#I should uhhhh figure out that tag if I’m gonna keep doing these

[mj-slenderman]

Day two - encyclopedia

[katara0524]

Impromptu Ramblings about the NEO:TWEWY Demo

In case y'all weren't aware, I've been a pretty big fan of TWEWY for a couple years now, and with the sequel coming out next month, the excitement I feel for this game is greater than ever :) I played the Demo for the first time yesterday, and following a couple views of some livestreams of others playing it, I felt like sharing my (very ramble-y) thoughts prior to the release of the full game. This post WILL contain spoilers for both TWEWY and NEO:TWEWY, so if you want to avoid those from now on, please block the tags: #twewy spoilers, #ntwewy spoilers, #neo twewy spoilers, #ntwewy, and #neo twewy ^_^ Oh, and if you wanna keep up with any other posts I make about my experience with this game, please refer to the tag "kat plays neo twewy" :)

-First things first: I have not watched the Final Trailer and I don't plan on doing so to avoid spoilers, especially after the pre-release era of KH3 where a lot of the later trailers spoiled a lot of the endgame content. That being said, I've seen some minor screenshots from the final trailer including what many believe to be characters from the original TWEWY, namely Shiki and Joshua. That is all I know about the Final Trailer and I would very much like to remain as blind as possible going into NEO :)

-The very first cutscene was quite ominous in the sense that this game is likely going to be about "changing fate" (a recently common theme in Squeenix games, which I do appreciate), perhaps leading off from the end of A New Day in the OG and trying to stop an Inversion of Shibuya. Also worth noting that A New Day had similar aspects in which the main character experienced "future visions" of tragic events, although in A New Day these events were not able to be changed, while in NEO it seems like one of the main "powers" our protagonist has is specifically to rewrite these events and avoid a "bad ending." Very interesting indeed!

-I really like the revamped comic book style dialogue scenes, it's much more fluid and modern, which is an excellent direction for the series to take!

-I would love to have an actual PokemonGO knockoff of Final Fantasy creatures, please Squeenix that would be incredibleeeeee

-Also the LINE stickers??? Are so cute???

-I would just like to point out that Fret is an absolute treasure throughout this entire demo, he's hilarious and I will protect him with my life

-UHHHH don't like that Fret picked up some Reaper Pins just out of nowhere.....or the fact that they're apparently popular all over Shibuya.............did y'all not learn anything from the OG game or what lmao

-Okay so when I first got the "curry or ramen" scene and heard NPCs talking about the new curry place replacing the old ramen place I became IMMENSELY distressed that Ramen Don was totally cut from the game because....well, Ramen Don is a King okay?? But I'm glad to learn that no, he didn't fall off the face of the earth, he's still in business and he's the one opening the curry restaurant lolol. PHEW, crisis averted!

-.....I don't like the sudden appearance of a Wall Reaper and being able to read NPC thoughts. Wtf happened when they left the ramen place??? Are they playing the Game alive somehow?

-Okay so I have my own theories about this "Swallow" character and what they're up to but considering this is only the Demo and I still Have No Idea What's Happening, I'm just gonna say that I think Swallow intentionally led Rindo and Fret to the Crossing so they could join the Game. I mean, add in the fact that Swallow still communicates with Rindo during the Game and you've got yourself a suspicious character right there lol

-"Hey they're shooting off fireworks!" Fret honey that's not fireworks oof (see also: "*laughs* I'm in danger")

-WOOOOOO way to traumatize Rindo right off the bat like that LMAOO

-The visuals for the intro are VERY GOOD, the song is pretty decent until it gets all "screamo" (which I absolutely cannot stand sorry lol)

-Shoka is every Customer Service employee ever and I respect that

-Susukichi went from being "meh" to "WOW THIS GUY IS FUN" in the span of 10 seconds and I also respect that (he is also built like an Absolute Unit which is hilarious)

-The Wall Reapers (and just Reapers in general) seem.....way nicer and more helpful this time around?? Like in the OG the Wall Reapers were SO RUDE gfhjgjdfkhn and yeah I'm sure we'll get some like that but the juxtaposition of the first Wall Reaper in the OG compared to the first one in NEO is insane.

-The puzzles are quite a bit more entertaining this time around even if it's generally the same "fetch quest" formula lol

-"Rindo's Group" way to go Fret HFKJDGHSDFKJ mans really left the default name in there lmao

-OKAYOKAYOKAY so to those who aren't aware I am a MASSIVE SIMP for Sho Minamimoto, he's my absolute favorite and I think about him daily. HIS INTRODUCTION IS. INCREDIBLE. I LOVE IT SM.

-GOD hearing him actually SPEAK FULL SENTENCES is just SO SURREAL I love this sm

-Also the remix of his theme???? NEO TRANSFORMATION????? IT'S SO GOOD????????? It's like gone from a Boss Theme to a more triumphant sounding theme and I am HERE for it (every version of Transformation is just INCREDIBLE and getting a new one is even better)

-I Love Him, Your Honor

-Also idk how exactly but it's kinda weird seeing Sho in the OG vs NEO, cuz while he's mostly the same Insane Math-Obsessed Catboy, he's.....calmed down quite a bit?? Like OG made a whole point of how poorly he cooperates with others (not to mention just being completely unhinged and trying to kill everyone), whereas here in NEO he's......actually kinda working with others??? HELLO???? Sir what happened to you and Neku during those 3 years I would love to know all about it

-I guarantee you Sho is still probably scheming shite and will likely pull some total insane BS later down the road, and I am very much looking forward to that. Also, is he looking for a certain Pin or something??? Cuz he keeps talking about different Pins and even mentions "this is just another Psych Pin" like he's actively looking for a Pin to do something with. Maybe it also has to do with the "latent powers of Players" thing he mentioned as well??? What is this dude UP TO oml (also is he in contact with Neku at all?? they're both technically fugitives at this point right?? WHAT HAPPENED AFTER A NEW DAY I AM BEGGING YOU)

-I seems like Sho ALSO has an idea of what's going on in this specific game (even if he won't admit it straightforward). Per his quote "The game's 142,857. Factor it out," he's essentially saying, "This game is a neverending cyle, figure out how to get out of it" (or at least that's what I got from his "cyclic number" nonsense lolol)

-I do like how Sho mostly stays out of sight until he's needed for a battle or assisting with a mission, that's kind of on par with his whole "uncooperative" quirk from the OG, plus he might literally have to stay out of sight of other Reapers and Players considering he's likely breaking the rules of the Game (not surprising considering him and Neku broke practically every rule in the book during OG)

-The nicknames for Sho- I can't- They're so FUNNYYYY GFHJSDFKJ

-He goes from being called "Pi-Face" and "Tabooty" in OG to "Mr. Minami" and "M-Teezy" in NEO LMAOO

-(Wowee I just realized I've been mostly talking about Sho oopsies sorry y'all, this is what I meant by thinking about him almost daily he is THAT much of a fav of mine ghfkjsd)

-Okay RIP Fret and Rindo for not getting literally ANY explanation as to how the Game works OOF, that is kinda cringe that whoever gets the Pin earns points, not whoever erases the Noise (which like I understand but also URRRGGHHH I WANNA SEE THE SQUAD SUCCEED)

-"I should be going home now it's getting late" Oh you sweet summer child-

-Also love the mention of parents in this game???? KH you could learn a thing or two from TWEWY (poor Rindo's mom fhgjkdh)

-KUBO IS HILARIOUS I SUPPORT HIM AND HIS GROSS FACE (also thank you Final Trailer thumbnail for spoiling my suspicions about him very cool smh)

-Kaie is a LAD I also support him, go King type those funky texts I believe in you

-FRET PLS STOP SCANNING FHGJKSDHKJFGHFKJ he's like me when I scan in OG during Weeks 2 and 3 and see Taboo Noise coming after me ghfjdshfj

-Also Rindo can you stay off your phone for TWO SECONDS ik you're trying to figure things out but Fret is a jelly boi and I don't want him to be upset with you my guy

-Sho being an actual sorta mentor to the kiddos?? Who are you sir this is so unlike you ghfgskj what happened to the guy who tried shooting children in the face 8 times over LMAO (granted he's probably just using them but it's still nice to see him actually cooperating and sharing knowledge with the kiddos aaaaa)

-EYO EIJI OJI THE TIKTOK INFLUENCER IS BACK LMAO

-hgjkfshgkjf "we aren't glorifying capitalism on my watch" THATS SO FUNNY TO ME GFHJFSDGHJKS (also an all-orange ensemble is disgusting you deserve jail for one thousand years fkn Cheddar Goldfish Cheezit ass woman)

-WICKED TWISTERS NAME DROP EYOOO we love to see it

-gfhsgjf Poor Rindo embarassing himself for the sake of the Game that's incredible

-R e t u r n t o M O N K E. That is all.

-Dialogue during boss battles is HELLA cool i love that

-HHHHH THE KANON SCENE MADE ME A N G E R Y FRET STOP SIMPING MY GUY says the girl with a Literal Simp Encyclopedia and simps for pixels on a screen daily

-Can't wait to see the other Reapers :eyes emoji:

-CAN'T WAIT TO SEE NAGI MY BELOVED YEAHHHH WOOOOOO AAAAND that's about it for the demo lolol, I absolutely CANNOT wait for next month, this game is gonna be INCREDIBLE holy hell Prepare for more simping, more screaming, and more vibing from Yours Truly :) I fully intend on sharing more general thoughts like this on both Tumblr and Twitter so it's not just reblog-retweet-reblog-retweet with the occasional comment fhgskjd

If you wanna witness my insanity up close and personal I have a Square Enix Discord server called Sea Side Dreamers! You can look it up on Disboard, or you can add me on Discord @Katara0524#9244 for a direct link :) We have topics about Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, NieR, and ofc TWEWY (as well as other topics!), so if you want some good ol' chaos and chitchat, you're more than welcome to join!

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (4)

Hi everyone! Sorry this came late! I was soooo busy this week that I had to push this chapter back but I’m hoping to drop chapter 5 on Friday next week like normal. As listed in the warnings, this chapter has some heavier topics than the other 3 but the scene is relatively mild and not too descriptive. 

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2808

Warnings: Mentions of verbal s*exual harassment, mentions of fighting/injury, strong language, angst 

% approximately the last weekend in September %

You sat at the back of the team bus on the way to the hotel, since the tournament was all day Saturday. You shared a row with Julia and was working on some calculus homework and listening to music while she talked to someone across the aisle.

When you finished, you took out your headphones and looked over at her. She was now playing on her phone.

“Hey, do you wanna bunk together tonight? I don’t feel like sharing a bed with Emily this week.” you whispered, making sure the freshman sitting a few rows up couldn’t hear you.

“Yeah sure. I was actually gonna ask you the same anyways.”

You were one of only two seniors on the team, so you and the other senior, Anna, were asked to split up and chaperone the girls whose parents weren’t coming to the tournament. Both of your rooms had three other people.

Once the team got checked into the hotel, you all went to dinner at a nearby chain restaurant where you, Julia, Anna, and a few other girls sat at a table together joking around.

After dinner, the team headed back to the hotel and were allowed to either hang in the lobby or your rooms, so long as you weren’t disruptive and stayed in pairs. You stayed in the lobby for a while but decided to go prepare for bed around 10.

Julia tagged along as your buddy, not saying much as you rode the elevator up. 

After changing and brushing your teeth, you sat at one corner of the bed looking into a wall-mounted mirror as you combed your hair to pull it into a braid. Julia had been watching the TV when she piped up.

“Hey, y/n?” 

“Yeah?” you didn’t look back at her.

“What’s going on between you and Tom?”

You paused mid-braid, then continued. 

“What do you mean?” your brows furrowed as you finished off the braid, wrapping the end with a hair tie.

“It’s just… you guys have seemed super close lately, and Sam said you’re at their house pretty much every weekend now. I thought you guys hated each other or something.”

You turned your body to look at her.

“Uhhhh we definitely still hate each other. We’re just partnered up for this semester-long marriage project in home ec. It’s whatever.”

“Oh. Okay then. It just seemed like something else I guess.”

Something else?

“Wait, what are you trying to say? Do you think we’re, like, dating or something?”

“Well you guys go to almost every one of each other’s games. And Sam said their mom loves you so it just seemed like… I don’t know.”

“Whoever thinks we more than hate each other is wrong. Just the idea of him and I together grosses me out so much. Once this semester is over, he and I probably won’t speak to each other again until the day I’m chosen valedictorian over him.”

“Okay, well, I’ll let Sam kn-” 

She was cut off by the sound of the door opening as the two freshman girls who were taking the other bed came in giggling.

Glad to finally be out of that conversation. 

After a few more random conversations, you all decided to go to bed and rest up for the tournament early the next morning.

It’s when you rolled over onto your side to face the wall that thoughts of your conversation with Julia began racing. Did people really think something other than a fake marriage was going on with Tom?

Exhaustion got the best of you before you could dwell on it further.

%

You sat in calculus Monday morning listening to the announcements. Your name and a couple others were listed off from the winning sports. The team had won, and you’d gotten tournament MVP.

The class congratulated you, so you jokingly did a royal wave around the room, stopping to look at Tom.

“That’s how it’s done. You guys may have won too, but I think I beat you out this time.”

“Yeah, good job.”

What. Why was he congratulating you?

“Uhhh. You don’t have anything else to say? No insult, no witty clapback? Who are you and what have you done to the Tom Holland I know and hate?”

He shrugged.

“I just don’t have anything negative to say. I mean, you got MVP and the team won. That’s pretty impressive.”

Now you knew something was up. In all your years of knowing Tom, he’d never been this nice. Sure, he’d sometimes say “nice shot!” when you scored more than one goal in soccer but he usually was able to find a way to pick on you at the same time.

You were working on a new sewing project in home ec later, sharing what happened with Alexis.

“Maybe he’s just not feeling well or something? He probably just couldn’t think up something fast enough,” she suggested.

“You don’t get it, Lex. It was so not like him. After Thursday, and what Julia said Friday night, something weird is going on, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” 

Wondering if anything was out of the ordinary with him now, you looked over to where he was, only to find him looking back at you.

Weird.

In senior art that afternoon, you worked on an acrylic beach landscape you’d been doing with a palette knife. 

You were listening to music and intently focused when you felt a presence loom over you and noticed a hand resting on either side of you.

You ripped out an earbud and turned to see Tom leaning over your seated position, looking at your artwork.

“What the- Tom! What in the hell are you doing?” you pushed him off you and he stepped next to your chair, arms folded over his chest.

“Just looking to see how you were doing, princess. I think it needs a sailboat.”

“Okay first of all I’m not even done but like… why were you leaning over me like that? I was kinda in my zone there.”

He uncrossed his arms and pointed one had around the canvas.

“Well I was mostly coming over to say you had a little something right,” he poked a finger from his other hand onto your nose, leaving a dot of paint, “there.”

“Thomas Holland. If you don’t get the hell away from me and my artwork right this second I will literally beat you up in front of this entire class. You know it’s true too.” you threatened through grinding teeth.

“Are we having a problem over here?” your art teacher interjected, causing you to both look at her. You pointed at your nose.

“Mr. Holland here doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

“Tom. You know how I feel about messing around with art supplies. Now go sit down, you still have a lot to go on your own painting.”

He sighed and headed back to his seat. 

“Y/n, why don’t you go wash that off real quick. I’ll keep an eye on your canvas for you.”

You got up, brushing past Tom. First, he’d been super nice this morning, and now he was putting paint on your nose like a little kid? 

It was infuriating to think about.

Wednesday, it was like he was even worse.

He flipped between being the nicest guy ever to trying to humiliate you every chance he got. 

The final straw was during your free period when you’d typically have volleyball practice (it was a game day). You’d walked by some of the football team who were practicing on the field and some players tried to catcall you, yelling disgusting sexist comments and whistling. Instead of sticking up for you, Tom just looked at you sheepishly as they laughed.

You just stuck up a middle finger and kept walking, as you were running errands for your volleyball coach and didn’t want to be too long.

After school, you stormed out of the school building and caught sight of him leaning against his car talking to a few of the guys from before as his brothers stood around nearby.

When you were about 20 feet away when you yelled out at him.

“Hey Tom! What the hell?”

His conversation paused and he turned to you. The other guys laughed and waved him bye as you approached.

“I’m sorry, but what?” he asked when you reached his car. You tossed your volleyball bag onto the asphalt.

“What is wrong with you? First you’re super nice to me, then I catch you staring at me in class and then the whole paint thing, and that was just Monday. Then today you flip from nice to asshole, and just sit idly by when your friends fucking harass me!?”

“I was just messing around like we always do! And come on, it was just a whistle and a couple jokes, y/n.”

“That’s the thing! It’s not just a whistle or a joke! Call it that when you read the countless stories of women who are attacked for simply ignoring a guy or trying to stand up for herself! I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOU AND EVERY OTHER MAN FOR SOME SIMPLE RESPECT!” you were yelling and breathing hard. “I guess I thought that after the past few weeks we had come to some kind of an understanding, but apparently I was wrong. You’re still the biggest asshole I know.”

“Y/n, please. You know I would never do anything to actually harm you, right? I’ll talk to the guys and figure it out. I mean, what else do you want me to do?”

“Maybe we should get a ‘divorce’ on this stupid project. It’s obviously not working out,” you spat.

“I- okay.”

You were taken aback. Did he really just agree?

“Okay? That’s all you have to say? You really want to go through with it?”

“Well, if it’s what you feel is best, I’m not going to stop you from talking to Mrs. Flynn.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see what she wants us to do.” you said, much more calmly.

With that, you picked up your bag and walked off, wanting to cool down before your game.

“Damn, Tom. That’s rough,” Harry said once you were out of earshot.

“Yeah, dude. You should’ve stood up for her. That’s not cool,” Sam added.

Tom hung his head for a minute, not sure what to think, then straightened up, shaking it angrily. 

“You’re right. She’s right. I need to find those guys.”

%

Things had cooled down for you by the time you’d eaten a snack and hung out with some of the team for a little bit. You didn’t tell anyone what had happened, but by the way Julia kept looking at you, you figured Sam had told her.

An hour before game time, you went to go put on your kneepads and volleyball shoes. As you passed through the gym, Julia hopped up from her seat next to her boyfriend and rushed up to you.

“Whatever Sam said, I’m over it now. I’m just going to channel it into the game” you told her before she could get a word out.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Sam said you seemed pretty shaken up.”

“Look, jules, I know you’re trying to help, but now isn’t the time. I just need to focus on one thing at a time, okay? Let’s just win this and then maybe later we can talk.”

You sped up past her to where the group was in a circle, already doing stretches. You felt bad for blowing her off, but you had other things to worry about.

%

Your team lost the first set for the first time all season. You just couldn’t get your head in the game. You had fumbled a few sets and sent your hand into the net while hitting not once, but twice. You’d even sent a serve straight back to the wall on the other side of the gym.

You were now sitting on the bench listening to your coach yell at you, taking it all in. You were looking at her directly when a figure coming through the door caught your eye. It was Tom.

You tried to pay attention to coach, but the second she turned her attention to someone else, you glanced at him sitting by his brother. 

His lip was split and he caressed one hand in the other. His hair was also all over the place and one cheek swelled slightly.

Did he get into a fight?

Even though you were still mad, something inside you appreciated his presence. You also felt concerned, but obviously couldn’t do anything about it from the bench.

You instead decided to do what you knew best, which was win. The team came back in the end and did just that. A few people were congratulating you when you saw Tom and Sam leave the gym.

“Uh, sorry guys but I need to go do something. See y’all tomorrow though!” 

You jogged into the hall, frantically looking both ways before seeing them.

“Wait! Tom!” you called, running to catch up with them. They stopped, Tom not making eye contact with you when he turned as Sam watched cautiously.

He looked worse up close. 

Where his cheek had only seemed swollen before, now there was a blue and purple bruise beginning to form, surrounded by pink inflamed tissue. His bottom lip also was red and puffy around the split, and when you glanced at his hands you noticed the darker bruises on each knuckle.

“Tom…” you said softly, scanning him. “Are you okay?”

“What does it matter to you? We hate each other don’t we?”

Sam took that as his cue to go back to the gym, you assumed to find Julia.

You let out a sigh and looked away. 

“I don’t ‘hate you’ hate you. Yeah I hate when you’re better than me at something or you’re acting like a douchebag, but I don’t, like, want you dead or anything. I mean, you know that, right?”

You searched his face for a sign that he was getting you. After a few seconds of him staring at the ground nervously tapping his foot, he replied.

“Well I don’t hate you either! Yeah, you can have an ego and it gets on my nerves, but I’ve always thought we had just a playful hate-love thing. Like… I don’t know... Doofensmirtz and Perry the Platypus.”

You let out a chuckle at that one. 

“That… actually. Yeah. That pretty much sums it up. I never actually wanted to hurt you, and I’m sorry that I did but what you did today was so not cool, man. I thought we at least tried to look out for each other a little bit. That stuff hurts. A lot. Because being a woman means I don’t know when it might cost me more than just being the butt of a joke.”

“I realize that now, and I’m so sorry for trying to trivialize you. I didn’t really think about it in the moment because it’s never affected me. I might be in trouble tomorrow because of it, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, I was so mad at myself. I marched straight over to the guys, who were then trying to laugh about you coming to talk to me, and I just… swung right on Harrison. He’s the first guy that whistled.”

“Tom…”

“And then I may have gone after the other two while I was at it. They tried to fight back, which is why my face looks like this, and I just went nuts. They gave up after realizing I wasn’t gonna back down.”

You tried to hold back tears. You always knew in the back of your mind that Tom cared a little bit, but not like this. One slipped out onto your cheek.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, trying to keep a steady voice. He reached out and brushed his thumb over your tear.

“Yes I did. Who else was going to teach those dickheads, huh? Obviously no one else in their lives have cared to.”

“Well thank you. It means a lot… and I didn’t go talk to Mrs. Flynn after our little spat outside. I wouldn’t mind staying as your ‘bride,’ if you’ll have me.”

He looked at you skeptically for a few seconds then smiled.

“Yeah, alright,” he pulled his necklace from his shirt. “Who else would rub icy hot on my back and make pie with my mom?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of the first one,” you laughed.

After a few seconds, you held out your arms.

“We good?” 

He grinned, taking your offer for a hug and wrapping his own arms around you.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

%

A/N: Thanks for reading! Like I’ve mentioned in the past, this will not be the last of heavy topics and some future scenes will actually be more descriptive, but I will make it explicitly clear where those scene are so you can have discretion. Love you all so much!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson

[mandaloriandy]

Fic Writer Interview

I suppose I should... actually get around to doing this.

I was tagged by @maderilien, @stormwarnings, and @willowcrowned! (that’s what I get for putting off doing this, I get ganged up on.) (I’m just joking, I am very touched that you all thought of me)

How many works do you have on AO3?

49

What's your total AO3 word count?

339,898

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

oh fuck there's so many. uhhhh 32 apparently. big yikes. I'm just gonna copy-paste the list over, that'll be easiest. A lot of these are overlaps but alas such is life

1. Star Wars - All Media Types (24) 2. Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (18) 3. Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types (7) 4. TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms (4) 5. Homestuck (4) 6. Doctor Who & Related Fandoms (3) 7. Avatar: Legend of Korra (3) 8. Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (3) 9. Marvel Cinematic Universe (2) 10. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) (2) 11. The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types (2) 12. Doctor Who (2) 13. Ender Series - Orson Scott Card (1) 14. Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018) (1) 15. Iron Man (Movies) (1) 16. Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (1) 17. Original Work (1) 18. Sherlock (TV) (1) 19. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016) (1) 20. Big Hero 6 (2014) (1) 21. Emelan - Tamora Pierce (1) 22. The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien (1) 23. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga (1) 24. The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien (1) 25. Captain America (Movies) (1) 26. Paranatural (Webcomic) (1) 27. Torchwood (1) 28. Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica (1) 29. Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types (1) 30. Star Wars: Rebels (1) 31. Doctor Who (2005) (1) 32. The Hobbit - All Media Types (1)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

To nobody's surprise, my top 5 fics by kudos are (in order) the first 5 parts to the Jedi Shmi AU.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Oof. I used to. But I ended up spiralling pretty badly uhhhh a couple years ago and had to stop. I feel like I should reply to comments, especially those wonderful long ones, but even though I do this whole writing thing, I always have a really hard time, like, knowing what to say to them? Like "akjsdfk;jf thank you" always feels inadequate, but writing a well thought-out reply takes a stupidly large amount of brainpower, and I'll leave them marked as unread if I want to reply to them and then they just accumulate in my inbox and I end up spiralling again, since it just continues to exist as a mental load of something I have to do and the avoidance just gets bigger and bigger the longer I put it off and–

look, I just get into my own head too much about it. I respond to questions, usually. I love all the comments but I can't let myself overthink it, and the easiest way to do that is to not let myself reply.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I guess Obi-Wan’s Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Life doesn’t count because it... doesn’t have an ending yet? and I don’t know how angsty that ending is going to be. Even Composing Hallelujah doesn’t count because it ends happier than in canon, even though it’s... y’know, not exactly happy-ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've written?

Hahaha I don't do crossovers often, but I have done them, and the craziest one I've actually written is probably my Sailor Moon/Puella Magi Madoka Magica fic. It’s especially crazy because I’ve only seen a few episodes of sailor moon lol

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

lmao YEP

There's this one, like Ender's Game/Doctor Who fic I wrote and posted on FFN back in middle school. And it got a ton of hate, as far as I can tell mostly from the same person, talking about like, how bad and non-canonical and whatever it was. And when I migrated over to AO3, I reposted it there too. This was in like 2012. The migration, at least, the fic was written in... idk, 2010?

And then. In 20-fucking-19.

I got a comment saying "Terrible. Makes zero sense. It’s like the author threw canon out the window and took a shit on it." like lmao what??????

(for reference: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361723?show_comments=true#comments and https://www.fanfiction.net/r/7621672/)

(like what the actual fuck was this person on)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not any that I've been brave enough to post. And… also… nothing that I've actually written more than a few paragraphs on… I keep chickening out. I did recently make a deal with a friend, though, so… we'll see. If I do, it’s probably going to be quite dark, because that’s the kind of smut I like to read.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I sincerely hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! See how the blackbird walks into russian and just recently In all your wanderings into french!!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've tried. It's never gone… especially well? I don't think any of them ever actually ended up complete, they all just petered out after a while.

What's your all time favorite ship?

I don't really have an "all-time favorite" anything, let alone a ship. I'm a horrible multishipper and I'm going to cause problems on purpose

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Sigh. Probably my intricate, 30-something-k unpublished Silmarillion Helcaraxë fic. It has so many moving pieces. I know where most of them end up but it's going to take so much effort to get there

What are your writing strengths?

writing

What are your writing weaknesses?

writing

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Hm. Given that I mostly write fic for SF/F, I don't run into the "real life languages" problem a lot. I end up working with conlangs of various complexity, for the most part, and for those… I'll sprinkle in a word or two if it makes sense, especially swear words and stuff. But for most of those conlangs, grammar is… less well-determined than vocabulary, so I almost never do phrases, let alone full sentences. I'll just put it in italics (if the POV character understands it) or say "and they said something unintelligible in [x language]" or the like.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I think………. let me check the dates on this. I think the actual first fanfiction I wrote was sometime in fifth or sixth grade, for this "Zenda" book series I read?? Either that or Harry Potter.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

A big shout-out goes to The Lichtenberg Figure, which I can’t believe is the only Tamora Pierce fanwork I’ve published, but for my favorite... it's gotta be Messenger. Like, looking back, there is a bunch about it that I am very not happy with, and a lot of things I think didn't come across the way I wanted, and things I would not write the same way now, years down the line, as I have very differently balanced understandings of… well, a lot of these same characters. But, fuck, I just can't let go of Mandalorian!Beru.

No pressure tags!! @apaladinagain @determamfidd @faeymouse @lumateranlibrarian (apologies if you’ve already done this one and I haven’t seen it!)

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

Okay so bc of how Meapless in Seattle would play out in the Relocation AU, Doof would have no reason to drink the liquefied cutonium. Cause he drinks it while trying to deny that he was there on a coffee date with Peter. Everyone is just playing keep-away with the container. (That said, it'd be funny if he DID drink it for some reason bc of the bit where the gang picks up the cutified Doof. They'd probably be like ._. "... That you, Dr. D?")

in general, the entire episode would play out way differently because the a- and b-plot gangs would inevitably end up joining forces. perry would definitely end up knocking mitch and balloony's robot suits around if they dared threaten phineas and ferb. (also i want to know what candace would think of balloony. i'm sure she'd have Words on that whole situation and it'd be super fucking funny to see.)

I should really start tagging posts about this au now... welp, live and learn lmao

Sooooo I’m going to stay up until 3 am waiting for the new Taylor Swift thing to drop on Disney+ so I can watch it with the rest of the fandom on twt, which means I have more than enough time to go off on tangents and I apologize in advance

I definitely think if/when I write this, I definitely want Heinz to drink the cutonium just for shits and giggles, but it didn’t occur to me until you said this that there wouldn’t really be a reason for him to do it, so, naturally, I rewatched the entire episode just to figure out that one scene and because I love that episode and I have a general idea of how it might go down:

It’s kinda the opposite of the actual episode, where it’s Peter and Perry are at the coffee shop and Heinz is outside (idk what he’s doing there tho bc he’s not visiting Peter uhhhhh help), and Heinz does something loud and stupid (probably falls over or something idk he’s clumsy he would totally do it) and everyone in the coffee shop looks out the window to see what happened, and Heinz looks through the window to see if anyone noticed (and they did). Obviously, Heinz sees Perry (and Peter but mostly Perry) and he’s like :))))))) and my original plan had been that Perry runs out to see him and gives him a hug or something cute like that, but my new plan is that Perry actually runs away because he’s afraid that if OWCA finds out that Heinz saw him, he’ll be relocated again and he was just starting to get used to Seattle.

Heinz runs around the building and tries to catch up to him, and he after Too Much Yelling, he finally gets Perry to stop around the same spot they were in the episode (with Peter slowly catching up). Idk what he’s gonna yell but it’s gonna be something really pure and heartwarming ig idk words are hard, but Perry’s gonna freeze and Heinz is gonna run towards him while paying absolutely no attention who his feet whatsoever and whoops he falls in one of the kids’ ditches.

*casual switch to present tense bc there’s literally no reason to write this in future tense*

Perry turns around and looks down at him and he can’t help but smile because he knows he shouldn’t be here but this man is just so freakin adorable and he absolutely remembers why he loved their nemesisship (not that he’d ever forgotten, of course, but it’s hitting him harder now that he sees him). Heinz’s just like “You gonna give me a hand?” (in a lighthearted way obviously) and Perry is absolutely not going to give him a hand because Heinz would end up pulling him in instead, but it doesn’t matter anyways because Heinz makes a really big gesture when he asks and he ends up knocking the cutonium loose. Perry hops down with him to check it out (and Heinz is lowkey offended that he’s more interested in this cup than his ex-nemesis) and then Mitch shows up and he’s like “Hey gimme the cup” and Heinz is like “nu-uh my cup” and Mitch is like “GIMME DA CUP” and Heinz is like “fine, take the cup!” and then downs the cutonium right in front of him out of pure spite and that’s why he ends up drinking the cutonium (and subsequently gets kidnapped by Mitch (after being tossed around like a game of hot potato))

Ngl I don’t really know how the rest of the fic is gonna go at all but you’re absolutely right that things are different so I’m gonna do some spitballing here,

For one, I feel like the kids would stop heading to the Flynn-Fletchers as much because it was just so sad, but for the sake of this fic, we’re gonna say that everyone was at the Flynn-Fletchers when this started so now Buford and Baljeet are there with them. They end up getting hold of Heinz the same way they do in the show, and Phineas absolutely does say “... that you, Dr. D?” (purely because I love when the kids call him “Dr. D” it makes my heart happy). And Heinz is like, “Perry the platypus is here!” and the kids are like 0_0 and even Phineas isn’t quite sure wtf is happening, but The Man Of Action Ferb pushes him out of the way and follows Heinz’s instructions (all while ignoring Meap talking about the cutonium bc this is far more important) and they find Peter and Perry still over by the ditch and someone yells down to them (or, more specifically, to Perry) and Perry looks up and sees them and starts tearing up, and they let him and Peter in and Perry just jumps up into Phineas’s arms (he can’t exactly jump up into Ferb’s because he’s driving) and it’s a very heartwarming moment and Ferb hands Buford his handkerchief and everything and then someone ruins the moment. Idk if it should be Meap being like “Someone wanna fill me in on wtf just happened?” or Heinz being like “Wtf Perry you ran away from me but not them?” but it sure do ruin the moment, that’s for sure

Uhhhh idk that’s all i got on that. I guess Mitch gets Heinz back and then the kids team up with Perry (and Peter this time) and go get him and stuff happens? And there’s a running “gag” ig where Buford is the only one that thinks it’s weird that Heinz drank the cutonium out of spite and he keeps bringing it up and everyone else is like yeah that sure did happen whats your point

Oh my god tho I need the kids to see Ballooney. Literally everyone else would be like “oh no it’s an evil balloon ex-best-friend we should be scared” and Candace is like WHAT THE  F U C K  IS THIS THING and she is the only one to question why the fuck there’s a sentient balloon man there fdhfsjadfhsjkad

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (10)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 2.8k (this chapter), 32.4k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

They try everything. Sophie handles the cameras and phones while Phil and Chris spend way too long cleaning up files on their laptops and doing what they can to get any clear images out of the mess. It's no use. By the time PJ returns from driving Dan home, all they've accomplished is figuring out that the corruption is on their devices, not on the exported files. No matter what they do, the videos and pictures they took have the effect of being scrambled, like someone has pressed fast forward and also put a noise filter over them. The sound is no better - there's a high-pitched sort of ringing in all of the video and audio recordings that Phil can't understand the source of. Some files won't open altogether.

"How does this even happen?" Sophie mutters, bent over Chris' phone with a furrowed brow. "There's nothing left. Like, at all."

"We still have footage from the first night," says Phil. He's trying his very best to stay positive, but this is unbelievably frustrating. They experienced something last night, even if they can't agree on what it was, and they're supposed to start driving back to Brighton before it gets too dark. They don't have time for this. "With the shadow, you know."

His friends make grunts of irritated agreement. Phil knows that all of them are disappointed and a little angry about the lack of evidence for their hellish night, almost like they went through it for nothing, but he doesn't have anything comforting to say.

Phil has never been very good at comfort. He's good at distracting people and forcing optimism, but seeing such visceral emotions from his usually mild housemates makes him want to retreat into himself. He takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes, fighting off a budding headache.

"That's not really enough for a video, though, is it," says PJ. "I mean, you're not going to convince anyone with just a shadow."

"Well, we can't stay to try and get more," Chris says with a little huff.

"I can," Phil points out. He doesn't think he wants to, really, because this whole situation skeeves him out and going back alone would not help, but he needs there to be a purpose to his friends' suffering or he'll never forgive himself. He stares at his unfocused laptop screen, full of files that don't work, and wonders if they're going to bother to try and stop him. "I mean, you guys all have work tomorrow. I don't have anywhere to be. And I kind of want to see this through, so I can, like… take the train home when it's done."

There's a moment of quiet. Phil feels his shoulders tense at the possibility that he's going to have to argue his way into this. It's his job. Plus, he already knows his parents are going to have a problem with him staying longer to investigate, and fighting with yet another set of well-meaning people is more than he wants to do.

"Normally I'd be like, whatever," says PJ. "You know what you're doing and you do this sort of shit alone all the time. But, Phil, how the fuck do you think the paralysis will work if you're by yourself?"

"I won't try to sleep there," Phil decides, shoving his glasses back onto his face. "That's the only time it's happened, right? When people are already falling asleep?"

PJ's mouth twists unhappily, but he doesn't protest further. Phil wonders if he's actually won this argument or if PJ is just too tired from bickering with Dan about cryptids, or whatever they talked about on the drive. Thinking about Dan is a distraction, and not exactly a welcome one. Phil doesn't know how he feels - or even if he should be feeling anything at all - and he doesn't want to add that crisis on top of the one he's already dealing with.

"So you're just going to go there," says Chris. "Alone. And then poke around and go home?"

"That's what I do in most haunts."

"Fair play. Carry on."

It's almost funny how quickly PJ's expression nosedives into aghast. "What? That's it? You're not putting up more of a fight?"

"Why bother?" Chris asks with a little shrug. "He's a stubborn bellend."

"Hey," Phil half-heartedly protests. His friends don't deign to acknowledge it.

"You should bring a sigil with you," says Sophie. Her voice is soft and tired, but her eyes are kind in a way that PJ and Chris don't bother to be. "Why don't you bring something down that you'd have on you, and we'll all put something on it?"

"Really?" Chris asks. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. Phil doesn't know if he thinks the idea is good or stupid, but he nods after Sophie does. "Alright, we can do that."

PJ is looking off into the distance while cogs seem to turn in his head. "Something you'll have physically on you, Philly, since we can't put it on your skin itself. Let us draw on your glasses or jacket or -"

"Knickers," Chris chimes in.

"Or your knickers," PJ agrees, far more solemnly than Phil thinks is necessary.

It doesn't seem like it'll actually help, but Phil feels so much affection and gratitude for his friends wanting to protect him in any way they can that he doesn't argue.

Phil doesn't really like the idea of going to the Wilkins place alone, either, but he's a lot more comfortable doing that than dragging his innocent friends along for the awful ride again. He thinks about Sophie's kind eyes staring up at the ceiling blankly, the way PJ gasped when he woke up, Chris trying to hide his own concern about the situation, and he feels his resolve stiffen even more.

Maybe he is a stubborn bellend. This is his responsibility, though. It's not right for him to keep asking for help. Phil lets the conversation flow to what snacks they're going to get for the drive and thinks about how he's going to break the situation to his parents.

--

It doesn't feel as satisfying to shut the door of his childhood bedroom, now. Maybe it's the fact that he's too mature to slam it, or maybe it's that the room itself isn't the haven it used to be. All the neutral colours and boring pieces of art are like a constant visual reminder that his life isn't here anymore.

He doesn't want it to be here. That isn't the problem. It feels stupid if he thinks about it for too long, but he grew up in this house. He's got scars from the sharp corners of the old furniture and more memories than he has in any other singular location. Sure, it makes sense that his parents are retiring and want to downsize from a big, empty house, but Phil really isn't comfortable with this level of change. He kind of assumed he'd always be able to come visit and feel at home again.

Phil sinks onto the mattress. For a long moment, he seriously considers going to sleep. It's barely past seven, but he didn't sleep well this morning. At least if he's unconscious he doesn't need to deal with the crushing weight of his parents' disappointment and worry.

The decision is made for him when his phone buzzes with a notification from Tumblr.

tell ur parents thanks for letting me stay and tell pj thanks for bringing me home and tell urself thanks for the uhhhh experience lmao its deffo not one im gonna forget anytime soon

Phil huffs a laugh and gets comfortable. You're very welcome. I'll tell them when I come out of hiding.

arent you in a very small car on your way to brighton mate… how tf do you manage to hide in there when youre huge

Oh I'm not in the car, I'm still at my parents' place. It's a long story and I hate typing a bunch on my phone. Phil grimaces at himself for the way that sounds, like he's cutting off any questions Dan might have before they ask. He sends another message. Voice call me on Skype or something if you wanna hear about my no good, very bad day.

He doesn't expect Dan to actually call him, let alone immediately, but Phil's phone starts buzzing with a Skype call before he's collected himself enough to find his headphones. He's still detangling while he answers with a sheepish, "Oh, hello!"

"Hi," says Dan. Their voice is low and amused, and Phil can't believe how nice it is to hear after only a handful of hours.

"I'm woefully unprepared, as per usual," Phil rambles, finally getting his headphones in and grinning at the bland wall in front of him. Nobody is here to judge him for it. "You, er, got home alright?"

"Obviously yes," says Dan. "So, you had a bad day?"

"'Cause you had a bad day," Phil sings back to them. The sound of Dan's giggle makes any embarrassment worth it, he thinks. "Yeah, uh, it was rough. So we wanted to look over the footage from last night to see what the camera caught, y'know, but… I don't know how, I don't have an explanation for it, but everything is corrupted. Our audio, our video, our photos. They're all beyond repair."

There's a few moments of silence, where Phil would think Skype had frozen if he couldn't still hear the faint music on Dan's end. Then, "What? You - what? We don't have anything?"

Phil likes the sound of 'we'. He probably shouldn't.

"We tried everything," Phil explains, his heart feeling heavy all over again at the reminder that they spent hours terrified for nothing. "But the corruption isn't even in the exported files, it's on our devices themselves. Chris' phone, our cameras… they're all fucked."

"If you're swearing, it must be fucking serious," says Dan. Phil wants to interrupt then, explain that his policy on bleeping out curses is more about staying monetized and keeping his parents happy than any personal morals, but Dan has already shot past the topic at the speed of light. "So basically we've got no proof we were ever there, let alone that something weird happened - which I'm not saying is some kind of fucking paranormal shit, by the way, but it was weird - and now you've got nothing to make a video with and I never should have told you about this place to begin with?"

"Dan, breathe." Phil waits until he's sure that Dan is at least trying to follow the directive. "It's okay. I'm glad you brought me here. And that's why I'm still in town - I'm going to get more footage."

"Not alone, you're not," Dan says fiercely.

"Peej and the other Scoobs already went home. I just didn't go with them."

"I don't care where your friends are," says Dan. Phil can almost see their hand waving dismissively. "You're not going back there alone. End of story."

The clear insistence in Dan's voice should be getting Phil's back up against the wall. He hates being told what to do with his own projects, needs to be in complete control whenever possible. Instead, he finds himself thinking that it's sweet of Dan to worry like that.

Christ, but he's got it bad.

"I'm still in town either way," Phil says, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve absent-mindedly. "Which my parents are, uh, not thrilled about."

"Really?" Dan sounds genuinely surprised. "They seem like they really love you, mate."

Love has never been the issue. That feels strange to think, cocky almost, but Phil has never really worried that his parents won't love him. Even with the secrets he keeps from them and their fears about the way he lives his life, the worst he's ever expected is disappointment. That just isn't the way their relationship works.

"Oh, they do," says Phil. "But they hate my job, and they think that it's stupid of me to keep investigating a place that clearly doesn't want to be investigated. They believe in ghosts and demons and all that jazz, y'know, they think I'm inviting evil into my life, so they said they'd let me stay here while I work but that we're going to have a 'serious discussion' about my life trajectory when I'm done."

"Ouch. I'd hate that conversation."

"Trust me, it's going to suck. I just got the preview today, and I already know I'm going to want to run away to Iceland."

There's a beat. Then, Dan says, "At least when you're there you can look into the hidden people. You know, the Icelandic elves or whatever that live in a parallel world. That seems up your alley."

"Your mum lives in a parallel world," Phil mutters.

Dan giggles. The sound of it is soft, like they're aware of their own volume, and Phil remembers that Dan lives in some kind of housing with a bunch of other students. He still loves the sound, so much so that he drifts into a nonsensical daydream of making Dan laugh as much as possible and almost misses Dan's voice coming through his headphones again.

"Since you're still in town," Dan is saying, and Phil makes a conscious effort to tune back in, "you should come by the shop tomorrow. I have an early class, but I'm starting work at eleven."

The prospect of seeing Dan again is such a good one that Phil doesn't even hesitate before he's agreeing. It'll be a bit of an effort to get out of bed early enough to avoid his parents and catch Dan for a good amount of time, but Phil feels like it's definitely going to be worth it. He likes Dan, likes being around them if absolutely nothing else, and the ill-advised butterflies in his stomach aren't enough to make him fall on the side of finding this a bad idea.

It isn't until after he's hung up and getting himself a sandwich so he doesn't have to eat an awkward dinner with his parents that Phil realises he's going to have Dan all to himself tomorrow. Well, to himself and to whatever patrons come into the coffee shop. The force of those warm eyes, just focused on him… it's going to test Phil in a way he's not sure he's ready for.

He turns away from the fridge and almost jumps out of his skin.

"Mum," he complains, free hand clutched to his chest. "Don't just stand there, you scared me!"

A smile tugs at Kath's lips, but her arms are crossed and her eyes are staring into Phil's very soul. He feels cornered all of a sudden, like he ought to be clawing for escape.

"Philip," she says, all warmth. There's that slight edge that he remembers so clearly from mishaps as a child, but for the most part it seems like she isn't here to lecture him. He imagines that's going to come from both of them. "This thing that you insist on doing… it's dangerous. You must know that, love."

Phil doesn't actually know that. For the most part, his career hasn't given him anything but boredom and a complex about his own creativity. It's just the odd cases, the ones like the Wilkins house, that get him squirrelly.

"I know, mum," he says anyway. It isn't worth the argument. "But this is my job."

"It doesn't need to be," she presses, and Phil realises that his assumption was very, very wrong. They're going to divide and conquer. She continues like she hasn't noticed the way his whole body is tensing up. "You have such a wonderful mind and loads of ambition, my dear. And that imagination! Gosh, you could do anything that you set your mind to."

Anything he set his mind to - if he actually tried. Phil can hear the words that she isn't saying, that his dad will have no trouble voicing later, and he feels the familiar burn in his throat like he's going to start crying.

He won't. He doesn't cry much, as a rule, but he's well-acquainted with the sensation of holding it back.

"I know that I can," says Phil quietly. He looks down at his sandwich. He isn't very hungry anymore. "Mum, I'm not - I don't do this because I - you know, I like my job."

That's not exactly the truth anymore, but Phil is also well-acquainted with the art of lying to his mother. She doesn't need to know about the doubts that plague Phil, the way that he's felt like he's slogging through videos until they catch his interest properly. That's something he can figure out on his own. He forces his eyes back up at her to drive the point home with a sincere, pleading sort of look.

Her mouth twists, unhappily this time.

"You need to grow up sometime, Phil," she says, so soft that it almost cushions the devastating blow of her words.

Almost.

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

Fic author ask meme

haha so @veliseraptor​ tagged me literally months ago, as in so long ago I have no idea when it actually was, and I didn’t get all my answers typed up until...now. actually a lot of them were typed up a few months ago and then I finally finished this yesterday on the plane home. no, I don’t know why either

Author Name: 100indecisions on AO3

Fandoms You Write For: it's pretty much all Loki at the moment and has been for the last several years. I've written for other fandoms in the past and I have others on my WIP list, but yeah, it's like 95% Loki.

Where You Post: everything is on AO3, and I do mean "everything" because I get obsessive about that sort of thing. I do still have an FFN account under ladymoriel and most of my fics are reposted there, although none of my most recent fics are because I haven't gotten around to digging up cover images for them. also FFN sucks but I crave attention/validation and there are still some people who only use FFN, so I'll get around to it at some point.

Most Popular One-Shot: for some reason “the state of my head” has 1,157 kudos on AO3, so I guess it would be that one.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: technically “the adventures of tiny Loki and Thor (and friends),” because it’s a multi-chapter fic (boy is it ever) and it has 1,020 kudos, but if we’re talking actual planned fic it would be “the kindness of strangers” at 623.

Favorite Story You Wrote: man, I don’t know. I’m partial to “I am a time bomb ticking away the hours to blow your world apart” because I like my headcanon and I think I structured it well, and “all this that is more than a wish is a memory” gets points for being the longest thing I’ve actually finished. but honestly I don’t know that I have a single favorite.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: haha well I'm sure there's been more than one, but if we're talking about the fic I was most nervous to post, I think that honor would go to my Grandthorki fic "I will kiss you till your breath is found," which is the most explicit AND most fucked-up fic I've written so far. I was nervous about...so many things with that one.

How Do You Pick Your Titles: probably 99% of them are song lyrics. sometimes I'll start with a specific song that's relevant to the fic itself in some way, but I also have a whole list of song lyrics that sound like good titles to me whether the rest of the song has anything to do with the subject of the fic. often I'll come up with a good lyric early in the process, just like "oh yeah I've had this hanging around in my list for ages and it works here"; otherwise, once I've finished or nearly finished a fic (or much earlier, actually, if I'm obsessing over an aspect of writing it that is...not actually writing, which happens a lot), if I still don't have a title I read through my whole list and make a much shorter list of titles that seem to fit this fic. if nothing from there seems just right, I’ll go hunting through my iTunes library and then Google for semi-relevant song lyrics. on occasion, though, the title comes first or otherwise shapes the direction of the fic, like with "I will kiss you till your breath is found"--I had a vague idea of what I might want to do, but it was very vague and I hadn't committed to it, and then I just happened to listen to some Sufjan Stevens and went "heyyyyy I know exactly what to do and it's terrible and I'm gonna do it, I have a title now, I have to do it"

Do You Outline: it depends on the fic. for long ones, at a minimum I'll write a bulleted list of plot points I need to hit, which often ends up being basically two or three pages of a zero draft that I then struggle to turn into actual prose...and then I often re-do the outline at least once or twice as I go along so I can compress it into something more useful that fits on one page and I can cross stuff out as I go. (if a list can’t fit on one page/view, there’s basically no way I can hold all of it in my head at once.) I often end up with shorter lists of scenes I still need to write and specific things to hit during revisions, too. for short fics it's not really necessary, although I often do still write up something similar if I've let it drag out over way too much time and I can't keep straight what I wanted to do with it. (don't be me.)

How Many of Your Stories are complete: welllll, as a rule I don't post WIPs because I know myself well enough to know that that way lies several different kinds of madness, so in general, my only completed fics are what's up on AO3, and everything there is complete. in practice that's not 100% true because I'm very bad at deadlines and I have a few different fics where I couldn't finish in time and I either posted the first chunk of the fic that still functioned as a self-contained story even if it wasn't the full story I'd planned to write, with the intention of properly finishing it later, or I did the same thing but worse because the part I posted was...not really a complete story. in my defense I've only done the latter a couple times, and in the case of "going down to nowhere" I really thought I'd be posting the rest soon because it was all written, it was just extremely rough, and for various reasons I still haven't gotten around to revising and posting the remaining 80% of the fic. (as far as the opposite issue goes, I have 0 finished fics that I haven't posted anywhere, because I'm too obsessive about being complete to do anything else. I think I do have one old, extremely short, very bad Lost fic on FFN that I never reposted to AO3 because I decided it sucked...and if we're being completely technical about it, I have some stories I wrote as a little kid that are technically fanfic because they featured licensed characters, but nobody wants to see those. all the other old stuff I haven't posted, including at least two Neopets fics, never got finished and that's the only reason I never posted them anywhere.)  

In-Progress: uhhhh. well, this made me realize my posted WIP list is out of date, not because I've finished anything on it but because I have MULTIPLE short fics that were supposed to be QUICK so I figured I didn't need to bother putting them on the list and then they weren't quick because I am so fucking bad at 1) sitting down and actually writing and 2) finishing anything. But yeah, basically what’s on there.

Coming Soon: fuck, I don’t know. Half the fics on my WIPs list are ones I thought I could crank out in one or two sittings, AND YET. But I’d like to finish the rest of my Whumptober fic soon, because that one really should be pretty easy...and I’d also like to finish the short little Endgame fix-it I thought of on my way out of the theater, where 2012!Loki hops universes and revives IW!Loki...and then there’s the even older IW/Endgame fix-it that’s basically just “everything is fine because I say so, let’s have a little recovery”, especially because I’m like 90% sure that one’s almost done but probably some of it needs typing up and then it all needs stitching together...oh, and finally getting around to finishing typing one of two notebooks reminded me that the other theoretically short fix-it where the Guardians pick up both Thor and Loki is also nearly done, I just need to finish typing it. so...one of those, probably.

Do You Accept Prompts: in theory, although I...don't think I get prompts often enough to know one way or another? plus my brain is The Worst, so my general reaction to actually getting a prompt is basically "that's interesting but I have never had an idea in my life, ever, and apparently I'm not starting now", with an added element of social anxiety or something because it's Somebody Else's Idea and that puts a mental block on my ability to develop it as my own idea. so...anyone's welcome to send me prompts, with the understanding that I might well never do anything with it and if I do, it might take literal years.

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For: I also don’t know. I mean, in recently typing up some older stuff (like the one where the Grandmaster decides publicly executing Loki sounds like a fun idea, from which I posted a couple excerpts recently) I got excited about those again, which is a good reminder of why I want to stay on top of my typing, but I don’t know if I’m more excited for one specific fic than others.

Tag Five Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions: I have no idea who might have answered this months ago so I’ll just say that if you read this post and you want to answer these questions, please consider yourself tagged. yes, that means you.

[thefactsofthematter]

Sprace and uhhhh theres a house Thats Clearly Haunted and they Have To Find Out

ok i really popped tf off with this prompt and i apologize in advance for how it ends???

1.7k; sprace; modern au; warning for a pretty detailed character death yikes

-

Something weird is going on.

Something really weird. So weird that Spot hopes to God he’s hallucinating, because there’s no way this can be real.

It has to be a trick of the lighting. There’s no way Race’s eyes are actually glowing red. And his skin feeling so damn hot— that has to be because of the cozy jacket he’s wearing.

“I think we should take turns investigating the last room alone,” says Race, interrupting Spot’s train of thought. The echo around his voice must be due to the odd layout of this creepy old house.

They’re ghost hunting, you see. Or rather, they’re trying to prove to Albert and Elmer that’s there’s definitely no demons in this house— Race had been pretty adamant that they could do it. They’ve been wandering around all evening with no sign of anything notable, though Race’s strange behavior might as well be paranormal.

“You first,” replies Spot, trying not to show how unsettled he’s feeling. It’s probably all just his mind playing tricks on him. “Let’s do five minutes each and see if we can find anything. I bet you won’t last the whole time.”

Race grins, clearly up for the challenge. There’s something in his smile that rubs Spot the wrong way, though he can’t put his finger on just what it is.

“You’re on,” says Race, before clapping Spot on the shoulder and taking off down the hall. “I can totally do it, but I bet you can’t!”

-

With Race locked in the spooky old bedroom for a few minutes, Spot now has more time to think the situation over.

He has absolutely no justifiable reason to believe Race is possessed by a demon. The notion of it is completely insane.

But red eyes, burning skin, and that evil-looking smile… they’re not evidence, per say, but they’re signs that Spot would be a fool to ignore. He just has to test the theory— if it’s wrong, he was just goofing around and it’s a funny joke. If he’s right… well, he’s not sure what he’ll do if he’s right.

Carefully, he pulls a tiny dish of salt from his fanny pack, where Elmer had packed him a demon-fighting toolkit. He’ll simply line the doorway with salt, and see if Race can escape. Simple as that. It’s probably stupid and pointless, but it also sort of feels like it might be worth a shot.

-

“Time’s up, Racer! Come out!”

Spot feels incredibly on edge as he waits for Race to come out. He can hear the footsteps coming towards the door and each step is making him even more anxious than before.

Finally, the door creaks open and Race stops short in front of the line of salt.

He looks down at it, and then looks back up at Spot and just stares. Spot swears his heart might pound right out of his chest.

“Race…” says Spot, after a moment, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Come here. Your time’s up.”

Race looks down to the line of salt again. When his eyes flick back up to Spot, the red tint from before is back, and there’s a creepy kind of darkness to his expression.

“I can’t.”

Spot’s heart drops to his stomach and a chill goes straight down his spine. Holy shit, he was right. He swallows thickly and tries to keep his composure.

“Why not?” he asks, watching Race’s expression carefully. “Just walk over here and stand with me. What’s stopping you?”

Race keeps his eyes on Spot, their red glow getting brighter by the second.

“I think you know,” he finally says. He gestures down to the salt with a look of disgust. “You did this on purpose. Do you think this is funny?”

Spot takes a step backwards and his back hits the wall behind him.

“You’re scaring me, Race,” he says, trying incredibly hard to keep his composure. “What the hell is going on?”

It’s silent for a long moment. Spot can hear his own pulse pounding in his ears— his blood pressure must be through the roof right now. His fight-flight-or-freeze reaction is fully activated, and his body has apparently chosen to freeze.

Race eventually sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment and clearly trying to calm down.

“Look, I didn’t want you to find out like this, okay? This… this isn’t fair to you. I never wanted you to see this part of me. We never should’ve come here.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks in a little circle, while taking a few deep breaths. He suddenly stops and whips back around to face Spot, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “How did you figure it out?”

Nothing makes sense right now and Spot is freaking out. Is Race implying that he’s not possessed, but is actually a demon himself? This is so fucked up on so many levels, what the fuck.

“The eyes,” says Spot, finding it increasingly more difficult to talk, the longer he stands here panicking. “They’re red, Racer. Glowing bright red. What does it mean? What are you?”

Race groans and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. He moves like he wants to kick the salt out of the way, but seems to think better of it and continues to pace instead.

“What do you think, Spot!?” he snaps, finally losing his composure. His voice has gone disturbingly deep and it echoes around the room. “I’m exactly what the fuck you think I am! A fucking demon, alright? I’ve always fucking been like this and I didn’t want you to find out because it ruins everything! This stupid place, there’s so many spirits and shit, and it’s making everything worse!” He runs towards the doorway a punches the side of it with full force, which certainly would’ve broken his knuckles… if he were human. He stays there a long time, gasping for breath. When he continues, his voice is much quieter. “I don’t wanna hurt you, okay? I really, really don’t wanna hurt you. I love you.”

Spot doesn’t know what comes over him, but he finds himself nodding slowly and stepping a little closer to Race. There’s something about seeing him so upset that breaks Spot’s fucking heart, even when he should be terrified.

“It’s okay, baby,” he finally says, and the words feel foreign as they leave his mouth. He should be scared. Why isn’t he scared? “Calm down, alright? I believe you. I know you don’t wanna hurt me. I’ll… I’ll move the salt. I trust you, Race.”

Race’s eyes go wide at that, still glowing hauntingly, and he takes a little step back.

“You shouldn’t,” he replies. “You shouldn’t trust me, Spot, after what you just found out. You should leave. I love you so much, but you need to get out of here.”

Spot frowns and takes another step closer.

“I’m not leaving you here,” he says. “You just promised not to hurt me, and I trust you. If you’ve always been like this, it means you’re the same boy I know and love, right? I’m gonna move the salt out of the way, but I want you to calm down first, okay? It’s gonna be fine. Just breathe, Racer.”

-

Race can hardly hear Spot’s voice over the chorus of others echoing in his ears.

Kill him. Kill him. You know you want to. It’s the only way. If you really love him, you’ll take his soul right now. Remember when he said he wanted to be yours forever? You can make that happen for him. You have to kill him. You have to. He’ll never hurt again— mortals are so fragile, you can take that away from him. He’ll live forever with you. He’ll never hurt again.

Why the hell did they come here? There’s so many goddamn spirits around and they all seem to want to have a bit of fun with Race tonight. Why on earth did he agree to go ghost hunting? He thought he’d be stronger than this, but it’s becoming clear that he’s not.

If Spot moves the barrier from between them, Race won’t be able to control himself. He knows that for certain. As soon as that salt is moved, his instincts will take over and he’ll do something terrible. The voices in his head are screaming now, and there’s nothing he can do to stop himself as Spot steps forward and kicks the salt out of the way.

-

Spot screams as Race charges towards him and shoves him up against the wall with force that seems inhuman, the moment the salt line is broken.

Race’s hold on his throat is tight and Spot tries to struggle, but try as he might, he just can’t move. There’s a wicked grin on Race’s face, like Spot has never seen before.

“You said… you wouldn’t… hurt me,” Spot gasps, his breath growing shallower by the second. “Race… I love you.”

Race laughs wickedly and narrows the space between their faces to merely a few inches.

“I said I didn’t want to,” he corrects. “But I have to, Spotty. It’s the only way. You gotta understand— humans are so fragile, darling. So easily hurt. And I love you so much, I don’t want you to hurt anymore. I’m helping you, baby.”

His grip on Spot’s neck tightens, and Spot is seeing stars around Race’s head.

You’re killing me, he thinks, but he doesn’t have the air to say it.

“Hurts, Racer…”

Race sighs softly and uses his free hand to run his thumb over Spot’s lips, shushing him.

“Only for a moment, baby. Then you’ll be free. You’ll be mine forever, just like you promised.”

Insane. Race is totally insane. And all Spot can do is stare up at him with numb, wide-eyed horror until the world goes black around him.

-

Tag list (message to be added):@landlessbud @eponinemylove @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @bencookisagod @auspicioustarantula @neverplannedonsomeonelikeyou @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @backgroundnewsies @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @supremebesson @justasadcryptid @marvels-ninja @aw-jus-let-em-try @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @starrysence @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @r-a-c-e-t-r-a-c-k @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet @asphodelnerd

[sayijo]

A/N: Oh my god I finally finished. Also, @ninjamelissajulien asked me to tag, so, here you go!

Words: Around 3.6k

Summary: Cryptor falls into a frozen lake and nearly drowns.

Warnings: Uhhh like one swear word?

Additional Notes: Uhhhh Tumblr formatting on mobile might be weird

“We’re lost.” Kai grumbled, his voice barely audible. All of them trekked through the snow. The white material was halfway up to their knees, slowing them down by a considerable amount. The sky was a dark grey (and getting darker by the minute), and the wind was howling, sending pellets of snow and hail to rain upon them. He hugged his red thick jacket close to his chest, small flames of fire crackling from in his hair as he attempted to keep himself warm. His loose pants whipped around in the sharp air, and his hair kept falling in front of his eyes, obstructing his vision. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were red from the cold.

They had been visiting Zane’s home in Birchwood forest, before making their way back to the Bounty upon seeing the approaching storm. It was no use. The blizzard had overtaken them after merely five minutes of walking. The wind was deafening and the snow was blinding. “No, we’re not.” Zane answered him, firmly. He stood in the front of the group, alongside Cole, attempting to lead the way back home. He was dressed in his traditional ninja gi, the white fabric basically blending in with the environment, completely unaffected by the cold. His dark grey synthetic hair swayed in the wind, and his bright blue mismatched cyan eyes cut through the darkening sky.

“It’s just been a while since I’ve been back.” Zane continued, his voice calm and reassuring. “I’ll be able to figure this out soon. The falling snow just makes everything look different.”

“Gotta keep moving.” Cole spoke afterwards. The rest of the ninja let out a multitude of annoyed and frustrated groans but followed after the ice and earth ninja regardless. The snow crunched from underneath their feet, their tracks almost immediately being covered by the snowfall. The snow had now fallen all the way up to their knees, forcing them all to struggle against the force of all the packed ice. Every five seconds the wind would die down, before starting back up just as strong as it had been before, blowing snow and ice pellets into their faces. “I’m gonna get frostbite!” Jay shrieked from somewhere behind Zane. He hopped around from side to side, trying to keep warm, groaning internally at the fact that snow was beginning to fall into his boots. He held a phone in front of him, trying to look for a signal so they could contact the Bounty. Frost was beginning to form on his eyelashes, making his eyelids stick together every time he blinked. Zane turned around and looked at him. There was a pause before he shook his head. “No.” He stated. “Your temperatures are at safe levels. For now. No risk of frostbite.” He then proceeded to turn around and started walking once more. Jay inhaled sharply and looked like he wanted to argue, but he ended up biting his lower lip and keeping quiet. He started walking again along with the rest of the crew.

It got silent. It was about 30 minutes of complete agony before someone spoke up once again. “We’re going in circles.” The rest of the crew turned to face the speaker. Cryptor. He looked miserable. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his chin slightly tilted downwards into his chest. The hood of the pullover sweater underneath the black leather hung loosely over his head. The red scarf was pulled over his mouth and nose. His glowing red eyes were dull. “How do you know that?” Kai raised a brow, slowing down his steps so that he could keep in pace with the nindroid. Cryptor had decided to lag behind. “We’ve passed that birch tree three times already.” Cryptor took his hand out of the pocket before gesturing to a skinny white tree about five meters to their right. The trunk basically bent from the pressure of the wind, looking like it was ready to snap. “It’s a forest. Every tree pretty much looks the same. How can you be so sure?” Kai countered, rolling his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe the hair from his face and winced when he brushed his hand roughly against the two studs pierced above his left eyebrow. “Yeah well, you’re not a nindroid, Kai.” Cryptor retorted, narrowing his eye. The fire ninja blinked for a while before he turned his attention back to Cryptor. The wind howled, seemingly cackling as if it knew what was about to come. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kai demanded. Everyone else in the group seemed to pick up on their conversation and looked at the two uneasily. “It means exactly what it’s supposed to mean.” “Oh, what, am I—“ “Anyways, Zane, we need to start heading in another direction.” Cryptor glanced up at the ice ninja leading the group, cutting off the fire ninja before he could get any more words in. Kai looked like he wanted to slap someone. Smoke was probably coming out of his ears. It was beginning to waft out of his nostrils. “Why don’t you lead the way, tin can?” Kai snapped and growled after letting in a sharp breath, and now everyone had completely stopped walking. They stood awkwardly off to the side, unsure of whether to interrupt what was going on. “You know Kai, I’d love to. But since it’s so cold, my navigation has gone hazy.”

“Really?” Kai spat in the most mocking tone he could muster. He threw his head back slightly and laughed, his lips parting to reveal his teeth. “You think it’s okay to tell us we’ve been going the wrong way even though you don’t even know yourself?” “Well, at least I’m helping with the situation. What have you done, huh? All you’ve done is complain. Do you really have nothing else to say?” Cryptor immediately countered back, his entire figure going rigid and his eyes burning a brighter red. Everyone else stiffened up, already knowing that this was going to end badly for all of them “You guys...” Cole asked tentatively, a hint of urgency bleeding in his tone. The wind raged like a pack of hungry wolves, drowning out his voice to a point where it merely sounded like a passing whisper in the breeze. It seemed like the two barely even heard him.

“Excuse me?! I’m not helping? Take a good look at yourself! If you could actually function we’d be able to get out of here faster!” Kai snapped, raising his voice above the winds. Everyone winced, before Jay had to wave his hands madly in an effort to signal Kai to keep quiet.

“Kai, shut up for once in your goddamn life, would you? Every time you talk I get a splitting headache.” Cryptor snarled, baring his teeth from underneath his scarf. He growled a bit, glaring daggers into the fire ninja’s soul.

“Oh look at who’s talking now! I should shut up? Ever looked in a mirror lately? Keep quiet. If you can’t help, then maybe don’t talk at all.” Kai hissed, shoving the nindroid rather roughly. Cryptor stumbled a bit, before glared at Kai, looking angry enough to kill.

“Kai, you—”

“And what’s with the ‘I’m not a nindroid’ stuff, huh? Get off your goddamn high horse.” Kai growled, crossing his arms. Cryptor blinked for a while, before his eyebrow creased in complete fury.

“Okay!” Cole cried out, shaking his hands in an effort to defuse the situation. He had heard enough, and he stormed towards them, planting himself between the two. He reached out and gripped Kai’s left shoulder, and his other hand went to Cryptor’s right.

“We’re all just tired, okay? Let’s put our heads together and think, alright?”

“Not with him.” Cryptor looked off into the distance.

“Yeah, gonna have to agree with you there.” Kai smirked, fixing a glare at the nindroid, who returned the look. Both of them made a move for each other, hands curled into fists, before Cole had locked his elbows to grip them into place. He shook his head, as the crew resumed walking. He dropped his arms but stood between the two, acting as a wall.

Cryptor lagged behind them again, slowing down his pace so that everyone else passed him. He raised an arm to shield his face once the wind picked up. Kai glanced back at him, before he grumbled and began to slow down his trot as well. Cole, however, planted two hands on his back and began to push Kai forward, urging the fire ninja to speed up.

“How’s that signal searching going?” Cole leaned over Jay’s shoulder, looking down at the phone in the blue ninja’s hands. Jay grumbled something unintelligible, his fingers shaking from the frigid temperatures. He had made the mistake of wearing fingerless gloves, and he was absolutely sure his fingers were going to end up being frostbitten.

“Ugh, no luck. I’m telling you, Cole, unless we find a way out of the storm, there’s absolutely no way we’re getting a signal out here.” He stood up on his toes, stuck the phone into the air and waved it around frantically for a bit, as the slight height difference would help their situation.

Nothing.

“We have to keep moving.” Zane muttered from ahead of them. It was difficult to focus on his form, as the raging winds and the snow obstructed their sight to a point where it looked like there was white static flashing across their vision.

“Easy for you to say.” Cole rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Another five minutes passed in silence.

“Shouldn’t we have Cryptor help Zane out? I mean, he does have a navigation system in place, right? Like, I know it’s scrambled, but, better something than nothing, right?” Jay suggested, as if he had just built the courage to speak up. He nervously glanced over to where Kai trudged through the snow.

“Whatever.” Kai shrugged.

“Hey!” Jay called over his shoulder, before he turned to look behind the entire group. “We need you up fr…”

There was no one there.

oOoOoOo

Cryptor walked through the storm. The wind whipped and pulled at his dark clothing, but it didn’t matter. He had his left hand pulling at his hood, preventing the wind from pulling it off his head. He squinted as he attempted to see through the blizzard. His night vision clicked on, bathing his surroundings in a tint of green.

“If you could actually function we’d be able to get out of here faster.” He muttered to himself from underneath his breath, the corners of his mouth curling downwards to form an ugly scowl. His left hand gripped his hood so harshly he was sure he’d end up puncturing the fabric.

His navigation software had basically frozen, leaving a still image of a map in the bottom right corner of his vision. Every else seemed to be working, however.

He hoped.

“And what’s with the ‘I’m not a nindroid’ stuff, huh? Get off your goddamn high horse.” Kai’s voice rang in the back of his mind. Cryptor laughed bitterly, lips parting to show his teeth. The wind picked up even more, sounding like a choir of people screaming. He shivered from the cold, tucking his chin close to his chest and pulling the hood tighter over his head.

“If you can’t help, then maybe don’t talk at all.” He mumbled to himself, attempting to mimic Kai’s voice, the sound muffled from within the scarf. He was angrier than anything else. He forced his way through the wind and snow, keeping his gaze trained to the ground. It was colder than it had been an hour prior, and he let out another involuntary shudder as the temperature seemed to drop.

His eyes settled as he reached the edge of a hill. He looked up, closing his eyes a bit as the wind picked up once again. Once he reopened them, he realized that he had found a clearing in the woods. He could see the dark grey clouds looming overhead, flakes of snow blurring his sight.

A frozen lake lay in front of him, the shore just down the hill.

...They had passed the lake on the way here, didn’t they? So he was going in the right direction. He looked off to the distance, eyeing the shoreline, which was about 500 meters away from him on both sides.

“Too long.” He decided. He stepped forward, and skidded down the hill, his heels digging against the ice and snow that had built up on the slope. He reached the bottom without much of a problem, and approached the shore.

‘Guess it’s time to take the fast route.” He stepped forward, placing a foot on the ice, before he pulled himself ahead and stood on the lake. He looked down at the ice for a few seconds and stomped his foot against the thick glaze that covered the water with the same force a human would be able to generate.

Nothing.

“...Whatever.” He decided, before he started walking.

He made his way forward without much incident. The ice was strong and sturdy underneath his feet, and the soles of his boots were metal, and gripped the ice so he wouldn’t end up slipping and crashing to the ground.

“So that’s just it, huh? You’re just going to leave them?” He thought to himself, listening to the rhythmic sounds of his feet striking against the ice underneath him.

“...No.” He muttered quietly, shaking his head. “I’ll just...find the Bounty. Yeah. And I’ll...go back.”

The words left a weird taste in his mouth, as if he himself wasn’t even sure if what he was saying was true. He shook his head again, trying to drive all the intrusive thoughts away from his mind.

What was he saying? Of course, he’d go back for them.

Right?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sound.

A barely audible click. At first, he thought the ninja had managed to find him. His head whipped to a spot behind him, his eyes darting around to look for anything.

His hand already instinctively reached for a small knife he kept strapped to the inside of his jacket. His eyes only saw the tree line, nothing else.

“Just the wind.” He muttered, but the feeling he felt in his chest told him that it wasn’t the case.

But then it sounded out again.

The ice was breaking.

He let out an angry curse, before his gaze snapped to the ice he stood upon. Hairline fractures engraved themselves on the surface, weaving their intricate designs onto the cold ground. He cursed to himself again, before he scanned his surroundings, looking for a way to fix the problem.

Nothing.

So he turned his attention back to the direction that he was supposed to go.

And he took off sprinting.

He could just imagine the image of himself falling through the ice, crashing into the frigid water and shutting off, drowning—

“No no no no.” He shook his head violently. He couldn’t afford to think about that right now. He couldn’t. His feet slammed against the ice, and the sounds of cracking ice following him as he went. His breathing was ragged, panic gripping him violently.

He could see the shoreline approaching. He just hoped that the ice would hold out for long enough for him make it to dry land. He picked up the pace, his breathing beginning to quicken in panic.

100 meters.

75 meters.

50 meters—

The ground caved in from underneath him with the next step he took. His leg shot through the ice, causing him to trip. His torso slammed into the ice with a strangled gasp, and then the rest of the ice broke, and he was dunked into the water.

The first thing he registered onto was the cold, colder than anything he had ever experienced. Colder than the snow he had felt up until that point. Colder than—

A brief flash, and Cryptor was himself back when the Digital Overlord was trying to take over. The ice crawled its way up his legs, encasing him in a coffin of cold. The burning, horrible, splitting pain that came afterwards— it was too much. Someone make it stop. Someone make it stop—!

He opened up his mouth to scream, and the frigid water came rushing in. He was choking, gasping for air when there was none, dying. He was dying again. Again. He struggled for a sense of direction, unable to tell which way was up.

The second thing he noticed that it was dark. His night vision was basically useless. He looked up and managed to see the broken gash in the ice. He clawed his way to the surface. His right hand broke the water and managed to grasp onto the ice outside, his claws puncturing themselves so deep into the surface that they went straight through.

He pulled his upper chest out of the water, gasping and heaving for air, pulling in as much oxygen as his body would allow. Each breath he took was burning cold, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted to live.

“Shi-shit!” He managed to sputter out. He attempted to heave himself back onto the ice, and planted his left arm onto the surface, before using both arms to drag himself out.

The ice shattered once more, and he fell beneath the waves once again. The cold gripped its hands around his skin, the water dragging him further down, wanting to pull him to his watery grave.

He was losing.

Warning signals flashed before his vision, not doing anything to relieve his stress.

>Body temperature below -20 degrees. Internal heating system failure detected.

>Water detected. Threat of short-circuiting: 37%

>43%. Shutting down all non-essential functions to prevent short-circuiting. Entering low power mode.

He struggled for the surface once more. His movements became sluggish, and a dark, murky blackness tugged at the edges of his vision. He reached for the surface once again, but his fingers couldn’t reach the edge.

“No no no no!!” He screamed, his hands flailing for anything to find purchase on. Nothing. The water was rushing in, and he was dying.

Again.

He strained, but his fingertips hung inches away, and he was unable to produce a short burst of strength to close the distance.

He wanted to open his mouth to scream for help, but he was too busy gagging on the lake water to produce a single sound.

He was dying.

Another flash, and he could see himself perched on top of a tree limb, a chained weapon in his hands. Zane stood in front of him, a sword held in his right hand. A brief fight later, and Cryptor could see the wood of the tree rushing up to meet him. But his own weapon was there, and he let out a silent gasp once the sharp part came piercing through his chest—

He inhaled violently at the memory. More water came rushing in, silencing any sound he made. He struggled again, trying desperately to break the surface. But between his exhausted state and his soaked, heavy clothes, it was impossible.

He twisted his body into a standing upright position, and attempted to kick with his legs to creating propulsion, enough to get him to the surface.

>Threat of short-circuiting: 56%. Leave water immediately. Low power mode initiated.

His legs wouldn’t move. They had frozen into place. The panic was there, filling every crevice of his being. He wanted to cry, but every time he attempted to breathe his chest would ache like someone had stabbed him and twisted the knife deep.

His arm was gone. The walls around him had caved in, trapping him underneath a pile of rubble. He had felt the wires snap and disconnect once he attempted to free himself while his left arm was pinned underneath concrete, the agony working its way up his arm and shooting up into his skull. His teeth were gritted and pained tears streamed down his face. His left side was completely soaked with his blood—

“No.” He growled angrily. This couldn’t happen. He didn’t want this to happen. “You’ve been through all that hell, and you’re going to die here?”

His mind settled on an option. But there was an extremely high risk that he could die from it.

“I’m going to die either way.” He mumbled to himself.

“Override!” He basically screeched from within his mind. This was probably a bad idea, but he didn’t have any other choice.

>Low power mode command terminated. Threat of short-circuiting: 82%.

By some miracle, his body had decided not to fry yet. He reached for the surface, praying that he’d make it. He had to. He needed to.

His hands managed to claw themselves back into the surface.

He broke the surface, gagging and coughing. He dragged his upper chest into the ice and began to retch water, his body attempting to purge as much of it from his system as fast as possible. He let in a sharp inhale, gasping for breath. His breathing was heavy and uneven, but he was alive.

Two strong hands grabbed his arms and pulled him completely out of the water. He could barely even register onto what was happening before a thick blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and someone pulled him in close. It was then that Cryptor noticed that he himself was shaking. Violently.

“Dammit, he’s ice cold! We need to get him inside, immediately!” The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Cryptor was completely overtaken by exhaustion that he couldn’t place a name on it. It was then that he registered into the hum of the Bounty’s engines filling the silent air, the distant chatter and yelling of the ninja.

They had found him.

“You’re okay.” The voice spoke firmly, before the nindroid was completely lifted off his feet, almost as if he weighed nothing.

Cole.

Another pause, as Cole basically sprinted for the Bounty with Cryptor’s body in his arms  

“You’re okay.”

[its-a-spn-thing]

Are You Ready To Talk?

Square Filled: Purgatory!Dean

Title: Are You Ready To Talk? 

Word Count: 3,565

Pairing / Characters: Purgatory!Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings / Rating: 18+ only. Dean is still aggressive and dealing with the ramifications of purgatory.  Bondage. Breaking and entering. Some choking. Spanking. Unprotected sex. Reader gets tazed. 

Summary: Sam and Dean are on a shifter case in your town, and the victim just so happens to be your roommate. Dean is still dealing with the ramifications of purgatory, so when he finds out that you're keeping something from him, he won't hold back to get what he needs.

A/N: This one is slightly a slow build, so I do apologize

Masterlist

SPN Kink Bingo Masterlist

READ THIS FIC ON AO3

“Dean!” Sam shook Dean to try and wake him up from whatever nightmare he was having. “Dean, wake up,” he grabbed his shoulder, “it’s not real.”

Dean ran through the gray forests, blood covered his face and vampires chased him. Once they were too close, Dean turned around and fought the vampires with Benny.

Finally, he woke up and gasped for air. Sitting up, he saw Sam sitting on the edge of the bed. The look on Sam’s face showed nothing but concern for Dean. The night terrors scared him just as much as they scared Dean. He wished he could make him better, but this was one of those things that could only be healed with time.

It had been two weeks since Dean escaped purgatory and wound up in the middle of nowhere with his new friend Benny. The flashbacks were so vivid – as were the dreams. His eyes were still sensitive to light. That was the thing about purgatory. There was no sunshine. Just gray.

“Sam,” Dean yawned and pulled the blankets off, “what’s wrong?” Dean always tried to make it seem like he didn’t remember his nightmares. He hoped he wasn’t screaming in his sleep. He hoped Sam didn’t know.

“Really, Dean?” Sam looked at him and stood up. “You know, I realize that you’re having a tough time with this.”

“With what?” Dean snapped. “What Sam, what am I having a hard time with?” His voice was loud and gravely. He was upset. He didn’t want to talk about it, but Sam could never seem to let it go.

“Forget it,” Sam started towards the door. “I’ve got a case in Colorado. I’ll be back in a few days.”

“No, no,” Dean stood up from his bed, “I’m going with you.”

After a few minutes of protesting from Sam, they finally agreed that he should tag along. They set some ground rules while they packed their belongings into the Impala. Dean was not allowed to talk to witnesses. He was in charge of research, and Sam was in charge of asking questions.

Dean was driving, and Sam was in the passenger side. They were in a small town in Colorado.

“So,” Dean kept his eyes on the road, “what do we got, Sammy?”

Sam looked down at the papers on his lap. “Y/N Y/L/N, aged 24, found her roommate dead when she got home from work.” He looked at Dean and then back down to the papers. “Victims name was Sarah Montgomery, also 24, cause of death asphyxiation.” He looked confused all of the sudden. “Get this,” Sam started, “the fingerprints around her neck belonged to her boyfriend, but he has an alibi.”

Dean shrugged, still focusing on the road. “Could be lying.”

“He was at work, and everyone he worked with that night vouched for him.” Sam responded.

“So, we got a shapeshifter.” He pulled into the motel parking lot and opened the door. “Great.” He said sarcastically.

It was late morning when you decided to get up and clean the apartment. The apartment was empty without your roommate, and a lot more expensive now. You had to work late tonight, so you decided to clean the place and relax before your shift.

You put on old, comfy clothes, and turned the radio on and started to scour the kitchen first. When suddenly, there came a knock at your door. You ignored it at first - you figured it was a reporter, or a Jehovah’s Witness. You turned the music up a few decibels and went back to cleaning. A few moments later there came another knock.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing the broom on the ground. You were frustrated. You were mad. Your best friend is dead, and you just wanted to be left alone.

When you opened the door you were pleasantly surprised to see two tall, handsome men standing before you. One was tall with long dark hair, and the other was slightly shorter with short hair. You thought to yourself, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” But you didn’t dare say that out loud. Instead you didn’t say a word. You just gave them a “may I help you” look. You widened your eyes and crossed your arms across your chest and waited for one of the tall drinks of water to say something.

“Uhhhh,” the taller one stammered reaching in his pocket. “Are you Y/N?” He and his partner both pulled out FBI badges.

You nodded your head and invited them in.

“So,” you poured the agents two cups of coffee. “Agent…” you trailed off because you couldn’t remember their last names.

“Oh,” the short haired one said, after taking a swig of coffee. “I’m sorry. I’m agent Osbourne and this is my partner agent Cooper.”

The two of them sat at your coffee table and you sat across from them, cross legged on the floor. They asked you questions about Sarah. Who she was dating. Where she worked. What she did in her spare time. There were a couple things you didn’t answer though, you just told them you didn’t know. But you knew.

Your best friend, Sarah, she had a boyfriend, but she wasn’t exactly loyal to him. She was having a secret liaison with a man who she adored, but was married and had children. You tried to talk her out of it time after time, but she never listened. You didn’t want the affair to get out. It would break her parents’ heart, and it would break her boyfriend’s heart.

Her boyfriend, Nick, was so good to her. You didn’t want him to hate Sarah now. She was gone, and there was nothing you could do to bring her back. But deep down, you knew that her married man had something to do with her death.

When agent Osbourne and Cooper left, they seemed flustered. Agent Osbourne got loud a few times during questioning. You felt like you were being grilled, put on the spot. You told them it was time to leave. Agent Cooper apologized for his behavior, and they left. You noticed their car didn’t seem very “government official.” It was a classic. A 60-something Impala. A car like that wasn’t meant for FBI agents.

Once you finished cleaning the apartment it was time to go to work, and that sucked even worse than being grilled by two FBI agents all afternoon.

By the time you got home from work it was pushing eleven o’clock. You couldn’t wait to take a hot shower, get in your comfies and watch a movie in bed.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, and took a look around. You always forgot to turn the lights on when you leave, and coming home to a dark house is always slightly unsettling. You used your hands to guide you to the light switch on the wall, and when you flipped the light on you saw agent Osbourne sitting on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table, shoes still on.

When you saw him you jumped and put your hand on your chest to make sure your heart was still pumping blood through your veins. “Agent!” You said breathily. “Wh-wha,” you stammered. You were slightly terrified, but you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. Still, a strange man somehow got into your apartment with the doors locked. You had a lot of questions. “What,” you walked towards him. “What are you doing here?”

He stood up. He seemed a lot taller now that his partner wasn’t standing next to him. Where was his partner?

He was in street clothes too, a blue jacket, a red flannel, and worn-out jeans. “You,” he laughed, “You’re not the one asking me questions here, sweetheart.” He inched closer to you. Closer. Closer. Each step he took towards you, you took one backwards. You smiled and giggled nervously. “O-okay.” Your back reached the wall. “Ask away.” You forced a smile.

He was now an inch away from your face. He crouched down so he was eye level with you and rested his palms on his knees. He pouted his lips and asked, “Who was Sarah dating?” You rolled your eyes and arched your neck so your head was now resting against the wall, your eyes focusing on the ceiling. You had to avoid his green-eyed gaze. It took everything out of you to not kiss him. “I’ve already told you,” you said, exasperated. “Sarah was dating Nick, they were together for six months, and that’s literally all I know.” You returned your head back to an upright position to meet his gaze. He wasn’t buying it.

He stood up and turned around to walk away from you. “Ya see, doll,” he turned back around to face you once he was a few feet away from you, “that doesn’t exactly work for me.” He crossed his arms across his chest.

“Yeah?” You were angry now. This man broke into your house and is now giving you a hard time. “Tough.” You walked towards the door and when you finally approached the door and turned the knob he was behind you and slammed it back shut. You were still facing the door and his arms were on either side of you. You were trapped. “What do you want from me. Agent?” You put emphasis on the word “agent” to show him that you knew he wasn’t and FBI agent. You turned back around and flashed him a cheeky grin. “I’m not gonna say it again,” you ducked under his arm to escape his reach, “it is time for you to go.”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Hun,” he reached in his back pocket, you followed his arm to see what it was he was reaching for, “I’m not going anywhere.” You were startled when you felt an electric shock run through your whole body.

When you woke up, you were cold. Really cold, actually. And when you finally snapped out of it, you remembered what just happened between you and the wanna-be FBI agent. You tried to sit up, but you quickly realized you couldn’t move. You wrists were tied above you.

“Rise and shine,” you heard his deep voice and it shook you to the bone. “Are you ready to talk, or is it still gonna take some doin’?” You were in your basement, and your wrists were tied to the rafters. Your feet were on the concrete, cold and wet. And you should’ve worn a longer shirt because your reach was causing your shirt to ride up almost to your chest.

The man was standing close to you, but not too close.

“You’re not an FBI agent,” you said. “You broke into my home, tazed me, and tied me up in my basement,” the aggravation in your voice was obvious, “and you want me to talk? Ever hear of going out for coffee before you take this step?!” You shouted, and your voice echoed through the dank basement.

He didn’t say anything. He just laughed.

“This is funny?” You rolled your eyes and scoffed. He stepped closer to you and wrapped his hand around your face, squeezing one cheek with his thumb and the other with his fingers. He brought his face close to yours, noses almost touching. “Now you listen to me, and you listen good,” he squeezed your face harder now. “You’re going to tell me everything you know, because I know there’s more.” He smiled and you felt your eyes swell and form tears.

He shushed you gently. “That’s not going to work,” he said. “I am not leaving here until you tell me.”

He released his grip on your face, and you looked down to the ground. You were crying. Not because you were afraid of this man, even though something told you that you should be. No, you were crying because he knew he was going to force you to tell him.

Your head was still down when you shook your head. “You don’t understand,” a single tear flowed down your cheek. “Sarah was my best friend and if I tell you what I know, and it gets out, her reputation will be destroyed.” He began to unbutton your jeans and you squirmed to try and get him to stop. “Please, please don’t do this.” He pulled your jeans and panties down to your ankles and delivered a hard smack to you bare ass. The sting was intense. You knew where this was going.

“Spanking?” You scoffed. “Really?”

He looked at you and he seemed confused. “What’s the matter, Agent?” You said with another cheeky smile. “Cat’s got your tongue?” You giggled. You were openly laughing at him. This pissed him off and he started to undo his belt.

You looked up at the ceiling and groaned, knowing what was about to happen. You giggled and tightened your body in anticipation before the cold, hard snap of leather met your backside. And again. And again. You were starting to sweat, but nowhere near broken. In fact, you chuckled, and looked down. You let out a long, loud sigh. “That’s it, Daddy, spank me.”

He raised one eyebrow, almost stunned at this comment. He was starting to get annoyed, and he knew you were antagonizing him. He slowly walked around you, his loud footsteps lingering. Once he was facing you, he quickly wrapped his large hand around your throat. His face was scrunched and his eyebrows were furrowed.

You gasped as his palm pressed against your larynx and fingers squeezed the side of your neck. You could see it in his eyes. You wanted to antagonize him a little more before he cut off blood flow to your brain. You smiled at him once more.

He grunted and released his grip. He walked away from you and put his hand up to his mouth when he turned to face you once more. “Listen,” he walked towards you again, “there is something you’re not telling me.” You rolled your eyes at him. He wasn’t going to let it go.

“You’re going to have to be a little nicer than this, Agent.” He responded by nodding his head once. He was thinking, and he was thinking hard.

His loud footsteps were circling your bound body once more. You followed him with your head. Each time he was at your side you would smirk at him. And finally, when he was behind you, the footsteps stopped.

“You want me to be nice to you, Y/N?” he kicked one of your legs open with his foot. “Is that what you want?” He kicked the other one open with his other foot. He reached up with his left arm and ran it down your arm, down your side while the other hand wrapped around your waist. He nuzzled his face into your neck and breathed in your sent. Once his arm reached your hip, he caressed your waistline. “Is this what you want?” He rested his hand on your mound and you nodded your head.

“Speak!” He exclaimed before delivering a quick, sharp slap to your folds.

You shrieked. “Yes!” You brought your head back and rested it against his chest. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled evilly, and gently rubbed your clit with the pad of his forefinger. You moaned quietly and spread your legs wider. He smiled, but you couldn’t see it. Your head was still resting on his chest, but your eyes were closed.

He reached up to grasp your neck with the hand that wasn’t working your clit. You gasped and your knees started to buckle. When he saw the desperation in your eyes, he entered one long finger into your cunt. “Oh, my God!” He said loudly, and then he laughed. He was laughing at you. “You filthy little slut. How long have you been turned on, huh?”

He fucked you harder and faster with his finger, and rubbed your clit even faster. “Tell me, sweetheart.” His voice was straining from working you with his fingers. “Was it when you saw me sitting in your living room?” He went even faster now, and you moaned. “Fuck!” You shrieked.

He ignored your moans, and curses. “No, no it had to be when you woke up tied up in your own basement.”

Your moans sped up, and he didn’t stop. “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Or was it when I smacked your ass? Or when I-” He grabbed your throat once more “-did this? It seemed like you liked it when I did this.” He squeezed harder. You were getting close. You felt your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach and your nerve endings tingle. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.” Your voice was strained as his palm constricted your voice box. You finally reached the precipice of your release. And he stopped.

He laughed wickedly, and walked away from you. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He said. But you didn’t respond. You just kept your head down and tried to catch your breath. He walked towards you. “Hey!” The loudness of his voice made you jump, but you didn’t look at him. You kept your head down.

He snapped his fingers quickly, and lightly slapped you in the face. “Hello? Y/N?” You looked up at him, your eyes were heavy and your hair was stuck to your face from the sweat and tears. “I’m not done with you.”

He quickly undid the restraints, and held you up. He picked you up and threw you against the wall. He kissed you and lifted you in his arms. You moaned in his mouth and wrapped your tired legs around his waist. He found the closest thing he could set you down on - your washing machine. He quickly undid his pants and flannel without breaking the kiss.

He knelt down on the cold cement floor, and opened your knees with his hands and delivered a few licks to your dripping core, and entered two fingers. “Gotta stretch you out a little bit, hun.” You giggled, and he stood up and quickly put his bulging cock inside of you. You grabbed on to the edge of your washing machine and threw your head back as his length hit your g-spot. He cupped your cheek with his hand and watched as he fucked you.

When he picked up the pace, you started to slide off the machine, so he gripped your legs to hold you. “Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned. Your mouth was open and you looked him deep in his emerald green eyes. You were speechless and breathless. He continued hitting your spot over and over again until you thought you couldn’t take anymore.

He stuck one long finger in your open mouth and got in wet before rubbing on your clit with his now lubricated finger. “Oh my God!” You cried out. “Fuck! Fuck, I’m close.” You moaned and squeezed his torso tighter with your sweat-covered legs. “I’ll tell you everything, just please let me cum!”

He chuckled and smiled widely. He knew he was about to get what he wanted. “If I let you cum, you’re going to give me what I want.” It wasn’t a question. You didn’t have a choice. You needed to cum.

Once more you felt your orgasm build in your stomach, it came quickly this time. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you shrieked loudly and you were inching closer to your orgasm. “Please! Fuck!” Within seconds you dripped and came on his cock, and he finished inside you.

You both sat there for a moment to catch your breath. He was still inside you and his head was resting on your chest. "You have no idea how badly I needed that." He said, still trying to catch his breath. "Thank you."

"No problem," you smiled. "But how did you even get in here in the first place?" You asked. "Is this how you pick up all your girls?" He laughed at that comment because he now realized how crazy he's been acting.

"No," he looked at you, "I've just been going through a bit of a rough patch." He seemed apologetic when he gazed into your eyes. "So, I'm sorry for scaring you, I just haven't quite been myself lately."

"It's okay, but next time just call me so I can let you in," you smiled, knowing good and well there wasn't going to be a next time. He gave you a half smirk because he knew it too.

Dean moved away from the washing machine so you could get off and you both got dressed. "Come upstairs, I'll get you some coffee."

In the kitchen you told him everything over coffee. You told him about Sarah’s affair with the married man. He seemed relieved, happy, and much nicer than he was before.

Once the coffee ran dry, you walked him to the front door to let him out. Before he walked out, he turned to face you, cupped your face and kissed your cheek. “I’m Dean, by the way.” You smiled.

“Well, Dean, it was nice to meet you.” You responded. And before you knew it, he was gone. You knew you were never going to see him again. Too bad, because that was the best sex you've ever had.

@spnkinkbingo @idreamofplaid @maddiepants @leatherandapplepies @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @covered-byroses

@risingphoenix761 @squirrelnotsam @supernatural-took-me-over

[pupcrimes]

About the Muse

yes, another one!!  tagged by @sunsetofdoom once again! thank u <3

 and since you asked so nicely... 

   | ― your muse’s name:   

Líett, but he usually just goes by Lee! (the fact that i have to copy and paste the accented i has nothing to do with this, i promise) 

| ― one favorite picture/face claim of your muse:

The first commission I ever had done of Lee, holding a frog bc he loves the froggos!! This was done by the lovely @celadonsprout, and the rebloggable version of this picture can be found here!!

   | ― two headcanons you have for your muse: 

Lee hates seafood, especially crustacea. When he was still Ziven's padawan, they wound up on a planet that was mostly water so a great deal of the food they had came from the sea and it was not a fun time for him At All. He ended up getting food poisoning three separate times in that trip alone, and now just the smell of fish makes him want to gag.

He has GAD, generalized anxiety disorder. He'd always had a subtle undercurrent of worry about him but it didn't develop into full-blown anxiety until he was in his late teens. With the help of his family and Master Ziven, he found a decent therapist and support group that he calls every couple of weeks to just talk and check in with everyone.

He has a nice singing voice but he is very very shy about it. He doesn't even sing when he knows his friends are listening, which is a darn shame bc they love to hear his voice (especially Aric, who thinks Lee could make a killing singing lullabies).  Here’s an example. 

  | ― three things that your muse likes doing in their free time:

Gardening! There's nothing better than having his hands deep in some soil. Gardening has a way of calming his mind, giving him something other than his messy thoughts to focus on. Most of the rooms on the ship have some sort of greenery in them, and his private quarters are a bit of a jungle. 

Long walks around Coruscant. He likes to take in the sights, the sounds, the life. He didn't see the top-side of the planet until he was twelve so actually being able to walk around it is something of a novelty. Usually you can find him in some art district in some sector or another, or stopping at a food truck for lunch.

     | ― seven people your muse loves/likes:

All the lovely people from the brothel he grew up by! Especially Izya and Melow. They taught him to be himself, to live his truth, gave him his confidence. They are his mentors, his role models, his family, and he loves them all very much. 

His AgriCorps squad! Jita, Habri, Illya, and Karman. Whatever their individual reasons were for coming into the corps, it didn't stop them from coming to be the best of friends in a very short time. Impossible to separate, the four of them are always assigned to the same location, which makes it easy for Lee to surprise them with visits. They are his closest friends, his confidants, the people he goes to when he is feeling truly low and needs comfort.

Amiri Ziven, his second master. Though Ziven was not without her problems, Lee is grateful that she asked him to be her padawan. He has so much to thank her for, teaching him how to fight and how to think on his feet and how to *ahem* bend the truth in his reports to the Council. They are penpals and mutuals on space Instagram, where Lee likes every single photo of Amiri and her baby to show his continued love and support of her decision to leave the Order. 

Kira Carsen. He didn't quite know what to make of her at first, but she grew on him. Actually reminds him a little bit of Ziven. Having her as his padawan was kind of weird for him at first, since they're so close in age (five years between them, i believe?), but he managed to figure it out. Sorta treats her like a younger sister. 

Aric Jorgan, his boyfriend (or husband, depending on where in the timeline you are). They met on Yavin 4, during the whole Revan debacle; Lee was assigned to assist Havoc in their missions and it gave him and Aric plenty of opportunity to get to know each other, though they didn't start dating until two years later, after Zakuul invaded. Pretty much a slow-burn love filled with plenty of mutual pining and that good ol' gay yearning™. They both function as the other's safe place, finding comfort in each other no matter how far apart they are. Lee just.... loves him a lot. 

Dego Tikkab, Lee's first big crush since getting together with Aric. When they have some free time, they like to drink together in the Odessen cantina and swap stories about the various places they've been. They have a lot of laughs. Close friend and (eventual) boyfriend. 

Svana Zikarr, the Barsen'thor of the Jedi Order. They have a friendship that many would think unlikely, due to their opposing personalities -- what with Svana's temper and sharp-tongue, in contrast to Lee's calm and empathetic nature -- but in actuality, they get along extraordinarily well. Lee tends to smooth down Svana's sharp edges, and Svana gives Lee the wherewithal to pursue his passions. Also, as the both of them dual-wield, they like to spar each other when given the chance.

      | ― a phobia your muse has:

That everyone he meets/knows/loves is annoyed by him or hates him in some way. He knows it's the anxiety brain™ talking but damn if it doesn't keep him up at night at times. When it's especially bad, he will go full-on People-Pleaser Mode, cutting pieces of himself away to better fit what he thinks everyone will like. It's... pretty bad.

      Anywho, I've already done three of these now and it's hard to tag people so I'm just gonna... tag you all again, I'm sorry. @highjustices, @theyronshan, @kaimystic, @peacemaker-legacy, @jokomalegacy, @sunsetofdoom (you should do sohnya!! curious minds want to know...), @a-muirehen and uhhhh if i missed you, you are just automatically tagged. that’s just how it is, i don’t make the rules, sorry. 

[nerdlife0612]

Dragon Bound Part 8

Author Note: Reminder – ‘Dragon Bound’ is merely a code name for this work at the current time. Reminder numero dos - for the time being, this is going to be an original work set within a WWE-Paranormal/AU type of setting.

That means original male characters and original female characters as the leads with occasional appearances of already established ‘characters’ (a la Triple H, Stephanie Mc., Roman Reigns, etc).

Since part 7 went short, part 8 is gonna go long… I hope.  Part 8 is going to be a 20 questions continuation as well as a dream world visit to our heroine and ending with some angst/maybe near shenanigans.

Let me know what you think!!

Tag List: @evilangel84 @empress-with-the-crown @misadventuresofathot @thedevilnisworld @bigpixiefoot @littledeadrottinghood @ballins-princess @princess3733 @sugasfatgf

(Uhh I hope I didn’t forget anyone… Lemme know!)

And away we go! --------------------------

Dragon Bound: Part 8 Word Count: 1,842 for the actual story Rating for P. 8: PG13 to start, near NC17 by the end

David grinned ear to ear, clicking his tongue. “Be careful what you wish for…” Flagging the waitress back over for drink refills, he took a moment to pick his first question. After the girl disappeared, David turned his steel eyes back to the woman sitting across from him. “Okay then. We’ll start with something more benign. Favorite color?” Elizabeth snorted. “What?” David snickered, knowing he caught her off guard and enjoying every single minute of it.

“Gotta admit I did not expect that… Uhm… “ She tilted her head to the side and looked out the window. She didn’t want to admit that recently her favorite color had transitioned to steel grey, the color of his eyes. So she picked her second favorite. “Emerald. Yours?”

Putting a finger to his lips, he contemplated his answer very carefully. He had a feeling that she held back. But he was in no mood to do the same. “Right now – topaz.” David found himself extra pleased at the light pink blush that spread across her cheeks and down her neck.  “Favorite kind of food?” And their discussion continued on like this for the remainder of their lunch. David found himself drawn more to Elizabeth than before. She meshed so well with him and yet was still so different. They discovered similar tastes in music and movies. He discovered she is a nerd – anime, gaming… the whole nerdy enchilada. Their tastes in food differed – he was far more into steaks and meat while she leaned more towards fruits and veggies. They both loved sweets. The Dragon smiled, slyly, from his place in David’s core. The Dragon knew it wouldn’t be much longer before he’d find a chink in the boy’s defenses and then they girl would fully be theirs.

Elizabeth looked at her phone and frowned, “Back to work.” David sneered. ‘Man… have to leave her defenseless again…’ Standing up and pushing his chair in, he threw some cash down on the table and offered her his arm again – an offered that she gladly accepted. “Why thank you!” She giggled as they exited the café, only to freeze cold in her tracks. David looked down at her, concern etched on all his features.

Dropping his lips by her ear, he whispered, “What is it?” She shivered involuntarily – both because of what she saw and the effect he had on her just now. Ducking her face into his shoulder, she shook her head no emphatically. Squeezing her shoulder, David forced her to look up at him. “What is it?”

Licking her lips, unsure of what to say she took a breath and whispered, “I saw black eyes in the store window across the street.” David blanched and did all he could to prevent the snarl he felt building from ripping out of his chest. David snaked an arm around her waist, holding her as close as he could.

“Gotcha. Come on. Let’s get back to work. I’ll talk to Hunter about this shit.” He directed her towards the area and subsequent building they were operating out of for this week. But he couldn’t focus on his job. His mind, as well as The Dragon’s, was racing with near murderous thoughts and confused questions about her apparent ability to see or sense things that normal people wouldn’t be able to – and he wasn’t sure what line of thought got him worse than the other. Suddenly, he felt a smaller hand on his chest – and more precisely, on the area of his ribs where his bond mark resided. His whole being stiffened, glaring down at her knowing his eyes was not his own right now. “Remove your hand, little one.”

Elizabeth frowned in worry. “What did I do?” They entered the hotel lobby and he rather forcefully all but carried her to the elevator that just opened up. As the doors closed, she felt his hands on her ass as he jerked her up – growling and grinding his hips against hers. Keeping his hand on the back of her head and neck, he suddenly pinned her against the wall – his lips crashing desperately onto hers. Not knowing what to do with herself let alone how to calm him down, she laid her hands on his chest up near the collar of his short. Groaning at her taste, he gently tilted her head back and deepened the kiss – earning a whimper from his mate. Her whimper was like a blast of cold water. As quickly as he picked her up he sat her back to her feet.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hand, moaning in near agony at the level of emotions he was fighting back all at once. “I’m so sorry, Liz. So fucking sorry.” He all but sobbed. “This whole situation is just so fucking hard to manage and when that God damned Dragon finds a hole – he slips right through it.” She wrapped her arms around his waist while he hooked his around her shoulders.

“It’s okay, David. It’s okay. You took control back before things got… too far. I’d say that’s a win don’t you think?” Half smiling up at him, Elizabeth was trying her best to reassure him. He couldn’t help but to return the half-smile at her. ‘She’s strong enough to handle this. I think. But am I?’ The elevator dinged, indicating they were on the floor that Elizabeth was getting off on, and both of them sighed.

“Like I said, I’ll talk to Hunter about this shortly. He needs to know that something is going on that seems to be of a more nefarious nature. You be careful okay? I’ll see if some of the roster can maybe hang around you or at least be sure they can keep you in eyeshot until I figure this out. “ Elizabeth shot him a look. “Unless you want The Dragon to take control one of these days, you’ll listen to me on this. Please. Besides, I’m pretty sure Steph and Hunter will agree with me on this. I’ll… email you later or something.”

The elevators doors closed again, leaving him by himself. He almost said he’d be by to check on her at her room later but he knew with that as week as he was, that would only spell disaster. Closing his eyes, he licked his lips. Her sweet, clean flavor was still there. But this time, he felt like he could push The Dragon back a little easier. ‘Maybe… maybe these small moments…’ He didn’t know if he should be contemplating what he was but it made sense for him. Once again, the elevator’s noise sounded – indicating he should get off here. As the doors slid open, low and behold whom should he run into – Hunter.

“There’s our star. What’s up young man?” Hunter shook David’s hand. David grimaced at the older gentleman, a look of confusion from Hunter as his reward. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” Hunter nodded, arms across his chest as David started recounting everything that happened – from the emails last night to the lunch today and even his theory about what happened just moments ago – as they made their way down the hall and prepped to get back to work.

A few hours later, Elizabeth stumbled back to her room. Her feet throbbed because of the senseless shows she picked today. A quick check of her laptop showed that David hadn’t emailed her yet, so taking the opportunity she got into some comfier clothes and collapsed on the bed. The work of an intern was beyond exhausting and she welcomed a quick nap.

>> In her dream, David and her were on the shoreline of the beach, cuddled up together. Sighing, she felt like she was in heaven. Nuzzling his neck where a new mark was, she giggled deliciously as he shuddered and attacked her neck in return. She fingers snap and suddenly, they were in the middle of the Barclays Arena, her dressed in a skin tight leather outfit and him shirtless in his ring gear. She tried to run to him but she felt two cold and icy pale white hands with black nails jerking her arms behind her back. Behind David, she noted a weirdly color being with what could be described as tentacles coming out his head and arms stalking up behind David. She tried to scream but one of the hands covered her mouth, the strength of his hold never ceasing.

“Unh unh unh uhhhh little one…” The wispy voiced declared from beside her. “You areeee ouurrssss. He doesssnn’t desseervee you. Or your powweersss.” The voice drew out as the other creature ran a sword from left to right at a diagonal through David’s chest – through both his heart and his bond mark. It was then she noticed the black eyes of the other beasts.

“More specifically, dear, you belong to the King of Demons… You’ve been warned. Now pass the word.” The first creature tossed her down but not before she noticed the face. And it was truly that of Jeff Hardy but yet not at the same time. As she fell, she woke up screaming and the room shaking.  Doing her best to clear her vision, she grabbed her phone and room key and flip-flops and made a beeline for David’s room. Coming to a skittering stop, her little fist banged on his door like a bass mallet does a drum.

She heard feet shuffling and a voice croak, “I’m coming. I’m coming. Jesus murphy…” David looked out the peephole to see a very disheveled, very tore up Elizabeth. The Dragon growled to life and in a flash, he threw the door open and scooped her up, tripping backwards a bit as he closed the door. “Hey, hey. H-hey. It’s okay.” He tried to soothe the shaking form in his arms, kissing her temple several times. She pulled back for a second, hers clamped shut, obviously trying to compose herself. But when she opened her eyes, he was no longer confronted with her typical icy blues.

Her eyes were now the color of blood - crimson surrounding a black pupil to be exact.

“What the hell…” David whispered and for the first time this entire day The Dragon was speechless as well. Both licked their lips as they looked at their mate.

“I don’t know but… but I….”

“You what?” David’s voiced dipped low, his growing arousal becoming more evident. If she said what he feared was next, he wasn’t sure that he nor The Dragon would be able to stop.  Her lips slammed on his and her first found purchased in his hair. Kissing her way to his earlobe, she bit down – a little harder than she thought she did but he didn’t care. His hips bucked up into hers – both of them groaning.

“I want you.” She spoke lazily against his ear causing his eyes to roll up into the back of his head.  He knew he was doomed. But, oh man, what a way to go….

------------------------------- Author’s notes: Well, I hope this makes up for the short as fuck chapter two days ago. Haha. Haven’t decided if the next one is going to be the real smut or if it’s merely going to be shenanigan-type stuff and save the real shit for later. Guess you gotta wait and see!! TEEHEE!

[rowdy-revenant]

My Kingdom for a Coat

Part three of The Thing About Being You

[<< part 2] [WEarp masterlist] [part 4 >>]

Pairing: hollirey (Bobo Del Rey/Doc Holliday)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, bodyswap

A/N: Canon is gently ignored for the sake of giving Doc a bigger apartment, Doc is a closeted bi mess

Characters in this chapter: Bobo Del Rey, Doc Holliday, Wynonna Earp, Xavier Dolls

Words: 1200+

Beta readers: @intricatecakes​

Read it on AO3

Sunlight felt good on Bobo’s face. It was almost cheesy how nice the ground beneath his feet felt, how comforting the empty air around him was. The revenant took in a deep breath; he felt reborn. He felt free.

Doc started coiling up the rope they had used to pull Bobo out. His eyes kept darting back to Bobo. The revenant knew that if he tried anything there’d be a bullet between his eyes “faster than a fly can blink” as Doc had once said. That was stupid, in Bobo’s opinion. Flies don’t have eyelids, idiot.

“Okay then, let’s go get Peacemaker,” Wynonna told the men.

“Hold on just a damn minute,” Bobo grumbled. “I just got out. I’m not going anywhere like this.” He gestured to himself, his dirt-covered skin, his bloodstained and torn straightjacket.

“Come on, are you kidding me?” Wynonna groaned.

Doc rolled his eyes. “What is it you require your highness?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

“A shower would be nice. A drink, some food, some clean clothes…” Bobo listed. “Maybe my damn coat?!”

“Fine!” Wynonna threw her hands up in the air. It was pointless arguing with Bobo. They had at least gotten this far. “I’ll get your stupid coat. Doc, take him back to your place to get cleaned up.”

Doc started to protest but Wynonna shushed him. “Alright, alright.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Rest up. We will take care of this first thing tomorrow morning.”

Bobo nodded. “Gun won’t be goin’ anywhere. The Morgans are too prideful to pawn it. Plus they’re-”

“Hoarders,” Doc interrupted. “It’ll be like shootin’ fish in a barrel.”

“More like shooting a needle in a barrel of hay,” Bobo corrected. Doc shot him a glare. “What? They’ve got heaps of magical trash. It could take days to find your Pacemaker.”

“Peacemaker.” Wynonna corrected.

“Gesundheit.”

Doc felt like the chances of him being stabbed in his sleep had increased the second Bobo walked through his front door.

Bobo looked over the blank, pale blue walls. “You should decorate.”

“Since when are you an interior designer?” Doc scoffed.

“Since I walked in here,” Bobo retorted. “The well was homier.”

Doc’s mustache twitched. All the comments about the well really rubbed him the wrong way. Bobo had spend a fraction of the time that Doc had in there. “Could you shut up for a damn minute about that well, for the love of-”

“Toouuchyyy. Sheesh.” Bobo grumbled.

Doc took his coat off and hung it on a mostly empty coat rack. Bobo wasn’t entirely wrong. His small apartment was pretty sparse. He just… didn’t have the time to decorate. That, and he wasn’t exactly used to living in one place for extended periods of time. Back when Doc worked with Wyatt, living situations tended to be moving from inn to inn (or from the home of one lady to another) and then it was on to the next town.

“Bathroom?” Bobo asked, snapping Doc out of his thoughts.

“Down the hall on your right. Refrain from using up my nice shampoo,” Doc told him.

Bobo snorted. “You have ‘nice shampoo’? Really?”

“Oh shut up,” Doc huffed. “I am doing this for Wynonna. Not for you.”

Bobo put a ring covered hand over his chest. “Oh, John Henry, you wound me!”

“Down the hall on your right,” Doc repeated. Bobo rolled his eyes, and then walked off.

“Stupid Bobo and his stupid coat...” Wynonna muttered to herself. “Just get it out of the evidence lockup, yeah that’ll be easy.”

The trade was necessary to get the revenant to actually cooperate with them and not run his mouth. All Wynonna had to do was bring him his ugly ass fur coat. That was easy. The hard part would be keeping Bobo’s presence out of the well a secret from Dolls and the others.

“I should have stayed in bed,” Wynonna grumbled as she walked down the halls of Purgatory’s police station. “But nooo, I thought it would be a nice day for a walk. Who thinks that? What am I, an old lady?”

“Cutest old lady I’ve ever seen,” Dolls told her, suddenly stepping through the door.

Wynonna blinked in surprise, she had been hoping to avoid Xavier. Crap, he couldn’t find out about this. “Aw, I bet you say that to all the gals at the senior home.” Good save.

Xavier smiled. “What are you doing here? It’s your day off.”

“Well, y’know. People like me don’t really get days off,” Wynonna said. “Besides I… wanted to see you.” Not a lie, just avoiding the whole truth.

“You can see me later,” Dolls told Wynonna, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m off in an hour.”

“Awesome!” Wynonna grinned, hoping it didn’t look too fake. For added measure, she shot him a pair of finger guns. “See you then.”

When Dolls had returned back to his office, Wynonna breathed a sigh of relief and headed towards the evidence room. Nailed it.

Doc didn’t know what was more annoying: the fact that Bobo sang in the shower, or the fact that the walls of Doc’s apartment were thin enough that the gunslinger could hear him.

“Country roooooads, take me hooome-”

Doc was considering taking his pistol and putting himself out of his misery.

“To the plaaace, I beloooong!”

It was almost like Bobo wanted all of Purgatory to know he was back.

“WEST VIRGINIAAA-”

Doc turned the TV on and cranked up the volume. At least Bobo wasn’t a bad singer. Kicking his shoes off, Doc leaned back on the couch and started flipping through the channels. Something called Doctor Who was on, Jeremy had insisted that Doc watch that.

Eventually the singing stopped and the sound of running water died. Honestly, how long did it take that man to shower?

The sound of soft footsteps alerted Doc to Bobo’s presence in the living room. The revenant’s skin was clean, bare chest, arms, and legs exposed. His white-tipped dark hair was far less oily, though a few strands were stuck against his forehead. With just a towel around his waist, a much tidier, still slightly wet Bobo stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Could I uh…” Bobo swallowed. “Could I borrow some clothes? I was just gonna take them at first but I figured it was better to ask first. Trying that whole ‘niceness’ thing and all.” He raised his hands from his waist to do air quotes and Doc thanked God that the towel was tucked tight enough to stay put.

Holliday couldn’t help but stare. It was like someone had slapped him, punched him in the stomach, and knocked all of the air out of his lungs. “Uhhhh…. y-yeah. Put some- some damn clothes on your body...” He tore his eyes away and stared at the TV, his cheeks burning. “Shirt and pants and all that.”

Bobo smiled. Not his usual devilish grin, but a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Doc nodded, only looking back at Bobo when the revenant had turned and started walking away. Cheeks growing red again, he looked back at the TV, even though he wasn’t even processing what was happening on screen.

Doc had seen Bobo shirtless before, so why was this time different? How could he even be sure that this reaction was because of Bobo being shirtless? Stop thinking about shirtless Bobo, dammit! Doc told himself, pushing any thought about that man out of his mind. He was probably just stressed and caught off guard, yes that was it... God, he really needed a drink.

[soulswimmr]

Thoughts on s6~

Putting it all under a cut because I can’t not talk in lengthy paragraphs. Feel free to shoot an ask/message if you want to talk about s6, too

Ok wowie, good season. There were noticable weak points, but I’ll address those along the way. First let’s talk about the 

Plot

It was good. It was surprisingly good. The hidden altean thing where they bold faced put that Lotor was responsible for hundreds or thousands of deaths teeters way out of kids’ show territory. They were not fucking around with that. The fact that they made it clear that the plot was not just paladins vs Galra (esp with Lotor wanting to do away with the Galra), but more along the lines of paladins vs lotor vs generals vs sendak vs so on and so forth makes it not just more complex, but stacks the odds against voltron and adds good suspense. Clone shiro was incredible. It was everything i’ve been waiting for. 

The fight scenes, inside and outside voltron (cough cough KeithvsKuron) were breathtaking. Everything about Krolia was very well put together. THE ANIMATION WAS BREATHTAKING. 

On that note (and dipping into characterization a little bit), they kinda layed it on thick with Lotor romanticizing Allura. He was too goody goody and it made the betrayal lose a little impact (aside from the whole mass murderer thing). there’s a difference between that and foreshadowing. 

Idk why the huge timeskip with Keith and Krolia stuck on that mission bugged me a little, but it did. A timeskip makes sense and is a cool tool to use for the fam to get to catch up, but it just felt. Strange. Two years is a long ass time. Keith was completely unaffected seeing the team again. One could argue that this was bc of the mission, or Krolia teaching Keith how to be a member of the blade and have Super Mission Focus, but still, for Keith to have that much almost-off camera development and not be at least startled to see voltron again was weird. I love my mom to pieces but two years alone with her and eventually I’d go a little nuts.

Characterization

That last point brings me right into characterization, and unfortunately this one is gonna be a little more on the critical side. For the most part, characterization/character focus was well balanced this season. But there were some Moments.

Everyone on team voltron developed, and it was arguably best executed this season than any other. We got to see some great Coran moments, where he really felt like a member of the team. Hunk having a no-nonsense teacher, even just for like 15 minutes lol did him good in terms of communicating with their new allies. Hunk is a people-person, and it shows very well. His camera time wasn’t 100% food related all the time, in fact, barely ever. Bravo.

Pidge of course got her own arc, but it was still a GREAT moment when she admitted to having the coding on Shiro’s arm uploaded and on hand just in case. It was CHILLING when she made eye contact with Kuron before he took off. This is, imo, how Dreamworks should’ve handled other characters who didn’t quite have the spotlight in previous seasons. Not a whole lot of moments, but when they were there, they had impact. I hope they continue to do this.

Do I even need a section for Keith? Holy shit. My boi finally accepting his role as Black Paladin and so much more. :’) I won’t elaborate because c’mon, it was in part, a Keith-centric season

Same for Allura. She really is the heart of Voltron. We got to see a lot of sides of her. 

Lotor being a psycho bitch but still having genuine feelings for Allura?? good shit

LANCEY LANCE. Bless him, Dreamworks is doing their best. In terms of his relationship with Allura, seeing him going from meaningless flirting to serious heart to hearts and a team player was fantastic. BUT I have some grievances, here we go.

Lance got a mini-arc and it was great, and he very clearly grows and changes, this is great! However, regardless of ships, seeing it centric to a romantic relationship, and basically being a rebound for Allura was ahhhhhhehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh eh. 

Pidge and Hunk teasing Lance about his crush was normal, and them pretending to be Lotor and Allura was adorable and hilarious, but Lance was really hurting and when they didn’t stop and just walked out, I???? What. That, to me, is out of character. Hella out of character. Lance is their friend, and they should be?? Friendly??? I was mad @ them

Finally, as much as I love broganes and the great arc they had, they’ve had a tremendous amount of camera time. We’re well away that they’re practically inseparable. What I really wanted to see was the whole team being involved with finding out about Operation Kuron. With Lance seeing Real Shiro in the astral plane, I was really on board with him pulling aside Keith when he came back and be like “ey dude I saw some fucked shit”, and them rescuing Shiro together was a theory I was personally super into. Was kind of disappointment that we didn’t see the relationship between Shiro and the other team members deepen a little more.  

Ships

If you don’t want to read about ships feel free to stop here and thanks for reading!! Message me if anything I said caught your eye.

First of all, daaaaaaamn that Allurance.

I’ve shipped allurance for a while now, more casually than other ships, so to see Lance change and mature and support Allura while Allura started to show that she really values Lance meant a lot to me. It’s good to see Lance grow up a little. For everything that they were this season, forced was most certainly not one of them. Their relationship felt organic.

However, it was not without flaws. I can’t help but feel like Lance was treated like a rebound, and was almost too? supportive??, and it was telling when Allura was talking with the mice, upon them snITCHIN ON LANCE DAMN MICE, she frowned sadly. I have to wonder if she actually returns his romantic feelings. And I do like the ship a lot, casually and aesthetically. But at the end of the day, what I was hoping to see was a really solid friendship. I think from here they don’t need to be straight up romantic. Their relationship is no doubt one of the strongest in the show, but I think it would be an incredible writing path to keep their friendship, because allurance has been hinted since episode one, and I think it’s almost?? Too easy for the writers to turn it romantic. I think Allura and Lance are a great team and very compatible for friends, but uhhhh read on.

I’ll just address the elephant in the room and come clean, yeahhhhh I like klance and yeeeaaahhhhh I would have really liked to see some more content this season, so sue me lmao. 

If I’m gonna be really blunt about my feelings, I feel like klance is a fantastic direction for Dreamworks to take. I feel like it would be good writing to make klance endgame. Why? Because it’s the path of least resistance. That’s why so many people like it. Keith and Lance were so salty at the beginning, but the crew made an effort to show that in moments that were particularily tough, they have loads of potential and can be very good for each other, romantically or platonically. It’d be harder to write, it’d take time, but I think it’s a worthwhile pairing. And there are definitely some moments that are super disruptic to both Keith and Lance’s development when they, Lance especially, straight up regress in their development and fight for no reason. I think it’s unfair, and it almost always makes me go “wait I thought they were starting to get along better??”. Now that Allurance is a thing, I’ve stated in another post that, because it would be strange for Lance to have two romantic arcs, it’s pretty unlikely that klance will actually happen. Do I think they teased us? Yeah. Do I think they straight up qbaited us? Not really. In the end, my biggest hope is that they continue to develop Keith and Lance’s friendship and don’t abandon the really strong potential they have together. Don’t let them regress, Dreamworks.

I’m not gonna address she/th (or tag it, because who goes into the tag looking for someone to say IM NOT A FAN OF XYZ JUST THOUGHT U SHOULD KNOW) too much because I’m personally not a fan. There’s so much about their relationship associated with “brothers”, and Keith looking up to Shiro that it just doesn’t rub me right in terms of romance. I had to wonder if they aged Keith up two years to justify possible future she/th?? if it happens I’ll be bummed, and I think the random aging up is kind of a cop out, but hey, it’s their show.

RIP Lotura. I stopped shipping it and figured out Lotor was a hoe after his third Dramatic ‘Let’s Bring the Universe Together’ Speech to appeal to Allura’s sense of duty. It’s a shame tho, I was really digging it at the end of season 5

PUNK FOREVER YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY

Thanks 4 coming to my ted talk, get in my ask and discuss w/ me ovo

[hyucksbf]

hey im finally doing a tag game again

mso i was tagged by sooo many people to do a Lot of different tag games a rlly long time ago but then a lot of shit happened nd i honestly forgot who tagged me in what and what i still had to do so im rlly sorry if u were waiting for me to do one u tagged me in :( but im gonna try 2 keep up with them now !! so i’m gonna start w the tags that @saltatricis-alas tagged me in (ily cee ♡♡♡)

a-z tag !!!

age: im sixteen now ew

birthplace: united states of Shit

current time: 5:44 pm

drink you last had: milkkk

easiest person to talk to: hm... thats kinda hard to answer honestly ? it depends on the subject at hand,, like most of my friends i’m okay with but with everyone theres always a touchy subject i won’t be able to talk to them about with so

favorite song: right now ?? better better from day6′s new album,, but of all time ?? i have no idea lmao

grossest memory: idk ive always been hard to gross out so i dont rlly have a grossest memory rip

hogwarts house: hufflepuff !!!

in love: no not really

jealous of people? :(

killed someone: uhhhhhhhh no ???

love at first sight or should i walk by again: u cant love someone like that unless u know their personality so neither !!

middle name: i can finally answer this question aaaaaa its terrence !!!

number of siblings: two younger sisters,,

one wish: for everyone to be happy and content

person you last called: i think the last call i made was months ago when my friend was in the hospital so ??

questions you are always asked: “are u a boy or a girl :o” which is fine if the follow up questions wasnt “wait really ?? but u look like a girl lol” ::)

reasons to smile: my friends and the music we make together

song you sang last: sentimental by winner !

time you woke up: 6:30 ish ??

underwear color: blue ??

vacation destination: new york city i rlly wanna spend a week in nyc these days

worst habit: well i bite my nails but when all of them are too short to bite anymore i start biting the skin around it instead :// my fingers are often bloody these days its bad

xrays: i only had a couple done when i broke my arm in second grade lmao (also yea my sister confessed to being the one who pushed me off the damn waterslide ten years later gee thanks :^))

your favorite food? ive been fkn CRAVING salad these days ?? its so weird ??

(theres no z so im gonna make one lmao) zodiac: leo sun and libra moon ::)

another tag game !!

(also tagged by my mom @saltatricis-alas ily

name: hunter !!

birthday: july 25

zodiac: i’m a leo sun, libra moon, nd thats abt all i know jshjfh

height: last doctors appt they told me i was 65 inches (5′ 4 or around 165 cm) so guess who is finally growing !!!! this short ass bitch !!!!

sexual orientation: sexually im ace but still figuring out romantically

favorite color: soft pink nd tiger orange !

fave book: the outsiders,,

fave artists/bands: day6 is The fave, so is nct, but after that i literally dabble in everything ? so

last movie i watched: wonder woman :’)

hogwarts house: hufflepufffff

random fact: uhhhh lets be boring and say ive been studying clarinet for seven years now heck yea

when did you create your blog? i created my kpop blog in like july last year then remade it in march of this year to what it is now (an nct blog bc i had found my true loves)

do you have any other blogs? @klarinetto which is my music/band blog, @kangkei which is my day6 blog, nd then @in-ten-tion which is my kinda random blog lmao

what made you want to get a tumblr? okay listen i never wanted a tumblr one of my old friends made me get one in middle school nd then she made an account on some other social media site that i dont remember as an agreement, now look at me years later still on this hellsite

do you get asks on a daily basis: no :(

why did you chose your url? bc i love one (1) boy and his name is lee donghyuck aka haechan the love of my life

and now for those to suffer!! (also im gonna tag some new mutuals uh if u dont wanna u dont have too !!): @jisvngie @taeyongtown @hyukhyuck @makkeuga @hrjn @2monstax @snowy-lion @renjae @rosehyuck @haechnn @markcity @iwriteblogpostsnotsongs

[roseymoseyberry]

Samsara (4/?)

I’m gonna be v busy for the next few days so I’m posting a little earlier than I had planned to.

ALSO!!! It’s less relevant here than on ao3 but uhhhh while writing this chapter I accidentally wrote an interfacing scene. Oops. It was a surprise to me but here we are. So just know that if you weren’t expecting that to pop up in this fic, well. It’s here. But it’s p vaguely described with a much stronger focus on the emotions involved.

Anyway, hope you enjoy! Though this chapter is a rollercoaster of emotions haha.

Title: Samsara

Series: RID15 and TFP (and some tidbits grabbed from Aligned wiki pages)

Ship(s): Wildbreak/Knockout, Breakdown/Knockout

Tags/warnings: Reincarnation AU, hurt/comfort, verbal/physical abuse (though the worst of the physical abuse is barely described or off screen), past character death, age difference (but still consenting adult alien robots), a lot of filling in worldbuilding gaps and making shit up, and a lot of Wildbreak being a sweet boy who just needs some love and affection. NEW TAGS/WARNINGS: Very vaguely described sticky interfacing

Fic Summary:

From the day he was forged, Wildbreak had felt like there was something missing; some motivation or drive or desire that had been left behind in the Allspark.

Something he should know but didn’t.

|Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|

Wildbreak wasn’t really sure what he expected at the end of the journey.

It was dark out, and made all the darker as they stood under the heavy boughs of the forest, but their combined headlights made it easy enough to make their way through the foliage. It took nearly an hour of stomping around before Knockout slowed and Wildbreak asked, “Why’re we stopping?”

Knockout gestured in front of him.

“We’re here.”

It was just a small grassy clearing. Large enough to allow a couple cybertronians at most to walk around, but still small enough that there was only the slightest spacing between leaves that allowed moonlight to fall on the center of the space. Truthfully, it looked like any other clearing in any other forest. Wildbreak wouldn’t have been able to differentiate it from anywhere else in the woods they had trekked through.

However, his spark fluttered sickly.

“At least, this is most likely the place,” Knockout continued as he took slow steps out into the clearing. “Dreadwing was polite enough to give me the coordinates, and while Breakdown’s frame was already long gone by the time I came to check, there had been enough evidence to suggest this is where it happened.”

Wildbreak stayed on the periphery, his joints locking up with an odd dread.

It was shockingly easy to imagine the spilled energon across the ground that Knockout now stood on.

“Autobots?” Wildbreak asked as carefully as he could.

Knockout’s back was to him.

“Decepticon,” Knockout corrected, his tone almost indifferent sounding. “Instead of simply doing the job himself, Megatron sent Dreadwing and Breakdown to offline her, coming up with some fake cover story. She realized, of course. Not everyone is as oblivious as that egomaniac.”

Wildbreak felt his spark twist. It occurred to him that he could ask about it, about who ‘she’ was, all the circumstances that led up to it, but the very idea only made him feel more ill. Wildbreak desperately didn’t want to know.

He didn’t want to have this horrid tale sound familiar.

“I’m sorry.”

Knockout didn’t respond right away. Instead he gracefully knelt to the ground, his digits gentle as they brushed along the fragile grass of the forest floor. A moment went by, and then another.

Wildbreak was about to ask if Knockout wanted some time alone, to have his space while he mourned Breakdown, when finally Knockout spoke.

“It’s my fault, you know.”

“What?” Wildbreak blurted, his ridges furrowing with confusion. “But you weren’t even here, right?”

“No, but I’m the reason he was here in the first place,” Knockout insisted. The cold detachment of his voice was starting to get to Wildbreak. His vents huffed. “But you don’t want to hear about that. Just go back to the road and I’ll find you in the morning.”

Wildbreak’s spark quickened its pulsing as he took one step into the clearing.

“Do you want to be alone?” Knockout didn’t respond to that, so after a moment Wildbreak gathered his courage and said, “Th-then I’ll stay. And you can talk, if you want to. Or not. I don’t mind either way.”

A small bunch of grass was plucked, ripped away from the ground strand by strand.

“It’s not a happy story.”

Wildbreak’s chest grew tight with knowledge his spark couldn’t share with him.

“I kinda figured that much out.”

After a long moment, Knockout dropped the grass in a pile.

“I had done so well to keep him from becoming cannon fodder. Once I had him as my assistant, I could keep him from the worst battlefields and out of the general command line of unfeeling generals. Sure, it became harder once we arrived here and had high command ordering us around directly, but I was so sure we could make it. The war had to be almost over. I saw the finish line and ignored all the signs.”

“Signs?”

“Megatron didn’t care about Breakdown,” Knockout stated, and while his tone was still cold, there was a fury beneath it making itself known.

Wildbreak’s spark clenched painfully. “But he was a part of the team here on Earth, so Megatron had to care at least a little, didn’t he?”

Knockout snorted dismissively and bitterly.

“When Breakdown got captured by some filthy humans, Megatron did nothing about it. Starscream of all mecha was the one who finally went to get him, and he had to do it behind Megatron’s back, lest he anger our leader by saving his own soldier. And by the time he did, the Autobots had already gotten there and done the job for him. The Autobots rescued him before his own faction bothered to!”

Clawed digits dipped into the dirt, dragging shallow gouges into the patches of green.

“And the worst part was that Breakdown wouldn’t let himself be angry. He wouldn’t even let me replace his optic, insisting it was a reminder of his failure, as if it was all his fault and he deserved what happened. As if somehow through apologies he could convince Megatron to care!”

Knockout’s frame shook as his voice grew.  

“And I let him. I knew that Megatron didn’t and wouldn’t ever care, but I let him keep that despicable patch and we stayed with that despicable mech because I was so sure we were on the winning team, and Breakdown paid the price for it!”

He grew silent then, for just a moment, crouched and trembling with emotions that Wildbreak couldn’t name from where he stood. Wildbreak was caught between wanting to say something and dreading that saying anything at all would cause Knockout to realize what he was admitting and clam up. Knockout was always so swift to change topics when his own emotions slipped through.

When Knockout finally spoke, it wasn’t as cold as before, couldn’t detach itself from emotion, but it was softer again.

“And then that horrid human took his frame from me. Took it and corrupted it to house his weak fleshy body, and he walked right into the Nemesis like he deserved a place with us, and Megatron let him. He let that – that abomination in Breakdown’s offlined frame try to earn his way into the Decepticons.”

Wildbreak’s optics went wide, shocked when his spark didn’t pulse with familiarity in response. For the first time that night, it didn’t know what Knockout was talking about at all, though his spark still twisted tight enough to make him nauseous at the thought.

“And I still stayed. After it all, I still stayed.”

Wildbreak wasn’t sure when he had started moving, but soon enough he was kneeling in front of Knockout. The mech was so hunched over that Wildbreak couldn’t make out his face in the shadows, but there were drops of cleanser dripping to the ground and Knockout’s vents hitched with every ventilation. His servos were caked with dirt where he was crushing the ground beneath them.

“I made that abomination scream for weeks,” Knockout confessed, sounding bitter and ashamed. “I called what I was doing experimentation, but it was torture and we all knew it.”

“I mean, that’s not that weird,” Wildbreak tried to reason. Wildbreak wasn’t good at comforting, had so rarely been shown that sort of affection and his team would have never accepted it, thinking it made them look weak. So he just followed the prompting of his spark and placed his servo on top of Knockout’s where it was piercing the ground. “You had to get it out of you, and it’s not like you coulda done it to Megatron or something.”

A wretched chuckle escaped Knockout.

“Spoken like a true Decepticon.”

Wildbreak didn’t understand – he had seen time and again that mecha lashed out at weaker ones when they couldn’t fight the cause of their frustration. His teammates certainly always did. That was normal, wasn’t it?

Were – were Autobots not like that?

Knockout’s digits finally unearthed themselves and Wildbreak further wrapped his servo around Knockout’s, squeezing it. He wasn’t sure if it was for Knockout or himself anymore.

“It still doesn’t sound like it was your fault.”

That surprised Knockout enough that he looked up, and Wildbreak’s spark ached at the thick lines of cleanser streaking down his face and how his features were tight and twisted with grief and hatred.

“Breakdown died because I didn’t want to defect. How is that not my fault?!” Knockout hissed.

“I mean, you can’t control everything,” Wildbreak said, aware that his voice was strained around the tightness of his intake. “Maybe he wouldn’t have wanted to. Or even if you convinced him and had defected, you can’t know for sure something bad wouldn’t have still happened, right? He coulda died anyway.”

“But if I had just--!”

“You don’t know that!” Wildbreak insisted, his hold on Knockout’s servo tightening. “And thinking ‘bout it isn’t gonna change nothing.”

“But—!”

“Breakdown wouldn’t’ve wanted you to blame yourself.” Wildbreak had meant it to come out as a question, to end it with ‘would he?’, but his spark roared that it was a fact.

Knockout looked stricken. His optics were wide and his jaw was slack and his cheeks were still wet with tears. Then, slowly, his face crumpled.

When Knockout’s free servo reached up to grasp Wildbreak’s arm as he ducked his helm, frame rattling with a sob, Wildbreak let himself be pulled forward. Knockout’s tears felt as if they were burning against his neck.

Wildbreak held him tight and let him cry.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“It’s ok,” Wildbreak said, shuffling closer when Knockout tried to pull away. He had long lost track of time, not sure when they had arrived so he had no beginning marker, but it had been a while. The heavy wailing had tapered off soon enough, but it was the lingering hiccups and relapses that took time for Knockout to work through. And even once it was finally over, Knockout had kept himself curled against Wildbreak, helm ducked, until his ventilations had finally slowed to normal.

Now, after it all, Knockout lifted his chin, and it was only because Wildbreak was looking for them that he noticed the dried residue on his cheeks.

Wildbreak’s digits itched to rub the lines away.

“Are you ok now?”

“Was I ever?” Knockout asked sarcastically, the smirk that came with it weak. He shifted, accepting the closeness that Wildbreak was trying to maintain by simply settling onto his hip instead of his knees, his frame still leaning against Wildbreak but now against his side. Knockout’s helm flopped against Wildbreak’s shoulder. “But yes, I am better now. Thank you.”

“Oh, uh, it’s no problem,” Wildbreak said, unsure what else he could possibly say. The physical closeness he could at least handle, keeping his servo on Knockout’s shoulder, doing his best to comfort. Wildbreak was still uncomfortable being in the clearing in a way he couldn’t describe, but it was obvious that Knockout needed to stay a while longer, and Wildbreak could live with the discomfort.

“You know, I can’t even remember the last time I said his name out loud before meeting you.”

“Really?” Wildbreak asked, optics widening as a flustered heat started to build around his spark.

Knockout nodded, his helm rasping against the armor of Wildbreak’s arm as he hummed, “Mm-hm.”

“Didn’t you talk to anyone after it happened?”

“Who would I have talked to?” Knockout asked. “I was barely a step above Breakdown and only because I had medical skills. And, frankly, that never kept them from treating me like a punching bag when they needed one.”

Wildbreak couldn’t imagine a mech as handsome and charming as Knockout being so alone and abused, but the evidence was there clear as day in the bitter curl to Knockout’s lips.

“But uh, Dreadwing, right? He was the guy who told you the coordinates?”

“Because he was the only one amongst them who had a shred of decency, but he was blindly loyal until the day Megatron shot a hole through his spark.”

Wildbreak winced.

“One of the vehicons?”

That got an amused huff out of Knockout.

“You sound just like him sometimes.”

With a throbbing pulse of his spark, Wildbreak turned to look at Knockout fully. Knockout seemed just as surprised at the words that came out of his mouth, his optics staring straight ahead as he lifted his helm off Wildbreak’s shoulder, not daring to meet Wildbreak’s optics.

“What I mean is Breakdown got along with the vehicons,” Knockout said, clearly trying to hide how his plating heated where it met Wildbreak’s, “and he always wanted me to get to know them better. They honestly would have been my best choice. I think they missed him too.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Knockout shrugged.

“It took years before I let Breakdown in past my charming exterior. How could I have possibly let myself appear weak in front of some mecha I had only known for a few months?”

“You let me.”

It was hard to tell who was burning hotter where their plating met.

“Yes, well,” Knockout stammered, looking down to pick dirt from between the plates of his digits. “You’re easy to trust, I suppose. You don’t have a dishonest strut in your frame.”

“I lied to Motormaster to come with you,” Wildbreak admitted, and that just made Knockout smile.

“I’m honored to see I’m such a good influence on you.”

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know, I know,” Knockout said as he peeked at Wildbreak out of the corner of his optic before returning to his digits. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this so you’ll have to forgive me.”

“What d’you mean ‘this’?”

“Being honest, opening up, all that nonsense,” Knockout said. He flicked his servo to scatter some of the dirt and debris that had come loose. “It just doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Wildbreak’s ridges knitted together as he replied, “But you’re – you’re good at talking.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Wildbreak. I am well aware of that.” Knockout finally looked at him again, flashing him a gorgeous grin, and it was only because of the circumstances that Wildbreak realized it was completely fake. “I know how to charm mecha. I just never got the hang of actually connecting with them.”

With a frown, Wildbreak asked, “You haven’t made any friends with the Autobots?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Bumblebee’s old teammates are shockingly lovely,” Knockout admitted as the exaggerated smile started to fade a bit. “And I’m sure they would love to hear all about the trauma I have from having spent most of my life as a Decepticon, and that’s why I’ll never tell them. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. Not when they don’t understand what it was like.”

Wildbreak remembered the anxiety he had felt when telling Knockout about his life with the Stunticons, the fear of judgment that ultimately never came.

“So you told me ‘cause I’m a Con.”

Finally the smile faded to a small, gentle curl of Knockout’s mouth.

“That’s a part of it, I suppose.”

Wildbreak’s spark raced in his chest, anxious and hopeful at once.

“And?”

Knockout’s ex-vent was amused sounding as he teased, “Greedy for compliments?”

“Is that bad?”

“Quite the opposite. Which means I’ll have to reward you with an actual answer, won’t I?” Despite his tone, Knockout’s optics returned to his digits, oddly shy as he looked for any dirt left to be picked out. Wildbreak waited as Knockout cycled a ventilation. “You really do remind me of him sometimes.”

And just like that, the racing of Wildbreak’s spark shifted from what his processor could understand to something that just resulted in errors.

“You mean Breakdown?”

Knockout nodded. “Sometimes you say things, or smile a certain way, or laugh just right, and it’s uncanny.”

TELL HIM.

“Am I that much like him?”

“No. I mean, you’re sweet and too honest, and the paintjob similarity is almost scary,” Knockout replied as he flicked a few strands of grass from between his joints. “But you’re also like me in that you’re a coward. And I mean that as a compliment – I wish Breakdown hadn’t been so eager to run helm-first into a fight. Though you are even more trusting than he was which is honestly shocking and something I’m going to try to get you to break the habit of.”

TELL HIM. TELL HIM.

“Besides, most importantly, Breakdown’s offline. I’d say that’s a rather important detail.”

TELL HIM. TELL HIM. TELL HIM. TELL—

“Well, maybe I’m like, a reincarnation, or something weird like that,” Wildbreak stammered, anxious and hoping against hope that it would make his spark stop threatening to break out of its casing.

Knockout stilled. Even his ventilations stalled.

And then air whooshed from his vents.

“You’re giving Primus far too much credit,” Knockout insisted as he turned to look at Wildbreak. There was something almost comforting in the way his servo grasped Wildbreak’s arm. “Coincidences are just that.”

Coincidences didn’t explain the way Wildbreak’s spark ached.

Coincidences didn’t explain the way Knockout had hesitated.

But then Knockout reached his servo out to cup Wildbreak’s face.

“And I like you just the way you are.”

The ache of Wildbreak’s spark was, within seconds, utterly overwhelmed by the rush of flustered glee. Wildbreak could feel a smile tugging at his lips as he said, “Aww, shucks, Knockout. You mean it?”

Knockout snickered at him, but there was with nothing but warmth and a fondness in the way he looked at Wildbreak.

“Primus, you’re adorable,” Knockout murmured, and Wildbreak’s temperature skyrocketed, no doubt hot against Knockout’s servo and wherever their plating met. “Of course I mean it.”

“I-I like you too,” Wildbreak blurted. It felt like his spark was pulsating out of control, and it felt like it was all his, no weirdness he couldn’t understand, no mystery. Just Wildbreak and his feelings and Knockout’s ever growing smile. “I mean, that was probably pretty obvious, but I figured I should say it.”

Knockout’s thumb stroking along Wildbreak’s cheek had his vents hitching.

“I had figured that one out, but it’s still nice to hear. Though,” Knockout drawled as he leaned that much closer, “I haven’t been able to quite put my digit on the way you like me. Are you looking for a guardian? A friend? Perhaps even a lover?”

Wildbreak’s cooling fans whirled to life as his frame finally burned too hot, and his face twisted with shame.

“Oh, n-no, I would never – I don’t expect you to like me that way, ‘cause I know you loved Breakdown, so you don’t have to worry about any of that. I’m happy with what we got.”

Knockout’s optics were wide with surprise. Slowly though the surprise faded to leave him with the small, sad smile that always came with talking about Breakdown.

“I hadn’t realized I was that transparent. But you’re right,” Knockout admitted softly. His servo was still cupping Wildbreak’s face, keeping him from looking away. “I did love him. I still do, and unfortunately it seems that I’ll never be able to stop. I--” Knockout trailed off, optics flickering down for a moment, the corners of his lips tensing as he ex-vented heavily. “I miss him so much.”

“Knockout--”

“But he’s dead,” Knockout interrupted definitively, optics finding Wildbreak’s again. “I can love and miss him all I want, but he’s still dead and I’m still alive and so fragging lonely.”

Wildbreak’s spark ached with a regret that wasn’t his. And this time, the pushing of his spark was softer. Quieter. Begging instead of demanding.

Tell him. Miss him.

“You shouldn’t be lonely,” Wildbreak murmured honestly. Knockout huffed and his digits stroked the side of his helm.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not when I’m with you.”

Kiss him.

Wildbreak’s spark was finally in complete agreement with his processor for the first time that he could remember.

It was only when his mouth met Knockout’s a little too hard that Wildbreak realized what he was doing, and the muffled noise of surprise from Knockout mixed with the sting of impact caused embarrassment to race down Wildbreak’s lines as he jerked back.

“S-sorry, I’ve never – I don’t really know how to--”

Knockout chuckled.

“Hush,” Knockout murmured as his servo slipped behind Wildbreak’s helm. “You just surprised me.”

“But I really don’t know how to do this good.”

“That’s alright. I’ll teach you.”

When Knockout leaned in it was softly and gently, lips warm against Wildbreak’s. He couldn’t help gasping quietly because it was so nice, so unlike anything Wildbreak had ever felt, but also familiar in a way that had his spark pulsing with warmth.

Knockout’s digits trembled against the back of his neck.

Wildbreak pulled away again, concerned as he asked, “Knockout?”

Knockout’s digits tightened, though there was still a subtle quiver to his grasp.

“I haven’t done this since Breakdown,” Knockout confessed.

“Oh.” Realization of where they were and just what they were doing hit Wildbreak and he felt guilt bubbling in his tanks. “Y-you don’t have to do this then.”

“Of course I don’t. But I--” Knockout glanced away then, abashed as he pulled further back. “But it’s hardly fair that you need put up with my—well, all of this.”

“I don’t mind.” Knockout’s gaze met Wildbreak’s again, surprised, and Wildbreak shrugged weakly. “I mean it. I really don’t mind. I just want to make sure you’re ok with this.”

Crimson optics flickered and for a moment Wildbreak swore he saw cleanser welling up in them.

And then Knockout was suddenly pushing up to his pedes, tugging at Wildbreak’s servos, insisting, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m sure I can find a better place to show you a proper first time.”

Wildbreak easily let himself be pulled since he was eager to leave the clearing behind. Every step away left his spark lighter.

And then when Knockout finally stopped, whirling around, Wildbreak had only barely managed to keep from barreling into him. An apology was already on its way out of Wildbreak’s voicebox when Knockout’s servos braced against his shoulder, helping him find his balance.

As soon as Wildbreak had his footing, though, Knockout slid his arms around his neck and leaned in.

And Knockout was kissing him again. This time it was more insistent, desperate and passionate. Wildbreak’s processor stalled so he followed his first instincts as he embraced Knockout and tried to keep up, to kiss back even if it was clumsy.

And his spark finally settled in quiet contentment.

Wildbreak didn’t question how his digits knew where to slip past Knockout’s plating and stroke sensitive receptors that had Knockout gasping against his lips.

“Beginner’s luck,” Knockout had teased as he shuddered, plating flaring to give Wildbreak room to sink in further for deeper nodes. “But Primus, don’t stop.”

Wildbreak didn’t question that with the awe that came from staring up at Knockout in pleasure – handsome face all the more beautiful for it and his frame so gorgeous and tempting that Wildbreak’s engine purred without his permission –there was also a moment of déjà vu.

And Wildbreak didn’t dare question the flicker of confusion when Knockout was knelt between his thighs and could still reach his lips for a kiss.

“How do you want me?” Knockout murmured against his neck, nipping a fuel line that had Wildbreak gasping as his back arched.

“I-inside me. I don’t think I’d – hahh – be good at spiking.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn,” Knockout insisted as he pushed up to his elbows, bracketing Wildbreak’s helm, and watching with bright, eager optics as he rolled his hips. With another gasp and tremble, Wildbreak’s panels shifted away, desperate and unable to control himself, weak against the pleasure. “I’ll show you by example.”

It was teasing, Wildbreak knew that, and he should have tried to tease back, or laugh, or anything to maintain that lighter mood – but instead his servos clung as he turned his helm, trying to find Knockout’s lips to kiss again as he whined, barely louder than an ex-vent, “Please--!”

Wildbreak didn’t question any of it because he desperately didn’t want to think anymore. About spark troubles or reincarnation or who he might have been; about his team or lingering injuries or the boss who gave them to him; about the terrible intersection that begged the question if Wildbreak was just going to live through the same mistakes and someday offline like Breakdown had – at the hands of a leader who would never truly care about him no matter how hard he tried.

He didn’t want to think about any of it.

Wildbreak just wanted to be here, now, with Knockout.

Thankfully, Knockout didn’t deny him. Knockout kissed him, and Wildbreak didn’t even know how many times they had kissed, or if he was any good at it now, but it was still soothing. When Knockout was kissing him, everything felt like it would be alright.

Knockout kissed Wildbreak as he slowly pushed inside him. And Knockout kissed him until Wildbreak’s frame was ready for him to move. And still Knockout kissed him while Wildbreak shuddered and bucked and clung to him as they fragged, choked by the overwhelming affection of his spark.

Until the wet drops hit Wildbreak’s face.

His optics onlined slowly, confused in the haze of pleasure, and that’s when Wildbreak saw the source. He pulled away from the kiss, panting against Knockout’s lips, managing, “K-Knockout?”

Knockout immediately jerked to a halt, his optics onlining quickly as shame crossed his handsome face. There was no mistaking the tears that were escaping or how the way his cooling systems heaved wasn’t just from their interfacing. He pushed up onto his servos, stammering, “Scrap, I’m sorry--”

“No, no, it’s ok! You don’t have to say sorry,” Wildbreak protested, reaching out to keep Knockout from retreating further and trying to tug him back in. “Should we stop? I didn’t mean to push you if you didn’t want to--”

“It’s not that,” Knockout insisted, scrubbing at his face with one servo, clearly embarrassed. “I do, and you’re fine, you’re so good – Primus, I--”

“You what?”

A fresh wave of cleanser spilled down Knockout’s cheeks as he murmured, “I didn’t think I’d get a chance to feel like this again.”

Wildbreak would swear his spark was swelling, filling his chest until it was choking him, and still pushing harder as if trying to reach further. It couldn’t reach though, not the way his servos could, pulling Knockout close while he pushed himself away from the ground, moving to hold Knockout as close as their frames could allow.

“I love you,” escaped Wildbreak, spark and processor in agreement, and he felt the way that Knockout shuddered and his hips rocked.

“Don’t say that.” Knockout’s optics were wide and wet but his servos grasped Wildbreak tight, like he never wanted to let go, and his spark was pulsing so hard that Wildbreak felt the vibrations of Knockout’s chest against his own.

Wildbreak kissed Knockout, shifting so he straddled Knockout’s lap, took Knockout inside again as they both gasped at the pleasure.

“I love you, Knockout.”

Knockout kissed Wildbreak, picking up their rhythm again while clutching at each other.

Knockout still had tears streaming down his face and Wildbreak was desperately ignoring the the déjà vu that came with telling Knockout he loved him. But he wouldn’t have asked to be anywhere else doing anything else with anyone else.

So Wildbreak let himself drown in Knockout’s kisses and the sound of his name – “Wildbreak, frag, Wildbreak” – on Knockout’s lips.