#but also kinda the underlying plot of the fic

[badassindistress]

Edwin Payne enjoys a good mentally stimulating puzzle. Always has. And his afterlife has quite pleasantly been full of them. Supernatural mysteries abound and the Dead Boy Detectives are here to lay them to rest. Only their usual cases aren't quite this... peculiar.

"It is not for me to know the motives of my superiors," the Night Nurse insists for the third time, eyes closed in frustration. She doesn't grasp the reasons for this new assignment either. How exactly are they meant to banish the spectre of "internalised homophobia"?

Or; The Finality once known as Niko Sasaki has been made aware of two dead boys who have saved her before, and she'll make damn sure they'll save her again, saving themselves in the process. All this paperwork does not spark joy, she'd like to get back to reading about boys kissing, thank you very much.

Read Rules are Rules here!

[sceletaflores]

all's fair in love and viscera...

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader wc: 6.7k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, violence, blood, gore (more so thoughts of gore) nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, fighting as foreplay, bleeding as foreplay, written with X2 logan in mind, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), finger sucking hehehe, light choking, hair pulling, blood play, biting is just another form of sexual penetration guys, scent kink, pain kink, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: i have a rotting note that says "logan spar fic turned face sitting" so that's what this is but it kinda got a little weird lol i also just wanted an excuse to write more about the mutant ability that's been bopping around in my brain since watching season four of the boys. kisses!

logan wants to spar...

You can smell him before he even opens the door to the training room.

It’s funny, because almost all blood smells the exact same. It melds into one coppery, metallic tang that stings your nose everywhere you go.

Mutant blood is only slightly different, something sharper with a tartness that lingers in the air longer, that tingles along the edge of your senses and burns the back of your throat.

Logan's blood is something entirely different.

The first time you met him it almost brought you to your knees. It was so overwhelming, the smell swarming you so intoxicating and all encompassing that it made you feel dizzy.

Logan’s blood is a wild mix of earthy musk and something like charred wood. His scent carries an electric charge, like the smell of air right before a thunderstorm, like ozone after a lightning strike.

It's like nothing you've ever encountered before—hot and acidic, with a barely there underlying sweetness that never fails to turn your insides to liquid. It seems to defy normalcy, bending the rules of what you know about blood and biology.

You know in the back of your mind that it's the adamantium. It's been fused to his skeleton for so long, it must be something chemical. A reaction happening in his body that makes it so distinctly different.

Part of you likes to think that it's just Logan, that the scent is a reflection of everything he is. The raw, untamed essence of his nature, something primal that’s deeply ingrained in his being.

The door creaks open behind you, you make it a point to keep your focus on the punching bag. You've been here for hours, your arms only finally starting to burn with exertion. The bag feels solid and grounding under your taped knuckles, swinging lightly with every hit.

Logan's heavy footsteps get closer and closer, echoing through the empty room until he's striding past you to lean against the wall next to the bag's rig.

You don't look at him, but you can feel his gaze—an intense, almost palpable thing.

“Figured you’d be down here,” Logan's voice is the familiar rough and gravelly rumble you've become used to, cutting through the silence between the two of you with a barely there teasing edge. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Logan has an even better sense of smell than you do, and he can sniff out a lot more than blood. You're sure he knew you were here this whole time, that he could smell you from his room two stories up.

You give a small, noncommittal grunt, ignoring him as you throw another punch. Sweat is dotted across your hairline, it drips down the small of your back and the column of your throat. It's not that you don't like Logan, that you don’t want him here, you have the complete opposite of that problem.

You like Logan too much, more than you should.

Every time he’s near, you’re intensely aware of how much his presence affects you, of the way all the blood in your body starts to sizzle under your skin with a throbbing need that's getting harder and harder to ignore. It’s like a constant, low-grade fever that only flares up when he gets too close. 

“Come on, kid. You can’t ignore me all night,” he says, thick arms crossing over his chest. "Don't make me beg."

You let out a breath, more exasperated than anything else, and finally turn to face him. Logan’s standing there, all broad shoulders and rugged confidence in his white tank and gray sweats, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smirk—it's almost as dangerous as the claws hidden just underneath his skin.

“Didn’t know you were the begging type.” Your attempt to sound casual is overpowered by the slight breathy edge of your voice. You blame it on the workout.

Logan's smirk widens just a fraction, and you can tell he's caught the hitch in your voice. His eyes, sharp and knowing, narrow in on you with that familiar mix of amusement and something you can't quite place, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Only when I really want something," he replies easily.

Your form falters, just barely, but it’s enough for Logan to notice. You can hear the amused huff he lets out.

You throw another punch at the bag, more to steady yourself than anything else. The impact reverberates through your knuckles, but it doesn't do much to dispel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Back to ignoring me?" he asks, needling. You can see the raise of his brow in your peripheral vision.

“Trying to,” you mutter under your breath, though it's more to yourself than to him. You keep your gaze locked firmly on the bag, willing your pulse to steady.

"What's that?" he leans in closer, his scent wafting over to you as he does. Somehow stronger than before, an assault on your senses. You barely conceal a shiver.

"It’s not my fault you’re here when I'm at my least chatty," you retort blandly, a little louder, willing your voice to sound as steady as it can.

"Looks to me like you’re always at your least chatty,” he shoots back, not showing any signs of backing down.

"It's late,” you reply tersely.

"Yeah," he says. "It is late."

The words hang in the air, laced with a double meaning that neither of you acknowledges.

"Too late to be up hounding the bags like they owe you money," he adds, the tone of his voice almost gentle in a way that catches you off guard. Nothing like the Logan you're used to.

“Yeah, well,” you grunt, throwing a particularly sharp jab. “Some of us don’t need all the beauty sleep."

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, you can feel the vibration of it in your bones. "Funny," he muses to himself, voice going quiet like he's turning your words over in his mind. "I can see why Charles keeps you around."

You huff, sweaty brows knitting together in frustration. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

“Babysit?” He smirks, clearly amused. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Your resolve finally cracks, your fists sore when you drop them to your sides and turn to Logan with a questioning look on your face.

"What do you want, Logan?”

It sounds harsher than you meant it, rough and exasperated as you start to catch your breath for the first time since he walked in.

Logan doesn't respond, just pushes off the wall to step closer. His scent hits you like a truck now that your focus is solely on him, you can feel your blood start to thrum under your veins. The sweat dripping down your back feels like it’s igniting the tension in your body, and Logan’s only making it worse the closer he gets.

He stops a little less than a foot away from you. It’s too close, he evades your space until all you can see is him. The width of his shoulders, the strong muscle of his chest and torso filling your view.

Logan doesn't say anything for a few beats, just stares down at you with a studying look on his face. It's a struggle to keep still under the intensity of his gaze. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the rhythmic thud loud in your ears as the silence stretches between you.

He tilts his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing as he trails them over your sweaty face. You're seconds away from saying something, from turning and running with your tail between your legs, when he beats you to it.

He lets out an amused scoff, shaking his head as he walks past you to the large blue training mat in the middle of the room.

"C'mon," he calls over his shoulder, "Try hitting something that hits back, might help clear your head."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but Logan’s already made his way to the center of the mat, turning to face you with a challenging glint in his eye.

You shake your head slowly, not moving from your place across the room. "I don't want to fight you."

Logan chuckles wryly, “Could’ve fooled me, sweetheart.”

The nickname sends a jolt through you, your pulse skipping in response. It’s always the way he says it—rough around the edges but with a softness that’s almost affectionate. You clench your fists tight, as if the simple act of it will keep your thoughts in check.

"Think you can keep up?" he teases, rolling his shoulders in that casual, self-assured way of his. But there's something in his tone, a challenge that makes you want to prove yourself.

You cast your eyes to the ceiling, exasperated, a bemused laugh bubbling from your chest as you do. "You know I can," you reply, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. "This isn't about that."

You should just say no. You should say no and go back up to your room so you can go to bed and forget all about this in the morning. You can barely stand to be in the same room with Logan for more than thirty minutes at a time, training with him is too much of a risk.

"What's it about then? You scared?" Logan's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, a playful smirk curling his lips. He raises an eyebrow, daring you to join him.

That does it. A spark of defiance flares in your chest, overriding the nervous tension that’s been building since he walked in. You’re not one to back down from a fight, especially when Logan's practically begging for one.

Without thinking, you stride over to the mat.

Logan watches you approach, his stance relaxed but ready, like a predator sizing up its prey. You try your best to ignore the smug look on his face as you kick off your shoes and join him.

"Not scared," you shrug, running your fingers over the tape on your knuckles. "I just don't need you getting all pissy when I win." You roll your shoulders, shake out your arms, and square up, focusing on the way Logan’s eyes are locked on yours.

Logan's grin widens, a flash of sharp teeth that makes your pulse quicken. "We'll see about that."

You drop into a ready stance, the tension in your muscles coiled tight like a spring. For a moment, neither of you moves, just sizing each other up. The silence between you stretches taut like a bowstring. Your eyes lock onto Logan's, each of you reading the other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The air between you feels like it's vibrating, charged with a mix of tension, anticipation, and something else—something unspoken, simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, in a blur of motion, Logan makes the first move, just like you expected him to. He lunges, fast and strong, but you're ready for him, sidestepping the blow and bringing your forearm up to deflect his fist away from your body.

"Slow start, old man?" you quip, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you regain your footing. "Speed isn't what it used to be?"

Logan chuckles, a low and throaty sound. "Just warming up, sweetheart. Don't want you crying unfair when I take you down too quick."

You scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically before launching your own attack. You swing a swift roundhouse kick aimed at his midsection. He anticipates the move, catching your ankle with one hand while his other reaches out to grab your wrist.

But you're quicker. Using the momentum, you twist your body and slip free from his grasp, landing lightly back on your feet a few steps away. The brief contact sends a jolt up your leg, his touch searing even through the thick layer of your sweats.

"Stop holding back," you say roughly, your lips turned down in a displeased frown. "Hit me."

Logan's eyes flash with amusement. "Careful what you wish for."

He advances again, this time more aggressive. He throws a combination of punches—left, right, left—each one precise and controlled. You block the first two, but the third grazes past your defenses, skimming your rib cage hard enough to sting.

You hiss softly at the impact but don't back down. Instead, you duck low and sweep your leg out in a wide arc, aiming to knock him off balance. Logan slides back just in time, your foot swiping through empty air as he evades the attack with a kind of brute grace that you wouldn’t expect.

"Getting fancy now?" he remarks, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face.

You don't respond, springing to your feet with a raised fist in a swift uppercut. This time you connect, your knuckles catching his stubbled jaw with a loud 'crack'. Your whole hand throbs, you can feel the break in your thumb snap back together in a sharp pinch.

Logan stumbles back a step, his head snapping to the ceiling with the force of your hit. When he turns back to you, there's a large bruise blooming along the sharp cut of his jaw. You watch the color of it spread across his skin, angry reds and dull purples that fade as fast as they appear.

There's a glint of something dangerous in his eyes as he meets your gaze. The brown of them darker than before, his pupils blown out and glossy in a way you've never seen.

With a low growl, he comes at you again, faster this time. His movements a blur of muscle and intent. You manage to block the first hit, but not the second, his fist catches your side with enough power to make you stumble back a few steps. Pain flares white hot through your ribs, but you grit your teeth and bear it.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the fight. The world narrows down to the two of you, the sound of your breaths and the feel of his skin brushing against yours in fleeting moments of contact.

There's a thrill in it, in the way you challenge each other, in the way you push past your own boundaries.

But there's also something more, something deeper. Every time your eyes lock, you can feel the electricity between you, the way your heart skips a beat, the way your breath catches in your throat. It's not just about the fight anymore. 

You feel more alive than you have in a long time. More alive with every sting of each new blow, with the way your muscles burn, with the stray hairs that stick to your forehead.

The heat between you is almost tangible, mixing with the sweat and exertion. Every punch, every block, sends a jolt of adrenaline through your system, making it both exhilarating and maddening.

The scent of him—earthy, electric, and utterly intoxicating—growing stronger with every second. Your senses are on high alert, every part of you tuned in to his presence.

It wraps around your whole being, making it hard to think straight. But you don’t need to think—you just move, letting your instincts take over.

Logan feints to the left and uses it to sweep your legs out from under you in the same move he mocked you for. Your back hits the floor with a hard thud, the give of the mat not doing much to soften the hardwood underneath.

All the breath in your lungs rushes out of you in a sharp gasp. Before you can recover, Logan is looming over you. He cages your body under his own, thick arms on either side of your head, his weight pressing you further into the floor. His breath is hot against your ear as he leans in close, his voice a low, almost growling murmur.

"Gotcha."

You try to come up with a witty comment, a snarky line, a petty insult. Anything at all really—but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you just stare up at him, your chest heaving violently, your heart pounding so loud you're sure he can hear it.

The whole room feels like it’s spinning, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the intensity in Logan’s eyes, the heat of him against you.

Suddenly, your entire body feels like it's on fire. Phantom flames lapping at every inch of your skin that send your head reeling quicker than you can blink. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but you've only ever felt it outside of a mission once, and it didn't end well.

For a few heart stopping seconds, you're more than confused. Panic starts to set in at the thought of having another "accident" and not even knowing what's triggering it.

Through the messy haze of your panic, you finally see it. The tiny cut above Logan's brow leaking a thin trail of red down the side of his face.

Everything around you dissolves into static, your eyes zeroing in on that single bead of crimson. The cut's long gone by the time it drips from his jaw to the mat right next to your shoulder. Logan's skin stitching back together and leaving no trace that it was ever broken in the first place, but it doesn't matter.

The damage is already done, and you can feel your body start to react.

You can feel your resolve crumbling, the edges of your self-control fraying with every passing second. Your own blood pulses beneath your skin like liquid fire as your stomach churns and twists. The intense need to feel, to taste, to take claws at your throat.

You let out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, as you lose the last of your control.

Hank had called it a frenzy, but that wasn't a technical term.

"You're not in your right mind. You've essentially been conditioned to react strongly to the scent and sight of blood, particularly when you're already in a heightened emotional or physical state. The combination of adrenaline, exertion, and the scent triggers this...well, this 'frenzy' for lack of a better term."

It's like you blackout, and when you wake up, you're straddling Logan's chest with your hand wrapped around his throat in a vice-like grip. The tan column of his throat glowing red beneath your hand, a map of blue veins inked along his skin like spiderwebs as you watch the blood pulse through them.

Your grip tightens instinctively, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to reign in the storm swirling inside you. Everything narrows down to the pounding in your ears, the blazing heat of Logan's skin under your fingers, and the urge to let go, to give in.

Logan's voice starts to trickle in around the static buzzing in your ears, your name falling from his lips sounds strained, but there's a calmness to it. The fog of your instincts begins to fade, the world around you slowly starting to piece back together.

You blink, the haze in your mind clearing as you try to focus on his face, the way his eyes are locked onto yours. Intense, but not clouded with fear like you expected.

Your chest heaves with every breath, ragged and short like they're being ripped out of your lungs. Your wide eyes dropping to where your hand is still locked around his throat, panic surges in your chest like ice freezing over a lake.

But before you can do anything, Logan's reaching up, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grip. His thumb brushes over your pulse point—the touch sends a jolt through you, as if he’s touched a live wire.

“Don't,” he says, like he knows what you're thinking, his voice a rough whisper. The rasp of it vibrates against your hand. “Don't stop now."

Logan’s other hand comes up to rest on your hips, his touch firm but not forceful. He doesn’t try to wrestle control away from you; instead, he holds you steady. His fingers dig into your skin, grounding you.

“Come on,” he coaxes, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sends a shiver of anticipation through you. “I can take it. Give it to me.”

The world around you blurs, your focus entirely on the man beneath you, the way his body feels under your hands, the way he’s willingly surrendering to your control.

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. You search his eyes, dark and full of want. There's a heat there, a spark that crackles between you, and it only adds fuel to your fire.

If he wants to push, you're ready to push back.

Silently, you slide your hand up the expanse of his throat, feeling the way his pulse beats strong and fast under your palm. The glow under his skin dissipates as you make your way up, tracing your fingers over his jaw and up to his bottom lip.

Logan’s breathing is rapid, his chest rising and falling under you quicker than before. His lips are slick and red, parted so enticingly that you can help but slide your index finger over them. Your nail digs into the fat of his bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let him feel it.

Logan lets you toy with him, meets your gaze head on as you push further. Your finger presses deeper, pushing past the seam of his lips to feel the warmth of his mouth, the wet glide of his tongue against your skin.

The sharp bite of Logan's teeth pinches your skin as he closes his lips around your finger and sucks.

Your breath catches in your throat, heat blooming in your core as his tongue brushes over the pad of your finger. You can feel the ache of your cunt between your legs, arousal leaking wet and sticky in your panties.

Your other hand rises up to rest on the side of his face, your fingers grazing over his cheekbone. The touch feather-light but filled with a fierce, unspoken energy. Logan’s breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening even further.

Your palm splays over the skin of his cheek, the heat of his face seeping into your hand. Logan’s eyes close for a moment, his breath coming in shallow bursts as he tilts his head into your touch.

In a quick move, you dig your fingernails into the fat of his cheek roughly. Logan’s body arches under you, his back snapping off the mat with guttural groan ripping from his chest as you pierce his skin.

You gasp at the scent of him wafting up through the air, at the feeling of his teeth digging into your own flesh. His blood leaking onto the tips of your fingers feels like a shock to your system, both electrifying and terrifying.

His skin glows even brighter than before. A mix of reds and oranges that light up just beneath his skin, the blue of his veins like rivers on a map. Your nails dig deeper into his skin, drawing more blood, the warm, sticky liquid coating your fingers. You watch, mesmerized, as the glow under his skin pulses in response, as if feeding off your energy, amplifying the connection between you.

Logan’s breath hitches, his body tensing beneath yours, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into your touch, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

it takes barely any energy from you. The faintest traces of your power used for something none of those demented scientists in white lab coats intended.

None of that matters. All that matters is the raw, animalistic connection between you—the way his body is responding to your touch, the way his eyes shine with want, the way his blood sings in harmony with yours.

You could boil Logan alive in less than a second, burst every vessel and capillary in his body until he's nothing more than a copper stain on the floor. But his hands only tighten their grip on your waist to drag you impossibly closer.

"More," Logan growls, his voice vibrating against your palm as his teeth sink a little deeper into your finger, the heat of his breath searing against your skin. He hooks his hands under your thighs, dragging your body up his chest until your legs are spread on either side of his head. 

Your hands fly to his hair, steadying yourself with two fist fulls of the brown tufts that sit atop his head. You’ve always been curious if Logan styles his hair this way on purpose, or if it just grows like that naturally. You don't have time to ponder it for long before he's letting out another ragged groan and burying his face between your thighs.

You can feel the heat of his breath over the clothed expanse of your cunt, his nose trailing along the inseam of your sweats as he inhales greedy lungfuls of your scent.

"Logan," you gasp, voice gone high and breathy around the edges.

"Tell me what you want," he says lowly, his lips brushing over you with every word.

It's muffled slightly, but the demand in his tone still sends a shock through you. Your grip on his hair tightens as your mind falls into a whirl of sensations and emotions you couldn't possibly confront.

He presses a heated kiss against the fabric of your sweats, right over where your aching clit pulses with need. The sensation sends an electric jolt straight through your core. Your whole body hums with an intense craving, a need that burns hot and fierce.

"Tell me," he repeats, his voice a rough rasp that vibrates against your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as you try to form a coherent thought, let alone speak.

"I want..." you start, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and desire. The words are there, lodged in your throat, but saying them out loud feels like crossing a line you’re not sure you’re ready to cross.

"I need you,” you breathe out, the confession slipping from your lips like a secret finally set free “I need everything.”

Logan’s eyes flare with something fierce and wild. Without a word, he pulls you closer, his hands surging up to tear through the fabric of your clothes like it's nothing but tissue paper. The tattered remains of your panties and sweats pool to the floor in a crumpled mess.

The heat of his breath is replaced by the pressure of his mouth, his tongue sliding through the wet slit of your cunt. He lets out a filthy groan at the first real taste of you, the flat of his tongue lapping eagerly through your dripping slit.

The thrill of his mouth against your most sensitive spots sends a jolt through your entire body, your back arching taut as you grip his hair even tighter. Logan’s groan reverberates through you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your core.

Logan is relentless, devouring you like he’s been starving for this, starving for you. The wet sounds of his mouth working you over mix with your breathless whimpers and the low growls rumbling from his chest. He works his tongue expertly, tracing every inch of you, mapping out every spot that makes you tremble and moan.

Your thighs tighten around his head, hips grinding against his face almost unintentionally as heat starts coiling tight in your belly. The scruff of his jaw rubs against the sensitive skin of your thighs with each drag of his head, the sting of it just adds to the assault of pleasure. You wish he could leave his mark on you, wish that your skin wouldn’t work overtime to fix the angry red blotches of raw skin he leaves in his wake.

Logan grips you hard enough that you can see the bruises decorating your skin every time you look down. His arms firm and strong where they’re locked around your thighs to keep you pressed against his mouth. His nose bumps against your throbbing clit each time he fucks his tongue into your leaking cunt.

“Logan,” you moan, your voice a breathy plea that only seems to spur him on. He flicks his tongue over your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a harsh pull that makes you cry out, your whole body shuddering with the intensity of it.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs against you, the words muffled by the slickness of your folds. “Could eat you all night.”

“Logan, I’m—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as he sucks hard on your clit, sending you careening over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your entire body convulsing with the force of it as you cry out his name, your nails digging into his scalp as you hold on.

Logan doesn’t stop, doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. He licks you through your release, his mouth working you over with a single-minded intensity that has you writhing against him, overstimulated and desperate for more.

“Fuck, Logan, please,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re begging for, just knowing you need something, anything to ease the ache that’s still throbbing deep inside you.

Logan pulls back just enough to look up at you, the bottom of his face slick with your arousal, eyes dark with a hunger that matches your own. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you.

Logan’s hands slide up your thighs, his touch gentle now but still impossibly firm. He trails his fingers along your skin, tracing the sensitive lines where your skin starts to heal the damage he left behind.

“Still with me?” he asks, his voice is softer than before but there’s still an unmistakable rough edge coating his words.

You nod, your voice barely a whisper as you try to collect yourself. “Yeah...I’m here.”

“Good,” he growls softly, his hands squeezing the sore skin of your hips. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You’re on your back in less than a second, Logan flipping your positions so fast it has your head spinning. His mouth crashes against yours, hot and desperate, all sharp teeth and bruising pressure. 

It’s a kiss that feels like a fight, like a challenge, like a promise of something much darker and more consuming just beneath the surface. His stubble scrapes against your skin, adding to the raw, visceral feeling of it all. Your teeth clack together violently, you can taste the faint coppery tang of blood on his lips. 

You kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring all the pent-up frustration, all the desire, all the fear and anger and need into the contact between you. Your hands are everywhere, clawing at his hair, his shoulders, his back—needing to feel him, to mark him, to claim him as yours in a way that’s as undeniable as the blood pulsing through your veins.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him to fill the ache that’s building inside you. Logan grinds against you, his hard cock still trapped in the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your spit soaked cunt. You can’t help the desperate whimper that escapes your throat. “Please, Logan,” you gasp out against his lips, your voice trembling with need. “Fuck me, I need it, please–.” 

He growls low in his throat, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin. 

You nod frantically, your hips bucking up against him darkens the fabric tent of his bottoms. He feels huge, heavy and hot where he pushes against your slick folds. “Yes, please, just—” Logan doesn’t let you finish. 

With a swift, almost feral move, he pushes the hem of his sweats down roughly, the sound of seams ripping rings through the room. You barely have time to gasp before he’s pushing his cock into you, stretching you wide, filling you so completely that all you can do is cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he immediately sets a relentless pace. 

You don’t have any time to adjust to the thick length of his cock carving its way inside of you, the sting of it has your eyes screwed shut. It’s only barely straddling the knife's edge of where pain and pleasure meld together, but it has you crying out his name all the same. 

Logan fucking sounds identical to Logan fighting, guttural groans and growls that are ripped from somewhere deep in his chest to pierce through the air between you. That ring in your ears and shake through your very soul like thunder. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grates, his voice thick with lust as he holds himself still for a moment, eyes glued to where you’re stretched around him. The puffy, abused lips of your cunt slick with his spit and the pre-come steadily leaking from his dark red tip. “Feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

You moan, high and loud in the back of your throat as your ankles lock around his lower back. Your heels dig into the skin just above his ass as your cunt trembles around his cock, your spongy walls working over him desperately, milking him. 

“You like that don’t you?” Logan taunts, starting to snap his hips with purpose. “You like getting fucked like this, princess?” He leans down enough to growl directly into your ear, “I can smell how much you want it, how bad you're aching for it." 

He slides his hands up your sides, rough palms gliding over your sweat-slick skin as he continues, "You drive me fucking crazy, sweetheart. I can barely think straight with you on top of me, with your scent all over me. You know what you're doing, don’t you? Getting me all riled up like this."

You can’t respond, can’t speak. You can barely form a coherent thought, your lips falling open in a stream of desperate moans and whines as you bury your face in his neck.

The pulse of his carotid artery under your lips is maddening, each beat of his heart like a drum driving you further into madness. You want to sink your teeth into the skin there, to pull flesh and muscle from bone so you can watch the blood run in rivers and streams down Logan’s body.

The taste of him fresh and heady on your tongue as you watch the layers build back up from nothing, nerves and veins weaving themselves back together grotesquely.

“Fuck,” Logan groans, the sound vibrating through your mouth as you press your lips against his throat, your teeth scraping against his skin with barely restrained hunger.

You nip at his throat, your teeth leaving small indentations that fade almost as quickly as they appear. Logan’s breathing is ragged, his chest heaving with every shallow breath as he leans into your touch, his body taut with anticipation.

"Atta girl, that's it," he growls, voice thick with desire as his hands grip your hips even tighter, nails digging into your skin as he ruts into you like a beast. His hips snapping against yours hard enough to sting, the loud slap of it bouncing off the walls to echo lewdly in your ears.

He’s fucking you like he wants to break you, reinforced hips heavy as he pounds you into the floor mercilessly. “Taking my cock so well, best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You can feel the way Logan’s cock jerks and pulses inside of you, the taut heaviness of his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You know he’s close, the brutal rhythm of his hips gets sloppier by the second.

You press your body up against his, your chest flush with his own as your hands wander over the hard planes of his back, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his skin. You dig your nails into his shoulder blades roughly, basking in the way his muscles roll and flex underneath your greedy palms.

You can feel the heat radiating from him, the pulsing glow of his blood under your fingertips as you explore every inch of him with a hunger that’s almost feral. 

And then, with a low, guttural sound that you barely recognize as your own, you sink your teeth into his neck.

Logan’s reaction is immediate and visceral. His entire body tenses above you, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as you bite down, hard enough to draw blood. The taste of him floods your mouth, metallic and rich, and it sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

You can feel his blood on your tongue, warm and thick, the taste of it driving you wild. It’s everything you’ve been craving, everything you’ve been trying to resist. And now that you’ve finally given in, it’s like a dam has broken inside you.

Logan’s growl is pure animal, his hips bucking up hard as he thrusts into you one last time, burying his cock as deep in you as he can. The force of his orgasm rips through him, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he unloads inside of you. It’s so much, pulse after pulse of hot come that floods your insides. His hips don’t slow, still pumping and fucking like he’s trying to stuff you as full of himself as he can.

The feeling of it pushes you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in a wave of white-hot pleasure that leaves you gasping and trembling above him. Your shaking cunt gushes over his cock as you swallow the blood pooling on your tongue.

Logan’s hips finally still, slotting flush with yours as he slumps onto the floor next to you, dragging you along with him so you can lay flat on his chest. The coarse hair scattered along his pecs scratches the skin of your cheek, you bury your face in the sweaty crook of his neck. You feel hazy, like you’re floating through the air, completely weightless. 

You think you could live here, plastered to the strong planes of Logan’s body, stuffed full of his cock and leaking his come in messy trails down your shaking thighs. 

But eventually, you have to pull back, your breath coming in short bursts as you lick the blood from your lips. Logan’s eyes are on you, shining under the chandelier light, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. The wound on his neck is already healing, the skin knitting itself back together, but the blood still stains his skin red, a vivid reminder.

There’s a moment of silence, the air between you thick with tension and something else—something new and unspoken. You’re both panting, bodies still trembling with adrenaline.

Logan’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips, smearing the remnants of his blood across your skin. His eyes are locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

Finally, he reaches down slowly, like you’re a cornered animal that might turn and run any second. He takes your wrist in his hand, dragging it from the middle of his chest to the muscle directly over his heart. He presses your palm flat against him, blanketing your hand with his own.

“What do you feel,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath.

The question catches you off guard. It’s a challenge, but it’s also an invitation—a chance to confront whatever’s swirling inside you instead of running away from it. You hesitate, searching for the right words to encapsulate the storm of emotions you feel thrumming through your bones.

"You," you whisper back, your palm sliding over the sweaty plain of his bare chest. "All I feel is you."

Logan’s eyes soften, and a rare, genuine smile tugs at the corners of his lips. The intensity of the moment seems to dissolve, leaving a quiet understanding between you. He leans in, his breath warm against your cheek, and you can feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a tender caress against your ear. His thumb brushes along your pulse in a feather light touch. “That makes two of us.”

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[seventeenpins]

violet pairing: older qz!joel x f!reader

word count: 5.8k

summary: follow-up to forget-me-not. it's been seven years since you last saw joel in the boston qz, and a lot has changed. you find yourselves reunited in jackson.

warnings: smut, actually contains a lot of plot (sorry), tommy, maria & ellie all exist, allusions to/discussion of abortion, reader has a kid, joel is insecure about being an old man (you're only 63, it's ok buddy), reader is mid-thirties to early 40s, lil bit of daddy kink, face sitting, multiple orgasms.

a/n: okay first -- header or no header? like, it's a bit ridiculous but i also kinda love it? instead of packing up for a move, i've been writing this 🤷 thanks for all the continued love on my fics, it's so sweet and means a whole lot. working on a few other stories, and i hope to have more out soon!

this chapter is dedicated to the dumbass at the club who didn't quite manage to ruin a first date i was on by asking us what we thought about gay rights (as two fem-perceived folks caught smoochin) and then telling us "you're clearly so in love, i respect that" before yeeting off in the moonlight.

you could have sworn the terrain had been totally empty only moments before, but now in the blink of an eye, you’re surrounded by a small group of riders, armed, their horses huffing down at you. 

“shit,” you gasp, trying to shield your girl, but realising there was little use. can’t put your body in front of hers when there’s people on every side of you. instead, your hands grip tighter on the shoulders of your daughter and you take a breath, trying to steady your breathing.

“you been near infected?” a man calls down at you, and his accent reminds you of joel, so much so that your heart flutters for a moment at the memory. you’ve met lots of people on your travels, a few of them from austin, too, and every time you think of him.

“no,” you call back, “last we saw them was back in the dakotas and there weren’t many there. that was weeks ago, haven’t encountered any since.”

the man nods, and you’re not sure what he’s thinking under his stetson, but the fact you’re not shot yet seems like a good sign. hopefully.

"frankly, we've had much more trouble from people than from infected on our way. but we've been able to take care of ourselves," you say, and you're hoping your words have an underlying edge of danger, but you're pretty sure you just come off as scared and defensive.

the man nods, and looks you up and down. “well, we've gotta make sure,” he says, almost apologetic, and you tense. it takes a moment before you see the dog, but then a dark blur comes bounding towards you, snarling. You tense and pull your girl close, but after a few moments of incredibly stressful sniffing, the dog leaves you alone and trods back to his owner, panting happily.

“good,” the man says, “now we've got that cleared up, what’s your business here?”

it's a good fuckin question, but not one you have a direct answer to.

"we came from boston," you tell him, "it was okay for a while, but the qz changed--got worse. more bombings. more hangings. if it was just me i might have stayed put, but i have my daughter."

there's so much you could say, but you're pretty sure you're advocating for your own life right now, so you keep it short and simple.

"we're just trying to find... somewhere better. travelling through all the places i've ever known people, to see if there's somewhere safe out there at all."

he nods, and the group surrounding you seems to back down a little.

"come with us. i think we might have what you're looking for," he tells you, and then one rider jumps down from their horse, mounts another, and the first man helps you and your daughter onto the vacated horse.

you follow the group, cantering along, and the man keeps an eye on you, and a woman in the group rides up next to you.

"so, you're from the boston qz? that's quite a journey," the man says, and nods his head towards the young woman, "she and i both travelled here from boston, years ago. i left back in, oof, '13? remind me, when did you leave?"

the woman nods, "left when i was fourteen, in '23."

"oh wow," you say, "i honestly didn't expect to meet anyone from boston round here"

there's a pause.

"what did you say your name was?" he asks, and you tell him.

"and this is violet," you say, giving your daughter's shoulder a squeeze, and she nestles back into your chest, ever shy around strangers.

"nice to meet you both," the woman grins, "i'm ellie"

"and i'm tommy," the man says. you're sure it's just a weird coincidence, a common name, just cos he happens to share the same name as joel's brother it doesn't mean anything, but you can't help but ask-

"this is probably silly, but you're not tommy miller are you?"

both tommy and ellie halt, so you do to, as they communicate something through quick glances and furrowed brows.

"wait," you say, "are you? tommy miller?"

he stares you down, and all of a sudden, you see it in his eyes. joel's eyes. violet's eyes.

"i-" your heart is pounding now with the realisation, "i knew your brother. i knew joel. he was a-" you hesitate for only a split second, "friend."

"well shit," tommy says. he caught the hesitation when you landed on friend, and he's looking at you, brows furrowed. "when was the last time you saw him?"

you shrug. "guess it was seven years ago." you look at your daughter, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and then back up at tommy. "it was when he'd stopped hearing from you, actually. he came out to find you. did... did he find you?"

tommy doesn't answer, his eyes widening, and you can see him put the pieces together as he looks at you and then at your daughter, to you, and to her again.

"how old did you say she was?" he nods at violet but keeps his gaze fixed on you.

"i didn't."

"humor me."

"she's six."

"huh," he says, and ellie's looking between you two now and you can see realisation dawning on her, too.

"wait a second--holy shit," ellie cackles, "joel's gonna lose his fuckin' mind."

a sudden flare of panic and excitement floods through you. "wait, you know him too? he's nearby? i'm sorry- he lives around here? he made it?"

ellie snorts and tommy lets out a noise that's almost like a cross between a deep exhale and a strangled moan.

"yep, he lives in town. made it here with ellie a few years back. been living here a while now."

you don't know if you're thrilled or terrified. to be honest, your brain suddenly feels like it's filled to the brim with bees that were muffling out any thought more complex than AAAAHHHHHHHH.. you'd always hoped you might see joel again, but it wasn't till now you realised you never really believed you would.

he's alive. he actually made it.

as if sensing your racing thoughts, tommy pulls up beside you and claps a strong hand on your shoulder.

"one step at a time, sweetheart. seems like y'all have a whole lotta catchin' up to do."

after you're brought through the gate and finish up at the dining hall for a bite to eat, tommy and ellie take you both on a tour of jackson. you'd seen lots of things in the time you'd travelled, but this is the first real community you'd seen. it made you think of the old days, or rather, your ideas of the old days. you were too young when the world ended, but the idea of people living together and supporting one another without bombs going off on street corners and scheduled hangings was something else.

"we've been workin' on makin' a functioning society here. we get energy from the dam, so actual, non-fedra electricity." tommy points along the main street at the street lighting (actual street lighting!!)

"most of the shops are along here," he continues, pointing out each place as he lists them off, "necessities, like a cobbler and a tailor over in that space. greenhouses and farms over in that direction as well as a clinic. we've got a bar, a couple o' bakeries, house of worship, stables back that way- couple fellas opening a barbershop in that space over there pretty soon. and, of course, the residential area just down here. we've got a lotta houses, and we're working on refurbishing a whole lot, too. most families have their own homes. you're welcome to take some time to decide if you would like to stay here, but y'all seem like decent people and at the very least, we can put you up in some of our temporary housing 'til we have a better grasp on what you need. we got families of all configurations here. we did that a whole lot better after the world ended. and this is a home for a lotta people."

"oh-!" ellie says, suddenly excited, "and the school's over there, if you guys wanna stay. fedra school fucking sucked but this one was actually pretty cool. we actually got to learn stuff!"

violet giggles a little, and ellie shoots her a bright smile that makes her giggle little more. it feels safe here. you don't remember the last time things have felt safe. you're trying to take it all in, memorise every storefront, every person, every moment, when the aroma of fresh-baked pastries suddenly assaults your nostrils and you let out an involuntary moan.

"been a while, huh?" ellie asks and snorts, and you nod. "i grew up in the qz so i never had one of these till the shop opened up a couple years ago. but i hear it's just like the old days!"

"mama, it smells really good," violet says, and it's the first thing she's said since you've come through the gates.

"it does, doesn't it?" you ask her, "and look at all these shops. see those clothes in the window there?"

her eyes are as wide as saucers, and you're so overwhelmed with joy that she gets to experience this that you don't notice ellie bounding up the steps to the bakery and running back a minute later with a paper wrapped something in hand.

she holds it out to you and you take it from her gingerly. you kneel down to let violet unwrap the paper and inside is a perfect strawberry danish. you're stunned.

"that's cream cheese and butter from our cows," tommy tells you, "strawberries and wheat grown here, too. all fresh. all cordyceps free. we don't risk using any of the old stuff that might be contaminated"

that's amazing. that's fucking amazing.

"here, baby," you tear off a piece for violet, and she clutches it carefully and sniffs at it warily before popping it into her mouth, chewing with furrowed brows, and breaking out into a grin.

"welcome to jackson," ellie says, and now you're laughing too.

by the evening, tommy's given you a tour of the whole settlement and left you, ellie, and violet at the tipsy bison with an invitation to join him and his family for dinner. there was a strong likelihood that joel would be there and you were shitting bricks.

what if he's totally different from how you remember him? what if he isn't?

what if he wants nothing to do with you? what if he wants nothing to do with violet?

what if he's forgotten you?

you pinch yourself to pull out of your spiral. ellie winks at violet, who's sipping at her juice, and clinks her glass against yours. together, you take large swigs of your beer.

she tells you a bit about herself. she's vague about how she and joel met, and you're not sure if it's because she doesn't want to talk about it or if she's trying to spare the gory details around violet, but she speaks of him fondly and blushed a little when she mentioned i've kinda become, like, a surrogate daughter to him. and he's my old man.

before you could gather your thoughts and ask any follow-ups, she's already blowing through different topics, grinning as she tells you about her girlfriend, about her tattoo and how she wants another one, about her favorite horse, and the way patrols worked around here, and you relax into the conversation. into the peace. into taking a break.

before you know it, the three of you are walking towards tommy's house and right as you're about to knock at the door, ellie barrels past and swings the door open with a bellowed "we're here!" reverberating off the walls.

as you step through the door, delicious food smells waft through the hallway and you hear laughter and music coming from the kitchen. ellie makes a beeline through the door on your right and you take it all in for a moment.

"you coming?" ellie calls, and you follow her.

and stop dead in your tracks.

illuminated in the light of an antique shaded lamp, sat on a rocking chair, was joel.

he's greyer and more tired, but he also looks- happy? and he's got reading glasses on as he peers at what looks to be a picture book as he points out the illustrations to the kid on his lap. your jaw drops.

the kid's probably around the same age as violet.

ellie is stood in the corner of the room, half-heartedly pretending to examine a bookshelf while she blatantly eavesdrops.

joel looks up and smiles in a way that you've only seen a few times before. it's... unguarded. he extends a hand, "hi there, you must be our guests, i'm jo-"

and then recognition flickers over his face and he stops. stares at you, wide eyed, and then his eyes flick over to violet, and back to you.

"hi joel," you say.

if you're honest, you're expecting him to be the asshole you remember. grouchy. closed off. sweet only in private, intimate, brief moments.

what you don't expect is for him to gently call over to ellie with a "we need a minute here, could you take your cousin and see if tommy and maria need a hand?"

cousin, he'd said, and you can feel your heart slow down a notch, calming down a little. oof. one step at a time, you remind yourself, one step at a time.

"sure thing," ellie nods and helps the kid down from joel's lap, holding his hand as they walk through to the kitchen.

you're stood, frozen, as joel takes off his readers, rubs his eyes, and stands up. you've forgotten how imposing he can be, but even now, he just feels like a big shield between you and the rest of the world. you stare at each other for just a moment, and then strong arms are wrapping around you and joel is laughing?

"fuck," he snorts, "i can't believe it's you. after all this time!"

he pulls back but keeps his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down, studying you.

and then he looks back down at violet and you see his face contort from joy to something almost like fear. maybe dread, even? or anticipation.

"mama, who is this man?" violet asks, tugging at your sleeve, and you kneel down to her.

you meet eyes with joel one more time before answering her, and you see building panic behind them.

this was, admittedly, a lot. one step at a time. "his name is joel, he was a friend of mine. i knew him before you were born!"

violet extends her little hand out towards joel. "my name is violet, it's a kind of flower. i like your hair. it's sooo silvery."

you snort involuntarily, and joel gulps audibly, wide-eyed, before taking her small hand in his large palm, cradling it as if holding something precious, and shakes it. "i'm joel. it's nice to meet you."

you all have dinner and it's actually a pretty good time, as long as you don't make too much eye contact with joel, who looks as though he has an electric current running through him, keeping him wide eyed and twitchy. he's clearly trying to appear unfazed, but he's jumpy and not at all subtle, to the point that the kid who'd been on joel's lap earlier, rowan you'd learned, prods at joel at one point in the meal. joel jumps a mile and rowan furrows his brow asking why are you being so weird, uncle joel?

despite the tension, it's so domestic. this was a joel who folded his napkin on his lap before starting to eat, who minded his manners, and obviously pressed ellie to mind hers, too. the joel you patched up when he came to you bloodied and bruised felt like a shadow long since past.

after dinner, when you've made it through unscathed, tommy's watching the little ones as they conk out on the couch. maria's going over paperwork, and ellie's tuning a guitar.

joel pops his head into the room and makes a vague gesture indicating outside. "wanna chat on the porch?" he asks, and you nod and follow him.

there are a pair of handsome adirondack chairs and you each take a seat. you don't say anything, don't even look at one another. you just sit there in comfortable silence.

but then joel takes a deep breath and you know the question that's coming.

"violet?" he asks, "is she mine?"

you smile sadly.

"yeah," you say, "you're her daddy."

he chokes out a strangled noise and tries to cover it with a cough, badly.

he doesn't seem like he's gonna say anything, and you reckon he's not gonna, so you try and breeze past it.

"i know- i know it wasn't part of the plan." you exhale, "but it's okay, joel. she's only known one parent her whole life and it's common enough these days that she doesn't think it's strange. and i don't know if you ever want her to know that you're her dad, but i'm not ready for her to know. i'll tell her, but i want her to settle in here before any big life revelations come up for her. jackson's enough of a change as it is."

he nods slowly, coughs out a low "i understand. and i respect it. i just never thought-"

"neither did i," you cut him off, "and when i realized i was pregnant i didn't intend to keep it, but fedra had raided the last underground clinics that i knew about. most of the staff got hanged, and i was out of options."

he lets out a sharp exhale.

you're silent for another minute before joel speaks again.

"i'm sorry-" he says, "i'm sorry that your choice was taken from you. and i'm so sorry i wasn't there for you."

he still doesn't look at you, but he rests a hand on your knee.

"i can't believe- all this time and i have another daughter and i had no idea."

"she's such a cool kid," you tell him, "and don't get me wrong, i felt like the worst person in the world, bringing a kid into that fuckin'- fedra plague world," you admit, "but she's so funny, shy when you first meet her, but she has so much personality. every day, she's more and more of a tiny person! and she's just started doing this thing where i'll tell her something and she'll just scowl at me and she looks just like you-"

"hey, i don't scowl that much-" joel argues, scowling, and there's the joel you remember. all of a sudden you're hysterical with laughter, and then joel cracks too and he's laughing with you.

after a while, you fall into another comfortable silence. it gets later and later, and then joel's standing up and offering you a hand.

"'fraid i've got patrol in the morning, so i'd best be going to bed soon, and i'm guessing y'all are exhausted?"

you nod, feeling as if acknowledgement of it suddenly made it true. good god you were tired.

"you know what house you're staying in tonight?" he asked, and you tell him the number.

"sounds good," he nods, "can i walk ya home?"

"sure," you smile.

you head back inside, scoop up violet, and then the three of you are heading towards your temporary lodgings.

when you arrive, joel bids you goodnight at your doorstep and bobs his head a little as though he was about to lean in to kiss your cheek but then thought better of it, and instead takes your hand for a moment and mutters without looking directly at you, "it's really great to see you, baby. glad you made it here safe."

you go to bed. an actual bed, mind you.

you dreamed of joel miller.

you'd pretty much decided you and violet would stay here in jackson from the first minute you walked down the main street, but you gave it a few days before letting the council know. this is what you've been looking for, though. a home. a community. safety.

violet starts going to school. she's in the same year as rowan and apparently thrilled about it, so you're at tommy and maria's home more often than you'd imagined. you start patrolling, too. just short routes to begin with, but you didn't make it through this much without knowing how to survive, and you're good at it.

and then there's joel.

he's different.

he's aged, but he still looks great. the salt and pepper of his hair has turned more salt than pepper, and the crinkles by his eyes are deeper. you're still attracted to him, so attracted to him, but you don't wanna make any rash decisions. he seems lighter, clearly taken by ellie, and cautiously friendly towards you and violet.

he's made it clear he'd like to get to know her, but is happy to take his time, waiting until you're more comfortable with it. which is so beautifully, frustratingly thoughtful.

you never expected that cold, angry joel could be so warm and open, but he seems like such a doting family man, keeping an eye out for ellie, always there for tommy, being a good uncle for rowan. there was clearly some tension between him and his sister-in-law, too, but one evening you walked in on them doing dishes together, singing along to some old dolly parton cd. you slipped out the door before either of them saw you'd seen.

one night, violet and rowan are having a sleepover, supervised by tommy, and you have a rare night to yourself. you make your way over to the tipsy bison and relax at the bar, letting the whiskey warm you.

you chat with the bartender, and decide to put a song on the jukebox, but as you get up from your stool you knock the whiskey bottle over and watch tumble seemingly in slow motion before being caught by- "joel?"

"easy now," joel smiles, "don't want a repeat of last time."

it takes you aback for a moment, and then your face is burning with the memory.

"can't believe you remember that," you say, and he snorts.

"course i do. that was the last night i saw you."

he pulls out a stool and sits down next to you. gestures at the bartender for a glass, and pours himself a healthy finger of whiskey.

"how do you remember that night going?" you ask.

joel scratches at his cheek for a moment, pondering, and smiles, sipping his whiskey. "i was gonna be leavin' town, and i wanted to say goodbye so i checked out all your usual spots. walked in to see you smash a bottle and then try and flirt your way out of it with that weedy little bartender."

"i remember that bit, too," you say, "though on my end, i'll remind you, i was drinking because i was preemptively missing you and didn't realise you were leaving so soon."

"i do remember you saying that," joel nods, "and i was so mad because i'd spent so much time that night trying to find you, and that was time we wouldn't get back."

your eyes widen at his words. you didn't know this part. suddenly, you feel a warmth rising in you that you hadn't expected.

"do you remember what happened next?" he asks.

you nod. "yeah, you yelled at me a little, implied i was a whore, yelled at me more, and then told me you were leaving in the morning."

"jesus, i'm an asshole," joel says, and you smile.

"yeah, you are. neither of us were at our best though. but then we had one last night."

"one last night," he echoes.

neither of you say anything for a minute, and then joel breaks the silence.

"i'd be lying if i said i hadn't replayed that night over and over again in my head."

you smile. "me too," you admit, "it's honestly been a while since i've been with anyone, and when it's just me and my hand, that night's the first thing that i think of."

joel inadvertently chokes and splutters, dabbing at his mouth as he tries to collect himself. he's flushed a beautiful shade of pink and it makes you giggle.

"shit, girl, i forgot how blunt you can be."

"i think this might be the first wholly honest conversation we've had since i got to town," you ponder, still smiling, "we're always dancing around each other. in orbit but never colliding."

he looks at you with a curious expression on his face, like he's enjoying the task of trying to parse you almost as much as he's seeking an understanding.

you pour yourself another glass of whiskey and knock it back in one. you're gathering your courage. you're plotting plots now, and sure it's been a long time, but you figure it's worth a shot.

"i've been thinking, joel," you tell him, and his eyes are so focused on you, "i wanna say up front i don't have any expectations, and i won't be offended if you'd rather not-"

he raises an eyebrow at you and you could swear you see flirtation behind it.

"but, if you wanted-"

"spit it out"

"that last night doesn't have to be the last night."

your eyes are locked and don't speak, don't move, don't breathe.

and then joel miller's lips are crashing into yours, and you moan into him, one hand clutching at your shoulders, the other cupping your chin, and you melt into it.

"my place," you tell him, "violet's with her cousin tonight."

you realise that's the first time you said those words like that, so casual and normal, and you know you'll need to unpack that later but joel, shockingly, takes it in stride.

before you know it, you're walking up the porch steps with joel right on your heels and unlocking the front door.

you've barely gotten the door open before you're on the other side of it and it's slamming shut, joel pressing you against the threshold and kissing you deeply. one of his thighs presses between your legs and without thinking you rub up against it.

"shit, i've missed you baby," he says, and you're moaning against him as he helps you pull off your shirt, and you start to unbutton his. he continues, bashful, "didn't think you'd want an old man like me, anymore."

you scoff, "you've aged well, joel, and more than that, you've aged. you're still here and i can't even begin to tell you how much that means."

you tug the flannel from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor behind him before you pull off his undershirt.

"besides," you tell him, "you're the best lay i've ever had and i don't believe for a minute you've lost your touch."

he snorts, but then he's kissing on your neck again and you know you'll need to talk about things properly at some point. for now, though, you'll get lost in the feeling of him.

you're lost in the dizzy haze of touch. joel's hands are all over you, grabbing, stroking, caressing. you stumble to your bedroom, stepping out of your jeans and helping him shuck off his pants along the way. then he's laid out on your bed, bare except for his boxer shorts, chest heaving and cock straining.

you yank off your panties and climb on top of him, straddling him so your bare pussy rubs up against his hardness. he groans and grabs you by the hips, rocking you up and down his length.

"feel so good, baby," he breathes, and his eyes are fluttering closed in pleasure. "come here," he tells you, and he pulls you down for a kiss.

you take him in. look at his body. his chest hair has greyed, and he's got more scars than you remember including a nasty-looking one that must've been a close call. you run a thumb over the one on the side of his chest, still pearly but less pink these days, from the time you patched him up.

joel watches you watch him. "i never thanked you properly for that, sweetheart," he says, "but thank you. you saved my ass that night."

"of course," you tell him, as you dip down and lick a stripe up from his happy trail, all the way to his throat.

"fuck," he whines, and you shut him up with a kiss.

when you finally break, he strokes your cheek. "sit on my face," he tells you, and you don't need him to ask you twice.

you hobble up on your knees and then rest your cunt on his open mouth. he lets out a strangled moan and hmmms into you, the vibrations hitting your clit deliciously, before grabbing onto your hips and eating you like a man starved.

his clever tongue finds your aching clit and flicks against it, hard. once you're nearly overstimulated, he senses it and starts to lick long strokes, back and forth, dipping into your drooling pussy with each pass.

it's heavenly. addictive. you've hooked with old flames before, years after you'd slept with them last, and not only does joel not disappoint? he blows your fucking mind.

you come on his tongue and instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer. licks you deep. takes a breath and tells you "one more, baby, gimme another one."

you do, using his face to get yourself off, taking your time to build back up, rocking your hips over him, his nose covered with your slick, his cheeks, lips, and chin glistening so pretty when you finally shudder and spasm all over him.

"taste so good, baby," he tells you, "i wanna make you come on my tongue all night long."

"as much as i'd love that," you say, "i need that cock in me right fucking now. it's been seven years, joel."

he smirks, but doesn't need persuading.

he flips you over and presses his cock head at your entrance. before he slides in, though, he takes a moment to look you over.

you know you look older, and your hair has a few grey strands throughout. you've got more wrinkles, and stretch marks, and more than a few new scars.

before you can second-guess yourself, though, joel is stroking a hand along all of your perceived imperfections, adoring.

"so fuckin' beautiful", he whispers, "after all this time- i can't believe-"

you let your hand lace through the hair at his nape and give it a gentle tug. he closes his eyes, focusing only on the sensation, before opening them again. looking directly at you.

you're already so wet and worked up, he slides into you easily in one stroke, making you both gasp, and he just rests there for a moment, fully sheathed in you.

you clutch one another as he starts to thrust into you, pressing you open in a delicious stretch.

he fucks into you and then pauses and readjusts. moves your legs so they're on his shoulders, rather than wrapped round his waist. then he presses into you again, tentative, and your eyes practically roll back. it's the deepest thing you've felt.

"takin' me so good," he praises, "i feel how wet and ready you are, you've been needing this a while, huh?"

you can barely speak, only enough to breath out a whiny uh-huh that makes him chuckle.

"touch me", you beg, and he does, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, gripping your waist, your hips. he grabs at your ass and jiggles it before giving it a swat that makes you giggle, but he looks positively feral.

"this fuckin' body," he groans, and you squeak as you take a particularly deep thrust and he eases up just a little.

you reach up to grab his jaw and kiss him, and he kisses you back, deep and lovely. you drag your tongue along his jawline and pepper kisses down his neck, trace your fingertips along his pearlescent scars.

"god, joel," you moan, "so fuckin big, you feel so good."

"you even feel better than i remember, too."

"don't you dare stop, don't you dare stop fucking me-"

"never, baby. wanna have you like this always."

you can feel your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed with the sensation, with the tenderness and the care and the big cock fucking deep into you, it's all so good.

"yes baby," he grunts, "keep it open for me, good girl, letting me fuck you so nice."

you can see how his eyes are glittering and know he's emotional, too. he's staring at you with reverential awe that might embarrass you if it didn't feel so right. this isn't the rough, hair pulling, choking, biting sex you remember from him. he presses a hand over your belly and rubs gentle circles against it. his touch is electric.

"can't believe you made it," joel whispers, "made it all the way here, and you still want me. we've got a kid, and i left you all alone, and you still want me."

"always, joel," you tell him, and you realise it's the truth. whatever life you make for yourself, you want joel miller in it.

he lets out a growl and starts fucking you harder, deeper.

your orgasm builds quickly and soon you're clutching at his shoulder, leaving half moon crescents in his skin where your nails dig in, holding on for dear life.

"i'm gonna come," you tell him, and he holds you through it, his pace steady as your walls clench around his cock.

his hips begin to stutter as he loses his rhythm, nearing his own climax. he chokes out, "where do you want it?"

"my chest," you say, "come all over my tits."

he pulls out and strokes himself twice before spilling out on your chest, his cum landing on you in hot ropes.

after you catch your breath, he gently cleans you up and then pulls you into the crook of his arm, holding you close. you lay there together, just breathing.

"so gorgeous, momma," he says.

"not too bad yourself, daddy," you tell him, and he snorts.

you know you have a lot of things to talk about. the past seven years. the future. loss and love. violet getting to know her father.

for now, though, joel miller is in your bed and you're going to cherish every minute of it. it's more than enough.

[viveela]

your art is ❤ I wanna squeeze them to death (affectionate) also do you read sp fanfiction? if so do you have recs? 🙈

Ah thank you sm!! I'm so glad people enjoy my fanarts, I honestly didn't think my whole shift to south park posting would go this well lol I'm very glad to be proven otherwise!!

As for sp fics ...this is gonna be a long post lol.

So I have been reading some, buuut I guess I'm kinda picky...I am kind of particular about fics in general honestly. If I love something I want to see it portrayed authentically, that goes for every fandom I've been in. I know aus are fun but I want to be able to mainly consume canon compliant content, rarely do I read anything else oops. Unfortunately I've found that to be kinda hard since aging them up and doing all sorts of aus is heavily the vast majority with the sp fandom so I don't really have too many fics I personally have to recommend; just a handful that stood out to me, but I will happily share some!! They're all style and creek tho as I haven't found any I like that aren't yet, but I hope to find some for other pairs or nonromantic ones soon.

Stan x Kyle: A Ballad of True Hearts It's ongoing but really good so far! I really enjoy it, I'm a huge sucker for the fantasy look from the show/game and when it comes to aus this is like the only one I really indulge in. I really like how they're characterized and the tense dynamic they have that reflects the one seen in the current state of the series. The underlying plot has me very intrigued too! Sign of Devotion Adorable canon feeling story where their fantasy world is rarely portrayed as in the show with them simply playing pretend (which is my fav way to see it done). I loved this one to pieces and idk I just really like the idea of some feelings arising between them from trying to stay in character!! To Be More Than My Daydream I really enjoyed this one because it really nailed down how comfortable the two boys have gotten with each other's presence. I enjoy the idea of Stan taking a while to realize how his feelings changed over time and the way awareness of this slowly comes to light. It's written so tenderly and sweet it's really cute, I love the way they are here. Say it and mean it (for both our sakes) Such an awesome fic covering the distance that has grown between the two and how they're both happier when close to one another. They are both wanting and missing what they once had before but so bad at communicating this to each other until now. It was just perfect, loved it. Tweek x Craig:

Signs Point to Yes Incredibly fun fic, super in character, felt like an actual episode. The call back to the fortune teller is great. It was just such an enjoyable fic that really captured their dynamic and the struggle to save a relationship they didn't even ask for but now want. Super cute!

A Stripe of Love This fic was made before there was that much info on Stripe I believe, but it is very cute and I enjoyed it a lot. I am also always a fan for people bringing in Tweek's unofficial/official parrot into the mix, even if briefly. Overall, it's just a really sweet read.

Baby steps

Really cute exploration of how the two would feel about the awkward transition from faking to actually putting real feelings into their actions and being a little more vocal about it. Tweek's nerves are captured really nicely too.

That's all of them, hopefully my tastes in fics overlap at least a little with yours and you gain a nice read out of this!

I also plan to write some fics myself so maybe keep an eye out for that...?

[labratatouille]

Hey!!!! I come from ao3!! 🙌🙌

I was wondering if you have a favourite plotline you’re working on for the knights of the Cardinal compass? I’m fully caught up with the chapters now and need more lmaoooo

also on record I’d like to make it clear that I’m personally super into the Cartman and Butters manipulation game jazz because oH DRAMAAAAAA

Thank you + no pressure to respond 🌝🌝

AYYYY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THE FIC!! Seriously it means the world to me 🤍🤍

And omfg that’s a very good question.

1. So far I’ve probably enjoyed writing the first hump of what I call the “Cartman actually starts to appreciate the team” arc the most, because his actions in chapter 8 made my heart feel shockingly warm inside (no spoilers) ESPECIALLY HIM AND KYLE KINDA GETTING OVER THEIR SHARED PAST TENSION!! Oh and you’ll be treated to more details on the Kyle and Cartman past soon don’t worry, it’s secret for a reason rn. Seriously the theme of Cartman wanting to ironically use history to run away from his past is so prevalent lmaooooo love him honestly, what a dick. I find him wanting penance so fitting for the Crusades.

2. Another one I’m super passionate about exploring is Kenny’s impulsiveness and obsession with almost dying (total callback to the show honestly). Bro needs a hobby that isn’t dangerous because this fucker cannot get away from traps. I really hope I’ve been able to show just how much of a dopamine hit this guy gets from dancing with death, the man is addicted to risk taking. I’m gonna try not to say too much about it because there’s a lot more going to happen with this very soon, but I think it defo shows in how (out of the m4) his reasons for being on the expedition are least related to history and more related to needing the adrenaline of a search. My action hero trope <33 + love him being a bit of a Butters simp honestly

3. AND ON TOP OF THAT PROFESSOR KYLE!! Would you believe me if I said that the next few chapters are very much “ohhhhh dear lord is this man okay like… in the brain?” coded, same with Stan a lil bit. His underlying perfectionism and slight envy of Tolkiens success that are mentioned like twice make me so incredibly depressed because I already know the plot, and not a spoiler because it’s been hinted at for ages but Kyle’s workaholism is gonna get a little bit intense.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE QUESTIONS, see you next time!! 😎👍

AO3: lab_ratatouille

[casualhedonists]

Please tell us about all the inspos for this fic. I am begging

you do NOT have to ask me twice nonnie (thank you for enabling me)

slightly long post ahead! 🤍

so i drew some of the initial inspo for the fic and the power dynamics at play (coryo being president, the reader latching onto that power through their arrangement) from a house of cards-like dynamic. i wanted that dark undertone to exist but more glamorous and capitol-ised (?) with fancy balls and displays of excess as we know already exists in the hunger games universe. the very face-value, pawns in a political game reminded me a bit of that show and so i kinda crossed the tbosas universe over with that until it worked. also with it being old fashioned i kinda took inspo from like, a house of cards meets bbc’s war and peace type vibe.

for the power dynamics, the constant push and pull between coryo and reader, it was BIG mr and mrs smith vibes (one of my fave movies ugh such a masterclass). the dinner table scene especially, like that underlying tension in chapter two when he asks her if she’s okay, and then the obvious chapter four scene near the beginning where she’s messing with him. just so so delicious to write that kind of electric power play where you’re on your toes all the time, never knowing when someone’s going to break.

in terms of snow’s manor house they live in, and the housestaff, i was pulling on a bit of a downton abbey kinda vibe (comfort show icl). i tried giving the staff more character through that too (esp lucille my beloved) as they’re just a much more effective plot device when there’s backstory, which panned out super well when i came to write chapter five and suddenly had a plot device in my hands to write them into a Situation!

another big big inspo for the power dynamics/smut/general themes of this fic was based on this oscar wilde quote:

“everything in the world is about sex, except sex. sex is about power.”

it just always kept popping back into my brain as i wrote yknow?? series thesis statement if there ever was one.

moving on! maybe a more niche reference but when reader walks around snow’s room in the later chapters, esp the first time, i was drawing a little on the selena gomez hands to myself video. spraying the cologne etc and just that obsession and fascination with being in someone’s space.

the voyeurism aspect (and i only realised that upon the reread i did to make this post as thorough as possible) actually pulled on a certain scene from crimson peak.

okay nonnie i am gonna leave it at that for tonight, i’m sure i’ll remember more and if i do i’ll add them to this post! thank you again for asking, i love talking about this 🤍🤍

[fanaticsnail]

Hi, just a rando who saw the blacklisting tags post and just wanted to share smth neat about myself: I don't like fics that are shipping content at all? :0 I'm not a very romantic person, so, that genre just isn't interesting to me. Because of this I unfortunately have avoided all fanfic due to lack of um.. understanding if there even is a tag/system of terms that would mean no shipping? from how I understand fic, that's kinda how you find the fics at all in the first place via the shipping tag? (i know no shipping fanfics exist though, and even tried to encourage myself to write some years ago but genuinely felt like there's such a minority of people who would care, I never bothered) I just found it interesting that your question to Moon about what fic she enjoys seemed to translate exclusively (to me) to asking what shipping content she likes. While I could be misunderstanding the meaning on that one, I just wanted to let you know that there's all kinds of reasons why x reader wouldn't be someone's cup of tea, and in my case it's that I don't read fanfic at all due to avoiding romantic content in general! have a great day, and if there IS a tag for no shipping in fics I'd love to actually learn what it is

My Dear, my Darling; I completely understand.

On Ao3, there's the "/" option to tag as platonic (at least I think that's the way you're meant to use it). If the romance is between OP character and the reader, it is tagged "x reader". For example: if the fic describes the romantic relationship between Sanji and a reader: "Sanji x reader" is tagged. If there is an underlying rapport relationship that the reader character has with Luffy: their bond should be tagged as "Luffy / Reader".

I am yet to see the tag used here, and I have no idea if I should start tagging "/ reader" or not for the majority of my fics. I also would like to add, if romance is not your flavour of fic: that is absolutely fine! Reading romance is not everyone's yum.

To quietly add: I have desired to write concepts I have had vivid nightmarish and dark dreams about: sci-fi, adventure horror, thriller and gore are the main elements of those ones. All original works, characters and concepts - but I know it is not something everyone will enjoy reading. It's not fandom, and I have built this page around the One-Piece fandom. I am a Snail; I write romance, comradery and rapport here. The only thoughts I write that are an outlet for non-romance and friendship are interacting within the plot with background OCs and characters.

In saying all that; if there is a request you'd desire to be made for character x character rapport and interaction, or reader x character that you would like to read - your asks are welcome here! If you request this type of fic, I think if you request "Character x Platonic!Reader" would be a way to do it?

I adore writing shenanigans. It is one of the main reasons I play D&D - specifically for shenanigan content (I am in fact playing tonight, and I can't wait for @since-im-already-here and I to obliterate the stupid mind-flayer!)

In regards to the "people not caring" aspect: We watch One-Piece. None of those characters are together romantically! I adore them all and love watching the angst, fluff and relationships between them. That's what brought us all here in the first place!

Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me, anon. I am so glad you felt able to reach out and educate me, truly. I mean it with the biggest heart that ever did belong to a such a Snail.

[yume-x-hanabi]

Concubinage Behind the Scenes - ch.9

And finally a new one :)

It's been so long since I started this bts series, never mind updating the actual fic. I'm in a good mindspace for it atm tho, so maybe??? Soon??? But I'm not keeping my hopes up too much because I have lots of work things pending, so we'll see if I can maintain my fandom drive this time around...

(chapter | DW post | previous posts)

So, chapter 9...

This is the start of a sort of "filler" arc (if this were an anime lol); not much plot advancement, but character moments and development. This one is about Arst and Lin's improving relationship in particular, and also an excuse to extend the setting beyond the castle grounds, for once.

My mental image of the part of town they visit is inspired from Kyoto's Kamogawa river banks. In fact, ancient Kyoto and Chang'an are my main sources of inspiration for Xian Yang in terms of urban structure and architecture, though Xian Yang has a large river splitting the city in two, with the castle in the middle of the river. It's a completely different vibe from the towns we get to visit in the game, but the worldbuilding of Auj Oule being made of different tribes, plus the endless possibilities given by spirit climes made me want to develop other kinds of environments and structures.

(No but seriously spirit climes are such a brilliant worldbuilding elements. It's such a good excuse to have a town with hotter climate close to other mountainous and super cold areas XD Man I love Xillia's settings so much.)

Anyway. It's kinda funny to write Gaius going sight-seeing or leisurely eating ice cream at a terrace, but this is what fanfiction is for ;) That's especially something I love about this fic, it's that it's a more... "mundane" setting than Gaius' actual backstory. At this point of the story, he's just busy being married. That's it. Domestic life with a sprinkle of political intrigue: the fic. And there's nothing I love more than portraying characters in situations we don't get to see in canon x)

There's been a short time jump since the previous chapter, and in the weeks since then Arst and Lin's relationship has started improving a lot. They're still awkward around each other at times, but they're getting to know each other, are communicating, and are spending more and more time together. Of course, it's not all perfect yet, hence their discussion about trust (as an aside, the fact Arst is openly talking about it is a huge improvement in itself).

I didn't want things to be too smooth for them once they start getting along, because there's a lot of heavy baggage behind them. And this kinda reflects their canon backstory in reverse: Wingul was the one who used to see Gaius as an enemy and had to learn to trust him. Here it's Arst who has a lot of reservation about Lin and doesn't give his trust easily. This sort of "role reversal" from canon is also a major underlying theme of this fic.

And Arst, it is totally a date :p

Their talk about city defense is very Gaius and Wingul, though. Here I'll admit something: I haven't actually planned yet how they're going to take control of the clan. I have a number of ideas in mind, but I haven't decided yet. I think that's something that'll come more naturally when I get to that part of the story. So Arst's "strategy" to take the city could be foreshadowing... or not lol. If they go the "conquest from outside" way, I'm definitely keeping this bit in mind as to how to plan it. But it could also be a "take from the inside" thing. Or more like canon. As I said, haven't decided yet :p

The token thing is kinda inspired by MDZS/The Untamed (which I was very into at the time lol) and how the Gusu Lan clan uses jade tokens to enter/exit the Cloud Recesses. Here they don't have magical properties, and serve a bit as ID cards in a way; Arst gets the ones reserved for concubines, but there are actually many other types depending on the person. Servants have their own (though their uniform is usually enough for the guards, but if they want to be diligent they should check it's not just a disguise), as do courtiers or council members, official suppliers etc. And for everyone else, there are visitor tokens distributed at the entrance if their visit has been approved. Long Dau family members don't need one ofc, and could technically bring anyone in without handing them a token (though they should, but again, for all the security measures, they've become quite lax and complacent in some areas).

Concubines not being allowed to leave at will is not an Arst-exclusive thing in this case, they're all bound by the same restrictions. Gilded cage and all that...

Lin letting Arst hold on to his is a big thing. As much as he wants his respect and friendship and love (tho not yet atp), he doesn't entirely trust him yet either. After all, Arst does have a reputation as a troublemaker. Plus at this point of the story Lin is still very reluctant to go against clan rules. But this is a sign that he's already changing under Arst's influence: where he used to be passive and go with the flow before, he's now starting to make his own decisions, and this is one early significant example. He's looking at the future here, a future where he and Arst have a good life together. And that future won't come on its own, so he has to plant the seeds and nurture them. So this is his move.

Not being familiar with the system, I don't think Arst fully realized just how significant this was for Lin to do, but he does appreciate the gesture.

Last point, I don't know if readers noticed, but the narration (which is closely following Arst's POV) stopped referring to Lin as "Prince Lin" in this chapter. This shows the difference in Arst's view of him since the previous chapter. "Prince Lin", when not derogatory, was neutral/polite but distant. Now that they've become closer, he's started seeing him as just "Lin", a (tentative) friend. Of course, protocol still had him use his title when speaking to him, but in his mind he'd already dropped the "Prince" part, hence why he slipped at the end out of enthusiasm. And Lin welcomes this of course. It's a big step in their relationship.

At the end, Lin's totally changing the topic to hide a blush ;p

[capybaraonabicycle]

Hiya! For the writers truth & dare ask game, I'd love to know about..

🕯️On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? Why is that?

🍄Share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

❄️What's a dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? (also, which character would be involved)

🌿Give some advice on writer's block and low creativity (or energy⚡if you like)

🏜️What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

🌸Do you have any pets? If you do, post some pictures of them

I'm btw planning on reading more Righting Reflex in the evening, I just really need to get at least one and a half more tasks done today for my portfolio. Sending you much love 💚🦎

Thank you, love!! This is way too long, so I will put it under a 'read more'

🕯️On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? Why is that?

Maybe a 3? Like, I don't hate it but I'm not too fond of it either. I enjoy reading what I have written more often than not and I like putting [GERMAN WORD] or [TBD - WRITE SMTH ABOUT XY] ever so often while writing, but I don't enjoy changing the story afterwards much. I rarely change big things, usually only a scene or two and a few expressions. That said, I have to read every scene like 15 times before posting to scour for errors - and I am certain I am missing so many anyway.

🍄Share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Okay, let's go with fugitive Doctor/River. (Did you expect this by any chance? ;) )

You know this bit:

source

[ID: two gifs from The Husbands of River Song of River saying "Do you know who you remind me of? My second wife!". end ID]

People have been speculating that she is talking about 13, which I get, definitely. But I want to argue that it is the superior interpretation that she would be talking about the fugitive Doctor (or another incarnation the Doctor has forgotten about but where would be the fun in that?). For the following reasons:

Vibes. This is the important point. River says 12 reminds her of the wife, so they have to be alike-ish. And I feel like 12 and the fugitive Doctor have a certain similarity in their demeanour. I think a big thing is how they hold themselves upright, actually, but also the whole Danny calling 12 an officer when the fugitive Doctor actually is one. Also the underlying kindness both of them possess and the end-life-crisis. They both lose all of their companions (Clara, Bill and Nardole vs Karvanista, Gat and Lee - one lives on but they can never see them again/forget about them, the other two die (or that's what they believe at least) and it is their fault) and I would argue they both are thinking about not regenerating this time. (I reckon the fugitive Doctor does not have a choice though.)

Loss. See the last point. The Doctor loses everything in fotj. Give her her wife, at least, please. Let River bring her some love and companionship <3 13 loses a lot as well but she's got Yaz. Which also leads us to:

Thasmin. Like, you know, if River had been tangibly in the 13th Doctor's life in any way, thasmin would have kissed. 100%. They didn't, so River didn't marry 13, simple as that.

Timelines. River does not know about more faces of the Doctor and well, 13 is older than 12. Of course, she could lie to her and yes, River gets married a little carelessly, so she might have married some John Smith!13. But if she met the fugitive Doctor - who seems very different from the timelord she knows and has no recollection of the Doctor's life, it would be easy for her to draw the conclusion that the Doctor is just some other person going by that name. And the fugitive Doctor would forget about her, of course. There's also a good possibility, River isn't actually married to the Doctor but to Ruth.

Time, Doctor's side. Honestly, 13 just doesn't have enough time to get married to River. Am I still hoping we will get those two on screen (or audio) together? Of course! But 13 is kinda busy, most of the time we either see her with the fam (who don't know River, see lotsd) or very occupied with stuff (like apocalypses or prison).

So, yeah, headcanon: The fugitive Doctor is River's second wife.

(The first is Cleopatra, right? Like Idk if there is canon confirmation but it feels true.)

❄️What's a dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? (also, which character would be involved)

Okay, when I read this question, I thought I wouldn't have any idea. But I have. Several. Lets start. Fics I would will into existence if I could:

Full-length Little VVomen.

I know we won't get the movie, but I'll gladly take it as a novel fic. Just for an explanation: Little VVomen is a parody trailer for a crossover of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and the horror movie VVitch (I assume, I don't actually know VVitch). And it is glorious. Just -

- If it's about a girl, make sure she's married by the end. - Does it have to be to a man?

lives in my head rent free. I want a full story of Jo March saying gay rights, writing spells and sacrificing innocent men, pretty please <3 And I really, really want to know what's up with the Sean!devil.

This is the trailer btw:

Anyone write this please? (If I could choose, I'd ask Sean and Sinead who wrote the trailer, but I fear, I am already stretching the definition of fic here and using the authors of the og trailer probably defeats the purpose of this question.)

2. Strax fairytale!! written by you :)

Strax as a fairytale protagonist is SUCH an inspired idea and I am hoping very much that you will get round to it some day. But I can't really tell you anything about that that you don't know better yourself.

Or, maybe, I can: I have become kinda enarmoured with the 'Strax as the faithful Johannes' idea, I have always adored that tale, mainly for the tragedy and extremely strong friendship theme. Like, it is so clear that the king's most important relationship is his friendship to his servant. The princess is lovely but they barely know each other, yet. And I think there is SO much potential to improve the abduction scene and the ending. So, yeah, I have been turning that around in my head a bit.

But no matter which tale you will pick, if you ever write a fic for him, I am sure I will absolutely love it!

(also, like, I could mention any of the fairytale ideas you have told me about, here)

3. Heather is an integral part of s10 by @marvellouspinecone

You remember that genius powerpoint Pine made, I assume? Wouldn't it be spectacular if someone wrote that as a fic for me to read? I would choose Pine as the author because she understands the vision best, of course. But, like, I am so grateful already that the powerpoint exists for me to read and dream about :)

(Hi, Pine, not sure you want to read the whole post, but you might see the tag. This is not a request, please don't understand it as such, because that would be incredibly impudent on my part. This is just fancy ideas of mine and a praise to your vision <3)

4. Tenteen is played by Jo Martin by DiscipleOfBrad

So, I actually enjoyed the 60th anniversary (at least wild blue yonder, that much very much had a premise of my type of dw ep) but I still believe we could have done better than bringing back dt for the umpteenth time. (Listen, he is lovely, don't get me wrong, and I liked '14' too, but just - )

I have written a post about why I think making the fugitive Doctor's face return would have been a more interesting choice and I would still love to read it as a fic.

I don't really care whether it would be a simple retelling of the three eps with her instead of tenteen or a completely different tale. I WOULD like to see Donna though (because can you imagine?? Also that scene where Donna just acts like she knows the Doctor all of a sudden? When the Doctor doesn't even really know herself but feels like she should?) and if we could spring for some Karvanista on top, that'd be ace <3

I would give this one to DiscipleOfBrad because I trust them to write a convincing fugitive Doctor. I really enjoyed her in The Cul-de-Sac (which btw I can highly recommend if you'd like some soft thasmin and an intriguing premise. There is a heavy side of whouffaldi, though, I'm not sure whether that is your thing?).

🌿Give some advice on writer's block and low creativity (or energy⚡if you like)

I feel like it always helps me to get myself into a 'I can't do anything else now anyway' situation? That's why trainrides are so good for writing. I just need to be in a situation where I can't take care of more pressing matters, so it won't feel overwhelming if I don't take care of them?

Like, I will rather scroll tumblr than work on my thesis but I won't write. But if I am away from wifi, I might not be able to work on the thesis anyway, so I will easier find the peace of mind (and hence energy and creativity) to write?

Idk maybe that's just me. Maybe it's not working at all either. Honestly, I don't quite know where energy, creativity or motivation to write come from. They just knock and then they're there.

🏜️What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Well, obviously, I adore long comments, who doesn't? But just saying 'long' feels both greedy and like cheating, so let's talk content.

I think, what excites me most in a comment is when I can sense the enthousiasm? It doesn't necessarily have to be for the content of my fic, I had someone write 'YOU MADE A CROSSOVER FOR THESE TWO FANDOMS?? THEY'RE MY FAVOURITE!!" and it made me smile for a day. Just, I write those things because I love the characters and themes and if someone shows that they share this passion? That's community, that's what we're searching for, isn't it?

But also I got a comment today that was just a bunch of predictions about the next chapter of my current fic and that felt amazing! Generally, when people notice things or I feel they have been paying attention, that is SO GOOD. That's probably also why we love long comments. I mean, generally, every second you spend reading the comment is gold, so the longer the comment the more seconds there are, but also a long comment will usually go into detail. Make predictions. Notice things. Talk about how they perceive the characters and why something made sense/surprised them. Quote your fic back to you. And like, all of that is so much fun. It's like reading your story again, remembering why you wrote it. It's the best feeling in the world.

I very dearly love comments.

🌸Do you have any pets? If you do, post some pictures of them

I don't 😭 The place where I live doesn't allow pets and besides, I am away a lot and not planning on staying in this town much longer anyway. So, yeah, it'd be difficult to have a pet. I really, really want to though. Preferably a cat but I'd be so happy with a dog as well. Or a turtle? Or bunny? Or a lizard? I think you could make me happy with almost any mammal and many types of reptiles <3 (not much into insects or fish though. And I feel weird about birds in cages.)

[aureli-us]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

i was tagged by @2lim3rz but the og post was getting pretty big, so i remade it!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

30! soon to be 31 😎

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

1,166,343. 😳 woah

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mainly skyrim! it's my most beloved, my bread and butter. however i recently also wrote for one piece, dragon age, spiderverse, and some older stuff for jojo's and star trek!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. apocrypha

2. dragonmark

3. smut drabbles (not really a fic but im lazy)

4. break of dawn

5. sic parvis magna

5. Do you respond to comments?

ALWAYS‼️ i love love LOVE commentors and do my best to respond within 1-3 days!

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

UGH i wish i could but i don't often do REALLY angsty endings. so this would probably have to be dragonmark, since it ends with tharya and miraak quite estranged from one another and quite a frosty exchange of dialogue, as well as setting up for the next fic (which ends a teensy bit angsty as well, but not really)

possible runnerup to this is from the new world with love, since it ends rather ambiguously on what happens next.

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

easily revenant. it's a rollercoaster of a fic, approx 40 chapters iirc, but ends with the thing i set out to do when i initially started writing the first & last series :3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

NO, but i have gotten bot comments! i'll take it as a mark of fame 💅 lmao (jk i have no allusions of grandeur)

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

YES. YES. YES. i'm probably a boring smut writer bc i kinda just write tharya and miraak over and over and over and over and over. but i do enjoy experimenting with them!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not really - though i did write a dragon break fic once and asked a few other writer friends to lend me their characters for it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?  

nope! would be cool!

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

also not really, but for that same dragon break fic i had those writer friends write scenes and brainstorm with me to fit everything together! so in a way, sort of :)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

god....would it make sense to say even though i write, i'm not very active in fandoms? i've never really considered myself well and truly a PART of a fandom (aside from skyrim), just someone who likes to orbit the fandom and extract ideas from the source content. so i don't have many fandom/canon ships i like. can i say my own characters instead??? if so. my ldb/miraak 10000000%

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

hmm....well, it was arms of chaos before i gave up and deleted it. i have two longstanding WIPs (jojo fic and miguel fic) but i'm in love with their content and ideas, so i do have full intentions to finish them both! might just take a while

16. What are your writing strengths?

i would say putting emotion and description into my work. i LOVE trying to perfectly capture emotions as i feel them, even if that sometimes means the way they get written can be unorthodox. and, ofc, im obsessed with describing stuff all. the. time.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

description is a double edged sword LMAO😭 sometimes (most times) i go way too overboard or in depth. i also have a hard time writing kids 💀 and am not the best at writing normal fluff, i always need some kind of emotion or drama or problem/underlying plot to latch onto. i really wish i was, bc then i could write the cyrodiil vacation fic i've been dreaming of for two years

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

supporter! i do it occasionally with miraak and tharya. the original shōgun miniseries from i think the 80s is what first showed me that not all dialogue needs to be understood by the audience - in fact, it can be a powerful plot device when it isn't. so i'm a big fan of untranslated dialogue (in moderation) when it serves a purpose. otherwise i just denote the dialogue is in a different language after writing it in english.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

god....probably transformers (i've gotten over that shame and am now in love w transformers again)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

i often say revenant because it is in a way my crowning glory. but it's also stuck in my old style of writing (which is not bad, just less matured imo, and more flighty). but revenant is probably my fav ever content for a fic, it's something i wanted to write for like 4yrs before i did - from the new world with love is the only fic currently completed in my newer, aged wine style, and i really enjoy that one as well!

((but my coming soon fic is probably gonna take the cake whenever it drops))

i'll tag @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @nuwanders @elventhief @nusaran and absolutely leave an open tag for anyone who wants to do it :) tag me so i can see it!

[ow-old-men]

for the ask game: 💞

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

I’m a vibes before literally everything else kind of guy. Especially with fic (but also in my more long form and original stuff) it’s often explicitly crafted around a strong single image and everything else is in service to that

As an example, Home is about Ana kissing Jack’s palm at dusk on a porch surrounded by trees that are both dark and kinda scary, but also comforting? That was the singular moment and imagery that carried that whole little thing and everything else is added to lend weight and atmosphere to what that moment means

It’s often very visual, it’s often based on a specific physical interaction or dialogue snippet and it’s often the culmination of an underlying theme that (I hope) saturates the entire piece. So idk if this counts as an answer but the most important thing for me is always getting to The Thing and painting it and it’s surroundings well enough to do it justice

[blurredout10]

✨💖✨ ask time:

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

💐 Mystery Question 💐

Why am I using flowers? That’s not the question.

What’s your process for coming up with new scenarios and ideas? I know you’ve share a few WIPs and I’m curious what inspires you since some of these ideas feel so unique and inspired.

AHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU ♥️♥️♥️♥️

From this ask.

!SPOILERS!

🍉 - in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

Oh dang. Heavy question.

a lot I guess. most (if not all) of my fics have some weight of underlying struggle that needs to be worked on.

DMD, of course, has reader and her emotional issues, that taunting reminder that she works so intimately with life and death and how her morals teeter from one side to the other. I think the concept of death is far too complicated and not talked about enough, so for personal reasons (in preparation for when I’ll be in the field) I wanna set a healthy mindset in knowing what to do when I do struggle with it.

That, as well as navigating through emotional hypersensitivity was very ✨projection✨ of me. I think the poetic vibe of that fic helps me understand what goes on in my own head, I only properly understand things when they’re explained abstractly.

I (thankfully) haven’t experienced death of a loved one, but I have been around many who have. So some of the character death is relevant for who others have felt. I consider myself to be pretty empathetic (kinda have to be if I’ll work with patients) so truly understanding what others go through is something I wanna permanently incorporate into my way of living.

For RTL, I’d say amnesia has been a sensitive topic for me personally. I had this moment (paired with unwise decisions) and had pretty bad temporary amnesia. Couldn’t remember my name, my age, my family, nor the fact I was sitting in the car in front of my home.

Having that kinda awakening when it subsided was the greatest and most terrifying feeling I’ve ever experienced. Memories overwrite the rest with a ghost of the past and you get smacked in the face that you forgot the face of those you loved.

If I must suffer. Then so must sixty. 🧍🏻‍♀️😌

Cupcake is all mental health issues. I didn’t explore it thoroughly because a topic such as a struggling negative mindset is worth far more than a one-shot. But I do like the concept of Sixty only speaking in code, not really able to voice how he feels or that he needs help.

I do use writing as a method of processing. It helps me reflect into a better person. ♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️

��� - give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🧍🏻‍♀️…no?

🔫🧍🏻‍♀️okay fine.

Erm. Something something. the fact it’s finished? that’s not even true, most of them are finished at least?

OH I do really like the little snippets and poems in DMD. I really like talking like I’m some poet doing a Ted talk. It’s hilarious. But also very exciting. ✨🧍🏻‍♀️✨

💞 - what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Ooooh I have answered this here.

💐 - What's your process for coming up with new scenarios and ideas? | know you've share a few WIPs and I'm curious what inspires you since some of these ideas feel so unique and inspired.

👀👀👀 INTERESTING QUESTION

honestly I do like to just be looking around, going on a walk or out with friends etc, and I like thinking anything could be a fic.

Oh, is that a tree? why not make a fic ‘tree’ centric? you can go all symbolism about a childhood besties to lovers fic as the tree ages; as the leaves die and are reborn, so is their relationship every year. and when it bears fruit, their relationship takes a sweet turn.

There’s symbolism everywhere. Foods. Drinks. The most mundane has the best flavour✨✨ there can be a fic in everything, taking real life examples or reflections help me add a feel to the fic too.

Otherwise… Pinterest. I love making vibe boards. Fic boards. Etc.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SCRUMPTIOUS ASK I LOVE YOU ♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️🫂♥️

[dehydratedpercy]

hey hey hey!! i'm about to finish my umpteenth reread of preserve or raze and i just wanted to shower you with love because you literally cannot imagine how much i adore your fic oh my gods

first off. the characters sir. the characters. i like every single one of them more than in canon and that's saying something because i loved them a lot in the first place

jason grace? absolute perfection. hazel levesque? frank is the most relatable character ever because i too am such a damn simp for her. frank himself? ultimate best boy. and percy? *fanboy sounds intensify* yeah that should be enough of an answer. i love him your honour. nico di angelo? adored him back then adore him now. also long hair in a bun!nico lives rent free in my head. and annabeth? she's one of the only characters i didn't like much in the original books anyway but such kudos to you for writing her denial arc about percy, it was so amazingly written and god. truly all i can offer is admiration

not to mention how much i long to take part in those cuddle parties and movie nights with the gang

also hell yeah lesbian piper and rachel. you were doing god's work fixing the former character's writing tbh

and the plot itself is SO GOOD. like. it's not a coincidence that it can fully hold my autistic ass's attention all the way through even though it's 277k words at this point. it's truly one of the best things i've read and that is saying something because i read A Lot

so. god. thank you so much for this masterpiece!! and please keep going!! this book means more to me than you can imagine

(but ofc, please only do so within your boundaries and while putting yourself first - just in case it wasn't obvious /gen)

i hope you're doing well and that the rest of your day is gonna be great <3

all the best, jay

Hi jay!! This is an old ask, but that is only because it delighted me so much that I wanted to keep it in my ask box for a while to appreciate it.

"first off. the characters sir. the characters. i like every single one of them more than in canon and that's saying something because i loved them a lot in the first place"

YES let's talk characters. Rick did a great job setting up the basics, okay? Okay. He did great. It has been my honor to just EXPAND upon the basics, which, also, were mostly 13 year olds who didn't cuss. But they were SO badass, they really deserved better-- like, idk, to be in their 20s, to have mature relationship drama/hookups, to be even more dramatic and less goody-two-shoes, and yes, of course, to swear up a storm. FRANK DESERVES TO SAY FUCK.

You know those first few chapters of Mark of Athena (told from Annabeth's POV) where she sees Jason acting all regal (and yet still kinda fucked up), she sees Percy acting all buddy buddy with Frank and Hazel (and it makes her feel nervous/worried), she interacts with Reyna (and there's this weird underlying tension)? And its generally just about... two cultures combining and problem solving together and a bunch of characters we love acting hesitant around each other because they don't know who's a threat and who's not? Well, PoR was VERY inspired by those chapters. I read those chapters and went "You know what would be nice? 250k words of this" and then thats what I spent the next three years writing.

"jason grace? absolute perfection. hazel levesque? frank is the most relatable character ever because i too am such a damn simp for her. frank himself? ultimate best boy. and percy? *fanboy sounds intensify* yeah that should be enough of an answer. i love him your honour. nico di angelo? adored him back then adore him now. also long hair in a bun!nico lives rent free in my head. and annabeth? she's one of the only characters i didn't like much in the original books anyway but such kudos to you for writing her denial arc about percy, it was so amazingly written and god. truly all i can offer is admiration"

Hazel is chill but also lowkey magical and wonderful. Frank is 100% right to feel such strong admiration of her. And yes, Frank is DEFINITELY the best boy, and not only because he turns into a very cute pug. PERCY. Love of my life, waterer of my crops.

"and annabeth? she's one of the only characters i didn't like much in the original books anyway but such kudos to you for writing her denial arc about percy, it was so amazingly written and god. truly all i can offer is admiration"

Okay, the Annabeth thing is so interesting because I've heard a LOT of people say they didn't like her in the books?? Which shocks me, because I thought she was great. I really projected heavily onto Percy, but I liked Annabeth and their relationship a lot. I think fanon Annabeth gets a little messy, so maybe the issue is that people struggle when figuring out how to interpret her-- they either see her as really basic, or really controlling and mean. Personally, I think Annabeth is a lot more than either of those things: she's the type of person who's in touch with her emotions, but is constantly fighting between logic and emotions, deciding what is the smartest thing to do versus what is the thing she is most called to do. The people surrounding her at camp pigeonhole her into being logical, because "Annabeth wouldn't do something irrational" "Annabeth is smart, she should act like it" "Annabeth should always think things through". That's why she works so well with percy-- he DOESN'T think things through, he totally flies by the seat of his pants and acts on his emotions every time, even when its going to fuck him up. Percy shows Annabeth that it's okay to act emotionally instead of rationally-- that you can still get places that way. Annabeth lived a life where everyone else was holding her back, and then met Percy, and Percy was one of the first people who didn't try to hold her back. If anything, he encouraged her to push further, yell louder, and just-- be more.

So yeah. I do, genuinely, love Percabeth. And I'm glad this fic has made you appreciate them-- or at least Annabeth-- more ;)

"not to mention how much i long to take part in those cuddle parties and movie nights with the gang"

HELL!!!! YEAH!!!!

"also hell yeah lesbian piper and rachel. you were doing god's work fixing the former character's writing tbh"

THANK!!!! YOU!!!!! Look all I'm saying is. Piper and Rachel should've been canon. Piper's SUCH a hippie. The way she dresses, the way she thinks-- yes. She needs, NEEDS, an artist girlfriend. And Rachel-- UGH, you don't understand, she wants Piper so bad. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

Should've been canon, I'm telling you.

"and the plot itself is SO GOOD. like. it's not a coincidence that it can fully hold my autistic ass's attention all the way through even though it's 277k words at this point. it's truly one of the best things i've read and that is saying something because i read A Lot"

I'm honored 😭🥰 The true miracle is that it held my autistic ass's attention for long enough to write that much in the first place, holy shit. This was a special interest to rival God. I have really, really loved writing it though, so I'm glad you've enjoyed it so much :') ❤️❤️❤️

"so. god. thank you so much for this masterpiece!! and please keep going!! this book means more to me than you can imagine"

🥰🥰🥰 Thank you!! And good news for you, these upcoming days/weeks I will be writing the remaining chapters and continuing/finishing this story! My current job gives me a LOT of free time so I think it's only right that I use it to give PoR the conclusion it deserves.

Thanks so much for the ask and all the love. I wish you wonderful reading and a wonderful day as well!

-Atlas

[zerolostwalks]

📓

Hey anon!! Thanks for the ask!!

So let me talk to you about The Host AU I developed for this small ficlet I wrote. Because I HIGHLY doubt I will ever write a full fledged fic for this one but I do have ideas and thoughts. . .Like a LOT of ideas and thoughts. 

I broke it down into Casting thoughts and Plot Point thoughts found below the cut (due to length)

Send me a book to hear about a fic idea I may never write

'Casting’:

So for the ficlet I wrote I casted based on personalities and already existing dynamics and who would be most likely to fit 

Really the hardest call was Melanie/Wanda and that casting decision was solely based on personality.

So with that in mind Carrie filled the role of Melanie. They’re both hard working fighters full of snark and sass. 

Julie was then slotted into Wanda’s role because they are both self-sacrificing(would do anything for the ones they love), struggle just a little bit on identity and self-image, generally polite but not afraid to stand up for themselves or more importantly what they care about.

Carlos was always going to fill the role of Jaime. . .Which meant I had to figure out HOW and came up with the following Wilson family back story

Wilson Family: Robert Wilson had Carrie, Ray Molina had Carlos, both lost their wives and remarried while Carrie and Carlos were relatively young. Trevor Wilson is Carrie’s Uncle, Bobby Shaw is his son-Carrie’s Cousin (It’s a Wilson family tradition to name the eldest son’s Robert, which is why he goes by Bobby, he also has his Mom’s last name)

Trevor then went on to fill the role of Jeb.

Which leads us to the Jared and Ian casting. And while there is an underlying double romance thing happening in the ficlet(and story in my head), I wanted to try and shift it to be more blatantly found family. 

As such Jared and Ian from the book kind of get split up between a few folks(this MAINLY impacts Plot Point thoughts)

Nick and Bobby take up the bulk of Jared’s side of things. Nick 100% covers the romance aspect.

Reggie, Luke, and Alex cover the Ian side of things. Reggie (and Luke?) covers the romance aspect. (There also may have been some casting bias due to the fact Ian is described as pale, blue-eyed, and dark haired-snow, ink, and sapphires).

Willie and Flynn would take up some of the more prominent additional characters.

Caleb took me a bit but I keep going back to wanting him to fill Doc’s role. Although he’d make a GREAT seeker fill in.

For the role of Kyle I invented a brother for Reggie. I KNOW he has other brothers floating around but I was NOT about to make any of them super violent. Also I thought it’d be fun to lean into the Peters’ are Elton John fans headcanon and name this new brother Elton or Kenneth. 

‘Plot Points’:

If I were to have written this I would probably skip over or rush a lot of the pre-desert stuff

As such I have it planned that Julie/Carrie gets lost in the desert looking for Trevor’s hide out, passes out and then Nick, along with Alex and Reggie, go out to get her. Upon opening her eyes, Nick basically throws her away from him which leads to her hitting her head HARD against a rock and passing out AGAIN.

When Julie/Carrie wakes up, they’re already tucked away in the storage area hole. Nick, Bobby, and Reggie are having a HEATED discussion because they’re ALL a little overwhelmed by the whole thing:

Bobby: What the hell are we doing Nick?

Nick: I don’t know I just I

Bobby: What are you thinking What’s Trevor going to say?

Reggie(though Julie doesn’t know his name yet): Alex and Luke went to get him (and doc?).

Then Elton/Kenneth shows up with a small mob of very angry people. Julie/Carrie do the whole ‘don’t hurt him’ shielding thing throwing themselves in front of NIck and Bobby(kinda Reggie by virtue of how everyone is set up). Big fight ensues, Julie/Carrie gets knocked around a bit, and then Trevor shows up with the gun and stops the whole fiasco

Reggie curled in on himself: This is so messed up

Trevor ”Why don’t you boys go get yourselves something to eat, I’ll stay with her.”

Nick: Shouldn’t we…what about…

Trevor: Seems to me you boys may be feeling a tad conflicted over the matter, take some time to think on it. 

Alex: Think on what, exactly?

Trevor: You brought her into my home, You decided to keep her here rather than take her to Doc. What happens next is up to.

Luke: Wait, us? Like all of us?

Trevor: A couple of you may have a larger vote than the others by virtue of relations and kinship, but yes, all of you.

Reggie sounding nauseous: Oh my god.

Then after seeing Julie flinch at something: This is beyond messed up

In case it wasn’t obvious, witnessing that whole thing with Julie/Carrie would THOUROUGHLY fuck with Reggie’s head. Because logically he gets the whole parasite alien thing, he gets that from the human perspective it’s a whole war and he’s on the losing side. In all other regards he just saw a girl nearly get beat to death and it’s very triggering. 

So after Trevor bestows the decision on the boys (probably because he picked up on how Nick was trying to avoid HAVING to make a decision). Nick distances himself from Julie/Carrie unsure what to do. Bobby takes over the bulk over Julie/Carrie watch but in his mind Carrie is already dead anyway, why bother keeping Julie. Luke and Alex conceded they’ll follow whatever decision Bobby/Nick make and also avoid Julie/Carrie.

Reggie is the only other one that even checks up on Julie/Carrie. He doesn’t know what to think because of all the aforementioned. He can’t wrap his head around WHY if the alien is supposed to be out for the elimination of humankind it would use itself as a shield to protect said humans. 

Trevor would eventually send Nick, Bobby, (Alex or Luke), Elton/Kenneth, and a couple others to go do the supply raid thing. Which would lead to a similar Trevor slowly getting Julie/Carrie involved in the community by having her help around the caves, with Reggie and Alex or Luke, tagging along.

Some noticeable differences would be that Julie(once she’s moderately comfortable) starts humming under her breath as she works. Eventually Reggie asks her about it and she goes quiet again trying to not draw attention to herself. Reggie apologizes and explains he doesn’t mind her humming; he was just curious.

Another difference is unlike in the book where everyone just lets Wanda never take a break, Reggie (or if he’s the one who stays behind Luke) finds out she’s been working non stop and force her to hang out with them (Reggie, Willie, Flynn). 

 Carlos of course is unavoidable in all this but that’s probably going to follow similar Jaime story beats anyway.

In the case of what would be the “Carlos gets sick and Julie gets snuck out to get meds” plot point Bobby, would be the one doing the whole sneak Julie out of the caves, while Nick went and got the Jeep and did the driving. Avoiding the whole silly let’s try and have you run blindfolded through the desert.

Another major difference would come during the end when they meet up with the other survivors. Ray would be there and recognize Carrie and get reunited with his family.

.

….I think that’s about all I have when it comes to plot point thoughts.

If you’ve made it this far, CONGRATS! Thanks for reading!! Have a cookie 🍪

[kitkatt0430]

1, 4, 18, and 21 for the behind the scenes fic game!!

1.) What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

So before I even knew what fanfiction sites were or heard of the term fanfiction, I wrote little stories about Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine from Star Trek Voyager on the old Windows 3.1 that my dad gave me when he got the Windows 95. These weren't shipping fics or anything - I was still pretty young when Voyager started airing. I was... six when the show came out? And it was a couple of years after that he let me have the computer.

Sadly, the computer didn't last long. So the fics I wrote on it were lost when it died. I switched back to writing in notebooks... but I didn't write long form a lot because it made my hand cramp to write too much. Unfortunately that means that all my old Voyager fics are long gone. (At the time I was upset about losing what I'd been writing... but even more upset about not being able to play the Kings Quest games anymore since they didn't run well on the 95 and what games did run on the 95 I could now only play when dad wasn't using and I had permission to play.)

4.) Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

Sometimes. But more often not. The more outlining I do, the harder it becomes to write because often the story evolves in ways I just can't predict and the outline becomes useless. Or it just makes it too hard for me to write at all because I outlined.

But a sort of generalized outline can help too, sort of like as a bookmark when I need to set aside a WiP to pick up later. It gives me a better idea, when I pick it back up to work on, of where I was at with the story and what my plans for it were. They're also useful for when I have an idea that doesn't really work because I can look over the outline and retool it into something else down the line. The City on the Hill is a good example of a fic that I took an outline for a massive crossover idea I had years ago, stripped it down to the underlying plotbunny and turned it into something that stands on its own really nicely. (Though I do still want to write some follow ups to it...)

18.) What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Since I've already brought up The City on the Hill in the answer for #4, how about we go with Drax's regeneration scene.

The whole fic itself was retooled from a plot intended to play out later in a series where the Master was hiding not as Professor Yana at the end of time, but as Seifer Almasy from FF8, protected from detection of the Time Lords by the temporal parodox the game is built around. The first 'season' would have been built around Seifer!Master 'waking up' during a Cyberman invasion on his world - they'd have been coming from the moon from a base The Rani had left behind. It would have turned out that the 'draw points' on the world where magic was siphoned from were actually formed of artron energy that dulled the sound of the drums. He'd help deal with the Cybermen and then escape with Fujin (one of Seifer's friends) to seek out the source of the drums and put an end to them over the course of several episodic fics. Honestly, I'm still really like the idea here, but it's been so long since I last played FF8 that my drive to write it kinda... waned. But it might still wind up happening down the road.

The second 'season' involved the Doctor and the Master traveling together and discovering a number of Time Lords had survived the Time War under various circumstances. The Rani would have been the source of the Sorceresses - her body in stasis somewhere (the moon?) while the fob watch had been opened by humans and infected several women. If one Sorceress held too much of the Rani's mind, she'd go a little... mad with power. The Master would have been there for Ianto waking as Drax and there would have been an entirely different crisis going on with Torchwood. The Toymaker would have been revealed to be a Time Lord possessed by... I don't really remember what, exactly but I intended to have the White and Black Guardians involved (which would not make the Doctor happy at all)... That was where a lot of tv shows that I used to be interested in (NCIS: LA for example) were supposed to start tying in.

The plot out of 'season two' for that outlined series (do you see what I mean about outlines? Had a whole 2 or 3 seasons worth of fic ideas and couldn't get any of it written) was Ianto being a Time Lord. It's a plot idea I love and just can't get enough of. So I had to remove the Master because he no longer fit and I wanted to set the fic post season 2 of Torchwood and thus after the year that never happened since those events happened between season 1 and 2 of Torchwood. Can't have a redeemed version of the Master if I'm using canon up to that point, after all. I was initially going to keep the aliens I'd planned from the outline and tease the Rani as a future villain, but the plot with the Axons was convoluted and was meant to be a nod to the Master's past. The whole thing took away from it being Ianto's story, so the Axons got scrapped too.

That was when I started looking at the Rani as the main villain, which worked very well once I started spinning that idea in my head. I did actually have a version of the scenes where Drax is lured to the Earth by Rani and getting forcibly regenerated already written. It needed to be reworked for the new version of the plot but the bones of it remained. I split it into several scenes, becoming the first part of each chapter - Drax and the Rani meeting up on Earth, the Rani's plan involving Strange Matter and attempting to convince Drax to build her a version of Mentalis to manipulate Strange Matter for her, the Rani deciding Drax would be more cooperative as a child, forcing him to regenerate while trapped in a Chameleon arch, Drax calling her a bitch... it's very different in the final version, but all those plot points are there in the original prologue I'd written. I just moved the Rani from being a greater scope villain to being the main problem, allowing the focus of the 'present day' setting to be on Ianto's hidden identity as Drax.

I really liked the idea of weaving in older Doctor Who canon with the new canon, which was a heavy feature of the series I'd outlined, and I do want to repurpose a lot of those plot ideas I had into stories eventually. So who knows, maybe I'll eventually write an entire fic with Seifer Almasy as the Master after all. But some of those ideas may wind up as a continuation of The City on the Hill instead. I'm still particularly fond of the plot I called 'The Blow Fish Fiasco' which was meant to be a Torchwood story about Ianto and the rest of the team settling in with the knowledge he's actually a Time Lord. Mostly intended to be a silly fic involving a revenge plot over the death of the blow fish alien in the Torchwood S2 premiere.

21.) What is the one fic that got away?

Well, there's that Seifer Almasy as the Master series. But since I still have hopes of some of that making it into fic form one way or another, I'll talk about something else instead.

For The Knights of the Old Republic games, I had an idea for remixing the plots of the two games so that both Revan and the Exile's plots were playing out simultaneously. Instead of being brainwashed by the jedi, Darth Revan would be have been put in carbonite by Darth Malak in case he ever needed her again (female!Revan, though I think if I wrote it now I'm might go with canonical male!Revan or have Revan as non-binary) but of course thanks to the war she wound up on a ship that crash lands in Kashyyyk, so she winds up waking up with amnesia and Jolee Bindo watching over her. Meanwhile the Jedi recall The Exile, who has been working with Atton since a few months since he defected from the Sith. Since Malak deposed Revan, several other Sith Lords have been popping up - specifically a certain three from the second game - and the war has gotten even more chaotic as a result.

It's still an interesting idea to me, but I could never get the pieces to fit right and eventually I just kinda gave up on it. And then I lost the file I had with bits and pieces already written or otherwise outlined. Or I deleted it? I might have deleted it so that it would stop bothering me when I saw the file. Honestly I was pretty frustrated with the whole thing refusing to come together and it came back whenever I opened the file, so there's a good chance I just got rid of it for my own peace of mind.

Even if I had the file still... I don't really think I'd ever put any effort into rewriting it or trying to finish any of it. And I don't think I'll try to restart a new file for it (I mean... I can't say never, but...) because while it's an interesting idea, I'm not really as invested in the KotOR games as I used to be. Not the way I still am with something like Doctor Who or the Flash.

[kidflashimpulse]

the recent Dark Crisis issues have got Bart SO wrong in one specific way imo. Bart wants credit from his friends and family, but he doesn't really give two shits what anyone else thinks of him. the idea that all he's ever wanted is to be noticed? to have FANS? to be next in line as the Flash? that's literally his 00s era discount Wally West characterization all over again. Bart being changed from canonically HATING excessive attention to actively craving it? that was NEVER earned

THIS ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️ THIS x 1000000000 omg u nailed exactly WHY as a bart fan his YJ DC characterisation infuriates me so much !!!

“that's literally his 00s era discount Wally West characterization all over again” like i felt this in my bones LOL

it’s the type of bad writing that is among the biggest bart crimes out there no joke like, no disrespect to Wally the guy has his own thing going on and it works for him but the whole thing that i’ve always found important to bart is that whilst they share similarities he is largely different from the three generations of Flash’s before him, like significantly and has his own thing going on with his own path and these differences are his strengths and what give him his own set of personal values and priorities (like what u mentioned with how he feels about getting attention) Sure, within his family he always had the pressure of following in all the other flash’s footsteps but that’s never stopped him to do his own thing.

The moment ppl treat him like wally jr (which is so crazy how recurring it has been in recent works, like WFA?? YJDC??) the series becomes garbage to me 😂 doesn’t mean there arnt parts of it i don’t enjoy like stuff regarding other characters or plot, but in terms of how it fares as a bart story i drop it like a hot potato lol and that also roughly summarises how my experience with his titans run is and a lot of his 00s issues onwards which is a shame and with how big social media is with fans, it’s ridiculous how it’s still happening today, like come on…

There are three generations of white guys before him, all great guys in their own way, all very similar especially in their values as heroes, it’s almost appallingly ridiculous to then treat him like another copy and paste when it’s a fact for literally any family out there that with each generation more differences arise that reflect the social consciousness, writing bart with the same values of guys who are essentially his grandparents/parents/uncles is absurd. It would make sense if they were a consistent role in his life since birth but they weren’t/aren’t, he also has a drastically different background to them too which just compounds to how dumb it is to write him as wally 2.0.

anyway, moment of self promo i kinda very superficially/roughly explore this whole thing of generational legacies in an upcoming chapter (it’s still in the drafts stage btw but it’s WIP which is smn lol) of my latest fic AAIT/it’s a lowkey underlying theme in it already. I knw ppl in DC social media have their mixed feelings regarding YJA but as a bart fan it’s a refreshing piece of media in how they treat him especially with how he ties in to the bigger picture of things, so I enjoy it and think about it a lot.

Also why despite peoples common grievances with Bendis’ YJ, i also enjoyed it a lot. Sure I get some of the criticism where they say it regressed some characters in a way, but I always felt like it was a very much needed soft reset of things that lent room to a lot of potential for all these characters to develop and grow in a fresh new way. The expansive cast of characters was also a good direction of comics YJ too that i think was needed. So YJ 19, I see u !!! lol and YJDC ur just the worst thing ever lol sorry !!