#and how surprisingly accurate some of the fic was

[iysure]

just girl-best-roommate things

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

------

See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/

[winterdaphne2]

Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)

I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.

I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.

1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.

Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”

This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.

2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.

Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.

Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.

3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”

This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.

4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.

The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.

A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).

5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”

This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!

6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.

The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.

7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.

This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.

8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.

Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.

This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.

And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!

Happy reading 😊

[swrkn]

Hello!!! I really love your Oliver fic 😭 could you do joker or sangho just fluff if it's fine ofc I'm not forcing ❤️

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Joker (hajun) x g/n reader

Genre : fluff ; sfw

Author note : thank you so much for your request, and thank you for the compliment on my first fic :)) i have a fic for joker in my drafts, so for now im gonna do some headcanons , and I’ll publish it later ! Also those are my personal headcanons , so if you don’t think my headcanons are accurate, please don’t be mean 🙏

Author note 2 : i really enjoyed doing those headcanons so i think i’ll do more , and also some with sangho since you asked ;) My request are open !!

⇨ Protective

Joker is low-key protective of Y/N, though he'd never openly admit it. If they're biking together, he'll instinctively put himself on the side closer to traffic or obstacles, keeping an eye out without making a big deal of it.

When you and Hajun go for a night ride through busy streets, he'll always position himself on your left side, closer to traffic. You notices he does this every time but never points it out, as it's his way of protecting you. One night, a car honks a bit too close, and without thinking, Joker reaches out, gently steering her closer to him. "You alright?" he asks, trying to sound casual, but his hand stays on your arm until he's sure you’re safe.

⇨ Act Tough But Melts Around You

Joker has a "tough-guy" image, but you are the one person who can break through that. When you're alone, he's surprisingly affectionate and lets his guard down. Play with your hair, hold your hand, and even rest his head on your shoulder if he's tired.

After a tough day at practice, Joker shows up at your place looking frustrated and tired. You open the door, pulling him into a hug. He stiffens for a second, but then relaxes, letting himself melt into your warmth. He doesn't say much, just rests his head on your shoulder, breathing in deeply as she rubs his back.You tease him for "acting soft," and he just grumbles, "Only for you."

⇨ Late-Night Talks

Sometimes, You and Joker will have deep, late-night conversations that can last for hours.You both stay up talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between. He trusts you in a way he never trusted anyone, and you’re the one person he feels like he can be his true self around.He's opened up to you about his insecurities and what it's like balancing being a big brother with his own goals.

One summer night, you're lying side by side on a quiet rooftop, staring up at the stars. Joker starts talking about his childhood, sharing stories he rarely tells anyone, while you listen quietly, sometimes just holding his hand when he pauses. You opens up too, and you spend hours sharing memories and dreams, both of them feeling like they're closer than ever.He tells you things he never told anyone, realizing how much he trusts you.

⇨ Lets You Braid His Hair

One day, as a joke, you suggested to braid his hair, thinking he'd refuse. But to your surprise, he agreed, even if he tried to play it off like he didn't care.Now it's a little tradition between you and him. When you're just relaxing, you'll braid his hair, and he'll sit quietly, feeling oddly at peace. He actually finds it relaxing but would be mortified if anyone else knew.

During a lazy afternoon, you were both watching a movie a his house , with him leaning on you, letting you style his hair. As you braid, you notice he's relaxed, eyes half-closed, enjoying the quiet moment. Later, when his two littles brothers came in and burst out laughing, Joker just shrugs. "What ? She did a good job." he says nonchalantly, not caring about what his brothers are saying.

⇨ Always Comes Back to You

No matter how long his day's been or how tired he is, Joker always finds himself wanting to see you. You are his safe space, the person who keeps him grounded, and whenever he's with you, he feels like he finally found a place to rest. He doesn't say it often, but he thinks you are his world, and every ride, every victory, every day somehow feels better just knowing you are there , beside him

One evening, after an exhausting day, he texts you, asking if you’re free. When you agree to meet him, he feels his mood lift immediately. You don't have to do anything special; just being with you is enough to make everything feel better.

⇨ A Stubborn Romantic

Joker tries to act like he doesn't care about romance, but deep down, he's more romantic than he lets on. He'll surprise you by cooking your favorite meals, remember small things you mentioned about yourself, and even bring you your favourite treats every now and then. On special occasions, he'll even plan something for you, like a ride at dawn or a picnic by the river, even if he insists he's "not doing anything fancy."

For your birthday, Joker plans a quiet picnic next to a hidden river. He pretends it's "no big deal," but he packed your favorite snacks and even brought a small blanket to sit on. When you ask him if he went to all this trouble just for her, he simply says, "Don't get used to it." But the sparkle in your eyes , and seeing you this happy , was enough for him to know that if he can see you this happy , he would do it again and again.

✵

[seonghwaswifereal]

OT8 SKZ

(I'm putting this at the start of every list, so ignore it if you want)

Just wanna say that this is pretty much just for me to catalog all the fics and random things that I like, so idk, just enjoy it if you want lol

Full Name

Calling them their full name in bed, VERY mixed reactions, a little icky tbh I still like it tho

Subspace

Some INTENSE fucking in the beginning, soo so fluffy, this Bin has me in Literal tears lol

Fave Way Of Getting You Off

Thigh riding *cue foaming at the mouth* toys, and much more

Virginity

Kind of it, Chan's is super duper cute, Seungmo being surprisingly soft lol

Kinks

Public stuff, begging, kinda what you'd expect tbh

Live

Givin' em brain while they're live, Min singing a song??? like??

Calling Him Daddy

Himbo Binnie, I really like Chan's, rough, cute lil drabble

Hyung Line X Virgin Reader

Nosy ass Hyunjin, Riding Binnie bc of course

Maknae Line X Virgin Reader

Sweet Jisung :( rough Min, Innies is in public lol

Perv Maknae Line

Jisung w. a chewing(?) kink, Jisung that likes to get pegged, hairband-stealer Lix??? Seungmo w. a breeding kink, wet dreams-Innie has me in a literal CHOKEHOLD

Munch

MunchSKZ needs more fics fr

Personal Time

How and what they use to jack off, SeungIn's is my fav

Lingerie

Sending them texts of you in lingerie, it's so mmm but so fluffy at the same time

TwT Links

*Gasp* A masterlist in another list???? lol

Pullout

Binnie being a respectful boy, Innie being a worrywart, Hannie can't control hisself

Car Ride

Sooo... this one is a little, uh yeah, tw for... piss, please don't judge meeee, literally so hot thooo, Hannie's basically a toilet

Sub Sandwich Hyung Line

Your first time subbing, Chan's could quite literally send me to the psych ward if I let it, hair pulling, overstim, and dacryphilia, yum

Contact Names

Honestly made me chuckle, cutie patootie Bin

Sharing Is Caring (MeanRacha)

Double pen. in one hole, my favorite hehe, Innie's BIG, cnc bracelet except it's not really

Can I Kiss You?

So cute God, nervous Minho :( lmao you're already fucking Binnie before kissing him? sure, Innies is so, just, domestic it's adorableee

Favorite Positions Hyung Line

STRONG Bin, ass guy Min, cuddling Jin, and riding Chan. Perfection

Appearance

The Most accurate headcannons on how their schlongs look imo

When You Struggle To Eat

Super adorable drabble, 2Min's are my favorite

Reward

Who and why the think that getting/ giving head is a reward

Choreo

It's so fucking funny istg

Favorite Place To Kiss You

Gaahhhh tummy kisses with Binnn, also Min's is so like.. surprisingly romantic, I'm in love

TwT Links And Descriptions

I honestly just saved this one for the links

With A Sleepy S/O

Cute and pretty short, it's here to give you a little dopamine boost :)

Mice

Guys, I- this genuinely made me chuckle

Mishaps

Snapshots of them making mistakes in bed lol, ex. banging your head against the wall...

[beybaldes]

one single thread of gold tied me to you

sejanus plinth x gn!reader

masterlist

summary: Sejanus Plinth sits on the steps of the academy with you by his side. Things may be bad, but there are worse places you could be

warnings: NO relation between reader and snow I might die if I see another fic where reader is his twin (not that they aren’t good fics, they are so good!!! I just don’t look like him at all 😭😭😭 free me), little angst but mostly fluff, ONE use of y/n, hehehehehe i posses evil powers

an: okay I know Ive not posted in like forever but I saw BOSBAS and fell in LOVE 🥲 technically spoilers and won’t be 100% book/movie accurate im going with straight vibes for this one :D enjoy!!

Sejanus Plinth was never meant to cross your path, let alone take violent root in your heart. In every other universe he never left district two and you never bumped into him on the playground at 8 years old, wondering where on earth he must have come from. There wasn’t such a thing as a ‘new kid’ in the capital, and yet, you had found one.

Or rather, he’d found you. You’d been chasing Arachne Crane around the playground in a game of tag, too focused on trying to catch her and not focused enough on the tree root that stuck out of the ground in front of you. There’d been no time to react, but sweet, gentle, wonderful Sejanus Plinth had caught you by the arm, his grip so firm you’d had his fingerprints bruised into your skin for weeks after. But he’d saved you from scraping your knee against the ground, and he held you up until you’d steadied yourself, and then he’d walked away without a word. Arachne had disappeared from your sight and you were suddenly infatuated with the mass of brown curls that were walking to the far side of the playground; you felt as though you had no choice but to chase after him instead.

Shivering at the thought that in another life you’d befriended the likes of Felix Ravenstill or Festus Creed instead, you reached out for Sejanus’s hand between the tables the mentors were made to sit at to watch the games. Surprisingly, he was receptive to your touch, tightly interlocking your fingers and hoping it would provide him with more comfort then you both knew it ever could.

As Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, the capitals weatherman, began to introduce the game to viewers watching from the comfort of their homes, Sejanus’s grip on your hand only got tighter, his hands beginning to tremble slightly as the screen at the front of the grand room began to show the tributes entering the area. As images of the tributes being pushed, dragged and shoved into their starting places crossed the screen, your thumb ran across the back of his hand, hoping you could make the shaking of his clammy palm against yours stop.

Slowly the cameras in the arena moved their focus from the tributes waiting for the games to start, and instead zoomed in on Marcus, hung by his bloodied hands on the fallen debris caused by the rebel attack.

“Oh my God.” Gasping the words out, you couldn’t tear your eyes from the sight, and you would’ve held onto Sejanus’s hand tighter if you were still holding it. Instead his hand was torn from yours as he stood among the other mentors, flinging his desk and device across the room with a rage you’d never seen in him before.

“You’re monsters!” He cried, hands scrunched into fists by his side, tears filling his eyes as he addressed the room before him. Peers, Sejanus didn’t dare call them friends, and teachers alike stood in silence, refusing to feed into his outrage and refusing to speak against the regime they had been raised in. Though some of them had never known anything different then a life with the hunger games, it didn’t take anything more then a heart in your chest to know how wrong it was. Even if Sejanus hadn’t known Marcus from his time in district 2, he was the same age as him, he had a family and friends back home hoping he would return to them, he was a living, breathing person who shouldn’t have had to fight for his life because his name was drawn from a hat. “All of you!”

Sejanus stormed out of the room, and you would’ve been hot on his heels if Coriolanus hadn’t grabbed you, holding you to your seat. “Just wait.” You didn’t understand at first, furious that Coriolanus would try and stop you from going after Sejanus to see if he was okay, but as he silently pointed at Mr Flickerman, you understood. Following Sejanus should wait ten seconds while Lucky counted down to the official beginning of the Hunger games and you could sneak away unnoticed. While you were never particularly fond of Coriolanus Snow, you could appreciate his brain and how it ticked.

When the ten long seconds were finally up, you sprung from your seat, a whispered thank you to Coriolanus as you snuck around the outside of the seated mentors, all of whom were enamoured with the screen. As you left the building in search of Sejanus, you briefly worried he’d be nowhere to be found, having run far away from the academy in hope he could escape everything. However, he’d been quite easy to find, hunched over himself on the steps of the academy, his arms wrapped around his knees and curled into himself as his shoulders jumped with strained breaths. A part of you prayed you’d never have to see him like this again.

“Sejanus?” His head snapped to face you, furiously wiping away the frustrated tears that had rolled down his cheeks and forcing something that tried to be a smile on his face. A frown pulled on your lips as your met his eyes, quickly crossing the steps until you were beside him. “Oh, Sejanus.”

“Did you see what they did to him?” His voice trembled as he spoke, hiccuping in breathes as he tried to tell you what he was thinking, tried to nullify the crippling ache in his chest. With the escape of a whimper from the back of his throat, your hands came to cup his face, caressing his cheeks and simultaneously wiping away any tears that crossed your path. “What they’re doing to all of them?”

“I know, I know.” You cooed, knowing there was nothing you could do to change things. All you could do right now was make your Sejanus feel better, though you worried even your best wouldn’t be enough. “It is wrong and cruel, so, so cruel, and one day people will see just how right you are.”

“They won’t.” He scoffed, his eyes turning to stare at where his shoes met the ground, avoiding your gaze. “They think that this is life, that this is how things are. And no one else sees an issue with that, at least not here in the Capital.”

One of your hands turned Sejanus to face you, not allowing him to look away as you spoke, while the other fervently soothed his curls away from his face, hoping a combination of the two could begin to make him feel better.

“Thousands of people will have seen your outrage at the games tonight, and if even one of them has been affected by it, then you will have made a change.” Sejanus’s features softened as you spoke, and while you knew his boiling rage was only reducing to a simmer, and that at the end of the day it would still be inside of him, you knew that he was allowing himself to get through this moment with your help. “Rome was not built in one night. Change will come, it just takes time.”

Silence didn’t have the chance to settle. “Why are you so nice to me?” That surprised you. It didn’t seem like a question that needed answering and it didn’t seem like something Sejanus would ever ask you. It felt too obvious. “No one in the capital has ever accepted me as one of them, and yet, my own district won’t recognise me as theirs either. Most of the people at the academy don’t even acknowledge me, and sometimes I feel like Coryo only tolerates me, but you? You are nice to me, like now. You didn’t have to come out here, you chose to. Why?”

Strangely, you’d never been so scared. You couldn’t help but think that you’d said or done something to make Sejanus think that your friendship towards him was fake or conditional, but it couldn’t be further from it. How did you put into words how much you loved him for him, without saying it just like that? Plain and simple?

“You are kind, Sejanus. You don’t see a lot of that around here. From the very first day I met you you have been nothing but kind - not only to me but everyone around you, even when they didn’t deserve it.” Your hand against his hair had moved back down to his cheek, the gentle caress of your thumb against the apple of his cheek turning more and more loving with every word you spoke. “You bring your Ma’s sweets to share, even when they’re the ones you really like, you recite your favourite books to me just because you want to talk and you know I’ll listen, you stop me from going home with scrapped knees and grazed hands everyday, and-“

It was like you’d suddenly become dangerously aware of how close the two of you had got, not only physically on the steps of the academy, but in your friendship over the years. Maybe more then a friendship if either of you were brave enough to say it. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t think about anything but his lips against yours. Removing your hands from his face and placing them neatly in your lap, you tore your gaze from his face and looked to the sunsetting sky. “Sejanus plinth, it seems I have grown quite fond of you.”

Sejanus placed two fingers beneath your chin, turning your face to make you look at him, like you had done just minutes ago. “I have grown irreversibly fond of you, y/n y/l/n.”

As Sejanus leaned closer to you, and you tilted you head so your nose would slot perfectly against his, a crowd of mentors came out of the academy, causing the two of you to jump apart. Sejanus looked more disappointed than you think you’d be able to get him to admit, and he stood from the steps almost instantly. “I have to go.”

If you’d been any less dazed by the almost kiss shared between the two of you, you’d have chased after him once more, but you found yourself frozen on the steps of the academy. Sejanus was going to kiss you. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d find the two of you in such a position once again and maybe that time your lips would actually meet.

A part of you is certain you don’t even know the boy exists in any other universe. And yet, you find that you would plead before the Gods themselves to have the fortune of knowing him in every one.

An: thank you for reading!! Would anyone want a part 2 about Sejanus going in to the arena and reader and Coriolanus teaming up to get him out? I might write it anyway lol but please give me feed back and let me know what you thought!! Mwah <333

part 2: I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea out now!!

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Merlin

The Walls of Camelot by spqr

"Camelot will fall tomorrow,” Arthur says, on the first day of the eighth month of the siege.

DC

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio

Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle:

The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin-

(01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood-

(01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious.

(01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route-

(01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up.

(01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

we shall be free; we shall find peace by mediant

Clark has accepted what it means to be Lex's prisoner - the pain of the Green, the experiments, the hands on it. The long years buried in its containment cell, let out only to act as Lex's weapon, as Lex's tool. It had fought back at first, but years have ground it down and away to almost nothing.

Then Lex hands it a baby. And Clark realizes that while it may have hurt humans, and lied about what it is, and it may deserve to be locked away - Kon deserves to be free.

Untamed

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (+ podfic)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

-- In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

Clone Wars

patron saint by spqr (+ podfic)

Funerary practices? Master Ti writes back. I’m not sure what you mean, Master Kenobi. Used biomass is the property of Kamino and thus is recycled into the cloning process.

So that’s how the revolution begins—with dead brothers, but not the way you might expect.

Miraculous Ladybug

drowning (in plain sight) by buggachat

Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:

His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.

And now he's missing.

Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.

(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)

[suzukiblu]

Day thirty of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU. And yes I DID win NaNoWriMo, thank you for asking. ❤ This is the last day of NaNo, obviously, so I'm gonna take a little bit of a break from this fic due to being just sliiiiightly burned out from writing 1k+ a day in it for the past month and all, but I intend to start editing it and posting chapters of it on AO3 in the next week or two, so it'll be both easily bookmark/subscribe-able and updating on there soon!

They go through all the boxes, Tim suffers a bit for it, and Kon laughs and makes him suffer more, the bastard. It’s fun, though, even if now Tim would really prefer to never stick his hand in another box ever again in his life. 

The last box Kon directs him to is full of layers of distinctly cashmere-esque fabrics, and Kon smiles a little and ducks his head again. Tim is disgruntled, but charmed. 

They wander through the exhibits, and Tim feels pretty good about his activity-picking when he realizes Kon’s stopping to look at all of them and actually seems interested in all of them. They have to circle back a couple of times so Kon isn’t doing anything too super-powered in front of other guests, but they do hit all of them. Some of them are more interesting than others, in Tim’s opinion, but Kon still tries them all. Tim wouldn’t complain even if he were bored out of his mind, though, given how invested Kon gets in sorting and mixing the tables full of colored glass beads and making waves and whirlpools in the water fixtures and manipulating the kaleidoscopes and chimes and everything else. 

Kon spends the least amount of time with the auditory and olfactory stations, though he’s happy to try all the little hors d'oeuvres that Tim assumes are supposed to be covering “taste” for the exhibit. Visual he seems generally curious about, but definitely tactile wins. Like–far and away, does tactile win. They spend twice as much time at the tactile stations Kon is least interested in as they do any two of the others. Tim doesn’t mention it in case it’s not on purpose. He still doesn’t want to make Kon feel self-conscious or anything. 

Anyway, the tactile parts of the exhibit were the whole reason he picked this as a date activity, so what, is he going to be bothered by having made the correct deduction or assumption or whatever? Not freaking likely. Actually if anything he’s going to need to privately gloat to himself about this later. Bask in it a bit. 

Also take some notes for future dates and things to buy Kon and whatever else. 

More cashmere, to start. A lot more. 

Tim sneaks a few more pictures of Kon as they walk from station to station. Kon laughs at him every time he catches him and takes one of him too, which is incredibly flustering. Tim cons him into a few selfies in self-defense, which turns out to be a terrible idea because it still involves him ending up in pictures and, worse, involves him ending up in pictures with Kon, who takes the excuse to press in close and kiss his cheek and just be all kinds of appallingly adorable, the asshole. 

Kon uses the first picture he took as Tim’s contact picture and makes one of their shared selfies his phone background. Tim is mildly mortified but also desperately wants to earn lockscreen status, which is a terrible idea because what if Kon ever takes his phone out around the team or Red Tornado or, god forbid, Bruce? 

Tim should definitely make sure Kon doesn’t put him on his lockscreen. 

. . . but like, if he did . . . 

There’s a clay station. Kon stays at that one the longest, making weird little abstract shapes and surprisingly accurate miniature versions of the sculptures tucked away in the corners of the gallery with TTK. Tim hadn’t even noticed him looking at any of the sculptures, but in retrospect he never actually needed to “look” at them, did he? And on that note, Tim guesses the accuracy shouldn��t be any kind of surprising either–Kon must have a really good sense of spatial awareness, if nothing else, and of how things “should” be shaped. 

By the time they get through the last station of the exhibit, they’ve been at the museum almost twice as long as Tim’s most optimistic estimates had allowed for and he’s had to sneak off to the “bathroom” for five minutes to push their reservation back an hour. Tim has absolutely zero intention of rushing Kon, especially if he’s having a good time, so it just makes more sense to reschedule than to put him on a schedule. 

Though he did have to actually make sure to go into the bathroom to do it, since Kon might’ve noticed him not heading that direction. Tim doubts Kon’s paying attention to what anyone’s doing in the bathroom, for obvious reasons, but he still probably would’ve noticed the date he was briefly concerned might be a supervillain just ducking around a corner to make a phone call ten yards away, no matter how Bat-stealthy said date was about it. Like, that seems like a stupid thing to expect him not to notice. 

They stop by the gift shop on their way out–well, Tim detours Kon to it with subtle herding, anyway–and Tim manages to convince Kon to pick out a couple of things. He ends up with a couple of sort of fidget toy-type puzzles and a little three-pack of little tubs of a clay-like play sand in bright colors, which Tim thinks is probably meant to function as some kind of stim toy and was probably something specifically sourced to go with the event, and Tim “accidentally” throws in a couple of fancy candy bars from the front register. Again: Kon needs calories that weren’t directly sourced from cafeteria food from a definitely-not-OSHA-compliant cloning lab. 

Maybe Tim can send Kon a fruit basket or ten while he’s still stuck at Cadmus. Those probably come in tropical themes. 

Alternately, maybe he can just kidnap Kon outright and trap him in a nice new cul-de-sac until he gets used to it. He could get him actual groceries, then. Lots of them. Fruit and vegetables and entire spreads of “things that weren’t made in an OSHA-noncompliant cafeteria”. That’d be nice. 

Also he could send that Hawaiian food truck by on the daily, if they were up for it. 

They share the candy bars on the walk to the restaurant–meaning, Tim takes two perfunctory bites of each and tricks Kon into eating the rest with basically zero effort–and it’s . . . nice, honestly, just walking around together. Just being together. Not that this is new knowledge, after the mall, but it’s still novel enough that Tim can’t help indulging in and enjoying the experience. They don’t usually get much time alone together, much less time that isn’t spent either fighting supervillains or dealing with emergencies. So–it’s nice, yeah. 

Tim likes it, he means. 

They make their adjusted reservation, and Kon peers around the restaurant awkwardly as they’re led to their table. Tim resolves to do whatever it takes to get him to relax, up to and including embarrassing himself in some way or another. He’s probably going to do that anyway, given how most of these meet-ups have been going. 

“Does it qualify for ‘nice’ enough so far?” he asks once they’re seated, and Kon blushes, then flashes him a grin. 

“It’s okay, I guess,” he says, then bites his lip with a brief flicker of insecurity as he glances down at the menu–specifically the prices on the menu. “Um . . . are you sure you wanna spend this much on me, though . . . ?”

“I want to spend my entire trust fund on you,” Tim says matter-of-factly, and Kon lets out a weird little laugh and ducks his head again. It works a little better this time, since he has the menu to hide behind right now. 

“I already like you, man,” he says, which is still inexplicable but not something Tim is actually gonna argue with. “You don’t have to keep buying me stuff.” 

“I like buying you stuff,” Tim says. “I’m gonna keep doing it as long as you’ll let me.” And after that, he’ll figure out a way to sneak doing it. 

“Just because you like it?” Kon says, glancing at him over the top of the menu. 

“Because I like you,” Tim says. “I mean, no offense to the hostess, but I wouldn’t enjoy buying her dinner this much.” 

Kon bites his lip, then ducks his head again. His face is red. Tim feels the urge to kiss him again. He probably should’ve found time to do that on the walk over or something. Or as soon as he first saw him. Or just at any point so far tonight, because the urge is getting seriously distracting now. 

“So when you said you wanted to go somewhere after this too . . .” Kon trails off, flushing darker. 

“There’s a late show at the planetarium about the sun’s role in our solar system and the life cycle of stars,” Tim says. It might be too loose an association, but . . . “I thought you might be interested in checking it out.” 

Kon stares at him for a moment, then turns absolutely crimson and hides behind his menu entirely. 

“Okay,” he manages, his voice a little cracked. Tim’s pretty sure he could’ve said he’d rented them a hotel room and gotten a less embarrassed reaction. So . . . that’s a thing. 

Okay. 

“I really do want to spend the money on you,” he says. “Apartment and all.” 

“An apartment,” Kon says, glancing over the top of his menu at him again. “And bills and groceries and an . . . allowance.” 

“Yes,” Tim says. No point in beating around the bush, he figures. It’s all things he’s already told Kon anyway. 

“And not just because I saved your life,” Kon says. 

“Not just because you saved my life,” Tim agrees. “I just want to give you those things. Or anything you want, really. Which–well, what would you want?” 

“Um,” Kon says, just barely lowering his menu as his eyes skate away. “Well . . . could we like . . . keep hanging out outside the theoretical apartment and stuff? If we did . . . that?" 

Tim feels something absolutely giddy and absolutely painful in his chest, hearing that question. Just–what does Kon think, that he just wants to toss a lease at him and never see him again? Or just only come over to . . . actually, wait, maybe Kon does think–ugh. Ugh. Fuck, that is not what he’s trying to make Kon worry about here. 

“Yes,” Tim says firmly. “As much as you want.” 

“Mm,” Kon says, biting his lip again. His face is still red. Tim wants to give him every single thing the world hasn’t given him, which he knows for a fact is a truly fucked-up and probably borderline-insurmountable amount of things. 

But he still wants to give it all to him anyway, and then think up a few more things besides.

[a-memory-a-distant-echo]

ok, you know what, fuck it, fic recs post. historically i try not to rec works in progress or things i haven't commented on and i'm throwing that fully out the window for this because honestly, fucking whatever.

if you're on this list and i haven't been fully unhinged at you in the comments, please know that it's because (1) i'm the worst and (2) i'm trying desperately to calibrate so i hit 'enthusiastic' and not 'kind of frightening, actually'. i swear that i have written at least several sentences of a comment for every fic on this list, it's just that i'm genuinely impossibly slow, sometimes. it's me, not you.

my previous rec post is here, in case you missed that. as a bonus, special for this rec list and as a concession to the horrors, i am attempting to guess how much any given fic will fuck up the average person. obviously this is a ymmv kind of situation, but i'm trying, at least?

everything else under a cut because i am longwinded.

and found by @dangerouscommiesubversive, explicit, every possible combination of di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua | li xiangyi; bless, but i am not typing all that out. starting off with a wip where i haven't left a comment in like four fuckin' chapters, breaking those rules real good. this fic is a fucking ride. i will admit that i wasn't entirely convinced by the premise when i saw the blurb, but i am nothing if not willing to admit when i was wrong, and i was—once again—totally wrong. this is the fic where i was like 'ok but…is anyone really, like, desperate for gen z li xiangyi?' and then i read it and i was like 'ohhhhhh fuck yeah, ok, i get it, i was actually fully desperate for gen z li xiangyi.' he is. such a little prick. i love him. there has been something unexpected and delightful in every single chapter of this so far, plus a number of impressively memorable one-liners. this fic is fun and distracting and at least as of chapter seven, i'm gonna say it's not even gonna fuck you up. (please note that this is only through chapter seven!)

and the days are bright red by @junemermaid, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. rip to my beloved tumblr mutual @junemermaid, because they're getting called out twice in this list, but: tough. this fic is so delightful. featuring: memories of slut era li lianhua, the mortifying ordeal of being known, an entire box of historically accurate sex toys, fang duobing and di feisheng communicating (sometimes silently) in a way that unsettles li lianhua (back from his months-long sojourn), some very hot sex that is both very much about sex and also about trust and being perceived, casual intimacy, and fledgling tenderness. there are Emotions in this, and they get moderately intense, but it's a very kind and surprisingly gentle feel-good fic.

a drink under a clear window by @momosandlemonsoda, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing and fang duobing/qiao wanmian. a fic that tackles the dreaded v-shaped polycule and makes it work. it seems like perhaps it shouldn't: fang duobing as the hinge, with di feisheng and qiao wanmian on either side, but actually it works perfectly, and is a lovely little glimpse at who they could become and the relationships they could have. i love the thought of qiao wanmian having come into her own as a leader in her own right, as more than just the representative of the ghost of li xiangyi, and this does a wonderful job of letting her be her own person. also, yes, ok, passing fang duobing back and forth like a party favour. this is a post-canon fic in which li lianhua is dead, but the fic itself a straightforward delight that is not at all fucky uppy.

the floating clouds, no resting place, again by @junemermaid (not sorry), technically gen and no ship, but functionally pre-di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. the hair-washing fic. ohhhhhh. i started jotting notes for this post the day that i finished this fic, and i really thought that they were in any way comprehensive, but instead, what i typed and left as a note to myself was this:

and honestly. you're right, hypothetical reader, that doesn't totally make sense, but i stand by it regardless, because i apparently had that thought in [checks date i last saved the file] fucking august, and i'm still nodding along with myself. that is that this is like. this fic is very beautiful and will make you ache and will leave you slightly better at the end of it than you were at the beginning. it may also make you cry; this seems to me a fair enough trade.

the floating lotus by @anndramarama, not rated, di feisheng/li xiangyi. pre-canon stuff doesn't always work super well for me, but i really enjoyed this one, featuring di feisheng and li xiangyi when they're both so young and arrogant and full of themselves—and stupid and naïve and young and almost hopeful in a way that they're often not, in fic, for all that they were barely but children at the point of the donghai fight. they just seem…vulnerable, i guess, in this, in a way that i find touching. seasonal bonus: a ghost story, of a sort. given that this is set pre-canon, i think it's hard to come in any softer than bittersweet, which this very much is.

from here one's hand could pluck the stars by @howlingmoonrise, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing. sex pollen fic! also featuring, a little surprisingly, given the premise, incredibly explicit and enthusiastic consent. look, this does what it says on the tin. di feisheng gets sex pollened. fang duobing is left to stay with him. the obvious ensues. unfortunately, it is also devastatingly charming? fang duobing is earnest and sweet; di feisheng is suffering beautifully terribly and trying so hard not to impose on fang duobing. they're both trying so hard to be respectful of what the other person needs, but they're also still bratty and argumentative and exasperated/exasperating, and it's very entertaining. this will fuck you up none percent, and may even make you laugh.

my war is done by @orchisailsa, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. another wip, with the first of three chapters posted, but please understand that this chapter is nearly 15k and so fucking good and compelling. li lianhua lives! and returns to find that things have changed in his absence, and perhaps that he has also changed in his absence, and now wants things that he had told himself he didn't mind not even having to lose. bonus: road trip and—delight!—only one room at the inn. also some other stuff that i'm not spoiling, but that made me absolutely gleeful. this is definitely a work in progress, and while i don't think there's anything particularly upsetting in the chapter, it does end on something of a cliffhanger. i personally do not feel that this is an upsetting cliffhanger, given the information about the fic that's presented in the tags, but it is technically a cliffhanger.

awkward paragraph break, but it's also important, i think, to mention the absolutely stunning (and not at all safe for work) companion piece to my war is done, you'd be there calling my name, by saki the cup bearer, who i don't think is on tumblr. it's fucking incredible; i am very decidedly not an artist but i cannot begin to imagine how much effort went into this. just. holy shit.

not unlike him in shape and form by @philologicalbat, explicit, fang duobing/li lianhua. ok look. i fucking love when things are deeply emotionally messy, and this is so emotionally messy. li lianhua who's been attracted to fang duobing and not doing anything about it, then discovering that fang duobing is shan gudao's son and is very much going to do something about it. he wants in this, and he's cunty and manipulative and mean about it, and sometimes also almost sweet, almost tender, and i love that, because i feel like li lianhua is very often an object of desire and very rarely gets to desire. i love how human he gets to be in this fic. this is not a sweet or gentle fic, but it does end in a moderately tender place that is tentatively hopeful, i think.

unbecoming heir by @bettercostume, explicit, di feisheng/princess zhaoling. i am taking your hand in mine and begging you to trust me. i know what this fic looks like. it's noncon and a weird pairing and you might look at it and expect it to go in the obvious direction and: it does not. this fic is so good that it makes me angry. it makes me miserable and everyone in this fic is trying so miserably, miserably hard, and it's fucking devastating. i spent literally thirty minutes earlier today yelling at my wife about it. i cannot rec this fic strongly enough. this is not a happy fic, but it is a good fic. it will absolutely fuck you up. this is very complimentary but also you will be fucked up.

until you are its primary evidence by @ilgaksu, mature, di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. the single most effective use of what is effectively a prologue that i've ever seen in fic, are you kidding me. this fic is nothing at all like what i expected it to be, and is something far better than what i could have imagined. it's fang duobing's point of view, which is a rarity already, and it's so well done, and it allows him so much humanity and so much anger and grace alike. there are so many tricky things about this fic—the prologue, the fact that it's set in the amnesia arc, fang duobing's pov, the fact that it actually addresses canonical disabilities and illnesses without being fucking weird about it, the tension between the three of them—and it's all balanced so well. this has some emotionally heavier moments but ends tentatively happily; tentative only because it's set during the amnesia arc, and, well. we know what comes next.

as a final note: if you wrote one of these fics and feel that i've wildly misinterpreted the emotional tenor of the ending, please message me in whatever way you prefer and i will correct it. i would not normally presume to guess how things are likely hit people, as i am in many ways not anyone's ideal reader, but today it seemed like it was kinder to at least try.

[the-traveling-poet]

OH MY GOSH! That modern!au was so beautiful???😭😭 I’m not a sucker for moderns au cause I like to keep things as canon as possible but saying that I loved this would be an understatement. 🤩 Please write a pt 2?? 💕

Phone Call

After successfully arriving at the Cast Meet and Greet event a couple hours away from your quaint apartment, you were able to meet your idol at long last. Though you had been awkward in greeting the man of your dreams, you planned to make up for ‘lost time’. With his phone number tucked securely in your phone’s contact list, you anxiously awaited the right moment to send that first text.

Pairings: Actor!Levi x Fan!Reader

Warnings: modern!AU, language, fluff

Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

A/N: thanknyou so much Anon, and also AGREED. I’m not one for modern!AU aot fics, but the request kinda struck me and I thought ‘why not?’ And I’m content with how it turned out?? So I’m happy to do a follow up :3 I’m so sorry it took me forever! Hope you enjoy pt. 2!

Part 1 | Part 3

That hour had passed you by surprisingly quickly, with how often you’d space out staring over the crowd of fans to fantasize your interaction with Levi Ackerman all over once more in your hazy mind.

Just what had happened? Your babbling and jumbled words, earning you a receipt of his own personal number??

The more you thought about it, you figured this had to be some grueling joke. It had to, right? This never happened outside of fiction. Perhaps he had given you a public number of his, and if you texted it you might just end up embarrassing yourself.

But the look he’d had in his eyes when he glanced up at you before signing those ten numbers under his signature onto the very paper he held…surely he wasn’t one for cruel practical jokes, right?

Tucking the paper away for now, you brought yourself back to the present as the interview began.

For the entirety of the event, you couldn’t keep the giddy grin from your face as your favorite actors and actresses posed as their beloved characters to answer popular questions across many social media platforms. They would quote the author’s original scrip for accurate answers, as well as adding their own personal takes on the topics as the character’s roles.

How could this event have been any more enthralling; you had thought, just before managing to meet the gaze of Levi from the back of the room. Your breath stuck in your throat once more as you quickly diverted your stare.

But upon hearing the man start to speak into his small microphone to answer some questions on a cue card he held, your gaze snapped back up in an instant to find him. You could listen to his voice all day and never tire of how husky and yet smooth he sounded. While the questions were indeed interesting, and provoked curiosity within every fan present, you found it hard to focus on the words.

You pinched your thigh to make yourself concentrate less on the paper held securely in your hand, and more on the event you’d paid a good amount to come see.

The hours ticked by all too quickly, as much as you were anxious to get a chance to text Levi’s number. But finally the moment arrived when the cast all took a stand and thanked the audience for showing up.

Shaking hands grabbed at your belongings as you stood to clap alongside the hundred or so fans. The room was slow to clear, prohibiting you from leaving through the double doors just yet.

Realizing you’d be stuck in the exit line for some time, you let your anticipation get the better of you and pulled out your phone. You hesitated when the contact screen popped up, wondering just what you would say, should this in fact not have been a joke.

“Fuck it,” You whispered, hitting send.

Hey, Mr. Ackerman, this is Y/N from earlier. Loved getting to meet you today!

With a shaky sigh you pocketed your phone, fighting with your bag as you scanned the dispersing crowd. Your eyes naturally drifted back towards the interview table, watching the cast clear their things and be led back through a single door liking the back wall.

Surprisingly, Levi hadn’t departed yet. He stood beside two guards, arms folded and leaning casually against the table as they chatted.

You’d nearly looked away when his posture straightened. He pulled a thin black phone from his back pocket and unlocked it. You nearly lost your breath when he seemed to be reading the screen closely as his nimble thumbs ran across the lower half of the screen.

Daring to hope, you ducked down in the crowd slightly and checked the message you’d sent. And there at the bottom of the screen appeared a bubble icon.

Biting your lip, you were slightly saddened to see the line moving along. But now, you had a bit of a bounce to your step as you left the building and re-emerged back in the extensive parking lot.

You had to remind yourself to look away from your phone screen and watch for passing cars as you passed the walkway. Hastily unlocking your car, you slid inside and locked the door after you and picked up your phone.

I’m glad you enjoyed the event. But please, just Levi is fine. Seems you were anxious to test the validity of this number?

Who knows how long you sat there, shaking in your seat as your thumbs flew across the screen to form a response. But after some time discussing the event, Levi brought up the situation in which you hadn’t been able to say all you had wanted; what with the time limit per fan and your awkward stumbling.

With a burning face and shaking fingers you replied ‘yes’ to his suggestion for a quick call, as he had nothing left on his schedule after the interview, at least for a few hours.

You drove off with a tight grin, awkwardly taking the call once it rang. It was slow to begin with, you trying to be formal and Levi trying to convince you to just be yourself.

An hour into the drive home, you’d hardly recognized just how easy it had been to open up and ask the things you really wanted to know. He answered every question you had, to the best of your ability.

He never once sounded annoyed, nor distracted as the call progressed. In fact, he started asking you simple questions of his own.

Are you from around here?

No? Where at, then?

How damn long did you drive to get here?

When did you get into the show?

Why was my character your favorite? He’s kinda a dick.

All too soon you’d pulled into the lot outside your apartment, and bade him a hesitant goodbye. You’d have continued the call, if it hadn’t already been two hours of conversation and he had a shoot he had to attend for the company.

Offhandedly, he mentioned thinking on letting you have the first look how the photos would come out before he hung up, leaving you with an explosive feeling of butterflies in your gut.

Climbing the straits towards your room, you unlocked the door and flipped onto the couch with a barely contained scream.

You were living a reality you hardly thought feasible, how could you not be over the moon?

Just when you’d thrown your phone to the side some time later to grave dinner, your phone buzzed one last time.

*Attachment : 4 images.*

Never thought I’d give my number to a fan. Coffee at Highland Cafè around 2 o’clock next week? That’s closer to you.

[nburkhardt]

This is something that hasn’t left me since I read a fic from fucking glee years ago. It’s haunting me and goes away only to come back and swirl in my head so I’m just gonna write it out.

Saying this now, i remember a lot of season 4 but I’ve blocked out the Stancy parts hahaha so it’s not completely accurate to the show I don’t think. Also a quick heads up, I skip a lot of what happens in the show because it’s taking up too much brain power remembering those things lol (ps: if you see typos, no you don’t)

~

“I always pictured you, just, wanted to let you know before we head straight into danger”

Something inside of her wants to break and yet all she can do is nod at him and immediately head into that danger. Not wanting to look to closely at it right now, there’s more important things going on right now.

Takes her shotgun and decides she’s ending this once and for all.

It feels like an eternity passes before she finds herself in the hospital. One second she’s ruining her eardrums using the shotgun right next to her face, the next she’s following the emt’s light.

Surprisingly all of them has made it, she doesn’t know how but they have. It’s all she knows, couldn’t hear properly and too out of it to really follow anyone anyway.

“-eler, ms? Hello, Ms. Wheeler? Can you hear me?”

Nancy blinks hard and looks around to find a nurse standing next to her, “oh, sorry. What did you say?”

The nurse smiles softly at her before shaking her head, “I was asking if you wanted to call your parents now? Our generator finally kicked in and we’ve already asked your friends”

That makes her blink again, her ears still somewhat ringing, “yeah- yeah! I’ll, um, do that”

The call with her mom she barely hears, but she knows that they’re on their way. As she hangs up the phone she looks around and doesn’t see any of her friends, it makes her nervous.

“Hey, where are my friends?” She asks the same nurse and catches her surprised look, “did- you already told me didn’t you?”

The nod is enough but the nurse still says, “Yes, two of them got admitted, the other two are in there with them. They didn’t want to be separated so they’re in room 130, just over there”

She knocks once before opening it to find what she expected, Steve in one bed with Robin clinging to him and Eddie on the other with Dustin sitting next to him.

It shouldn’t be surprising but it is.

“Nance! Heyyyyyy, welcome to the party!”

Robin snorts, “don’t mind the Dingus Duo, the doctors gave them some strong medicine for the bites”

She shakes her head, smiling just a little at them. Steve’s mumbling about Robin ruining the party, Dustin’s laughing and Eddie has his eyes closed either falling asleep or already there. She takes a seat on the extra chair, opens her mouth but lost her words. The room is filled with beeping, Steve and Robin whispering and Eddie snoring.

It’s nice, this is nice.

A pleasant change from the chaos they went through just hours ago.

Seeing Jonathan is amazing, he pulls her close and presses a kiss to her forehead. Her arms are wrapped around him and she can’t stop the tears from falling even if it’s a happy moment.

Because it is, actually seeing him in person and not just hearing his voice.

He holds her close and it feels great, it does. But there’s Steve’s words echoing in her head. It makes her hide her face in hopes to cancel them out, she’s with her boyfriend. The boy she loves with all her heart, and yet, yet she’s thinking of the one she broke at sixteen.

Those words swirl, rattle and settles in her head as she helps fix the cabin up. They burn when Jonathan jokes about Steve being in charge, she huffs a laugh but disagrees.

She sees the confusion on Jonathan’s face. That doesn’t surprise her. Instead of continuing, they’re interrupted.

Seeing Joyce and all of the Byers reunite brightens the moment of confusion, seeing Hopper is a massive shock but a welcomed one.

Fixing the cabin is a process, but with the actual adults back, they decide to stop for the day and make their way home.

She watches as Mike clings to El and Will, watches as Joyce holds Hopper’s hand in a death grips. Sees Jonathan hovering and she’s on the outside.

There’s those words making her stay on the outside.

There’s static in her ears, her vision blurry, heart beating fast and she can’t figure out what happened. How did this happen? They were fine, Jonathan promised. She promised.

“I’m really sorry, Nance. I just can’t be in a relationship anymore, I love you. I do, but my family needs me and I, I need them more. You have to understand” he’s holding her close and she can feel his tears fall onto her, “I won’t ask you to wait, you deserve someone who’ll love and focus on you.”

All she can do is nod as tears go down her face.

They share one last kiss before separating for good. He hugs her close and she squeezes her eyes shut.

It’s several hours later, having spent most of the day in a haze. She’s sitting at her desk, trying to get her focus back, when those words from months ago start to swirl back in.

“I always pictured you, just, wanted to let you know before we head straight into danger”

“-just travel across the country, with my family”and “always dreamt this” filters in with it, she doesn’t know what she’s feeling, she shouldn’t be thinking about her first boyfriend like this.

Jonathan just broke up with her, not even a full twenty four hours yet.

But the words are swirling fast and she can feel her stomach flutter suddenly remembering that feeling those emotions Steve used to give her.

It was nice, even if sometimes she had to be away from him. He did treat her like she was his world and it felt like it. Nancy goes to sleep with a plan set in mind.

Tomorrow, she’ll go to Steve’s and hope he still wants that second chance.

Dressed in her best clothes, wearing pretty make-up, she makes her way to the Harrington house.

Seeing Eddie’s van parked outside doesn’t surprise her, not really, what does make her pause is when she walks by a bike and skateboard on the porch.

Seeing that makes her doubt the timing, Eddie there is alright he shouldn’t know the history between her and Steve. She also swears she heard him talking Steve about lost loves and second chances.

The bike can only be owned by Dustin and he definitely knows the history and Max well, since Spring Break, has been particularly living with Steve at this point. Stating a number of times that Steve is her brother, she might not know the story but she’ll be questioning.

But she’s here now and Steve’s words are on fire in her head.

So, she moves ahead determined. She knocks on the door and takes a few deep breaths to get her composure.

The door opens and it’s not Steve answering, it’s Dustin and she blinks. Losing that composure she just gained, it’s quick and she’s quick to get it back with an easy smile. “Hi Dustin, can I come in?”

He’s been hanging out with Eddie too much lately, since he is loose with his posture now and opens the door with an exaggerated smile and waving his arm as he opens the door more.

“Nancy?”

She looks around, sitting on the couch is Max who’s got an eyebrow raise and frown.

“Hi Max, I wanted to speak with Steve. What’re you doing here?”

Both of them shrug and Dustin moves to sit next to Max, “We have plans with Steve and Eddie, we got tired of waiting outside”

“So we broke in”

She rolls her eyes, moves to stand closer to the stairs, “Are they awake? Where is Eddie?”

The two share a look and she can’t figure out what it means, Dustin has a mischievous smile once he’s looking back towards her, “Upstairs”

A little suspicious at the look, but the words in her head has her pushing forward despite the alarm bells ringing that something is up.

Steve’s house has changed since the last time she was here, there’s more life within it and old family portraits are gone, photos of friends in their places instead. There’s a door with a sign saying ‘Dustin’s room’ on it, and she passes an open door that was originally Steve’s. It’s cleared out except for the desk and the plaid wallpaper.

The next room is opened just a bit, she itches closer and pushes the door to see more and her whole body freezes.

There on the bed is not only Steve but Eddie too. From where she’s standing, Eddie’s pressed up against Steve’s back and has an arm around him; keeping him close.

She tears her eyes away from them and immediately regrets it.

On the floor is a mix of Steve’s clothes and Eddie’s, that’s not it though. Sitting directly next to bed is ripped condom packaging and by the trash bin is a poor attempt at throwing away a used condom.

It brings her attention back to the bed, in the short glance away, Steve has moved in his sleep. Instead of facing away; he’s now facing Eddie and nearly on top of the other. She tenses up as Eddie tightens his arms around Steve, then she pulls the door shut before moving quickly down the stairs.

Without acknowledging the two on the couch she makes it to the door, just as she pulls it open the door she’s stopped.

“They’re asleep still? We could tell Steve you stopped by” she can just hear smugness coming from Dustin and Max sniggering.

Shaking her head, she refuses to look back at them, “no, no, it’s fine. Have uh, have a good day!”

“It doesn’t make sense! I, I thought- he” Nancy mumbles to herself, trying to collect her thoughts. She didn’t even bother moving yet, still sitting inside her car mumbling and trying to figure this out.

She could’ve sworn Steve was flirting with her, she knows she was a little during the fight. It felt natural and right. Even though it was wrong, very wrong. But- it was potentially the end of the world, they could’ve died! Everyone involved would understand her lapse of judgment.

Steve had told her, admitted his dream with her in it.

Him and Eddie? Steve likes boys? Since when? Was- was it a lie then? Was she being led on? Maybe even being used?

She’s so in her head, she doesn’t notice anyone walk up and only realizes when her whole body jolts at the knocking on her window. Shaking her head and reaching for her glove box, looking over her eyes widen at Steve standing there.

He’s wearing sweatpants with only a jacket over his bare chest, he looks worried, confused and most importantly; scared.

Taking a breath, she rolls her window down before looking at him, “Steve, hi.”

“Nancy, what are you doing here?”

Frowning, she looks away from him and startles at seeing Eddie standing there by the door also looking scared. Her eyes must be wide, because Steve clears his throat and she immediately looks back at him. “I- I”

Steve sighs, dropping his arms to run a hand over his face and hair, looking away from her, “Nancy, what you saw- you can’t tell anyone. Okay? Please. I don’t understand why you’re here right now and I really don’t want to know rig-” he shakes his head, “just, please don’t tell anyone”

She opens her mouth, but the words get caught. Steve’s look is haunted, even more afraid then a few months ago. Closing her mouth, taking another look at Eddie by the door before focusing her attention back on Steve.

“I won’t. I promise, Steve. I won’t tell anyone, just- maybe we can talk sometime? All of us?”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, she can tell by his eyes and how he glances behind him, before looking at her again. “I’ll have to talk with Eddie first, but, uh yeah sure.”

Steve gives a weak smile at her that she tries to match, despite her racing thoughts. He steps away from the car and she starts it, nodding her head before driving away. She watches in her rear view mirror as Steve walks over to Eddie and only squeezes his arm before leading him inside.

Imagines that once inside, Steve pulls Eddie close and holds him tight.

Three Days Later

It wasn’t avoiding them, she really wasn’t. She had to collect her thoughts, really figure out what she absolutely wanted in life now.

Which, she still doesn’t know, at least relationship wise.

Thinking back on the last few years and how they’re finally no longer fighting for their lives and the world, she can go for her dream of becoming a journalist. Which is exactly what she realizes, two days into her thinking, that’s what she actually wants in life. Not a relationship with Steve. Not even a relationship with Jonathan at this point, she doesn’t need that right now.

By the third day, she realizes how selfish she was acting and how much she actually scared, maybe even hurt Steve and Eddie.

That’s what brings her back to Steve’s front door with an apology and some cookies. There’s no bikes or skateboards this time around, just Eddie’s van and it’s not first thing in the morning.

Knocking on the door is quick and as she wants gets her composure and tries to relax. It’s not long before the door opens, Steve standing on the other side and her mind flashes back to the night in 83. Shaking her head to get rid of it, smiling she raises her hands up with the plate.

“I bought cookies”

Steve smiles a little and let’s her in, “you didn’t have to, Robs and I had a baking spree last night”

“Yeah and it’s all delicious!” Eddie shouts out, from somewhere.

It does some a little like a bakery in here, she notices. Placing the plate on the table before looking at Steve, “no, my mom insisted I bring them.”

Steve just nods as he closes the door, “It’s fine, we love cookies and if we don’t finish them, Eddie’s friends and Robs is coming over later anyway”

He leads her towards the kitchen and she’s not surprised to find Eddie at the table with paints and figurines, “Elder Wheeler, good afternoon on this fine day”

A laugh bubbles out of her, as she takes a seat across from him and she watches Steve take the seat right next to Eddie. Eddie looks towards him and she gets to see a silent conversation pass between the two, it’s not like the ones she’d see between Steve and Robin or even the ones she’d have with Jonathan.

It ends a second later when Steve looks towards her with a tight smile, “Nancy, I’m sor-”

“No!” She’s a little loud but it makes his mouth snap shut and Eddie to widen his eyes, “sorry, but you don’t have to apologize to me. If anyone should, it’s me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you guys or to make you uncomfortable. I, I wasn’t thinking straight”

Eddie snorts, “couldn’t imagine how to do that”

It makes both her and Steve break into a smile, she’s quicker at sobering up though, sits straighter and clears her throat before settling her eyes on Steve, “I was being selfish, that’s why I came over the other day. Your words were in my head and I thought, maybe they were telling me that we could have a second chance. But I realized, I don’t want it anymore.”

Steve looks confused, “my words? Wha- my old dream? That thing?”

She nods, “yeah and I didn’t think things through, came here and found you both in bed and, scared you”

“You did” Eddie nods, dropping a hand to Steve’s, “When Dustin and Max mentioned you were in the house and looking for Steve, it really did scare us”

“I know, and I’m truly sorry for doing that to you both.” She looks away from them and sees how tightly Eddie has Steve’s hand in his, “You’re-”

“Relationship,” Steve interrupts her, “our relationship”

She nods, “it’s yours and I shouldn’t have even thought of you the way I was.”

They both nod and it’s quiet for a moment.

“Can, can I ask you?” She doesn’t know how to approach this, this isn’t something she does a lot. This is completely different from anything she’s done before, “You don’t have to tell me anything”

The couple share another long look before looking back at her, “I’m gay, I only like boys.”

“I like both. I especially like Eddie” Steve’s smile is bright and aimed completely at Eddie, “before you ask, we’ve been dating since we got out of the hospital.”

It surprises her, it’s been months.

“Yeah, I was surprised too. Thought Stevie boy was still high off the pain meds, turns out he was completely serious” Eddie laughs, “We haven’t told many people, gotta be careful with this”

She’s not surprised by that and nods, “I understand, I’m just a little confused- if you liked him and why give me hope? Why tell me that dream of yours”

“Nance, we were in the middle of a war,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand before letting go and reaching over to take her hand, “I wasn’t lying, I did dream of having a future with you. I thought we weren’t going to come out of it, didn’t think I’d have even a chance of growing up. That dream was from a little lonely boy who loved you with everything, I thought you should know that before something happened to us. But that wasn’t my only dream, and I know that’s not the kind of life you’d want, right?”

Her eyes are watering and nods, “You’re right, it was nice though”

It makes all of them laugh and Nancy feels like she knows him better, “I really am sorry, not just for scaring you. But for what I did back then”

“I’m sorry too”

There’s tears falling from both of them and she can see Eddie wiping away his own eyes.

A laugh bubbles up out of her, then Steve and lastly Eddie. It’s tears and laughter between them now.

~

Okay, look I’ll be completely serious right now. This wasn’t supposed to be this long, honestly. That’s why it ends the way it does, because it could go on even more. But I’d be repeating myself I think. Also, all of this just for the image of Nancy finding out about Steddie in like the most awkward way possible. (Without it being completely explicit 🤣)

Hope it reads okay, I had some help from the discord babes, @i-less-than-three-you & @strangersteddierthings! Love you both lovelies 💜

Information that isn’t in the fic: Robin and Wayne are the first ones to know about Steddie. Dustin, Max & the CC boys are the only other ones that know (besides Nancy) everyone else doesn’t. Also this takes place over a span of a few months. The very first part is directly after vecna (max isn’t hurt) and jumps to the “two days later” after that. But Jonathan and Nancy break up is about two months later.

TAGLIST! (If you want to be added, let me know!)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @grimmfitzz

[orpheusluvr]

Experiment (Orpheus x female reader)

NSFW WARNING

Orpheus requires someone for a new test that he’d like to conduct, and the person he has chosen is you. You have no idea what kind of test it is…

Hey!!! It’s been a while since I last posted something on here (I have 4 fics in my draft atm), so apologies for that :’( but lately I’ve been getting into Identity V and I’m OBSESSED like CRAZILY OBSESSED with that game and its lore n characters n everything, and I love Orpheus sm like he’s so HOTTT but I’ve barely seen any fics of him on here so I decided to write my own so enjoy!! (Idk how many ppl will read this tho)

Also a quick note: I don’t know every detail about the lore for idv so some things may not be accurate!!

You held your breath as you clutched tightly to the envelope in your hands.

“This is it…Oletus Manor…” you said to yourself, looking up at the large manor in front of you.

You slowly approached the door and knocked.

No response.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” You called out while knocking again.

No response again. How strange. You were invited here but there’s no one here that’s waiting for your arrival?

You placed your hand against the door and pushed it. Surprisingly, it opened.

You slowly walked inside, your heartbeat slightly increasing in speed as you could feel your adrenaline rise. There was no one in sight and the door was left unlocked. Something unusual was going on and it made you feel uneasy.

“Is anyone there?” You called out, looking around the manor.

“You finally arrived. How splendid.”

Just as you were about to call out again, you heard an unfamiliar voice behind you. You immediately turned around.

It was a man, presumably in his 20s. He had light brown hair that was neatly combed back and a monocle on his right eye, attached to a silver chain. His clothing and style clearly showed that he was a man of high class, most likely the owner of this manor from what you could assume.

Could he also be the one that sent you the invitation?

His eyes met yours, and you could feel tension between you both. He immediately broke the eye contact, by taking a quick glance at your figure, then immediately met your eyes again. Though, his expression had slightly changed.

“You look even more stunning than I would’ve expected.” He smiled.

Your cheeks slightly flushed at his compliment.

“Are you…Mr Orpheus by any chance? The one that invited me here?” You asked, trying your best not to break the eye contact with this man.

He nodded.

“Yes, indeed it is me.”

He gently took your hand.

“And as you know, by arriving here you have agreed to allow me to conduct a few experiments on you.”

“What kind of experiments?” You asked.

Orpheus came closer to you, your faces only a few inches away from each other.

“I’m going to ask for your consent again, just to make sure that you’re fully okay with this.” He said.

From his tone, you had a slight idea of what he meant. But you weren’t sure if it was exactly what you were thinking of. You could be wrong, considering that he seemed like the type of man that wouldn’t pay attention to things like these.

“I consent.” You said.

Orpheus smiled.

“Perfect. Follow me.” He said, still holding your hand.

-

Orpheus sat on his bed and motioned towards you to sit beside him.

“Come on. I don’t bite.” He said, with a slight laugh.

You nervously sat next to him, your heart pounding and your cheeks turning redder and redder each second.

“Now then. Have you ever been…intimate with anyone before?” He asked, turning towards you.

You shook your head.

A grin appeared on Orpheus’ face.

“Me neither.” He said.

He immediately moved his head closer to you, your lips finally meeting.

You were startled at first, and suddenly moved back from embarrassment.

Orpheus looked at you in worry.

“Oh, my deepest apologies. I think I must’ve-”

You interrupted him by kissing him back, both of you closing your eyes. You felt Orpheus’ hands slide around your waist while you wrapped your arms around his chest. You were both breathless and needy, a complete heated mess. Quiet moans were heard between each kiss.

Orpheus slowly parted away and you both opened your eyes again.

“That was truly…remarkable, I must say.” He said.

“It felt amazing.” You said in reply.

“Now for the next step…allow me to change things up a bit.” He said, changing his sitting position.

He motioned towards his lap.

“Sit on me.” He said.

You shuffled towards him and placed yourself on top of his lap. You gulped as you felt his bulge graze against you. He must’ve felt it too because he let out a slight groan.

“This feeling…is quite intense.” He said.

You were too embarrassed to say anything back, especially since you could feel his cock growing harder and harder. Orpheus could not control his gaze upon you. He was mesmerised.

And you were still wearing your dress. How would he react if you took it off?

And that’s when you decided to step up your game.

Orpheus watched as you moved your hands towards the hem of your dress and lifted it up. You were now only wearing your bra and panties, yet Orpheus could not take your eyes off you at all. His urges were increasing. He was desperate to do anything and everything with you.

“Oh…Y/N…what a beautiful figure you have.” He said in admiration, tracing your skin with his fingers.

He looked into your eyes and could sense the lust that was within them.

“I guess it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t do the same thing, right?” He said, removing his coat. He also began unbuttoning his shirt, then removed it. You lovingly gazed at his perfect chest, using your hand to stroke his bare skin.

Orpheus moved his hands towards the hook of your bra.

“May I?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

He gently unhooked your bra and lifted it off. His expression changed immediately at the sight of your bare breasts in full view and his eyes widened.

“My goodness…I must say, the female body is exquisitely intriguing!” He said.

He gently pushed you down onto the bed, towering above you.

“It is quite the shame that I am not an artist, because it would be a great honour to be able to paint someone like you.” He smiled.

He used his hand to caress each of your breasts one by one, delicately circulating his finger around each nipple which made moans escape your lips.

“That sound…is music to my ears.” He said, lowering his head. He began sucking on one of your nipples.

“Ah! O-Orpheus-” you moaned.

Orpheus enjoyed hearing you moan his name. It made him feel somewhat powerful.

He moved towards your neck.

“Remember when I said before that I don’t bite?”

“Yeah?” You said.

“I lied.” He let out a laugh, before biting your neck. He was gentle but it was painful yet pleasuring.

Orpheus continued biting around your neck and shoulders, leaving a few hickeys around. Marking you as his.

With a deep breath, he got up and you heard the sound of a belt being undone.

You looked at Orpheus and immediately felt your cheeks warming up. He held his dick in his hands, precum dripping from the tip.

“Y/N, for my next experiment…

…may I fill you up with my juices?”

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Lmao imagine something like this in book 3:

Harumi: but now that I'm alone, there's barely anything to do so I try to pass my time with writing

Lloyd: oh that's cool! What do you write?

Harumi: just some green ninja x reader one shots! They're surprisingly popular on the internet!

Lloyd: HUH?!

Lloyd beta reads the heck out of them and constantly makes "suggestions" to a) make sure they're accurate b), make himself cooler c), limit the amount of bashing of the other ninja, and d) he does like them khgfdfgd, and as Harumi values his opinion so highly she takes him up on everything. Otherwise he doesn't actually care that she's writing them since she's actually putting him in a good light, and the ~romances~ are hardly anything more than hand-holding or a kiss on the cheek. But holy smokes he cannot let the other ninja find out–

(ALSO IMAGINE SAMANTHA IS ONE OF HER READERS LMAO)

. . .

Lloyd: I like this plot point with the Green Ninja saving the reader from being crushed by a tank and all, but does the Fuchsia Ninja really need to die at the end...?

Harumi: It adds some ~spice~ to the otherwise basic plot. It helps sets me apart from those other X-Reader writers :3

Lloyd: But sometimes...a basic plot...is good!

Harumi: ...I'm keeping it e-e

. . .

Harumi: Any suggestions for this piece? I feel like some of the detail is a little lacking...

Lloyd: You should totally have the Green Ninja using more weapons in the fight scene, he really likes cannons and rocket launchers. And maybe have him say more nice, general things about the reader, I get the impression he's the type not afraid to tell people what he really thinks of them, but he could still be a little shy. ...And I think you should an explosion behind them as they sail away on the dragon mech instead of a sunset, sunsets are so over done

Harumi: Oooh, you're a visionary *edits*

. . .

Samantha: Oh heck yeah, SilentSister14 just put out a new GN x Reader fic!!! Everyone shut up I'm so reading it right now—!

Antonia: I cannot believe you just announced that.

Samantha: Hey, you would too if you read them! The author's super talented and detailed! It's like she knows the Green Ninja personally or something!!

Antonia: ...no way, send me the link!!

Harumi: *sweating, staring straight ahead trying to pretend she's an unrelated party*

. . .

Lloyd: ...also, why do you keep describing the Green Ninja with gold eyes?!

Harumi: Because that's what color they are, duh

Lloyd: *goes through five stages of grief and seven stages of panic*

. . .

Harumi: ...why are you looking at me like that?

Lloyd: I-I, uh, think you put in a typo in this one...

Harumi: Oh jeez, what?! Where?!

Lloyd: ...the line where the Green Ninja says "And I love you too, Harumi"

Harumi:

Lloyd: ...how many of these are actually about you—?

Harumi: IDONTHAVEACRUSHONTHEGREENNINJA—I mean, I was just really in the mindset while writing!!!! it's a good thing to do, Lloyd!!!!! You're not a writer; you wouldn't understand!!! What better way to understand your character than putting yourself in their shoes, obviously!!! IT MEANS NOTHING

Lloyd:

Lloyd: ......I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you did—he is a pretty heroic guy, and is probably super cool, and smooth, and strong, and awesome, and probably has an excellent taste in a dagger and knife collection—

Harumi: Oh my god, SHUTUP...!

Lloyd: *is going to have an ego the size of texas about this lmao*

[starry-pierrot]

The Fall of The Lamb

Hello hello! Alright I'm getting into angst territory with this one so if you don't like to cry, it's okay :D.

This was inspired by the works of @circuscountdowns , their COTL art has given me life and now you all get to read this bitter sweet story.

Also note that I did take some liberties with the lore of their interpretation and I might not be at all accurate with some detail's here. So please do not try to incorporate anything from this fic into anything that's 'cannon' because it's probably not. Maybe I got a few good guesses in but this isn't an official work by Circus.

With that out of the way-

TW: Eye squishing, blood, stabbing, death.

Narinder awoke on the stone floor of the temple with a jerk, his body back to normal and sore after his fight with Romulus. A groan as he sits up and wipes at his face, noting that he would probably have a few more scars to add to his collection. The wolf had been a surprisingly difficult opponent.

He had put up a good fight but in the end he had lost. 

Narinder picked himself up and dusted off his robes, a shiny glint in the light catching his attention. Seeing the eyeball on the floor he grinned as he picked it up, a smug feeling as he crushed the eye in his palm and let the gore drop to the floor. At least he can take pride in knowing the wolf made it out injured, the Lamb had to be finished with him by now.

Ears flicked as Narinder searched for the sounds of the temple only to notice something.

The whole temple was quiet. 

Something felt off. Wrong. There were no sounds of battle let alone any pained whimpering from a defeated wolf. Narinder wouldn’t admit it but he felt his own heart sink into his stomach and suddenly he was running. Running as he felt the heart in his chest pound a mile a minute as he took corners and ran through doors and soon came to the biggest room in the temple. 

The Lamb had called it their sanctuary, the room having a large open skylight and built around the foliage like an open garden. While they did not hold sermons in this room it was often used as a place to pray and devote oneself. 

Narinder stopped at the sight he came upon. The Lamb’s corpse was on the grassy floor having disintegrated into bones and cloth. The wolf stood nearby looking at his achievement as the red crown sat upon his head, his spear bloodied. 

Suddenly Narinder’s heart slowed down and calmed itself, a sense of painful calmness swept over him. It seems that the time has finally come. They had both known the Lamb can’t be a god forever, that eventually someone would come along and usurp them. Narinder had accepted this fact a long time ago. 

 Composing himself the cat began to walk down the stairs, not taking his eyes off the large godly corpse in the center of the room. All the while the memories they shared together played in his head. 

The first time meeting the Lamb after their beheading, how loyal they had become and how much he enjoyed their banter. The betrayal and pain. Further betrayal of rescuing his family without even consulting him. 

But then there were the good memories. The ones where the Lamb managed to get under his skin and somehow claw their way into his heart. Aym and Baal being brought back to him. All the annoying little quirks that made him laugh. He almost chuckles at the memory of the Lamb soaked in ocean water and covered in seaweed from when Narinder threw them in the water. 

First kisses and nights cuddled up in bed as they talked quietly. Private moments where the two couldn’t get enough of each other and even the ones where they argued. Of holding the Lamb as they wept. 

Their wedding day. Oh how the Lamb had looked so beautiful in their robes, the jewelry on their neck and horns shone brilliantly in the light. What Narinder wouldn’t give to see them like that one more time. 

His heart aches at the realization that this morning had been the last time he would see the Lamb alive. The last deep kiss between them. The last heartfelt words as they had laid in bed for just a bit longer than they should have. 

The last, "I'll see you tonight, love!”

Of course it wouldn’t be the last of them being together in the end, but that didn’t stop it from hurting so much. 

“Ha! Weeping for your fallen god, Witness?” The wolf barked at him as Narinder reached the last step, walking towards the Lamb’s remains. 

“It is nature to be cyclical. Gods die not because they are weak but because they must.” Continuing to walk up to the ribs of his lover’s corpse it didn’t take him long to find what he had been looking for. Oh so carefully Narinder picked up the Lamb’s heart, still somewhat warm but no longer beating. 

“Hey that’s-” Romulus took a step forward before Narinder cut him off. 

“No. That crown may be yours by conquest….but this will always be mine.” Holding the heart against his own he relished in the feeling of it for a moment before walking deeper into the cavern of the ribs. 

“Leave us now.” Narinder demanded while reaching over to break off a pointed bone. 

“Tch-How can I trust you wont-” 

“Leave us.” He demanded once more, his tone leaving no room for the wolf to argue. Not unless he wanted to start another fight. One Narinder knew the wolf would not live through. 

Romulus stared for a good minute seemingly understanding what Narinder had intended to do, eventually turning away with a scoff. The crown weeping on his head. “Whatever.” 

Alone for the final time Narinder settled down against a rib and once more looked into his memories. He could still see that annoying smile that he loved so much on that face. Still sees the eyes that were full of love for him. 

It wouldn’t be long now before they were together again. 

–

“I only want to remind you that, as I have seen your rise, I will gladly witness the fall.” 

The Lamb’s skin was warm as his palm rested against their cheek, seeing that tear fall from their eye. 

“You would stay with me through even that? Promise?” 

–

“Promise.” 

Giving the heart one last gentle squeeze before he lifted the pointed bone up in his hand, a tear falling down his cheek. With a final breath he plunged the bone into the heart he held and into his own. A pained grunt slipped out of his throat as well as more tears. 

Leaning back fully against the bone he waited. 

And soon he was seeing white. 

The lands around him are just the same as they’ve ever been. Once his place of imprisonment now his new home. He no longer felt the heaviness of which the chains had held him here, no longer did he despise the after under his breath. No, it was beautiful and he felt as light as a feather. 

A bleat had him snapping his head towards a figure, a figure dressed in the same robes they wore on their wedding day. Not willing to wait a moment longer, Narinder broke into a run, his own clothing being those from the same day. 

“Narin-” The Lamb didn’t get a chance to say anymore as they were tackled, arms tightly around them as lips peppered their face and soon finding their lips. They couldn’t help the laughter as eventually Narinder pulled back just to look at them. “Hey hey it’s alright!” They soothed as the cat cried into their neck. “Why the waterworks, kitty? We knew this would happen. You promised me.” 

“..Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt stupid Lamb.” Narinder refused to let go and the Lamb didn’t try to pull him off. 

“Ah. I’m sorry.” Their voice was beginning to sound as tight as Narinder’s, a tear falling down their own cheeks. They stayed like that for a long while, just holding each other. 

Soon others had found them, Narinder’s family as well as their cultists. 

And other lambs, goats and ewe's. 

Hand in hand once more Narinder and the Lamb walked into the white fog, to be together again.  

It’s said if you were to take a walk into an old temple, one that belonged to a Lamb you would find the bones of a god.

 And if you took a closer look you would find the bones of one who has been said to have been devoted to the god. 

So devoted in fact that you can feel it around you and if you leave a bundle of camellias you’ll be blessed with long lasting love of the deepest kind. 

-----

Thank you for reading! Please like and reblog if you liked it : ) And please let me know if i missed any they/them pronouns, I get my words mixed up sometimes and I'll gladly fix it!

[dysfunctional-doodle]

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NEW CHAPTER

i’m sure the music will keep you entertained!

like that he doesn’t comment on the fourth wall breaking anymore. also, surprisingly accurate description for donnie!

i bet he has a fifth sense. i bet his plastron can tell the weather

the absolute SASS of this turtle omg

this is my favourite voice note description right here. this one.

the blatant dr prankenstein erasure from dr prankenstein himself…… smh………… (love all the titles he has for himself tho)

HE’S SO SWEET I CAN’T HANDLE IT AGHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭 (i love the pb&j duos you write here)

sobbing absolutely sobbing the pb&j is strong with this one ,,,,,, oh my hearttttttt

dude this fic gets better chapter by chapter, it’s mega ultra super impressive!!

i await tech’s response somewhat anxiously…….. oooooooo this is gonna be GOOOD

mildly worried that i’ll miss a few chapters when i go to poland for summer because i’m not allowed to use my devices there as often cus y’know we don’t see our family so often so let’s not let the phone get in the way but HEY we’ll see how things go! i probably won’t be crawling around in your imbox for the next few updates (depends when we’re going. i wish i could remember)

uhhhh anyways yeah! this is a super cool chapter, love how you write pb&j duo through any universe, and i can’t wait to read more! :3

I love the pb&j duo, ranking second on my personal list (beaten slightly by the sunset duo in some iterations, mainly 2003). As a whole I like the B Team dynamic the best, as sometimes it is favoured above the sunset duo depending on the iteration :)

I am actually on holiday starting tomorrow, for a week, so I might be delayed in updating anyway dw. I hope you enjoy your trip, sounds so cool!

[saintsenara]

sparkling cyanide hokey & hepzibah smith general | 1.4k words

they is not knowing that we is knowing how to take the lives we is wanting from them. and that is why they is not thinking about how many weapons they is putting in kitchens.

tom riddle had nothing to do with the death of hepzibah smith. hokey had just had enough of being a slave.

this piece was written for week fourteen of @ladiesofhpfest, which focuses on the non-human ladies of the harry potter series [you can find the masterlist of the week’s fics here], which, here, means hokey, the house elf enslaved by hepzibah smith.

or, as we shall call her from hereon out, eokhí, which is how her name is accurately transcribed from the elvish language [more on which below].

for a story which only has 1,400 words, there is a lot to say about this one. some author’s notes under the cut:

the title is the same as that of agatha christie’s 1945 novel sparkling cyanide - published in the united states as remembered death - for which there are some spoilers immediately to follow. it is not, let me be frank, agatha’s best [not least because it’s a rewrite of a poirot short story, the yellow iris] but there are several things about it which appealed to me when i was writing this: that it deals with a death initially presumed not to be murder; that it has multiple suspects, including a young man who appears to desire wealth; and that the murder weapon is a poisoned drink.

the poison - in christie’s case and in mine - is potassium cyanide. this is obviously a deviation from what we are told in half-blood prince - in which dumbledore describes the poison used to kill hepzibah as "rare" - since cyanide is probably one of the better known methods of doing away with troublesome old ladies, but it has been my headcanon for quite a while: cyanide looks very similar to sugar; it's highly soluble; its bitter taste requires something sweet [like cocoa] to mask it; it kills its victim extremely quickly; and it wouldn’t be completely bizarre for it to be found in a wizarding house. cyanide was a standard component of silver polish until surprisingly recently, and i am choosing to believe that this is the same in the wizarding world. in her interview with the aurors, eokhí just happens to mention that hepzibah wanted a pair of silver candlesticks polished the day she died, and everyone considers the matter settled.

i’ve always been fascinated by the murder of hepzibah smith, not least because - as it’s described in canon - it’s a massive deviation from voldemort’s usual modus operandi. hepzibah is the only person we know to have been poisoned by him, and the only person we know to have been killed using - essentially - a muggle method [even if the poison in jkr’s head is magical, stirring it into a cup of cocoa isn’t]. above all, i am obsessed about what it says about voldemort that the hyper-feminine [even if the text treats her attempts at femininity as ridiculous - something which eokhí agrees with] hepzibah is killed in such a feminine-coded way: poison is known in pop-culture as a "woman’s weapon" - even if statistical evidence doesn’t confirm this - and a domestic one; and the image of hepzibah dying in her own home, over a cosy cup of cocoa, as punishment for insulting voldemort’s mother [whose death kept him from that experience] is really striking.

a part of the murder which is more usual for voldemort is that he frames someone else. however, unlike with his framing of morfin gaunt for the murder of the three riddles, which is made to look deliberate, he makes eokhí’s involvement in hepzibah’s death look accidental, and eokhí appears to receive no punishment from the ministry of magic. this undoubtedly has nothing to do with any compassion for her on voldemort’s part; he chooses it because it’s the most plausible cover he can give himself, and this must be because wizards know that elves cannot deliberately harm their masters.

or, at least, think they know that.

poison’s association with women and the domestic sphere obviously means it has a reputation for being the means by which servants bump off their masters - and, specifically, how female servants bump off their mistresses. i very much like the idea of witches laughing in a self-satisfied way, thinking that they never have to worry - like silly old muggles - about being done away with by their cooks, while the loophole which elves have noticed and have been exploiting for centuries stares them right in the face.

because we see in canon that elves are perfectly capable of indirectly harming their masters - dobby spends the entirety of chamber of secrets doing it - and so, when eokhí decides she has had enough of her mistreatment at hepzibah’s hands, all she has to do is get the poison out of the cupboard, put it in a dish, and let hepzibah choke on her own arrogance.

eokhí is a type of elf we only see glimpses of in canon - one who does not want to be a slave. the house-elf plotline is the weakest in the series for many reasons, but one i always find particularly galling is that dobby’s revolutionary zeal in chamber of secrets, in which he talks of whisper networks of elves decrying their ill-treatment at the hands of wizards and celebrating voldemort’s death, vanishes in goblet of fire, when the standard elvish position seems to correspond with the wizarding one: that being a slave is great and wanting freedom is bizarre.

eokhí said fuck that. this story is one of disrespect and rage and revenge, and of the triumphant pleasure of reclaiming the space which was once used to oppress you, as eokhí goes from waking up in a nest of blankets on the kitchen floor - because she’s not allowed a real bed, unlike hepzibah - to eating the cakes she has always been denied while hepzibah lies dead in the parlour.

it is also a story of language.

we hear several elves speak in canon, although only three in any great detail: dobby, winky, and kreacher. there are differences across their speech - dobby and kreacher tend to speak in the third-person, winky tends to speak in the first-person; kreacher uses the present continuous the least, winky uses it the most - but none speak in standard british [or american] english, and there are similarities - such as a tendency to use non-standard conjugations of verbs ["i is not sure you did dobby a favour, sir"] - among all three.

in harry potter, characters who speak in non-standard english are generally coded in one of three ways: foreign [fleur, krum]; simple-minded [hagrid]; or shifty [mundungus fletcher, amycus carrow]. which - if any - of these readings is intended for elves is up for debate, although my own view is that elves’ language is intended to make the reader agree with the standard wizarding opinion that they are less sophisticated or rational than humans and that their subordinate position in wizarding society is natural and justifiable. this is, obviously, something the text partially pulls the rug from under - the underestimation of both dobby and kreacher’s powers and agency is a significant contributor to harry’s victory - but it always feels, given the series’ failure to fully stick the landing on whether it thinks slavery is a bad thing, not as pointed or ironic as it may have been intended to be.

i prefer to think of elves as having their own language, used among themselves, to which wizards have no access. but i also think that it does them a disservice to think of the language they use to interact with wizards as simply non-standard - or, more dismissively, "broken" - english. i think we should imagine that all adult elves are fluent speakers of two languages: the elvish language; and what we might call elvish creole, which - like all creole languages - is not a dialect, but a full language in its own right.

eokhí’s story is written in this language. some of its linguistic features are:

phonetics: in goblet of fire, dobby is shown to think that ron’s surname is pronounced "wheezy". he thinks this because the elvish language of course has its own phonetics, which particularly affect the transcription of proper nouns which are not habitually used in elvish or elvish creole. two examples are important to this story: the elvish language doesn’t have an aspirated h- [as in, how a speaker of standard british english would pronounce "hokey"] and it doesn’t have a plosive p- [as in, how a speaker of standard british english would pronounce "hepzibah"]. that hepzibah expects eokhí to pronounce her name properly and yet doesn’t extend this basic courtesy to her should not surprise us.

names: three elves we meet in canon - dobby, winky, and hokey - have names which end in an "ee" sound. as eokhí explains, this is because elves are usually named after nouns, and the nominative singular of nouns in the elvish language end in -í. plural nouns end in -é. [kreacher’s name appears to be an adaptation of the word "creature", which suggests that he was dehumanised to such an extent that his masters wouldn’t even make an attempt to pronounce his real name.]

elves do not speak the names of their dead. eokhí refers only to eokhí’s mother, rather than using the name she had when she was living. wizards do not realise they are being disrespected when elves use their names after they are gone.

pronouns: the elves we see in canon tend to use illeism. that is, they refer to themselves in the third-person singular - he, she - most of the time. although winky uses the first-person singular - i - regularly, dobby only uses it occasionally, and kreacher never does. they also tend to use their own names as pronouns - "kreacher is cleaning" - particularly when needing to add emphasis or clarity to sentences. eokhí never uses the first-person singular, for reasons connected to elves’ traditions about the self. she would explain to us that when elves refer to themselves as "i", they are choosing to speak standard english for the benefit of their wizarding audience, and she doesn’t feel hepzibah deserves that effort.

verbs: the elves we see in canon generally only use the third-person singular of verbs - "i says" - regardless of pronoun choice. eokhí does the same, since both elvish and elvish creole have no plural verb forms and only one grammatical person, once again connected to elves’ traditions about the self.

the elves we meet in canon also tend to use the present continuous - "my master is telling winky some things" - frequently, often in a context which would not feel intuitive for speakers of standard english. in eokhí’s speech, the present continuous is used to show actions which are repeated or habitual - "eokhí is waking up one morning in her nest on the kitchen floor" - while the simple present refers both to general statements of fact - "eokhí is a slave" - or to one-off actions "eokhí decides that is it".

in the past tense, similar principles apply: eokhí uses the past continuous - the smith family "was wanting to be looked after" by eokhí’s mother - to describe repeated or habitual actions and the simple past for general or singular events. the future continuous is used both for actions which will be repeated or habitual and for actions which will take a indeterminate time to conclude - "eokhí is going to be fighting back", her battle is not just done with hepzibah dead - rather than simple actions with a defined end-point.

such as "she will eat".