#because they are the slowest of burns

[eddiediaaz]

everyday i remember that merlin is STILL waiting by avalon for arthur to return. after like. almost a fucking millennia!!!! and everyday i go

WHO ELSE can match these freaks?????

[itsdefinitely]

could you pretty please perhaps draw Richie x Jason 🙏🙏💗

kyle put him up to this

[54625]

their dynamic

[sourw0lfs]

My 'Steve gets taken instead of Barb' AU has been churning in my brain for a couple of weeks now and I'm desperate to give it some love and attention, even if I have other WIPs that need my attention more, so I'm throwing a sneak peek out into the world <3

~*~*~*~

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?”

Steve’s voice is little more than a frantic whisper as he tries to right himself, hands and feet scrambling under him as they slide on… he doesn’t even know what that is, but it feels disgusting under his fingers. And he wants— No, he needs to get away from it now.

He also desperately needs to get away from whatever the fuck is growling nearby.

Finally he gets some kind of traction and propels himself out of… Steve doesn’t stop to look around and find out. Instead he just heaves himself up and takes off for the line of dead, decrepit trees he can see in the distance. His breaths come in harsh pants and he wants to look over his shoulder, to see if what he heard is chasing him, but he doesn’t. Instead he keeps his eyes forward, pushing as much as he can to create distance between himself and whatever the fuck that thing is.

It’s only once the burn in his legs is too much to bear that Steve stops. His palms find his knees as he doubles over, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath again. Every muscle in his body feels like it’s going to shake free with how much he’s tremble, both from the exertion and the fear, and it’s all Steve can do to keep his feet under him.

Around him, the world is quiet, broken only by the strained gasps.

Once he finally feels like he might not pass out from lack of air, Steve straightens up and looks around. It’s hard to make anything out in the dark, but he can see the faint outline of bare trees and dark shadows of undergrowth. There’s something off about it all, a sense of wrongness coming over him as he looks around. The area looks familiar and foreign at the same time and he didn’t even know something could do that.

Turning back the way he’d come from, Steve takes a single step before hissing in pain and crumpling to the ground. The rush of adrenaline that fueled his escape is gone now, leaving only a sharp sting down the bottom half of his right leg in its wake. Fingers shaking, Steve prods at the area, whimpering to himself a bit when it makes the pain worse. His fingers come back dark and wet.

Blood.

Whatever it is that grabbed him has also shredded the skin of his leg in the process. Perfect, great, fantastic, amazing.

Sob ripping free of its own volition, Steve falls back. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know a damn thing about dealing with fucking claw marks. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know how to reach help. He doesn’t know if that thing is coming back. He doesn’t know what to do.

Tears slide down from his eyes, down his face to his ears, but Steve doesn’t make any move to wipe them away. Instead he just lays there, staring up at the discomfortingly red sky above him. He’s never seen a red sky before. It would maybe be pretty to look at if he wasn’t spiraling and catastrophizing.

Lightning streaks across the dark clouds, and Steve startles at the sudden brightness of it. But it’s something. It’s enough to get him pushing himself back up, to wipe his eyes with dirty hands, to collect his thoughts again. His leg stings with each movement, but he knows he can’t stay on the ground. He has to go…somewhere. Anywhere but here. Except the part where Steve doesn’t know where he is.

The ground is wet under his palms as he drags himself towards on the twisted trees surrounding him. Reaching it, Steve reaches up to grab onto a branch, hoping and praying that it doesn’t crack under his weight, and uses it to pull himself up. The bark is dry and rough against his skin as he pulls, but the branch holds and Steve gets his feet under himself again.

Leaning heavily against the trunk as Steve tests how much weight he can put on his torn apart right leg. “Fuck!” he swears when the pain sears all the way up as soon as his foot touches the ground.

Another sob tears its way free as Steve leans on the dead tree for a moment, breathing heavily through his nose until the flash of pain fades away again. Once he can straighten up enough to look around again, Steve feels the need to sob again. He really has no idea where he’s at.

[kopykunoichi]

No thoughts in my head, just them.

Left column: chapters 47, 62, 98

Center column: chapters 137, 175, 175

Right column: chapters 201, 225, 225

[missmugiwara]

I'm writing a slow burn fanfic and it's at 8k words and they haven't even kissed yet WHAT IS WRONG WITGH ME

[alicentsaegon]

In light of Pride Month i just want to point out that SJM is such a bad writer and her rep is so poorly handled that people still think that Morrigan is bisexual

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Written for the 'cold' prompt

Where there should be a gun, only a butcher's knife waits for Akai.

Right.

They confiscated his weapons.

Oh well. Even declawed, he still has fangs. Just means he needs to get up close to get the kill.

Akai drops from his bed into a crouch. The knife's handle digs into his hand, unyielding, providing steady support in a hazy world.

He follows the edge of the bed, to where he can see light pass through the gap under the door. The sound of glass shattering, followed by a thud is what woke him, he's sure, but there's no footsteps, no shadow passing by. His intruder might be good.

But Akai knows he's better.

He sneaks up to the door, listening, waiting. There's faint breathing outside, too fast. Whoever it is, it's possible his attacker got caught up in the adrenaline rush. That should make it easier to surprise and dispatch them.

He takes cover behind the wall, and kicks the door open.

The living room lights blind him momentarily, too bright in the night. Akai blinks through the nausea, checks the windows he can see from his position - intact.

Good. He can still hear the breathing - irregular - but the sounds of the night remain distant, removed. He dashes to the other side of the door, surveilling the familiar living room outside.

As expected, all windows are shuttered, bolted shut from the inside. The intruder is trapped with him, then.

Ah, yes.

He's missed the hunt.

Though something seems off. He can't see them, but the source of noise doesn't appear to be moving. What are they waiting for? Data to download from his laptop? Poisoned gas to distribute in the room?

He can't smell anything strange, but beneath the scent of cigarette smoke and bourbon, it would be difficult to detect. He still puts a hand over his mouth, breathes as shallowly as he can manage.

Fine, fine. He'll go greet them already.

He sneaks around the too-comfortable sofa, takes cover behind his armchair, creeps up to the kitchen isle. Beyond its corner is the source of the noise, the source of another breath in his space.

He turns the corner, ready to dispatch the intruder-

-and barely manages to stop the knife in time. Stabs the ground next to an exposed neck.

There's a crumpled form on his floor in a sea of broken glass, blond hair covering their face.

Jodie?

No, that can't be.

Cold dread seizes his heart.

Jodie is dead.

His ears ring with the echo of a gunshot, drowning out all sounds but his own, stuttering heartbeat. It throbs in his head, too fast, too loud.

No. No. No.

Vertigo takes a hold of him, would have him join the figure on the floor.

The knife drops from his hands, clutters onto the floor uselessly. He grips the cupboard's corner, trying to maintain his balance. Doesn't quite manage it, and missteps.

A sharp pain in his foot forces him back to the present.

That's a problem for later.

Breathe. Assess.

The person in his kitchen groans, a rather common sound in Akai's presence.

Furuya.

He's alive.

But for how long?

Akai rushes to kneel by Furuya's side, doesn't care about the glass shards that pierce easily through his socks, his sweatpants, as he cradles the limp body in his kitchen.

He checks the head the head the head-

It's wet.

His heart beats double-time, blood rushes in his head. But there's no exit wound, and his fingers come away clear.

Akai lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Beneath his touch Furuya is burning up, though. As if he needed any further indication that something's very, very wrong. Furuya would never let himself be seen this sweaty, flushed, exposed, if he could help it.

"Furuya. Furuya-kun."

Another groan, and finally, there's some resistance in Akai's arms. Furuya winces, furrows his brows. He blinks up at Akai, eyes unfocused, but awake, at least.

Alive.

"Stop shouting already. I'm right here."

Furuya's voice comes out too nasally, his airways must be obstructed. Akai tilts his head a little, to put less strain on it. Let Furuya breathe more easily.

"Since when is the kitchen so tall?"

Not good. He's hallucinating. Or at least struggling with spatial awareness.

Akai manages to snatch Furuya's wrist in time, draws him close. He really doesn't need shards of glass stuck in his hands, in addition to whatever knocked him out.

Akai steadies him, lets him lean against himself. Isn't ready to let go of him, anytime soon.

He should assess the damage first, but he's curious.

"Furuya. What are you doing here?"

The agent frowns at him, seemingly confused. It takes him a moment to answer.

"You gave me the key?", he sneers. Curls in on himself protectively.

Except that's not what Akai is asking. Why is Furuya here, in the middle of the night, when-

"You're sick."

Maybe stating the obvious will get through to him, seeing as he seems to have trouble grasping the severity of his situation.

"So? It is Thursday. I promised."

He says it airily, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if it explains everything.

Yukiko-san had given Akai an earful for not taking care of himself properly, but even he knows to hole up and rest when he's sick. Not drive halfway across town on a paper-thin promise.

Surely, Furuya would have to understand that his own safety, his own health, comes first?

Right?

"I am fine. Get me to my car. I have inconvenienced you enough as it is."

Akai blinks. Furuya can barely move, and he wants to do what, exactly, in his car? Call for help? Suffer? Try to drive?

While he would like to assume this is a bout of temporary insanity brought on by the fever, if Akai looks back on their shared history, he isn't sure Furuya ever knew when to quit. Or what was good for him.

Damnit.

Alright.

"I'm driving you home."

He got to keep his car, at least, even if the gadgets were removed, his permits revoked. They'd told him to stick to travelling on foot, too, if he can. But for Furuya, he could make an exception.

"Who do I call to check up on you?"

At that, Furuya simply laughs at him.

Akai has never heard him do so, before.

It's not pretty.

Cold and hollow, the sound rings harshly in the night. Interrupted by coughs and sputters, Furuya's laughter is an ugly, broken thing, as far removed from joy as can be. It goes on for far too long.

This isn't funny.

Akai shivers. He'll be glad if he never has to hear that dreadful sound again.

"Just leave me be. I will survive, like always."

Up until that moment, Akai was pretty sure he'd lost it. But deep inside his chest, something stirs. A fragile little thing; it aches and splinters and breaks at the sight before him.

Furuya's bright smile is polished, his eyes like shining glass. It's too much.

Akai would be more inclined to believe him if Furuya wasn't shivering. If his nose wasn't running. If his eyes weren't red.

"No."

He might not know Furuya Rei. He barely knew Bourbon, and Amuro Tooru was actively out for his blood. He has no idea what happened to this man, to make him so furious at the world, yet so resigned to his fate. But the emotion that just shone through Furuya's carefully maintained image is all too familiar.

Survival isn't the prize it's made out to be. Not when-

Don't think about them. Someone needs to keep it together, and it won't be Furuya. You can do that, right? Not for yourself, but for him.

Yes.

A hypothesis forms, unbidden. The promise was just an excuse. Furuya came here because he had no other place to go to. No one to turn to.

That's fine. Akai understands. He doesn't have one either. Not anymore.

But he can give Furuya what he still has left: himself.

"I won't leave you alone."

He's the worst person for this; Akai barely knows how to take care of himself. The last time he looked after someone with a cold... he might still have been a teenager, taking care of Shukichi.

But it beats suffering alone, surely.

"Great. That means I have a chance to die of food poisoning."

There's a shimmer of life in Furuya's eyes, before he closes them. A faint smile, as he rests his head against Akai's chest. Broken, but a little more human than the Venetian mask he showed before.

Akai squeezes him, once, then picks him up without too much trouble. Shards of glass fall from their clothes, as he rises, holding Furuya close.

Alright.

First, he needs to clean up his guest.

Then, the flat.

Lastly, himself, if he has energy to spare.

And somewhere in-between, he'll need to call Yukiko-san. Maybe she will share the secret to her chicken noodle soup with him.

[queenbirbs]

Fleet: I had this idea…

Clara: Yes?

Fleet: I thought you might like to go to the theatre.

Clara: I’m sorry?

Fleet: The theatre. Today. Catch a matinee.

Clara: Archibald Fleet, are you inviting me to a social activity? Like a friend might?

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

cracks my fingers

for the asura ask game: 1, 3, 24 for non-evil Ruju

and 1, 8, 27 for Sylffa!

Just an asura ask game

Thanks so much for the ask!! Time to crack my OWN fingers because that's a whole lotta questions-- I offer you Rat Lore, Deluxe Edition(tm) below the cut for everyone's convenience.

1. Do they fit well into asuran society or are they more at home with other races? How do they feel about fellow asura? Is it because of their personality or something else? Is there any deal maker or breaker?

It's probably no surprise that Ruju's opinion of asuran society isn't particularly great. Between growing up among Inquest and struggling with a learning disability that made school much harder for him than his peers, the guy just never felt like he fit in anywhere. The highly individualistic dog-eat-dog culture really did NOT do him any favors. Even in his Dynamics timeline he still felt like an outlier, preferring hands-on work and often requiring detailed written instructions that he could refer to when his memory blanked.

It really wasn't until Ruju left it all behind to join the Vigil that he ever felt like he really belonged somewhere. He still keeps in contact with his old krewe as friends, but they all know he's never rejoining.

Likewise, his initial feelings about other asura are generally cautious at best. And at worst? He's been known to get pretty hostile even right at the start if someone puts him even a LITTLE on edge. Ruju's much more likely to give a fair chance to others who are like him, leaving it all behind to find somewhere they feel more at home. While he can learn to live with asura that are proud of their own personal accomplishments, those that cross the line into mocking other races and customs raise his hackles IMMEDIATELY. The guy has no patience whatsoever for the ideologies that allow the Inquest and others like them to flourish right there in Rata Sum. He also tends to assume the worst of anyone with past Inquest ties, even if they've long-since left the organization behind.

But really, any asura stubborn-- and perceptive-- enough to get past Ruju's prickly exterior will eventually find an extraordinarily loyal friend. He's tough to win over, but even tougher to shake.

So I know what you're (maybe) thinking; 'are there any races Ruju gets along with better, then?' Well, that's complicated. He didn't have a whole lot of contact with other races until he left Rata Sum, so most of his knowledge base was from asuran stereotypes of their cultures-- which, well, led to more than a few awkward and insensitive encounters. It took him a while to feel them out on their own terms and figure out what was true and what wasn't.

Unfortunately, this guy's mouth moves a fair bit faster than his brain most of the time. That probably says it all right there.

The only race he never warms up to is, ironically, the charr. He finds their heavily militaristic society and loyalty to the chain of command too stifling for the most part, despite initially relating to their ferocious fighting spirit. It's really only the outliers like Rox and the Olmakhan that he winds up liking by the end. By contrast, he comes to really appreciate both norn and sylvari-- and he'd probably like skritt a lot too if he was a bit more open-minded about them. But alas, Ruju is pretty sure that having more than one chaotic rat in a room together would lead to horrible no-good things, and he MORE than fills that quota.

3. What's their family like?

That one was answered over here!

24. Do they have any particular opinion on the Peacemakers and the Arcane Council (and Eye)? Do they have any direct experience with them?

HOO boy this is another meaty one. Ruju didn't really have experience with any of them until he moved out to Rata Sum, but none of his interactions were particularly positive. When he was young and naive he wanted to believe they were better than the Inquest... And then he realized that the moment there was any real danger-- or ESPECIALLY a direct conflict with the Inquest-- the Peacemakers were always conspicuously absent. As soon as he noticed that, all semblance of respect was out the window.

Ironically this menace actually WANTED them to do their jobs, at least in the situations where it actually mattered. (Like, say, when Teyo is wreaking havoc with hacked security golems.)

As a result, the Peacemakers got the brunt of his rebellion; Ruju found out pretty quickly that they didn't dare to rough him up because of his parents' notoriety, and he absolutely took advantage of that to be a pain. On top of that, magitech cuffs would almost always fall off from his air element shorting out their circuitry, creating a whole fiasco as they assumed he was slipping them on purpose. Sometimes this led into wild 'races' across the city when he'd get sick of squabbling with them, just casting superspeed and swiftness on himself and bolting... Straight to the cells. All that fuss JUST to turn himself in without being cuffed. Once they realized Ruju was messing with them and not actually trying to escape, they just stopped chasing and let him at it-- and put that note specifically on his file to try and warn any new recruits not to engage.

Not that every rookie necessarily READ that file, though...

Regardless, Ruju still spent enough time in a Peacemaker cell during his younger years that they practically had one reserved for him. But despite the many arrests, he never really considered them more than a nuisance-- and a method of getting back at his parents by being a total embarrassment in public and getting them to pay his bail.

The Arcane Eye on the other hand... Over time, Ruju's opinion shifted from vague annoyance, to disrespect, to outright disgust. In his Dynamics timeline, well. Let's put it like this. He had the option to either reveal the truth of Gorr's research on the Elder Dragons to everyone via transmission, or go violently beat an entire squad of Arcane Eye officers to death in their own hideaway. Guess which option won out. (How has this guy NOT gotten banished.)

Likewise, he can't stand the Council either, but just generally tries to avoid them and stay out of their jurisdiction. And after what he did to their finest spies, that avoidance is DEFINITELY mutual. He's threatened multiple seated members at this point and they don't particularly care to test whether he'll make good on that.

Ironically, Phlunt is one of the few he can actually tolerate. Meanwhile, lock him in a room with Flax or Haia for more than a few minutes and the Council might have a very freshly vacant seat to fill.

Now for Sylffa's questions!

1. Do they fit well into asuran society or are they more at home with other races?

8. Do/did they have a krewe?

You can find both of these ones too over here!

27. Have they been impacted by that whole Pact thing? What do they think of the First Pact Commander, Aurene and the whole Elder Dragon mess?

Sylffa was a member of the Priory when the Pact first started taking form, but limiting her knowledge and exploration to a single faction always bothered her to an extent. So, saying that she was curious about the prospect of expanding her horizons would be a MASSIVE understatement. As soon as those doors opened, she was practically on the first flight over. If something THAT big was in the works she absolutely wanted to be a part of it! Getting to work on the Pact airships was one of her proudest moments, immediately followed by getting to see the fleet she helped design soar into action.

While Sylffa might not have seen a lot of the action herself, she also made a point of assisting many of the outer camps with repairs-- along with working on defensive measures to keep dragon minions at bay. She was NOTORIOUS for seeing just how many laser cannons she could cram onto the walls before they'd have structural issues. Some would argue that she wasn't taking the situation NEARLY seriously enough, but the rest would respond that even if she was maybe a bit too excited about getting to see her heavy artillery designs at work, you couldn't really discount the results. In reality, burying herself in her work was just the easiest way to compartmentalize; focusing on getting results and then putting them into action made all the stress worthwhile.

The fall of Zhaitan wasn't the end for her, either. She stuck with the Pact all the way through to the end, occasionally sending inventions to Ruju to test out in the field. A few-- like a prototype position rewinder-- have stayed in his inventory to this day.

As for the Pact Commander and Aurene: that definitely depends on who it is! In any world where Ruju reaches that station, she definitely has a positive outlook on the two! They might not be as close as they were during college, but still very much qualify as friends. He shared quite a bit with her about his 'honorary progeny' during Aurene's younger years so she knows the dragon isn't quite as scary as she might seem. They've only ever met briefly though, with Aurene having assisted her group during a Branded outbreak on Dragonfall. Sylffa made a point of saluting her before she flew away.

In any other version of events, though, Sylffa would've been unlikely to know much of the Commander and Aurene-- aside from their role, that is. She would've considered an honor to meet them, though! And even MORE of an honor if they used any of her gadgets in the field.

If you were to ask her if she had any regrets now that the cycle is over, she'd claim she wishes she could've given Primordus a good whack herself for her ancestors' sake-- but really she's just glad it's over. In the wake of the dragons, Sylffa hopes she can put her focus into inventions that help people via means OTHER than blasting dragon minions to bits. She's made enough laser cannons, it's about time to try something new for a change! How she'll apply her expertise in the future remains to be seen, though.

[ghostaholics]

i doubt ghost gets in a serious relationship bc he’s probs pretty closed off bc his family was brutally murdered but the man fs sluts himself out occasionally

honestly you’re so real for leaving this in my inbox

[warningstandbygo]

I watched Campaign 2, Episode 97 for the first time today and holy Wildmother, I knew the broadest of broad strokes of what the two (2) big things that happened in this episode were but absolutely no context or specifics or anything and then I watched it and I have been absolutely feral ever since.

Like I was in my kitchen in the middle of washing dishes and Fix You came on my music randomly and I almost started crying save me from myself.

Anyway Liam O'Brien just out here assassinating my feelings as per usual nothing to see here

[aelaer]

Do you happen to know of any good fics about Donna's death as told in the MCU? Thanks!

I'm sorry I didn't get to this sooner. I wanted to find a fic to actually recommend you, but the truth is that I have done very little reading after MoM and I cannot think of any fics that weren't flashbacks or different from the MCU because they were written pre-MoM. So I'm sadly throwing in the towel on this one.

Those following me, feel free to take this ask yourself if you have some recs.

[primordialchoice]

If Lilith is in love with you, you will know it. Her disposition is generally fickle, but for you, she will stay committed to anything and everything that would make your life easier. She becomes receptive, generous and mature. It's a staggering shift in her personality that makes her feelings incredibly obvious to a third party.

It's important she sees herself as your equal before she can commit to anything though. It's dangerous for her to be on uneven planes because she is extremely generous and fears accidentally becoming subservient to her beloved one.

[transgenderastarion]

Everyone give up on trying to get the most hours in baldur's gate 3 right now. Im claiming my crown. I'm planning 3 different runs on a program that runs at 5 frames per second

[atricksterproblem]

How the hell am I supposed to write anything when 90 percent of what I want to write falls under She Would Not Fucking Say That and She Would Not Fucking Do That.

Back to the drawing board. Again.