#be quiet for me fic

[somerandomcockroach]

"Mistakes on mistakes until" (my speed of reading is that one day where every planet stands in one line)

2 chapter in nutshell

3 chapter in nutshell

[s0fter-sin]

ghost who sleeps in nik’s black hawk when his insomnia is at its worst

when he can’t sleep for the paranoia eating away at his chest, when every creak and sound is an enemy creeping to his door, when everyone and everything is just too loud he asks nik for the keys

personal weapons aren’t allowed in the base housing but the hangers? those are fair game. he can load himself up with enough bullets and knives to be a one man army; rifles pointed out each window as he hunkers down with only a blanket to protect himself from the cold hard metal

no one but nik knows he sleeps out here and with the base asleep, if ghost hears anyone, he’ll know it’s an enemy. that surety settles the beast in his chest enough for him to finally drift off into a solid sleep for the first time in a month

no one but nik knows on these rare nights that he stands watch outside the hanger while ghost sleeps; gun in hand, standing guard for the man who tirelessly protects the rest of them, no matter the consequences

[lukazade]

These kids are NOT studying rn

[halflifebutawesome]

movie night

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[a-most-beloved-fool]

There's a spirk fic (tos, probably?) I've been looking for and failing to find recently, but unfortunately literally the ONLY thing I remember about it is that Uhura has some POV moments where she muses about how much more sociable and talkative Spock seems now that Kirk is captain and has taken the time to befriend him. I think Spock is yappin about science on the bridge, to Kirk's obvious delight, and she feels a bit guilty that she never realized that his former quiet nature wasn't actually fully by choice.

I do not remember anything else about the plot. It was almost certainly complete, since I rarely read wips (I'm a coward, I confess), it would have been on AO3, and I've checked through the POV Uhura tags, so I don't think it's there - though I suppose I could have missed it? - but that's all I know.

But on the off chance any of you happen to know exactly what I'm taking about, let me know! I will be very grateful. <3

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Imagine…

BAU!reader being married to Hotch but keeping her maiden name in the field to avoid assumptions and judgment. The team knows, obviously, but then a former colleague of Aaron’s from the Seattle office happens to be in town for a conference and wants to catch up over a drink. You can’t help but tease him, of course:

“Knock, knock,” you murmur, leaning against the doorway to your husband’s office. With a glance at your watch, you ask, “Y’gonna be late for your date?”

Aaron looks up at you with a frown before returning his attention to his case file and mumbling, “Not a date.”

“Mm, my apologies,” you respond with a twitch of your lips as you approach his desk. You lean your elbows on the dark wood and rest your chin in your open hands. Batting your eyelashes, you amend, “It’s a meeting betwixt old coworkers.”

Aaron rises from his chair, pressing his fists against the desk opposite you and positively towering over your smaller stature. He meets your fiery gaze with equal defiance, then leans forward to press a kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Are you our resident Reid while he’s with his mom? Who says ‘betwixt’?”

“Oh, shut up, nerd,” you taunt back between kisses of your own. “You collected coins; I played Scrabble. Now get going! Can’t leave a lady waiting for the Aaron Hotchner.”

—————

But WAIT! There’s more! Said agent gets a call while they’re out for a drink and asks Aaron and the BAU for help on a new case. Naturally, you all have to fly to Seattle together…

“Mama, you know this cabin is pressurized, right?” Derek teases with a nudge of your shoulder.

You mumble back around a sip of coffee, “Yeah, so?”

“So if you glare any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole through the jet and we’re all gonna die up here.”

Emily snorts out a laugh and you steal a Cheeto from JJ’s snack (for which you’re met with a stern, “Hey!”) to throw at her. Emily collects the offensive projectile from her lap and pops it into her mouth with a ferocious chomp in your direction, receiving an, “Oh, bite me, Prentiss,” in response.

“Just find a way to slip in that you’re married,” JJ counsels, moving the bag out of your reach to avoid further retaliation.

“Or accidentally fall into his lap. Turbulence can be nasty, you know,” Emily offers as a follow up.

“Like that?” you deadpan, jutting your chin toward the scene at the back of the jet. Aaron and Agent Brandt are over by the coffee, and she’s just steadied herself using your husband’s broad shoulder.

“Or,” Derek counteroffers, tugging at the chain around your neck that holds your wedding and engagement rings while you’re out in the field, “put this rock on and go claim your man!”

“This is dumb. I’m being dumb,” you grumble, flipping open the case file and burying your head in it. “Can we get back to talking about this sociopath and not my high school-esque jealousy?”

“What’s happening? Did I miss anything?” Garcia’s blonde curls bounce up on the monitor before your group, ready for the next installment of this evidently riveting saga.

“Nothing is happening, Pen,” you respond with a sharp look her way, “and y’all need to get out more. Watch a romcom or something if you need some angst.”

“You all completely suck,” Penelope sighs dramatically. “My cup runneth empty in my lair!”

“Then go get yourself another cappuccino, baby girl,” Derek answers smoothly with that dazzling smile of his, perched on the armrest of your seat.

You feel his presence before you hear his voice, every atom in your body suddenly on high alert and keenly aware of everything that is Aaron. “Hey.”

You look up at him with an easy smile, determined to not let your unwarranted bitterness reflect on your work. “What’s up, Hotch?”

He squats down in the aisle beside you so he’s not looming over you and brushes his knuckles across your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender touch, given your current audience. “Do you have that travel bottle of Advil? Brandt may have been overzealous with the margaritas last night.”

“Yeah, it’s… in the side pocket of my bag,” you answer, brow furrowed because he tossed it in there this morning to ward off your inevitable headaches during the coming late nights.

“You’re the best, honey,” he murmurs, standing halfway to press a kiss to your forehead before returning to his full height and going off in search of the pain killer.

“‘Overzealous with the margaritas’, huh?” Emily teases, then starts singing the viral song about just how many margaritas are needed to perform certain acts that shan’t be discussed in polite company.

From across the plane, Dave glances at Aaron who’s rummaging through the overhead luggage bin, then turns his attention to you with a knowing gaze. You avert your eyes, feeling a blush creeping across your cheeks, and settle back in your seat before flipping through the case file in front of you. “So crime scene photos would suggest we’re dealing with a disorganized killer…”

—————

But WAIT! There’s even more!

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[eyesoftheholder]

idea that odile figures out loop is siffrin but she keeps it to herself unsure of what vaugardian etiquette would be appropriate in the situation.

so someone else is like “omg siffrin is loop!” odile’s like “wait i thought we all knew and were just quiet about it to be polite”

[luna-the-cretar]

So apparently bats can purr like cats, and now I’m picturing a scenario where Lethica and Marius are cuddling or whatever, and Marius starts fucking purring, and he’s so embarrassed but Lethica finds it extremely endearing

And then Briggsy and Jericho find out, and Jericho is like “oh, don’t worry Marius, Virgil makes all sorts o’ weird noises all the time!”, and Briggsy makes fun of him for it at first, but then later tells Marius that he sometimes make crocodile noises in certain situations. It just comes with the whole “being part animal” thing

[morganbritton132]

One of those Bullet Train fics where Ladybug turns up at Lemon and Tangerine’s safe house except they’re in London and it’s not a safe house, it’s their foster mom’s house and she invited Ladybug in to stay. Now everybody’s got to pretend that they work in sales and don’t kill people for a living while two thirds of them silently debate killing the other third in his sleep.

[feroluce]

I've only recently started having my own thoughts about Emanator!Sampo and I think my favorite version of this is that he is technically an Emanator, it's just that he doesn't talk about it because Aha is a dick who only blesses people that don't want it and Sampo hates it here dkjxkdkdck

Aha blessed the Mourning Actors! A whole faction of people who have specifically made it their life's mission to resist Elation! THEY made a literal worm THEIR Emanator just to see if it would be accepted into the Genius Society! And when it wasn't, Aha just as easily killed it and tossed it aside! So I feel like there is a good possibility that Aha looked down at Sampo, this little oddball who doesn't seem to even like Epsilon or a lot of the Masked Fools and was like.

Hey.

You know what would be really really funny.

And I feel like being an Emanator wouldn't even be a plus for Sampo, because of how he operates. Sampo excels at blending in; he managed to smuggle himself onto a planet

that had been isolated for 700 years,

with only one (1) single city on it,

and going even further, he snuck himself into the Underground,

where the population is even more sparse,

and STILL. Not a single accusation of him being an alien! Not even after the Astral Express lands and proves that interstellar space travel is possible! Sampo is so thoroughly ingrained into Belobog that yeah, some people admit they don't know his origins, but none of it ever comes with the question of whether he actually is a Belobog native or not. Sampo knows exactly how to blend himself into his surroundings in the most subtle way possible. And being an Emanator, something far more powerful than any normal human or Pathstrider could ever hope to be, would only throw in a massive extra variable for him. Sampo would have to be so so careful to keep a lid on his Emanator traits, to keep up the appearance of being totally normal and average at all times. It doesn't help him at all.

And this part is pure indulgence, but I love taking Aha's closeness with mortals, and THEIR tendency to take human form, and twisting it into a case of THEM using Sampo as a vessel.

I want Aha to look at Sampo the same way all of us look at Sampo. A chew toy. A plaything. Something to shove through the meat grinder. Aha thinks Sampo is hilarious and a funny, silly little guy, and THEY want to put him in Situations just to see what he does. Sampo is not a fan.

This though, this is what makes Sampo so wildly entertaining as a vessel. Because Aha knows that Sampo does not want to be a vessel, does not even want to be an Emanator, and THEY find it SO much fun to watch the mental gymnastics he has to pull to convince himself he's ok with it, this is fine actually, because he's not exactly about to tell off a literal god. He doesn't feel like getting a smiting today, please and thank you.

Because squeezing yourself into a human vessel is so different than merely adopting a human disguise, there's already a human soul in there, it's kind of a tight fit. If Sampo doesn't make room, doesn't all but dissociate right out of his own body, it could cause. Consequences.

And so, Aha always gives a warning, just to watch him squirm.

It begins with the sound of bells.

Just little ones, at first. Small, clinking little sounds that could even be considered nice. Something almost gentle, like a wind chime in a pleasant breeze on a warm day. This is the signal for the countdown.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Makes himself as small as possible within his own body.

The bells rise and multiply, tinkling wind chimes give way to sleigh bells, to shopkeepers bells, the sound of something inevitable approaching, something entering.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Dilutes himself, weaker and weaker concentrations.

The bells rise and rise, multiply and multiply, celebration and tragedy resonating in the sound of church bells, ringing bright and loud, the sounds of weddings and funerals both the same.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Becomes like smoke, like vapor. Hollows himself out.

Empty, empty, empty until he echoes, like a bell, like something with the sole purpose of being shaken and rattled around, a thing to be struck, the sounds jarring and punched out and gasping and piercing the air, the lung, the eardrum.

Sampo breathes in.

Beaten he rings, bashed in he sings.

Aha breathes out.

[the-broken-pen]

Hey can you do one about a villain with teleporting powers

The hero woke up gasping, scrambling upright in bed as the back of their neck tingled in warning. Their eyes darted around the room, blurry, before settling on the far wall.

The villain watched them, idle and unimpressed.

The hero’s lungs, traitorously, forgot how to breathe. They wheezed slightly, one hand clenching onto the blanket, the other sliding underneath the pillow for their knife, where–

The villain hummed, and the hero’s attention snapped back to them at the same time they managed to draw in a painful, terror-addled breath. The villain’s gaze was unnerving as they flipped a knife over their knuckles.

The hero’s knife.

“You,” the hero managed, but they couldn’t think of anything to say, and they were so tired and their pulse was jackrabbiting in their ears.

The villain seemed to know this.

“I warned you,” they said. They didn’t even sound mean about it. Just a gentle reminder–hey, don’t forget to check the mail, hey, it’s your mom’s birthday, hey, can you feed the dog?

‘If you keep interfering, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth and make you stop. There is nowhere I will not find you. Do you hear me? You cannot run from me, so don’t make me chase you.’

The hero swallowed.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it.”

The villain nodded like they had expected this. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, though, yeah?”

The hero knew the right answer. They knew that the proper response would be to slide off the bed onto their knees, to swear in every language they knew that they wouldn’t do it again. That the villain would be the only one allowed to splash blood onto the streets of their city, and the hero would choke on the pain of doing nothing and stay silent in it.

“You knew I wasn’t going to listen to you,” the hero said, and it was accusatory. The villain shifted slightly. “You had to have known I wouldn’t stop just because you threatened me.”

The villain shrugged one shoulder. 

“Of course I did. If you were the type of person who would have stopped, I would have killed you instead of giving you a warning.”

The hero’s grip tightened on the blanket. “That doesn’t make sense. If I was going to stop then why kill me–”

“I don’t believe in weakness,” the villain interrupted. Their gaze was searching and heavy on the hero’s face, knife still spinning over their knuckles. “Which is why you’re alive, because you have never been weak.”

The hero’s jaw tensed.

“You wanted this.”

The hint of a smile pulled at the villain’s mouth.

“Of course I did. You think I didn’t know you would try and run? You think I didn’t know exactly how you would react the moment I threatened anyone in that cursed city?”

“So you weren’t actually going to kill anyone?”

“Oh, no,” the villain corrected. “Of course I was going to. They don’t matter to me.”

The hero’s stomach turned. 

“Those are people–”

“They’re a drop in an ocean of humanity. You know better than to think I would care about something so trivial,” the villain said.

“They’re not trivial–”

The villain sighed, harsh in the darkness of the room.

“I bore of this. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

The hero jolted back.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The villain sighed again, as if they were dealing with an unruly child and getting a headache for their efforts. It sent the hero bristling like an angry cat.

“There’s nowhere you can go that I can’t find you. You know that, right? There is no end of the line for this. You can drive until you run out of gasoline, until your feet bleed, and you drain your accounts of money. And I will follow, and I will leave every person who helped you nothing more than a stain on the ground, until you decide the trail of bodies isn’t worth avoiding me. Is that really something you want?”

The hero set their jaw, rising to their feet. 

“You won’t find me,” they swore. And the villain–

The villain laughed.

“I know your face. Of course I can find you.”

The hero was missing something, and the lack of knowledge felt like a sword over their head. 

“I don’t–”

“There’s no way you would have known,” the villain said gently, like they knew how much it bothered the hero that they were missing something that was apparently vital. 

They probably did know.

The hero glared.

The villain looked on the verge of another laugh.

“Once I’ve seen a face, I can find a person anywhere in the world. No matter how far. That’s all I need. You could go to the other side of the planet, and I could teleport to you without a second thought.”

The hero gaped.

“Any face?”

The villain paused. “Yes.”

The hero’s throat went abruptly dry.

Any face–

“You could do so much good,” the hero said, and their voice broke slightly. “Do you know how many people you could save? Natural disasters and missing persons cases and–”

“You misunderstand me.”

“You could–”

“I don’t want to do good.”

The hero stopped.

“You don’t want to do good,” they said flatly.

“I am not a good person,” the villain said. “I don’t want to do good. I want power, and I want to do as I please, and I want you.”

The hero was going to be sick on the wooden flooring. They were barefoot, and weaponless, and that fear still ran up their spine.

“I am a person. You cannot have a person.”

“You are a glorious, powerful being,” the villain countered.

“That doesn’t make me less of a person.”

“No,” the villain agreed. “But it does make you something other than trivial. How could I do anything other than want to have that?”

The hero backed up a step.

“You can’t have me.”

The villain matched them, silent even as they stepped forward.

“You plan to run?”

They sounded amused.

The hero supposed that was better than anger.

“Stay over there,” the hero said shakily. The villain obliged, settling their hands into their pockets. Like this was a means to an end. They had flipped to the back of the book and read the ending, and were watching the hero catch up to the scenes they had already seen played out. The villain’s eyes burned into them.

And abruptly, skin going cold, the hero realized there truly wasn’t a way out of this for them.

The villain would never let them be. They could run, like the villain said, and the villain could kill every person who so much as looked their way. They could hide, and stumble through cities and down alleys and the villain would always be around the corner. 

They had little doubt that every other person in this shitty motel was already dead. 

The villain grinned like they could read every thought as it crossed the hero’s face.

“Where will you go,” the villain said. They stepped forward until they were close enough to touch. 

It wasn’t really the sort of question that wanted an answer.

“Everyone else in this building is dead, aren’t they?”

The villain cocked their head, as if to say, Come now, you know the answer to that.

The hero didn’t think they would ever be able to draw a full breath again.

“Where,” the villain said, soft like a secret. “Will you go, little hero?”

It felt like dying. It felt like reaching out to help someone a second too late. A second too slow to catch the building as it fell. The wrong side of a fire before it blew up.

“With you,” they whispered, and the villain smiled wider.

“What was that?”

“You heard me,” the hero snapped, and thrust their hand out. The villain took it without hesitation.

They tugged the hero into them, leaning to slot their mouth next to the hero’s ear. The hair on the back of the hero’s neck stood up.

“You could do so much bad,” the villain whispered, and the hero ground their teeth hard enough to hurt.

Anger flared bright enough to drain every ounce of fear from their body. Because this was the worst case scenario, wasn’t it? What could be lost.

“Every step you make, every blow you deal and fire you start, I’ll be there. And I'll stop you. Again, and again, and again. You want me?” The hero bared their teeth. “Then have me.”

The villain tugged them closer, and laughed.

“I look forward to it,” the villain replied, and then darkness swallowed the both of them whole.

A week later, a team of agents entered the motel to find it coated in blood and the smell of death.

A month later, everyone knew there was a fight of immovable power and unstoppable force shattering its way across the world. 

A year later, the victor panted through a bloody grin, bruised and crackling with vicious unleashed power, and laughed. Because truly, the ending had been on the horizon since the moment the two of them had first met.

[umikislibrary]

Randomly tryna come up with new ship name for moonwater like catmoon, mooncat, the moon and the tides, wolfcat, clawsx2, hissesx2, fangsx2, the bros who kiss after reading one line of poetry.

[uhhlifeig]

Anticipation - Dec. 23rd - word count: 343 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The room narrowed down to just the two of them

Sure, a majority of their friends and their friends’ friends may also have been in that room, and the music may have been blasting at full volume, but that really didn’t matter.

What did matter was Sirius’s outfit for the night.

He was looking- well, he had a crop top and low-rise jeans on. And wasn’t that something? 

Also, the jeans were Remus’s. Like, whomst the fuck gave Sirius the rights to look that hot? Good lord.

Remus kept his thoughts to himself, though. There was no use in lusting after a friend that would never like him back.

~~~~~

A group of people settled into a circle for spin the bottle, Remus included. It was about an hour and a half after the party started, and everyone was about sloshed enough to reflect that. 

To Remus’s great delight, Sirius also sat down in the circle, right next to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“Alright!” James cheered. “Marlene, you’re first!”

Marlene reached in the middle, spinning the bottle. The mouth end landed on Mary, who shrugged and proceeded to kiss her friend. 

“My turn to choose!” Marlene drunkenly crowed as she broke the kiss. “Sirius, you’re up!”

Remus watched with anticipation as Sirius reached out with his long, slender fingers and spun the bottle. He watched as the mouth landed on him. 

Him, as in Remus John Lupin, aspiring author extraordinaire.

He felt like he was floating as Sirius looked at him from where he was seated, and used those fingers to tilt his jaw so that Remus was now facing Sirius head on.

He barely registered Sirius tentatively slotting their lips together. But oh, God, did everything focus as soon as Remus could taste him. 

He pulled Sirius closer, until he was practically in Remus’s lap.

They continued like this for another minute or so, before:

“Oi! Get a room, you two!” Peter yelled as James and Marlene cheered. “No one wants to see two lovebirds snogging!”

[yearninflowers]

please elaborate the cult leader!Sunday... the whole class is curious (love all of your fics, btw! <33)

Thank you for taking your time to read my fics, i'm genuinely happy hearing you like all of them o(^o^)o !

The sunday fic

Actually for that fic, the main idea was cult leader!sunday who manages a whole cult worshipping the very grounds you walk on, with a bunch of other people (whom you may or may not know) he succeeded in persuading. If that cult was successfully built, he won't tell you about it until after he 'persuaded' you too, because what if you suddenly get scared of him? He can't let that happen. He can't let you get away after all that he did for you.

Well, anyway, it'll all be easy for him. After all, he's a master of manipulation; it's a piece of cake to build a place wholly to pray to you.

But i kind of scrapped that idea and turned it into him just worshipping you alone (at the moment, maybe?). While i like the initial idea a lot more, i think the ending where he wants to be your only devotee fits him best. It somewhat implies how much he wants to keep you as his only deity (read: he's obsessed with control). What if someone taints the ever so pure you? He won't allow it. But maybe, after he 'wakes' you up from your human state and finally makes you realise that you are meant to be worshipped by someone (sunday especially), he might spread around a word or two about you.

Ah, also, in line with me elaborating more about the sunday fic, i think i didn't quite express the part when sunday's face 'turns' into something scary, specifically this part:

This time, Sunday didn't immediately smile. He didn't reassure you right away. His face looked unlike what you knew of him.

It's just that he always puts a kind person facade to almost everyone around him, including you. When he knew that someone deliberately made up a rumour about him having relations with a cult, he was a little more than mad. He wasn't mad at you, of course! He was just a little frustrated that he can't immediately spill around the fact that he is worshipping you, not some other being!

He was angry, yet excited. His heart feels like it could just leap out from his chest and shout to the world that he loves and adores you! What better way to show that love than to worship you? Even if you don't understand it when he explains everything to you one day, he will gladly drill it into your mind that you are meant to be worshipped no matter how long it takes ♡

You have to accept his love, even if it's tainted with the ugliness of delusions.

If you want me to elaborate more about a specific part of the fic (or even another fic), please don't be shy to send another ask! I'm happy to share around unsaid or implied informations about my fics!

[midnightdemonhunter]

But don't worry. By then, he wants to.

(@romanromulus :D )