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myna33 · 5 months ago

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Pillbug

Should’ve left earlier. Car is making that sound again. I’m tired.

Thing is, they don't warn you. They turn up where they like, take their pick, and move on. Only thing to do is keep an eye on the news and head out soon as a report comes in. If it’s more than two- or three-day’s drive you may as well stay put because they don’t wait around. I’ve wasted too much gas—too much time—not to know that.

I hang right a few blocks from downtown and almost hop the curb when I find a spot. Douse the headlights. Recline. Listen to the radio for a while. All the local stations are talking about the lightshow, but I don’t want to hear it, bitter as I am. So I flip through until I catch coverage of, I don’t know what, a baseball game? It doesn’t matter. All I need is the sound of talking. If I’m smart, I’ll remember to shut them up before I doze off and run my battery down. But it wouldn’t be the first time I forgot.

All around the houses are dark. It’s three in the morning and distantly, quietly I hear a train whistle. Freight making its way faster than I ever will. I zip my coat to the chin and turn up the collar. Jam the last pair of handwarmers deep in my gloves. Turn off the heat and watch my breath clouding out in front of me, caught by the streetlamp. Not winter breath, high and solid and white, but spring breath. Pale steam in amber light.

….

The first lightshow was two years ago, off the coast of China. It hung around there for a few days (longest of any of them) and nearly got a war going. I remember this neighbor of mine—guy with stringy hair I used to buy weed off—going on and on about drones. But within the month things got too weird for the usual stories. They were everywhere, flashing in and out, sometimes in hundreds of places at once.

I was back in Indianapolis then, working my uncle’s landscaping business. Still telling people I’d go back for that last year of school. Eventually, the lights started taking people. Once, a plane went down in Nebraska or one of those other big, empty states. At first the news said equipment malfunction, but there weren't any bodies so everybody knew that was bull. Pretty soon after they downed and canceled most flights. I'd never been on a plane, and now it was too late.

….

I wake up.

Knocking next to my head. A badge. Blotchy red face.

I roll down the window.

“Sir,” he says. I can see a piece of myself in the passenger-side mirror, curled up around my stomach like an animal.

“What’s up?”

“No sleeping in cars.”

“Sorry. Didn’t know.”

“Sure. You have business around here?” He braces himself against the door. His arm is shaking.

“Yeah, my, uh—my brother. But I got into town late. He wasn’t up to let me in.”

“Sure. Well. Keep in mind the travel restrictions, right? You did hear about those?”

“Oh. Don’t go anywhere you don’t have lodging. But I do have it. Lodging, I mean.”

“That’s good. If it's true.”

“It is. I'll clear out soon.”

He backs off, boots slopping around in the river of melt outside my door. “Don’t let me catch you again. Wouldn’t be the first I’ve brought in this weekend.” I lose sight of him as he moves back along the car, hunkered down, vanishing into the milky glass.

Usually I'd've slept in, the ideal being to sleep days and walk nights. But that’s out of the question now; too many eyes on me. Going out after sundown is also illegal, of course, but there’s no enforcing that. Not with a town’s population doubled, tripled maybe, and everybody in the streets. They’d have to move every officer in the state around like whack-a mole. Not that they don’t try. I’m tired. Maybe to lots of people twenty-seven is young. It doesn’t feel like it. What the hell were you thinking, not booking a fucking room? Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

….

Walking now. Ends of my pantlegs all wet with muck and crusted up with road salt and palms sticky from the dregs of the handwarmers. Everywhere there are leaves. Left over from last season’s raking and sapped of their reds and oranges long before the thaw, in soaking heaps along the road. The first daffodils are here, too, and just like my grandma’s. This could’ve been my town—if I wasn’t looking closely. I can remember her daffodils in a bed set off with old, rotted logs. I remember…pillbugs. Little grey pillbugs skittering when I turn the logs over. That wormy, musky smell in the air. Rain smell. Her in a candy-striped lawn chair with the nylon bleached and fraying. Tapping her cigarette in an ashtray full of rainwater. All of it is still there somehow, even if the edges are fuzzy.

You know, this might be the first time I’ve kept at something I’m so bad at. I haven’t even kept at a lot of stuff I was good at. People think I’m lazy, but would a lazy person live like this? I don’t think so. A lazy person would take real advantage of times like these; just kick back, and eat microwave dinners, and jack it. They wouldn’t be sleeping out in the cold. I imagine lazy people have smooth insides that hang loose. My insides are bunched up all the time. I can barely eat anymore.

That said, I find a place. A kind of breakfast place with laminated menus, where the air is so rich it turns your stomach. I’m keeping my head down because there are news people here. Some are wearing those bright-colored jackets with logo patches. Others aren’t wearing anything special, but you can tell anyway from how loud they talk. Something prickling at the edges of their eyes. At the corner of their lips.

A man plops down across from me in the booth, sliding right up against the window.

“Mind? Sorry. Place is packed.”

“No.”

“No? No like it’s fine or no like ‘leave me alone.’” He smiles a big one with his stained teeth.

“No, you can sit. Go ahead. Sorry.”

Whips off his hat and rakes thinning hair across a tight, shiny scalp. Leans in. Vibrating in his seat. Trying very hard to hit it off. Come across light and conversational.

“So, you here for the lights?”

“I don’t know anything about that. I’m here visiting my brother.”

“Is that so? Hope the traffic hasn’t been a problem for you. My crew had a hell of a time getting into town. Finding beds, too. Word is that California and some other states are gonna try to shutter hotels, restaurants—hospitality whatever—in places where the lights turn up. Try to cut down on this type of shit.”

“Crew? Are you like a reporter or something?”

“Yeah, the Dispatch. Isn’t it crazy? Never thought there’d be one so close. I’m scared, mind you. I mean, I never thought—it’s a big chance is all. I’m really curious about these moths. You know that’s what they’re calling themselves now? Some of them anyway.”

“Yeah, did you hear about that one who drove his truck through a barricade? Three people died in that.” Make it unpleasant. Put him off.

“Sure. Chicago, right? But these aren’t violent people. Mostly. I’m not curious in, like, a ‘look at the freaks’ way.”

“How are you curious then?”

“I don’t know. They're like storm chasers. Like they’re playing pretend scientist or something. But I don’t buy that. Something else going on with em.’ It’s a solid article, anyway.”

The waitress comes over and takes our drink orders. Coffee, no cream. And a water. Something else. Something else. Something else.

We talk for some time, actually. He tells me he interviewed some kid just half an hour back who looked “way too young to be doing this.”

"How is some kid just running around unsupervised? Under a curfew, no less?"

“I don’t know,” I say. And mean it. Plenty of people younger than me and smarter than me chase them. The lightshows are on social long before any broadcast people pick them up; long, long before the newspapers do.

“You see that?” He’s showing me these pictures. People showing off the bruises they’d gotten from cops in Philly. No live rounds there yet, but who can tell when the claws will come out. Things are getting uglier the longer it goes on. The clearer we all see that things aren’t going back.

“Nah, I don’t have a profile.”

“Seriously? I would’ve thought—never mind. Actually, maybe that’s better. Stuff rots your brain.” He’s busy cleaning some stray egg off his watch so I take another bite of toast. Hate people watching me eat. I don’t even have a phone anymore, but I don’t tell him that.

“Yeah, I’ve got a profile for work. Awful. Used to be that when someone wanted to complain at me they’d have to leave a message at the office. But now? Anyway, there’s this lady my friend interviewed who thinks she has some kind of thing going on with our visitors. She’s got thousands of people following her on—.” He snaps his fingers, eyes on the ceiling. “Whatever. Anyway—she thinks you can call them down, with intentions.”

“Like, just wanting them badly enough?”

“I guess. Maybe pass me some of that creamer? Thanks. And yeah, it’s anyone’s guess. Probably just trying to sell vitamins or something.”

….

It was a bitter day in January when the curfew came down. Only a few months after flights were canceled. I’d quit coming to work before they pivoted to snow removal and I’d basically stopped answering calls. Hey kid? You know, it’s pretty shit of you to just drop off like this. And it’s not even about the replacement; already got one. You know how worried your parents are? They keep calling, and what am I supposed to tell them?

My roommate, Kev, was late getting back from work so I held off on starting dinner and sat around, half-watching the news. The bags under the governor’s eyes. Humvees idling in the road. Boots splattered with road crud. A news panel with a meteorologist, an aerospace engineer, and some natsec guy. The meteorologist apologizing, saying “we just don’t have any solid data to predict these things, or even say for sure what they are.”

I almost miss him coming in. “Hey, you hear they’re not letting people out after eight? Is your store just gonna close early or what?” Nothing. He tries throwing his coat over the back of the couch, but it slides down to the floor in a wet pile. Without stopping, without even looking, he heads up the stairs. Must’ve been a bad shift, right? But no, that wasn’t it. Kev’s sister had went for a weekend trip at her boyfriend’s, parents’ cabin and never came back. Parents hit up her school two weeks later and no dice.

Are you comfortable assuring the American people that these, uh, events, are not of military origin? Yes, I can assure them that these are not of foreign—domestic, for that matter—military construction. Well, that begs the question, then, of where all these people are going? You know, I think that, um, strikes our viewers as potentially hostile activity.

I could hear him from downstairs. “How should I know?! She’s an adult, isn’t she? She can skip if she likes. Probably just fucking around. Like last time.” He took a long shower that night and went straight to his room after.

….

Something would’ve felt bad about going back to the car. Instead, I find a bench downtown and work on my notes. Doug, the man from the breakfast place, gave me his card and a pocket notepad with the name of his job on it. Friendly? Or maybe I just look like a kid. A tall, gaunt, slumped-in kid. In it, I begin to work up to-dos and suggestions for myself. The waitress’ pen is low on ink, but if I press hard enough the letters come out in fits and starts. Number one is to check my oil, because the car is making that sound again.

Number two is all about getting up to speed. Lots of things aren’t in my life because I could never have had them, or never did, or they would stick me down when I need to keep moving. An apartment? That would cost rent and rent’s money you can’t spend on gas and gas I need to keep moving. So you can understand my reasoning for not having those things. But a phone? A person in my position should really have a phone. I wouldn’t have to rely on the radio and library computers, then. It would also be a good idea to get some canned food; restaurants use too much money and time and talking.

A woman is crossing the lot near me, one hand busy with her daughter and the other lugging what might be groceries.

“Help with that?”

Her eyes dart over me, up and down.

“We’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Jesus. What do I look like? I head over to this little clothing boutique a few stores down. Wouldn't it be weird just to use their mirror and leave? Without trying something on? But it's a women’s store full of things I shouldn't wear, so I just grab some sunglasses and take those to the changing room. Nobody seems to notice, but I feel my throat tightening anyway. It’s hard knowing how to act anymore. We’re all so out of practice.

Honestly, I don’t look all that bad. Shirt’s wrinkly, but that’s what you get for wearing what you slept in. I do keep clean. Wear deodorant. Even when I sleep in the car. Little things I hold myself accountable for. After Kev left it got hard to do that. Or pay rent. But it got easier to be light and fast. It gets so easy it’s scary. And even then—not enough.

….

Hey bud, haven’t heard from you in a while. Your mom and I just want you to know that if things didn’t work out with your uncle you still have a place here. All we’d have to do is get the boxes out of your room. Is everything okay? Wh–what’s that honey?—your mom says she found this big box of your old school papers you might want to go through. It’s getting pretty crazy out there, isn’t it? You wouldn’t believe the Zimmermans. They actually headed up to see family in Michigan and we haven’t heard from them in weeks. Anyway, please, please don’t leave us in the dark. Don’t mind your uncle. Anyway, room’s hear if you want it. You know we love you!

End of messages. Press one to rep—

“Are you getting those?”

“I don’t think so. I do like them. But I already have a pair. I do like them, though.”

….

So far, there's no way of telling how the lights work. Random? Maybe. Planned? Maybe? Somewhere in between? Anybody's guess. Could be that they chose where to go and who to lift a long time ago. If that's the case I'm wasting my time, I guess.

When I was twelve or something, maybe, I used to ride around at night on my bike. Sometimes with a friend, sometimes alone. One night, alone, I rode out so far on a county road that there were no more cars. I laid down and stretched out against the asphalt. Little shards of rock bit at my palms and wrists, and the asphalt was still warm from the sun beating on it all day. It was a bean year, not a corn year, and above their leaves the fireflies wheeled around.

It was so dark you could see the galaxy’s long arm stretching out into the black, pointing or beckoning. You never realize how much is out there until the lights are turned off. A murmuring glow older than any car or road, or the town behind me. Waiting, all along. Looking at them is almost like sinking. Holding your breath until things get quiet and still.

….

It’s getting near dusk.

There are people all around now. A policeman on a megaphone announces that the main roads in and out of town will be barricaded; anyone with no good business being here should get out before the arrests begin. A sweat-smelling man next to me throws a cup of soda at him and is brought down and his hands tied behind his back. That eager, animal smell is everywhere. I remember the bus jerking under me on school trips, sweat gluing my pale legs to vinyl. Crowding into the basement when the sky bruises and buckles and the leaves show their silver underbelly. Something is going to happen. Something, anything must happen.

….

“I’m sure she’ll turn up. I used to be like that. Just disappear for a while.” Cold comfort, I know. Kev also knows, and says nothing. He says very little anymore. For the past month I have only seen him when he crosses from the front door to the stairs, eyes straight ahead. Something must be different today. He has lingered in the living room with me. Heated up some rice. Pretended to watch the news sputtering on in loops. Waiting, I guess, for me to cross over.

“You ever do something like that? When you were a kid. Just gone for six whole weeks?”

“No. I guess I never really did that kinda thing.”

He turns and I see his wide, wet eyes. He picks at his arm.

“You know what? If they’d stop running around trying to corral everyone maybe they’d actually get somewhere. Like, they can’t find her because they’re too busy keeping track of everybody else.” He wipes the snot away from his nose and keeps chewing. It takes him a long time to chew, like he doesn’t really want the food to go down. “Like, why even fuck around with that? They can’t stop them, you know? What a waste.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and find it stiff, almost too stiff to be flesh. He gets up, eventually. He’ll be gone in another week. I’ll help his father carry out the very same couch we’re sitting on, leaving wounds in the thin carpet. His father will look down and toe at them, ask how I’m holding up while Kev finishes packing. Then, they’ll shrink away down the street. With half the furniture gone the house seems to balloon around me, a too-big prop I can only hide in until I'm discovered.

….

Night is here. The streetlamps are lit, but towering sodium lamps have outdone them, igniting hundreds of teeming heads. Underfoot are leaves and trash and discarded signs. A carpet of soiled cardboard and tracked-in filth. They have stumbled across the barricades. They stand on cars, mailboxes, and stolen lawn furniture. A group of ten or more have climbed atop the diner with a case of beer and they hurl their empties down at the cops. A beanbag hits one in the chest and he is still grinning when he falls and his leg breaks under him. I am in the crowd, and they brush me with their shoulders when they pass, but I am not part of all this. The gap between us has only, temporarily, shrunk.

The sky above us is a flat blackness. More than clouds. The light which presses so hard into us just can't make a dent in it. Those sodium floods cower, feral and small, having met and recoiled from the edge of their territory. More police roll into the intersection with some kind of truck but they, too, shrink back. We can try, but it is out of our hands. Something, anything.

“Hey! You.”

Doug is here again, hat long gone.

“Just visiting your brother, right? Knew you were holding out on me. You seeing this shit?”

“Sure.”

“Well?!”

“Not tonight.”

“What are you talking about? Come on. Still time to talk before the show, right? What brings you?”

“Not tonight. I know it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should’ve moved earlier.” There is something warm on my cheek. Against the bridge of my nose. In the hollow of my neck. He looks sorry. “I should’ve moved, but I’m not fast enough. You can only go so fast.”

He does not stop me when I leave. Over and behind us, the show is beginning. The lights glint on and begin to school. They dip and weave, and when they dip the whole dark of the sky comes down with them. Pulled downward and inward. A tendril seeking its bride.

….

“Can we go to the pool?”

“Pool isn’t open yet sweetie—till June. Anyway, I don’t believe your parents would want you there with only me to watch over. You gave them quite a scare last time.”

Grandma. Tapping away the ash. Rubbing her knee, and then her calf, blotched with age.

“What’ve you got there?”

A pillbug, is what I have. I have stolen its cover and exposed it to the sodden, grey sky. It has frozen in place. Is it waiting for me to make some kind of decision? I wonder how often it sees any light at all. I pick it up delicately and it curls in on itself, in surrender. A small life giving itself over to chance.

…..

The people surge forward and backward, unsure of their want. And anyway, it doesn't matter. The tendril found whoever it was looking for.

Somewhere, distantly, a gun fires. And somewhere, something is on fire. The warm stings my eyes and glues them shut. My legs carry me back to the car, over something pale and bent-in on the ground. And I drive. Up in the grass around the barricade. Out and way.

I drive in no particular direction for no particular amount of time. If the car makes any noise I don't notice. My limbs quietly perform what little movement is required while mind and stomach turn over and over and over.

Above, the dark breaks up. Becomes layered and familiar. When color begins to show through I pull off at a rest stop.

The salt of my face runs into my mouth. There is a shred of daffodil on my front, left tire. My handwarmers, damp with sweat, are still in my gloves. Pull them out.

I am crying and the sky, pink and open, will sometime soon be blue. And I will get new handwarmers. And I will wipe off my face. And if I am not too old, too tired, too slow, I will turn back on my radio and listen for them.

I have been picked over. This time.

#mynafic

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blackblooms · 11 months ago

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irredeamable development retrospective. Part 1: shadow and light This is gonna be pretty messy since what came before or after gets all tangled up when you go back this far, but the earliest project that can be identified in the file is a game about controlling a specter where you could take control of all kind of people or creatures and use their unique attacks and movement ability to navigate the world.

We got humans, cats, snake, ants, succubus, and my beloved mitons, a race of giant rolly polly pillbugs.

Aniway, the story eventually developped into being about a rivalry between two specters sibling. Nox and solaria. They also each came with a unique appearance for each race they could control. Through, i sadly never did make their mitons form...

The idea behind the game was that each chapter, you would awaken as one of the two and try to usurp and destroy whatever the other had built in your absence. Nox eras were more focused on primal cults of fear and darkness while Solaria would make grand empires to worship her. There was a back and forth between the two but time and technology would progress with each era. All i got left when it comes to how the world would have been laid out is this line map that shows the general ways the area connects and the ideas of how certain locations could change depending on the era.

There were also plans to introduce a new antagonist later on with Cain, a new, much more powerful specter that forces the sibling to make a truce. His backstory was that he used to have a similar rivalry with his brother able, but eventually ended up destroying him and is now deeply sad and alone.

So how far did it go? The game pretty much didn't get out of the conceptual phase. Got around to code the possession mechanics and a few of the races' movesets, but that's about it. Anyway, you`re free to get inspired by or even steal anything here. I have way more ideas than i can actually use and everything in these old projects has either been abandoned or altered so much that it's now something completely different. See you next time for the next chapter of our retrospective. Capitalism, IN SPACE!

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paramountinplace · 19 days ago

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Hi hi!!! I just got done re-reading ‘Pitchers and Pillbugs’ and first off that’s such a cute story and I love your writing style so much. And I was wondering if you could do a continuation of it like after Van and Mari get done lying down on the couch they have a talk with everyone on why Mari might need extra time to remember a word or why Mari struggles a bit with English and might say a word in Spanish instead and that it’s not something they should make fun of her for or make her feel bad about.

Pitchers And Pillbugs - Pt. 2 (Little!Mari)

Summary: They have a talk about not making fun of Mari (or anyone) for needed an extra minute with their words. Lottie does her best to make Mari smile. For my sake, please disregard the fact that this is in a different tense than part 1, it would be greatly appreciated 🙈

"Okay, Mar," Van murmured, helping her to her feet. Mari was still a little bleary from having drifted off to sleep against Van's side on the couch, but she managed to get upright without toppling over. "Would you like to have a talk with everyone now or at dinner?"

Mari hesitated, ducking her head in slight embarrassment. Truth be told, she didn't really want to have a talk with everyone ever. Van put a steadying hand on her shoulder, bending to try catching Mari's eyes.

"Do you need a minute?"

She nodded, relieved when Van opened her arms invitingly, falling forward into the hug. Van had promised to do most of the talking when they'd discussed it sprawled across the couch, which made Mari feel a little better, but she still didn't much like the idea of sitting through a conversation all about her. Normally, she liked attention, but she knew this would be such a time where everyone's eyes on her would feel more oppressive than bolstering.

"Do I have to come?" She mumbled into Van's shoulder. Van hummed, thinking.

"Not technically," she started, "but I think having you there might help them understand a little better. I can do my best, but only you know what it feels like for you to need an extra second with your words sometimes."

"But you do too," Mari replied petulantly. "Tai said."

"It's similar," Van relented, "but it's still a little different. If you really need to, you can sit in your room while we talk."

Mari heaved a sigh, pulling away and putting her hands on her hips.

"It's fine. I'll do the talk," she said.

She found herself slumped into a chair beside Van at the kitchen table less than ten minutes later, watching as the others filed into the room and slid into chairs of their own. She barely heard it when Van started speaking, focusing on tracing her finger over a pen mark on the table over and over again. Beside her, Gen nudged her side and she looked up, shrinking back when she realized everyone was looking at her.

"Huh?"

"Van said you speak a different language," Shauna said, eyes narrowed. Her I'm curious face and her I'm annoyed face were scarily similar and Mari wasn't entirely sure which one this was.

"Um, yeah," she replied, sliding a look at Van, who looked a little guilty for having directed everyone's attention so quickly at Mari.

"Right, so, that means Mari's got about twice as many words in her head as the rest of us do," Van continued.

Shauna scoffed. "I know way more words than Mari."

"Do not!" Mari cried, suddenly defensive.

"Shauna," Tai said warningly. "You know lots of words, but that's not what this is about, okay? Do you remember what happened earlier today when you were playing the words guessing game?"

Gen's hand shot up beside Mari and Tai nodded at her.

"I won!"

Van put a hand to her mouth, badly concealing her smile.

"Good job, kiddo," she congratulated, "but I think Tai was talking about something else."

"Oh." Gen wilted a little before straightening again as her hand went up in the air again.

"You don't have to raise your hand, honey," Tai told her, gesturing for her to speak.

"Mari didn't know screwdriver and Shauna was mean about it," Gen answered.

"I did know it," Mari grumbled, encouraged when Van and Tai both nodded. Even Laura Lee, down at the other end of the table, was smiling gently at Mari.

"Yeah, kiddo, you did," Van agreed. "But you knew a different word for it than the one on the card, right?"

She nodded. Shauna's face had morphed into something that looked a little shameful.

"Wait, so you knew it, but you didn't know it?" Jackie asked, brows furrowed.

"Mari knew the word in Spanish," Tai clarified, "but it was taking her brain an extra second to find the one in English. Does that sound right, Mar?"

"Yes," Mari affirmed. "It's like...I have to sort through the words sometimes. And sometimes I still say the wrong one."

"Well, it's not the wrong one," Van jumped in. "It's just a different one."

"Right," Tai tacked on. "It's really important, guys, that we don't make Mari feel bad about using a different word or taking a minute to come up with the one in English. It's not very nice."

Mari felt some of the nervousness in her chest abate as she watched understanding dawn on Gen and Akilah's faces.

"I think it's cool, Mari," Mel said earnestly, leaning a little further across the table. "How do you know Spanish?"

"It's what I learned first," Mari replied quietly, a little sad as she thought back on it. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memories of stumbling through introducing herself on the first day of school. "My family spoke it at home a lot of the time."

"You must've been really smart to do both," Akilah mused.

"I was terrible at keeping both English and French in my brain in school," Lottie added, smiling at Mari.

"Well, not really," Mari replied, feeling her cheeks flush a little. She leaned into Van's side as she looked across the table at a quiet Shauna. Tai nudged her shoulder gently and Shauna swallowed, mouth twisting.

"Sorry, Mari," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have teased about the game. I—um—I didn't know about the Spanish."

"It's okay," Mari replied, only a little begrudging. "But don't do it anymore. It's not nice."

"I know," Shauna shot back, wincing at her own tone. "Sorry."

Mari figured she'd better not reply and make Shauna any more angry when she'd just apologized, so she just nodded and stayed quiet. Van patted her shoulder, which made her think she'd made the right choice.

"Right, so what did we just cover?" Tai directed the question at the table.

"No making fun of Mari for speaking Spanish," Mel said.

"No making fun of anyone for needing a second with words," Tai added, nodding as she pointed a thumbs up at Mel.

The table dissolved into various conversations as people started getting up and disbanding, but Mari didn't much feel like moving away from Van's side. She looked up when Lottie slid into the seat beside her.

"That was brave, Mar," Lottie murmured.

Mari perked up a little. She liked compliments from Lottie. They felt different from Van's constant encouragement and Tai's approving shoulder pats.

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course. I know it probably didn't feel very easy to do."

She nodded, picking at the fraying knee of her jeans.

"Do you remember lots of French?"

Lottie laughed, shaking her head.

"Not really. Mostly the counting and basic stuff," she replied. Mari hummed, mulling it over in her head.

"So you don't ever get it confused with English?"

"I don't," Lottie said. "But I only started learning French when I was a bit older. My brain wasn't as flexible by then."

"Flexible?"

Mari wasn't sure how a brain could be flexible. She was pretty sure that mostly applied to Gen because she could do the splits and a backbend and all kinds of things that Mari wasn't as great at.

"Yeah, you know, brains take up information better when people are really young," Lottie explained. "It's easier to learn languages when you're a kid. Your brain's stickier."

"Oh," Mari hummed. That sorta made sense. She remembered struggling a little with English, but not as badly as her grandmother, who seemed to have trouble remembering to use it most of the time.

"Regardless," Lottie continued, "I'm real proud of you for sticking up for yourself."

"Van did it mostly," Mari said sheepishly, leaning her head against Van's shoulder. The redhead was talking to Tai about something over her head, but she hugged Mari a little closer.

"Aw, take some credit, Mar." Lottie poked at her stomach lightly, smiling at the resulting giggle. "How do you say, 'I'm proud of you' in Spanish?"

Mari chewed at her lip, squinting at Lottie's face to see if she was being serious. She didn't look like she was playing a trick on her and besides, that didn't really seem like something Lottie would do.

"Estoy muy orgullosa de ti," she whispered, repeating it a little louder when Lottie leaned in closer.

Lottie repeated the words slowly, fumbling a little at the pronunciation, but Mari felt a little wiggly at hearing the words echoed back at her. She couldn't stop the grin from stretching across her face, flushing happily as she nodded. Lottie's smile was wide and genuine.

She repeated the phrase again to herself, like she was trying to commit it to memory.

"Your saying it a little wrong," Mari couldn't help but saying, trying to make her voice as nice as she could. "But it's okay because it's mostly right."

"Well, you'll have to teach me some more another time, huh?" Lottie said, standing and brushing a hand over the top of Mari's head. "I'm gonna start dinner, honey, do you want to help?"

Mari nodded, pulling away from Van's side to stand up.

"What are you making?"

Lottie reached up into the cabinet, pulling down the purple notebook that had some of Mari's handwritten recipes clipped inside.

"Why don't you pick?"

"Really?"

"Yep," Lottie chirped, pushing the notebook across the counter for Mari to page through. She bounced excitedly in place as she hunted through for a specific recipe, stomach already growling in anticipation.

"Thanks, Lottie!"

"Yeah, kiddo," she murmured. "Of course."

I hope you enjoyed, anon!

#yellowjackets agere #sfw agere #asks #fic #little!mariibarra #not proofread

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jinniebit · 2 years ago

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Honestly can't believe it has already passed 1000 days since I've decided to stan these 8 dorks haha My experience as a stay has been nothing but incredible even tho I thought I was "too old" to stan a new group (clearly I was wrong)

So to celebrate this I've decided to open my gif requests but with a twist hehe I want you guys to tell me the moment or just the era (if you don't have an specific moment) you became a stay and I will make a gifset for you ^^

Can't wait to know more of your stay stories hehe

And last but definitely not least a special mention under the cut to those who made my stay life even better! Love you guys <33

@chanstopher 🔹 @soonhoonsol 🔹 @hanjesungs 🔹 @seo-changbinnies 🔹 @bangzchan 🔹 @yonglixx 🔹 @xuseokgyu 🔹 @agibbangs 🔹 @chanrizard 🔹 @hyunchanz 🔹 @babycatlix 🔹 @hyunjinz 🔹 @ambivartence 🔹 @wooobinz 🔹 @jinhyun 🔹 @cherry-heartss 🔹 @hanjisungz 🔹 @skz-films 🔹 @juiceofmoons 🔹 @snug-gyu 🔹 @ughbehavior 🔹 @winterfloral 🔹 @yenah-on-top 🔹 @yang-innie 🔹 @missyedits 🔹 @lee-minhoe 🔹 @minhosblr 🔹 @lovenee 🔹 @strayklds 🔹 @oiminho 🔹 @quokki 🔹 @brightermorepls 🔹 @minchanz 🔹 @changbeens 🔹 @hongamon 🔹 @boba-skz 🔹 @leenope 🔹 @thnx4thefish 🔹 @happysmilebtr 🔹 @pillbug-hanjis 🔹 @lixence 🔹 @woodziecup 🔹 @ggthydrangea 🔹 @haenglixie 🔹 @yangjeongin 🔹 @wahgifs 🔹 @wisteriya 🔹 @noonaracha

#1000 days with skz #anna.txt #personal #stray kids

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stagbells · 6 months ago

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From: @pollyannam3

To: @nochromity

Note: "Noch, I have been buzzing since the day I found out I would get to write for you. You are one of my best friends in the world and getting to make this for you has been the highlight of the month for me. I hope you like all of my headcanons and that I did your pairings justice!! I love you so much, my friend! You are so very very dear to me, I can't imagine a better friend!

You light up my life and always make me feel loved and safe <333"

Link to written work: (Here)

“You should not run so far, you know not how quick we can follow. Other things can be faster, and if you’re foolhardy I can’t guarantee your safety.”

This voice was not heeded, as Quirrel excitedly waved for them to follow. Nailmaster Oro was following, but was being easily outpaced by the pillbug.

“Oro, my love, my nettle, you need to see this immediately. Small jabs like that can wait!”

He crossed under a natural arch in the Kingdom’s edge, pausing under the shade to let his companion catch up.

“I say that not for myself.” Oro finally caught up to Quirrel, and they both turned and heard, “HEY DON’T STOP-”

From the distance, Tiso crossed the expanse, albeit with a staggering limp supported by a simple cane. It helped immensely with his balance, since he was missing an arm now.

It took him a moment but he finally caught up with his partners, despite the wobbliness.

Oro regarded Tiso with his usual blank look, but said with a concern in his voice, “Really, take up my father on the physical therapy advice.”

Tiso responded by playfully jabbing Oro with the end of his cane, “I got it!”

“You won’t win this fight. You’re practically out of breath.” “Try me!”

Quirrel grabbed Tiso by the shoulder and Oro by the neck of his cloak, gently pulling their humorous spat apart. “We’re here for a reason, dears.”

Tiso and Oro huffed, and gave Quirrel their attention. “I found this place while hunting, and thought you both would adore this view for a pleasant outing. I figure after your surgery and your visit with your brothers, you could both use just. A day to sit.” He gestured at both of his dears, who nodded. They were both going through big things.

Healing from wounds physical and emotional.

Quirrel waved again, and they followed him through the arch and across the last bit of the path.

They came across a cavern, extending to what felt like infinity off the edge of the cliff. The buzz of aspids was near, but far enough away to not worry. All they could hear was the chug of Boofly wings.

“So your plan for us is to sit, do nothing, and watch booflies be brainless?” Tiso gestured his fingers to the view, flabbergasted.

Quirrel sat down, kicking his feet off the edge of the cliff. “It is a wonderful view. You could talk, if you like. You like hearing that voice of yours.”

“...You got me there.” Tiso moved to sit next to Quirrel, Oro following to help him. Without a word, the large bug gently sat Tiso down so his torso wouldn’t be aggravated.

Tiso looked up at him, a look of silent thanks.

Oro looked down, a look of silent gratitude to be needed. He stood there. For a hot second.

“Oro, you may sit too, nettle dear.”

“Oh…Oh, correct.” Oro plopped down, crossing his legs above the cliff instead of risking them below.

They all sat, and the quiet set in. The only noises were the ambience of the bugs below, Tiso stretching and his back cracking, or Quirrel taking the old cracked glasses off of his head to give them a squeaky clean on the cloak Oro had given him. The little squeak, squeak, squeak combined with him putting them back on the top of his head made Tiso ask, “Do you even need those?”

“Ah, no, they aren’t my prescription, anyways.”

“Then why do you have them…?”

“They belonged to an old dear friend of mine, is all. Passed long ago.”

Tiso hummed, thinking about his shield, hung up at their lovely little home. “That’s nice of you, what of you, big guy?” Tiso looked at Oro, wondering if he related to such a story.

“Do not call me “big guy” or I will go back to calling you “Runt”, Tiso.”

Tiso waved his arm down, “Hey, I’m just playing.”

“Find out if I am.”

Tiso gave Oro a little shove, “Do you have any cool keepsakes or what?”

Oro flicked his hand, making Quirrel chuckle at their antics. Always entertaining, the two of them.

“Not many. None of importance.” Oro put his hands in his lap, fiddling with two of his fingers. Feeling the cracked shell underneath, trying to think if he wanted to share.

“Ah, I see, You revel in being boring at times.” Tiso spoke, so blunt Oro could almost mistake his partner’s voice for his brother’s.

“Hey-” Quirrel gave him a gentle smack with the back of his palm to Tiso’s shoulder. “Ow-” Tiso said, despite having little to no feeling on that side of his body.

Oro put a hand on the side of his head, fiddling with his mask as he thought. He didn’t know if he wanted to share: but they both shared things like this often. At least knowledge of their existence.

“I have a moth wing-feather. Old books from my father. Pots that held childhood meals, things like that.”

That made both Quirrel and Tiso pipe up. “What was that?” Quirrel asked, inquisitive but with an air of lightness.

Oro grew confused, “Books from my father?”

“Where’d you get a moth feather???” Tiso blurted, making Oro regret his words. He reached up and pulled down his bandanna, to almost try and cover his eyes.

“Ah that, a loathsomely boring story, you’ll find it ridiculous and odd. I should not share.”

Tiso, in a tizzy, tried to stand in fiery passion for his answer.

“You can’t not share! You’re telling me our beloved broody spark of a nailmaster got close enough to a moth to get a FEATHER and refuses to tell us how?? Like-”

Quirrel put a hand on Tiso’s shoulder, and pulled him back to sit before he fell in an awkward way for his injuries. “We did not pry for your precious story. We will not pry for Oro’s. Is that alright, my nettle?”

Oro nodded, and Tiso could only pout and attempt to cross his arms by just wrapping the one around his body, tucking his hand under his small stump.

“Let us set our own pace, and be calm with one another. The last thing we need is an argument and for one of you to get thrown off this edge to the spikes below.” Quirrel ran his hand over his headscarf and adjusted it, giving both of them a look, “If you cause that fight, I will not leap to the rescue and injure my back.” Quirrel scolded, mostly Tiso, who just coughed and mumbled under his breath about just being curious. They went back to a slightly tense silence.

Oro closed his eyes and went into his thoughts. Quirrel pulled up a leg and let out a small sigh of relief.

Tiso rubbed his residual arm, and looked at the booflies.

He wished they could just go catch one, eat, and then go home to amend the awkwardness.

The gusts of wind from the Fool’s falling grave was getting a bit cold. If there was anything he hated more than his partners being upset, it was the cold with his injuries.

It made the ant begin to shiver, the naturally coldest of the three of them. He then felt a heavy warmth come over him, and saw Oro quietly putting half of his cloak around Tiso.

Tiso looked up at him, and gave him a small smile. Oro just kept looking down, as if what he was doing was unconscious. Quirrel saw them move into a small cuddle, and scooted closer to join. It was calming, the protection against the winds on top of the buzzing below.

It felt…safe. They should all just sit, and be safe, despite their quarrel.

The thrill of sparring and hunting was top tier in Tiso’s heart, but he could see it in Oro and Quirrel’s postures. This was better.

Oro felt Tiso melt closer to him, and in turn Quirrel pressed more into Tiso. A line of falling into comfort. A comfort that he has no idea how he could get used to it like this. Not again, at least.

Not since he was young.

Not since…

Since he was…

…Safe.

He held onto Quirrel with one hand, and adjusted Tiso’s poor posture with the other, moving to fully shield them. He bent his head close to Tiso, and whispered.

“The feather was from an old friend.”

Tiso looked up at him with wide eyes, but a claw booped him gently. “Shh.” Oro said, gesturing to Quirrel who was, hilariously, already dozing in the warmth.

“Oh…” Tiso adjusted himself, and let Quirrel settle down into his lap as Oro held the two of them close.

The quiet turned back to comfortable, as the chug of boofly wings and the buzz of bees lulled it into being.

Oro looked over his partners, and reveled in that.

He knew where that feather was, a keepsake of the past.

Of a Past love. A love that was so short lived but so dear. He hoped to keep blue headscarfs and canes that fold into nails away from the keepsakes. He wanted them to keep where they were for now.

He wanted them both there. In his arms, despite any grumbling or huffing that usually comes with cuddles, he loved every moment of it.

He wonders how he earned it, as Tiso dozes too. He keeps him upright for his poor back.

The isolated nailmaster, sitting on the edge of the world.

The crushed gladiator, sleeping on the edge of the world.

The retired scholar, resting on the edge of the world.

To ever find warmth, and comfort, and love, and light, and everything in between.

Sticking together, no matter how hard life throws them down, they’ll never be thrown away.

They would grow beyond the edge, and break the boundaries. One precious moment at a time.

After, a short nap, of course. As they doze, bees and booflies circling curiously about, they know it can't be long before they’re bothered.

It’s no mind.

The edge of the world’s change would wait for them.

#stagbells #stagbells2024 #hollow knight #somehow this one fell through the cracks of my inbox!! im very sorry!

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smashpages · 1 year ago

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Out this week: A Pillbug Story (Black Panel Press, $19.99):

Allison Conway combines humor and terror in the story of Millie the pillbug, who tries to enjoy her summer and figure out where she fits in during her very short lifespan.

See what other comics and graphic novels will arrive in comic shops this week.

#allison conway #a pillbug story #pillbugs #comics #new comic book day #ncbd #new comics day #new comics #graphic novels #black panel press

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lilcreaturethingfromthewoods · 10 months ago

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Psycho pass is a very deep, well-told story about justice, society and the importance that lies in the choices we make for ourselves. The best fight scene is a tiny robotic pillbug fending off a swarm of evil wasp drones

#that pillbug is a severely underrated character #psycho pass #psycho pass 3

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rustbeltjessie · 2 months ago

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Ditch-Lily Witch-Lily Cyclone Prophet

I legend I the redhead who slutted brought the summerstorm clouds I drank the sextuple shot espresso vibrated manicspeed I roamed northwoods fed deer snuffed candles so no flowers caught fire I hung staghorns in the branches of cemetery trees

I rust daze played dusty folksongs on bloodstained guitars I Jesus el Gallo I bad mojo all nightlong saw seventeen angry visions in the flare of passing headlights I ouijaed the deadroads wandered the backroads from here to the stateline

I pagan saint I silver pillbug in pack of smokes HALLELUJAH

I redlight streaks of the badmoon zipping low tiny greenlights dewdrop drip from pinebough blueorbs hovering above the roadsides eyes of roadkill redglare in the headlights corpselights in the groundfog

I hoarfrost I lure I carcrash in the pines, in the pines

I suicide I necromance I played an oompah in a forest cemetery woke the spiders and the settler dead with my accordion hands I illicit outlaw snuck underage sex and cigarettes I pirate smuggled rum in the folds of my skirt ran through boneyards in dead of hallonight screamed eighty mph down twisting roadcurves

I stick & poked runes on nicotine fingers I moths against the window stole kisses from barroom girls leapt tall bottles of whiskey in a single bound screamed along to Tom Petty on the jukebox

NO I WON’T BACK DOWN slamdancing in the road

I used to go all night long

I house for haints rat poison and dead radios I windowscreens oxidizing into green I mouth graffiti GOIN’ MY WAY?

I Death’s Door I tempestarii turned blue waters black / clear skies cloudy I bitters drink it down

I invocation I sailor stormwitch criminal warrior I crossed back through Death’s Door built cairns for fellow travelers in my black hood wrote secret stories for the girls

I KISSED THE GIRLS AND MADE THEM CRY

I curse I bones and mullein I wore blue highways like silver rings of wolves and skulls charms against the evil eye I witch spit on the reddirt earth I ballad I nicotine buzz I bees in the Queen Anne’s Lace hum of cars along the highway wind creaking in the cedar trees

I shanty I sing

I SET THE FLOWERS ON FIRE

yo ho yo ho

—Jessie Lynn McMains, NaPoWriMo 2025, Day 20 (from my own "tall tale autobiography" prompt)

#jessie lynn mcmains #my writing #poetry #napowrimo #napowrimo 2025 #tall tales #autobiography #door county #personal mythology #i have been trying to write this poem for YEARS #like nearly a decade!#i wrote a version (very different from this one) back in 2018 #but ultimately it felt like something was missing / something wasn’t working #so i orphaned it #but something finally broke it open and i finally wrote a draft/version i’m actually pretty happy with

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spybrarian · 1 year ago

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Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @storyspinner91 a while back but I was in Australia!

Who'd like to play? I've tagged a few people in the questions themselves, but maybe also... @onlyshestandsthere, @expensivefate, @jayenator565, @commanderbuffy @geek-and-nina if you like?

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

19, which feels *wild*! 19!!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

221,606

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Willow! Just Willow, these days. Tanthamore have my heart.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

one night at the start of the end of the world - my Shattered Sea one shot, tender tender Tanthamore, and there's only one bed, and it's the birthplace of pillbug Kit, and the fic where I worked out how much I liked writing them looking after each other. I'm glad this one is other people's favourite, too.

more than just survival - my multichapter canon story about Jade as she grows up, from when she was a kid in Tir Asleen to what happens after they return from the quest. Also a 5+1 (five times Kit made Jade blush and the one time Jade got her back).

The Pieces - kinkverse modern au short stories, a collaboration with @acre-of-wheat and @swashbucklery. I've written The Spider, The Mile High Club, The Maintenance and The Holes.

kiss me, kill me - my Bone Reaver Jade au, Jade busts into Tir Asleen to kidnap the princess and ends up getting got herself, in so many ways.

I scream at your chest for as long as I must - a post canon one shot, just after they return from the quest. Jade grieves for Ballantyne and Kit learns how to walk with her though her grief.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I like to!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't know - I can tell you my darkest premises (probably the very canon divergent the cellar door is an open throat aka the barbed wire, Kit Jade and Elora in a dungeon au) but even the ending of that one finishes with a glimmer of hope.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Huh, I think with most of my fics I tend to go for hopeful endings over happy ones. I think my most *satisfying*, hopeful ending I wrote was Samaras (an Architect of Catastrophe story) that I wrote as a present for @wigster07. I'm really, really pleased with that one. It's about rebuilding after tragedy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't, and am very grateful for that.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Do I ever?! What kind? What *kind*?! The gay kind. Aside from the aforementioned kinkverse, I've also got a canon based smut series (my kissing fics!) called There's not a step we can take that does not bring us closer where Kit and Jade are inventing all the different ways they love being together.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? and 11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope and nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also nope - although Juliette made [Podfic of] one night at the start of the end of the world where she read this fic GORGEOUSLY! It's there for download if you want to listen.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've collaborated! I haven't done a true co-writing thing for this fandom but, there's the kinkverse series in which I'm in deep cohorts with Acre and J, the singing cowboy fic I wrote into J's (cowboy) take me away (tanthamore rdr2 au). I love them both - they push me in new directions, and the feedback loop of inspiration is an utter joy.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Tanthamore, hands down

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I plan on finishing them all. Yes even Wyrm Jade/I'll be the sweetest thing to ever scare you, yes I know it's been a hot minute. I do have genuine plans to finish.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Coming up with phrases/images that people remember, that's probably the part I get a kick out of the most. I think my pacing and character and words in general are all pretty good, but writing callbacks to earlier in the story, or getting the foreshadowing right, are two of my favourite things to play with.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get repetitive - mostly I manage to catch this in edits, but ho boy do I know how to say the same thing over and over.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm not fluent in anything other than English so I haven't used dialogue in other languages in any of my fics - unless you count the Ancient Angoran in 'kiss me kill me'.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Dragonball Z, an epic written by hand in double spaced lines over several exercise books ;)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I'm really proud of 'one night' and 'more than just survival' but there is a special place in my heart for Let's take a knife and cut the world in two and its follow up there is light somewhere (it may not be much light but it beats the darkness) - my Exorcist Jade/possessed Kit au. The strange not-canon, not-modern, some-mix-of-the-two world that I made for that one is my *favourite*.

#tanthamore #willow 2022 #jade claymore #kit tanthalos #fic asks #willow

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kyliafanfiction · 6 months ago

Note

If you were going to extend your most recent oneshot, do you have any thoughts on how capturing Taylor and Lisa, and whatever they wind up doing as part of their new status quo, would affect Amy's development? (Potentially in a pillbug way?)

(For future readers, this is in reference to my fic 'A Mile In My Sister's Shoes', wherein a power-swapper swaps Amy and Vicky's powers for a week... a day before the bank robbery. This leads to, among other things, Tattletale and Taylor getting arrested in the aftermath of the robbery and also Amy outing herself as Gay to Victoria)

Lisa would probably fold on Coil (who would no doubt have a backup or two to cover his ass on this, so he's probably fine, if potentially out a secret base and some burner phones and stuff) and get moved to another city.

Taylor probably gets drafted into the Wards and Piggot trades some favors with Brandish to make Amy regrow Taylor's punched out teeth. Armsmaster probably gets demoted a month early for his shennanigans (namely, not telling anyone about his conversation with the bug girl, etc). This isn't too much of a stretch, IMO, because he did get demoted in canon anyway, so one assumes he was already on thin ice. Maybe.

After that - Sophia Shennanigans probably need to get resolved somehow, but Taylor may not have the leverage to force any issue. On the other hand, once Sophia was outed for her sins in canon, she was sent to juvie, so... hard to say. Let's assume she's out at some point. What role she plays in Amy's story is really open. On the one hand, obviously both would have had a very bad first impression (what with Amy knocking her out, breaking her face and punching out teeth, and Taylor using black widows to threaten civilians, with her rather absurd 'undercover plan). I suspect they'd have bad interactions at first, which probably leaves them bad for good - Taylor tends to let first impressions decide things for her, a lot, though not always.

Maybe they end up managing to get along after a suitable crisis or two, and Victoria might get super eager about bug modifications Amy could do for Taylor (I suspect if anyone pulls Taylor into a friendly orbit of Amy, it's Victoria, being the power nerd extrovert that she is) and that leads to some teamup? Which, if they team up long enough or during a crisis, could lead to them building some bridges. It's a big if, but it's not impossible.

(Though the fact that both Amy and Vicky have a pretty black/white view of the world at this point could see them never really be friendly with Taylor no matter what)

If they can end up building bridges, then maybe, given time, maybe Pillbug happens. But it would be a pretty slow-burn prospect.

If I were to continue this oneshot, for a change of pace, I'd probably go with Levi attacks Miami, though I would not hold myself accountable to Wildbow's little quasi-fanfic about what if Levi had attacked Miami (or I might have Levi attack somewhere else entirely) which probably stops S9 from attacking the Bay which keeps things street level for longer.

Coil does his Coiling, E88 does their E88ing, Bakuda has her bomb scheme go off after the bank robbery, and Lung still presumably escapes, etc, so something like that all still happens. Fossberg of course doesn't happen, and Coil's whole scheme will need reworking, but Thomas Calvert's mother presumably didn't raise a quitter, so he'll try something eventually. And he does still have Dinah.

#Amy Dallon #Asked and Answered #Earth-Bets That Weren't #Kylia Talks Her Fics

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trans-queen-administrator · 2 years ago

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Worm Fanfic Recs

No rankings at play here, just my favorite fics that I think other are really good. There are fics I like that aren't listed because I have a bad memory, but everything here is something I really really enjoyed. I have biases obviously, this isn't objective.

The Fics

Our Private Crises - A nailbiting murder mystery with unique and well done POVs from a different character each chapter. The mystery and reveal at the end were stellar, and it got me attached to characters I never thought I'd care for. 29k words. Complete.

It's Cold Out There Every Day - Missy is trapped in a time loop on her birthday. Genuinely stellar characterization, it has the best Missy and Aisha I've ever read and its such a creative and well executed premise. 41k words. Complete.

Tilt - Unpowered homeless girl Taylor fakes a thinker power to get in the Wards and secure housing. She's even more self destructive and self deprecating than in canon. 10/10 characterization for a slew of POV characters including Taylor, every ward but especially Sophia, Rachel, Lisa, and a ton of other characters. Despite not going through all of what canon Taylor went through, this fic nails her character better than pretty much any others. 220k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.

Tear Apart, Stitch Together - Taylor triggers with Shatterbird's power and kills thousands. Short and sweet, everything that's there is great and it wraps up well I think. 13k words. Complete

Memories of a Simurgh Victim - The Simurgh attacks Brockton Bay. Has two storylines, one following Taylor and one following Amy and Vicky. Among the most fucked up things this fandom has to offer, a terrifying showcase of the Simurgh and her power. 62k words. Taylor's story is incomplete but the Amy and Victoria story is done.

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Pleasures - Cherish altpower Taylor tries to consensually fix Amy's incest fetish. A trainwreck I can't look away from, the worlds first psychological horror romcom. It's so fucked up and so amazingly funny, and has good well written characters. I don't like Pillbug and I'm not a big fan of altpowers, but this fic is still one of my favorites because it's so damn compelling so definitely check it out if you actually like either of those things. 211k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.

Roots - The Slaughterhouse Nine attack a small town with a roster of OC capes, but something is very off about the place. POV shifts every chapter, and the OCs are interesting and unique. The S9 are also wonderfully characterized here, I've never had a fic make me sad for Crawler of all people. 67k words at time of posting. Ongoing. Criminally underrated.

Roma Fade - Ciara and Fortuna both try to grow past who they were as capes and find themselves as people in a small town post Gold Morning, having found common ground posing as moms to a recovering Taylor. I'm sure fake dating would never end in real attraction, that would be absurd. Incredibly gay, incredible characterization for everyone, the best post-GM fic around in my opinion. 87k words at time of posting. Ongoing but currently on hiatus.

Case - Lisa and the Simurgh start a detective agency. It's just great humor and a lovely story and wonderful despite being short and deceased. 14k words. Dead.

Silence is not Consent - Taylor intervenes and saves Victoria from Amy and gives her a place to stay, Victoria massively struggles dealing with what happened. Amazing characterization, Victoria's POV is unique and incredibly well done, and her seeing Taylor from an outside perspective is interesting. Be warned that this is a very heavy fic emotionally, but it's really fucking good. 212k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.

A Word - Altpower Taylor is obsessed with writing a story. I don''t know how to describe this fic honestly it's hard to do justice, but it has perhaps the best conclusion to Gold Morning I've seen in a fanfic. 11k words. Complete.

Scarab - A fantasy AU where powers are thought to be magic, and the Faerie Queen takes an interest in Taylor. Filled to the brim with creativity and passion, this fic is teeming with fresh ideas and interesting depictions of canon characters. The worldbuilding is great as well, no other fic on this list has a map, so this is clearly a cut above the rest. 139k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.

Swallowtail - Ok I lied this one has a map too. Taylor with an incredibly interesting stranger power joins Faultline's crew. There is a truly astounding amount of AU elements and alternate powers for canon characters, it feels like a new world while still being recognizable and distinctly Worm. Has a large amount of alternate POVs and the first arc can be rough, but it's creative and amazing. 360k words. Ongoing but currently on haitus.

Soliloquy - Ex-Slaughterhouse 9 Taylor is in prison, bitter at the world and herself and especially her clone who saved the multiverse. A heavy fic about someone slowly recovering and becoming a better person when they're convinced it can't be done. Made me cry. 71k words. Complete.

TWNY - Post-GM Taylor finds herself in the world of RWBY with a pair of moth antennae. Multiple POVs, all very interesting despite me knowing nothing of RWBY. Probably the best characterization of Taylor in any post-GM crossover fic, she's heartbreaking in the recent arc, and it feels like the fic has barely scratched the surface of what it'll eventually cover. Also it's very gay. 136k words. Ongoing.

The Great Escape - Eidolon is struggling after his reputation is destroyed and Cauldron is revealed, and then the Birdcage opens. Amazing use of seldom seen characters, great POV with Eidolon, well done and interesting fights, has String Theory. 107k words. Ongoing but currently on haitus.

Happiness Is Inevitable - NSFW. The only damn erotic mind control Simurgh smut in the fandom somehow. Besides the porn (which is a lot of the fic, who woulda thunk it) the story itself is actually pretty interesting and has a lot of creative parts, and it has better characterization than most fics. 29k words. Ongoing?

Oneshots

Break me so that I can be whole - This accursed fandom is tragically bereft of QA / Taylor fics, but this one shot is great, love an eldritch take on shards. Probably fucked up but I'm not actually a good judge of that so be warned. 1.8k words.

Book Worm - Dragon helps teach Taylor how to read and speak and understand language post-GM. Bittersweet and lovely. 2.5k words.

Defiant Didn't Dox Saint For Nothing! - Taylor goes back in time and the first thing she does is kill Saint because he sucks. Cracky but I like it, fun little oneshot. 1.6k words.

Ruling Ash - Glory Girl flees Brockton Bay during the Slaughterhouse Nine and ends up living with Damsel of Distress. Cute, and Starsong before Ward is very interesting. 2.8k words.

My Sunshine - Leviathan goes worse and Brockton Bay is destroyed. Taylor and Victoria survive. Very somber, but well executed. 3.4k words.

Cherry on Top - A character study of Cherie Vasil, showing how she went from running away from Heartbreaker to joining the Nine. Extremely well written, absolutely incredible depiction of her character. It depicts abuse and actions typical of Heartbreaker and Cherie, so be careful reading. It's a lot emotionally. 12.7k words.

Devil in a New Dress - NSFW. Shatterbird / Reader, I'm not explaining myself on this one. Neat Shatterbird characterization, hot, pretty fucked up so be warned. 1.7k words.

#worm #parahumans #wormfic #idk why I spent two hours on this but I don't regret it #all my opinions are OBJECTIVE FACT #i have NO biases or preferences #I am simpley correct #made this because im so fucking sick of sifting through anime altpowers and woobified characters and the infinite period guy #so i might as well make it easier for others who may be sick of that #hope yall enjoy and maybe find a new fic from this #also full transparency #im behind on a few of the updating fics #but I loved what i read enough to rec them

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