she would have noticed the tears that were barely hidden. She didn't stop there, continuing what she started as her mind caught up.

"I feel safe here. I guess it's because I know you better now."

[cielwritesshit]

Fictober Day 1 - That was good work

Prompt: "That was good work"

Illinois hates work functions, but this one might be okay.

~~~~~

My first fanfic for this event! Just setting the scene for the characters, fandoms are of course A heist with Markiplier and Bendy and the Ink Machine, since that's all I write these days XD

No warnings or triggers this time, just a bit of fluff to get into the swing of things

[orangeclassidy]

Going to try to write a few oneshots off these. Idk...I want to write some wrestling oneshots but I'm drawing a blank.

The Prompts for Fictober 2024

Fictober Event, The prompts for 2024 Here is the list for October this year. Write something short (or long) and tag it with #fictober24 in the first five tags. Let’s see your creativity!

"that was good work"

"it's been a long time"

"I know you better"

"no, we're not doing that"

"it's a new day, let's go"

"I'm not giving up"

"follow me if you want to live"

"are we happy?"

"don't listen to me, listen to them"

"is this normal?"

"well, that worked out great"

"did you hear that?"

"that's not the point"

"did you stick to the plan?"

"let's try this"

"no, I'm not okay"

"strangest thing I ever heard"

"you always have a plan"

"this is getting ridiculous"

"I saw your eyes light up"

"we've done worse"

"why are we doing this again?"

"we can fix this, I know we can"

"you didn't do anything wrong"

"it consumes me"

"you were the first"

"let me remind you"

"just say what you want"

"how did this happen?"

"I won't let you down"

"it's always been you"

This event is open to fanfiction and original fiction. Start the first of October. You do not have to do the prompts in order. Tag your posts with #fictober24.

Please state at the top if your entry is original fiction or fanfiction and what fandom. State common warnings and triggers at the top and tag accordingly. No AI generated text or art.

I reserve the right to not reblog fics that I find inappropriate. I will reblog things here on @fictober-event, follow this blog to see all the entries. Go forth and write!

[companionwolf]

prompt fill #1

prompt: #16 no I'm not okay

fandom: blaseball, sort of

verse: based on a dream I had where the Reader helped me out of a really bad trauma nightmare before it began

tw/cws, as needed: implied attempt at SA (thwarted by the Reader before it began)

You sit there staring, the body lifeless on the floor. The Reader places the chair they've beaten the other to death with back, pokes the still form with a foot, head tipping to the side slightly.

"What the fuck," you say.

It hits you then: this is a dream--

The world sharpens.

"What the fuck," you repeat, with conscious choice and feeling this time.

They look up toward you, and all you can see from beneath the shadow of the large hat that obscures their face is a smile. "Interception."

The emotions swirl in your brain-- fear and grief and horror and relief and gratitude. You stammer out some incoherent thing; the Reader nods.

They're regarding you now, like you're something they're trying to interpret.

"I'm on deck," they say finally, and you feel like you should know what they mean, but you don't. "That's a Parker phrase," you answer instead.

The Reader shrugs. "I'm an echo-- I'm your echo," they say, nonchalant, like it makes sense.

"Uh..."

The Reader waves a hand; one of the many tarot cards that dance around their form comes to gently land at your feet, face up.

You stare--

Ace of Cups, upside down.

Fuck, cups represent emotions, right? Water. Ace ... one, beginnings? You're really not that great at reading tarot at all. The Reader watches patiently as you pick up the card and mumble.

Finally, they step over closer and take back the card as they say gently, "Your voice is my voice."

There is so much fondness in their voice. You blink in surprise and confusion; they smile again.

"Sorry, I'm half lucid and very stupid," you say.

The Reader hums-- I'll keep you safe.

And you know that song, because it's one from Central's playlist. And not just Central-- your archetype F/O iteration, who is your romantic fictional other.

"Oh, shit," you say, because that means this is your Reader-- not in a fictionkin sense, but in ...

Your eyes well up with tears. "Did you-- did you know I needed help?" Your voice cracks, your body trembles.

They gingerly remove the sunset colored shawl they have draped around their shoulders and lay it around yours, softly patting you on the side of the arm.

You can barely see now through your crying. "We don't even know each other well yet," you say shakily. "I haven't even made it official...."

The Reader takes one of your shaking hands in theirs, carefully carefully, like they'll drop it and the entirety of you will shatter.

"I want you to feel okay," they sing as they lightly kiss the back of the hand they're holding. "...I want you to wake up tomorrow and fight another day."

You're bawling now.

The Reader steps over the memory of your assailant's body and sits on the bed, opens their arms to you, and you cascade into them, the tears hot down your cheeks and your throat tight.

"You deserve a say," they murmur. "Don't give up."

"...Seriously, are you Parker now?"

Somehow, you're able to tell they roll their eyes, and can't help but laugh.

"I think I get it, though," you manage, "you can't... you're not able to speak on your own, because you're..."

The Reader nods. "Weak reverberation."

"Maybe you'll be able to talk with your own words later on," you muse. "That's be nice..."

You lean back a little, peeling away from where you're pressed into their shoulder neck area, and rub at your face. They are still holding your hand.

"...Reader," you say slowly, "did I will you here?"

They smile, a smaller shrewd thing now, before they bring you back into the hug as they say, "I'm always here." They pause, give you an affectionate look. "Don't worry - we're in equilibrium."

Their gaze drifts to the body on the floor. "...It's okay if you're scared," they say after a moment.

You swallow back new sobs. "Honestly rather terrified... no, I'm not okay."

They make a motion with their head toward the body; their hat tips a little and absently you reach out to adjust it, make sure it doesn't fall. The Reader makes a little pleased noise as you do and then presses another tarot card your sternum. "Have hope," they say.

"I'm just Wyatt Ma--"

You cut yourself off from the sing song words as you examine the card they dealt. The Star.

You look up at them. "You really think so?"

They nod sternly.

Your eyes cast down. "I wish I was so sure."

"Listen," says the Reader, "you're learning."

You lean closer into them; they sway you back and forth a little. Because you will it, realize you have that power here, and they have none at all, the body sinks into the floor and disappears.

"Thank you," you say. "Gotta make sure to say it properly-- we don't have much time left, I think."

The Reader cocks their head questioningly.

"This'll end," you explain. "Usually anything nice like this stops pretty soon after it starts-- no telling where I'll end up next, but it won't be soft."

"Love you," they say. "Remember that."

"I'll do my best."

The last thing you see is their smile.

(When you rise back to awareness, you're in the between, the realm of half-wakefulness, the pitch dark empty and the Reader is nowhere--

But their shawl remains, still on your shoulders.)

[val-creative]

Fictober Day 27 'let me remind you'

Jace/Cregan (House of the Dragon/Fire and Blood)

For @fictober-event Day 27 prompt!

Type: Fanfiction | Fandom: House of the Dragon (TV) | Ship: Lord Cregan Stark/Prince Jacaerys Velaryon | Warnings & Triggers: SPOILERS FOR F&B NOVEL. Blood, Horror, Suggestive Themes.

---

In the middle of the long, starless-dark night, Cregan wanders. The men are exhausted. They dare not venture further into Harrenhal.

"Lord Stark..."

A whisper, sweeter than summer's memory, accosts him.

"Begone," Cregan rumbles out, not looking behind him, approaching the old weirwood tree. He notes the sword slash-marks in pale bark. Bright red tree-sap dribbles down. As angry, bleeding wounds would.

Lurking out of view, an unknown spirit haunts Cregan's footfalls.

"Come lie beside me. Come rest. We denied ourselves once before."

"Do not anger a man beyond his reasoning. I said, begone."

"Lord Stark, I never confessed my truest of longings... I pleasured mineself and thought only of your hands... alas, the fear held tight..."

Cregan sets his jaw, glaring at the weirwood's bleeding bark. "I will not hear it," he proclaims. "I will not... I will not hear these deceptive and ill-mannered words off of a pretender's lips. You wear the face of one I loved. You make mockery when you should heed caution."

Behind him, the air ripples. Cregan sees it. Cregan sees Prince Jacaerys's young and handsome features, grey as lichyard soil.

It is not... Prince Jacaerys rots at the very bottom of the Gullet...

"An oath was made in mine and mine queen's name, ser. Your oath as a Stark. Your life to defend our cause. It is why you march to King's Landing for green blood. Let me remind you of all of our longing..."

In the recesses of Cregan's mind, Prince Jacaerys lives there. Smiling under the snowfall. His cheeks tinged red from Winterfell's bitter bite.

Gritting teeth, Cregan unsheathes Ice. The blade, wide and made of Valyrian spell-forged steel. He turns to swing powerfully, to cut apart the forces of destruction plaguing him. Unexpectedly, all goes quiet.

Cregan listens, breathing hard and open-mouthed. His brow damp.

Not a stirring of air.

Harrenhal, and all of its unnatural breath, remain silent in observation as Cregan returns grimly to the encampment of his Northmen.

[orangeclassidy]

[thiswillbecomesomething]

All Because of a New School

↣ Once upon a... Cinderella story (5/7)

Day 19. 'This is getting ridiculous'

Steve Rogers x Reader - Cinderella never thought she was wanted, she just wanted to spend one good night away from home.

Masterlist | Fictober | Once Upon A...

[powerpayback]

the ‘stop letting me inflict trauma on emery’ campaign

[the-write-thing3]

"It's been a long time."

Weirdmageddon hadn’t destroyed Gravity Falls, miraculously, even the gnomes were left back in their proper place. The people are the ones who would have to rebuild: no more time travel, no memory guns, no deals. The community of Gravity Falls would have to deal with the horrors of what Bill did to them by themselves. But they wouldn’t be alone, they all had each other. It wasn’t unheard of for someone to stop and shudder at the nightmares that were their reality. Someone always stepped it to ease their pains—part of the charm of why he moved here all those years ago. A small town love for each other, mixed with the beautiful Oregonian scenery. Ford didn’t get to know Gravity Falls very well, not like Stan or Fiddleford. 

Guilt began to bloom as the thought of those two men unfolded. Stan had built the portal, brought him back, and sacrificed himself to save the world. Guilt turned into shame as the thought of Fiddleford came front and center. How could he have let his friend become - that? They had already made the man a back brace, but Ford knew where the blame lay. It was all his fault. The degradation of Stan’s entire life is his fault. The degradation of Fiddleford’s entire life is his fault. A familiar slap on his back knocked him out of his shame spiral.

"It's been a long time, Stanford!" 

He is handed a cold can with a pink label. 

"So it has, Fiddleford. Tell me about your son."

Ford helps the man sit down next to him and he listens to his old friend for hours. Some moments are more promising than others. Moments where his eyes sparkled like they did, decades ago. Then it would be as if someone flipped a switch and Fiddleford was no longer him, but “Old Man McGucket.” It was another reminder of what he’d done, more proof of his selfish actions. But somehow, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket had forgiven him. Feeling the frailer man lean against him as the sun set, he hears the man call the view as pretty as a peach. 

"It's been a long time, old friend." 

---------

Thank you for reading everyone!!

I am 100% looking for ship suggestions for future fictober2024 prompt days, so if you want to read something, comment or message me and let me know! Right now I'm super into Gravity Falls and Hamilton.

[ao3feedzukka-blog]

Its not too late to be kids

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59460178 by AttentionSpanOfGoldfish Sokka knew that Zuko had a hard time with all that royal stuff. He also knew that he needed an outlet - he needed time to be normal. So, together, they found a way. Unfortunately, Zuko seems to be unable to stay out of trouble. Fortunately - sometimes said trouble can be the best thing that can happen. For various reasons. Fictober2024 day 4: no, we’re not doing that Words: 2352, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Fictober 2024 Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender (Cartoon 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar), Fire Nation Citizen(s) (Avatar), Original Characters Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Fire Nation Citizen(s) & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) & Original Character(s) Additional Tags: Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Protective Zuko (Avatar), Abuse of Authority, Identity Reveal, Fictober October 04, 2024 at 03:16PM