#but like you're really great; a real gem!

[racingliners]

<3🍓🍓🍓

Gosh your edits man... they should be hung in the Louvre. You're so talented I'm genuinely in awe of everything you post, not just because of the quality but also your versatility in being able to make lots of different styles of things. (I still can't believe you both followed me back and have stuck around like you're very much the Cool Mutual™️ to me).

mutuals send me a 🍓 and I'll complement u!

[fixyourwritinghabits]

No Such Thing As Filler

Okay, so yes, this is another post based on something I saw that irritated me, but it seems like this idea keeps coming up, so I need y'all to internalize this. There is no such thing as filler in good writing. None. Do not approach your work thinking you have to fill space in a story, I will beat you with this wiffle bat. Don't ask me where I got the wiffle bat. Don't even worry about it.

The idea of filler comes from a very particular place - when an anime or TV show has to fit in a certain number of episodes, but doesn't have enough content (hasn't caught up with the manga, the source material isn't long enough, etc) to cover those episodes. An episode has to be written, but the characters can't really progress, and so are given something else to do. Many a trope has come from these episodes, and they're sometimes necessary. Filler in this context is something that makes sense.

The dark side of filler is the idea that you need some space between Big Event 1 and Big Event 2 in your story, therefore you need throw anything in there to take up space and make your word count. This is a mistake I've made and I've seen plenty of other writers do it too, but it's a huge waste of your time. You do need something between those big action scenes, but you should always be writing to accomplish something.

Instead of thinking of that writing as filler, try to approach it with three things in mind:

Move Forward With Character Development and Backstory - Your characters barely survived a huge gunfight, and they won't encounter the big bad again for another few chapters. How do your characters decompress from that gunfight, and what does that say about them? Did a cocky character go in guns blazing, only to be deeply shaken by how a real fight works? Did that fight spark a moment of deep trauma for the main character that they have to reflect on afterwards?

Filling this space with meaningless scenes is a huge waste of opportunity. Think about how to dive deeper into your characters.

Move Forward With Plot and Subplot Development - The bad guy beat the heroes to the stolen gem, but they left behind a clue to why they want it. However that clue could reveal some painful truths about the protagonist's beloved great aunt... Carmen Sandiego???

A major goal following a big action scene is having the characters figure out what to do with what they've learned and what to do next. It's where romance subplots or secret relative subplots make progress, when truths are revealed and next steps are taken. You can absolutely do this in any setting - a flirty conversation while at the battling cages, a tense moment of feelings while hunting down a wayward chicken - but your main goal is making progress for both the characters and plot.

Move Forward With Worldbuilding - Worldbuilding has it challenges, believe me. You don't want to write a chapter on how an airship works only to have to cut it later. But you should still try to flesh out your world, and you should do so with the perspective of how to use that worldbuilding to your benefit. Maybe a critical scene hinges on the main characters knowing how that airship works, or that lake your main character often stares at is the setting of the big Act 3 Boat Battle. The weather can play into both perspective and emotions. Knowing what the main character's house and car looks like can reflect a lot on their personal character or backstory.

When you're struggling with a scene or a chapter, rather than writing filler, take a few steps back and think. What can you establish with your worldbuilding? What can you reveal about your characters through their dialogue and actions? What subplot could you explore or add in these between moments?

Filler from a fandom perspective - Now let me make this clear - if you're writing a fanfic just to have a cute moment between the characters you like, or you really want to force everyone to do that weird Twilight baseball scene, that's fine. You don't need a grand goal to achieve for every story, there's no need to justify your fanwork in any way other than you wanted to do it.

But I'd also argue fanwork doesn't fall under the filler label either - something you create, be it a character snapshot or a 'what if the gang meets Slenderman' parody, isn't taking up meaningless space. It's something fun you did that you and others enjoy, and there's nothing wasteful or pointless about that.

[6toru]

hi! I would be down and to see you write something with Dr. Ratio or Boothill. I was thinking something like hate s£x or dub con. Everything is fine...Have a great day tough either way <3

*ੈ✩ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. boothill x fem!reader, smut (mdni), cyborg fucking (his cöck is real tho), hate fucking, public sex, rough sex, pussy slapping, squirting, degradation (reader gets called whore & slut), explicit language / dirty talk *ੈ✩ 𝐖𝐂. 1.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. thank u for the request anon! please enjoy <3

Now, he knows pretty damn well how strong of a word 'hate' is, and he's pretty damn sure you're the epitome of the one thing he hates — that was the fucking Interastal Peace Corporation. Mission after mission, as if fate is against him, he always manages to cross paths with you; staring up at him teasingly with that coy fucking smile — coming up to him for one reason, and one reason only. He's honestly surprised as to how persistent you are despite his constant circumvents from the IPC's interventions.

"𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋, Boothill." You chime the cowboy's name, making fearless strides towards the cyborg with a piece of paper in your fists, and the other IPC staffs follow suit. Luckily, with his sharp vision, he caught wind of what the contents were in said paper, and of-fucking-course it had to be his wanted poster.

"The hell do you motherfuckers want?" The galactic cowboy raises an eyebrow, staring down at you with a look of scorn plastered across his face.

You tap the wanted poster lightly across his metallic chest, giving him the same coy smile that he's grown to hate. Right, hate. He fucking hates how dry his mouth gets whenever you pull this sort of shit. Just what exactly did you do to tamper with his system? Though, he decides to shrug those useless thoughts off his brain, as he stares down at you with a pointed look in his eyes, and a dry, disinterested chuckle escapes his lips.

"You know what I'm holding in my hand, right? Turns out, you're now wanted for deliberate acts of sabotage against IPC facilities and posing a serious threat to universal public property safety. Got anything to say to that?"

"The IPC deserves all the shit that's coming to 'em," replies Boothill, sparing you a toothy smile laced with venom all whilst adjusting his cowboy hat. You continue to stand your ground, raising an eyebrow towards the male.

"You're wanted," you firmly state, shrugging your shoulders. "Whether you like it or not, you're coming with us. I let it slide multiple times before, but the higher ups are getting rather impatient."

"Give the fuck up, Sapphire or whatever the fuck gem you are. I ain't going anywhere with you IPC shits." The silver-haired man retorts, "I didn't go with you then, and I ain't going with you now."

"If ya keep persisting..." He digs a hand inside his pocket, slowly drawing out his gun. "Then, I challenge ya to a duel. if I win, you gotta let me go again. how's that sound?"

Immediately, your henchmen draws out their weapons. You raise a hand up, signalling the men to lower their weapons. Heaving a sigh of chagrin, you roll your eyes. Crossing your arms, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fine, Cowboy. I'll entertain you one last time."

"If fighting's what you really want, then let's duel." You say, drawing out your weapon. "Though, don't blame me for what's about to come next. I won't go easy on you this time."

The exact words you had uttered are immediately shoved back down your throat when you find yourself pressed against the cool, brick walls along the isolated alleyway; both your weapons are splayed across the concrete, and your little mewls of wanton are muffled by the surprisingly soft plush of his lips. He bites down your lips softly, though it's enough to draw a small amount of blood due to his sharp canines.

"Hey, hey. Don't you care about your little henchmen hearing those dirty noises you're makin' right now, sweetheart?" Comments Boothill, and it's almost as if he's sneering at you – only, if it isn't for the way your walls clench around him so deliciously; making him nearly just as fucked out as you are.

Each rock of his hips sends you closer, and closer to cloud nine. You didn't know exactly how your due transitioned into fucking, but you're too fucked out to even care. The lines between that of hatred and arousal has long since been blurred.

He's supposed to hate you. For god's sake, you're part of the corporate he fucking despises — the very same corporate that reignited his need for revenge and destruction; the very reason as to why he became the way he is now. You're in the fuckin' IPC, but for fuck's sake! But, there's simply no denying that he's getting immensely high off of your pussy, and he can't bring himself to stop. Oh, how he loves the way he can easily wipe that coy smile off your face, only for it to be replaced with that of desperation and pure ecstasy.

"O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck... Ah! Y-You're so f-fucking deep!" You stammer out, and when he resumes his relentless pace — your lips immediately latch onto his neck, biting at the cool metal plate that coats his flesh. If he continues to fuck you at this pace, you're convinced he's going to destroy you. With the way he's fucking you, it's beyond human.

"Where'd all that venom of yours go? Hm?" Boothill hums against your lips, swiping his tongue along the outlines of your lips; coating his tongue in crimson. "Ya told me moments before you wouldn't go easy on me. Be honest, you wanted this all this time."

With one strong thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, and your body jolts forward. A sharp, pathetic yelp escapes your lips as your hands immediately reach towards his shoulders for support. Albeit, as pathetic as you appear beneath his larger frame, shocks of arousal travels straight down to his cock, so much that it almost becomes sore. It almost makes him want to fuck you with thrice the fervour.

A shit-eating grin begins to tug at the corners of his lips, and maybe you would have smacked it off if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s fucking the living shit out of you.

"You dirty fuckin' slut," hisses the male in between staggered thrusts, "can't even deny it too, huh? Hah— Wonder what your higher ups are goin' to think once they realize that their little IPC agent is nothin' more than a cock hungry slut for the wanted guy on the poster."

"Mm — Fuck, fuck. Ngh." You're barely coherent with your words, the climb to your release is inching closer, and closer.

A sharp sting emanates from your swollen cunt, and Boothill repeats the motion once more — placing light, yet firm smacks across your sensitive clit all whilst thrusting his cock inside yours like he's a fucking madman. He clenches his jaw, his brows furrowed as he relishes in the way your pussy squeezes on his cock like a vice.

"Answer me, slut." He orders, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he licks a long strip along your collarbone to your jaw. Without thinking, you lean your head back, giving the cyborg male more access to the spot. Waves of pleasure hits you like a truck when you reach your high for the second time, your juices spraying all over his cock and abdomen along with a shaky moan that slips past your lips.

"F-Fuck you," you manage to gasp out, sending him a death glare following his cruel ministrations. "Y-You... Mmh– You're so fuckin' mean..! Ah!"

"You're sayin' all that, but your pussy's beggin' me to stay." He rasps, his low, baritone voice hitching at every thrust he ruts into you; the little groans that falls past his lips effortlessly inches you closer and closer to your release, and the volume of your moans merely increases.

"Shiiiit," the word rolls down his tongue, his mouth hung open as he revels in the lewd sight before him. "You love bein' fucked by a cyborg man that bad, hm?"

Clenching his jaw and furrowing his brows, the male hoists you up in the air in one swift movement; anchoring your legs with his herculean arms, and when he thrusts his hips back into yours, eliciting a loud, uncontrollable squeak to fall past your lips. You didn't expect him to reach deeper, but he fully surpasses your expectations. Trembling beneath his touches, you swear you're this close to coming for the third time.

"Admit it, sweetheart. You lost." Boothill hums, though his breathing remains hitched – perhaps, even more so with each thrust he plummets into you.

"Shut up," you retort, and a small moan follows, and you fail to realize the small beads of saliva trailing down your lips; viscous like honey. "T-This wasn't... Mmm... part of the duel."

Shit. The sight's enough to get his dick twitching, growing more and more desperate for release.

"Ya do realize how slutty and pathetic you're lookin' like right now?" He huffs out, a guttural chuckle rumbles from his throat. "Besides – Hah, fuck. You think you can still fight right after I'm done with you?"

You bite your lip at his words, "What if I don't wanna?"

"Say it," orders Boothill, "admit I won, and I'll give you exactly what you've always wanted. If not, I'm gonna leave you high and dry, and I have no problem doin' that."

He eventually slows down with his pace, and his eyes slowly trail down your face; relishing in the way your face scrunches in pure ecstasy, your lips quivering as you attempt to mask your strong dismay at his words.

"You asshole..."

Your fingers travel up towards the back of his scalp, running your digits through his silver locks before giving them a harsh tug; eliciting a harsh hiss from your supposed nemesis. "The fuck was that for—?"

"D-Don't you dare fucking stop, Boothill." You hiss at him, cutting him off. It almost sounds pathetic, nearly coming off as a sob as you desperately rock your hips closer to his. Tears are stinging at the corners of your eyes as you begin to ramble off. "Fine, you fuckin' win! I don't care anymore, just make me come!"

Despite being stuffed full with his dick, you're still aching for more. Boothill nearly cums at the sight, but with the little self-control that remains within him, he relents.

"What about the higher ups?" He teases you, his warm breath fanning over your ears before he begins to nibble on the skin with his sharp canines. "Didn't you say they were... rather impatient?"

"I'll..." You try to utter, but another moan threatens to slip past your lips and you gulp, breathing shakily. "Mmm... I'll tell them to be more patient."

"Good girl," he praises you, digging his fingers deeper into the plush of your ass, "just exactly what I wanted to fuckin' hear."

"Fuck," you sob, "Just fuckin' give it to me, 'm so, so close. Please."

"Oh, don't you worry." Boothill hums at you, grinning. "I'll reward you generously."

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

[luvstappen]

girl i freaking love your series! srsly can't get enough! while we wait for the new part; do you have lando writers you love or fics you can recommend!? i trust your judgment <3

omg thank you so much, that means the world to me!!! 🥹💖 you're the sweetest!!!

not gonna lie, it's a little embarrassing how quickly i RAN to my old tumblr account to check my likes for this! turns out, i mostly read angst and smut (very humbling).

anyway, i've put together a little list of my favourite f1 fics! these are primarily the ones i still think about daily or can instantly recall off the top of my head.

please note that most of these fics are 18+ !!! i tried to include as few smutty fics as possible but honestly, some of these are just too good to leave out. also, i threw in a mix of other drivers too because there are sooo many great fics out there!

not all of these series are finished, though! and honestly, pretty much everything by these authors is worth checking out.

Lando Norris

it's a match (SMAU series) – my favourite!!! honestly, everything by this author is too good (the cat sitter series is also worth mentioning... see below!!!!!)

in a galaxy far, far away (SMAU series) – love love love this one!!!! such a classic and really well-made. it's star wars themed (and again, everything by this author is worth checking out!)

everything is papaya? (SMAU) – this is so messy and just so good!

focal point (series) – a really lovely college!au series, feels so real and sweet

monaco kiss .wav (18+ smut!) – changed my brain chemistry forever

puzzle piece – too cute, i'm obsessed

lacy – this one was so good but also made me wanna kms... really angsty and painful

selfish (ft. oscar) – literally my first liked fic and honestly, i think it might have inspired INTHAF a little? anyway, I loved it!!!! amazing, messy and angsty (i can't help myself)

the prophecy (SMAU series) – just finished this and it was adorable!

Oscar Piastri

strangers (18+) – the way i will NEVER stop recommending this. the writing is perfect, and honestly, everything by this author is worth reading!

matchmaker (SMAU) – such a cute and wholesome read

obsessed (SMAU) – this was so fun to read!!!!

last christmas (SMAU) – beautiful and heartwarming. i'm sat

Max Verstappen (yes I'm doing that)

strawberry wine (series) – AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! so well-written and perfect and also emotional? i swear this is amazing

for what it's worth (series) – this is so funny and just chef's kiss

midnights (series) – beautiful but also angsty and has alternate endings!

the cat sitter (SMAU series) – hilarious perfect amazing. a must read classic for me <3 this was the story that made me fall in love with the smau format

yuck! (SMAU series) – another gem i loved sm

Honourable mentions

fucked-up little thrill / charles leclerc (18+ smut!) – this one had me crying screaming throwing up i swear

blue moon hotel / george russell (18+ smut!) – i remember finishing it at like 2 am and then staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep because it was all i could think about

eve of destruction / lando x oscar (18+ smut!) – i don't usually read driver x driver but this one was CRAZY good and it completely changed my life (available on AO3)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello hello! Long time follower!

I really like reading all your translations, theories and fanfics! It's really great to be able to read your thoughts about characters and cards because am a f2p so I have a very limited stash of gems to pull lol

So I was thinking about the rrcent jp update and I went back to read some of your work on Scarabia. I'll admit they weren't amongst my favorites before so I haven't paid too much attention to them. I was wondering then about the couple times you've said Jamil is well off? Maybe it's from one of his SSR cards of his home event, but I can't remember where he or maybe Kalim implies that?

That's it, just a silly question thanks so much for all that you do, I love so much all your theories and thoughts about the lore and the cast! Have a good day!

Hdsbskwhsk I’m glad that my blog brings you joy and makes your free to play experience more fun 🤩 Thanks for sticking with me all this time!

As for your question, I’m not actually sure if there's dialogue which explicitly states the Viper family's level of wealth. I couldn't find any when I combed through, so I had to go off of implications and my own interpretations of those. From what I’ve gathered, I see the Vipers as upper middle class, or at least middle class with a LOT of benefits (the benefits being present boost them to upper middle class due to the lifestyle the benefits afford them).

So firstly, I think there's a lot of debate surrounding Jamil's family income. Some fans seem to think that the Vipers must be destitute due to their position as servants and Jamil's disdain for how the Asims throw around their money and influence. However, perceived social status or class does NOT always equate to being low income. There are people irl who are technically "servants" and "hired help" that make a significant salary while working for much wealthier individuals. There is data for bodyguards, private chefs, executive assistants, and skilled nannies who earn six-figure incomes and/or excellent benefits working for celebrities, politicians, businessmen, etc. (Notably, guarding, cooking, scheduling/planning, and generally looking after Kalim are all a part of Jamil's duties.) Real world examples of this include employees of the White House and the British royal family.

Now, that all depends a lot on the type of people the employers are. There are many wealthy families who mistreat their staff and/or don't pay them well. From what I've seen of the Asims though, I definitely feel that this is not the case. To begin with, the Vipers don't just do one task for the Asims, they do a LOT. You're already aware of the constant work Jamil has to do around the clock to keep Kalim safe and satisfied, but his parents must do the same. They're described as experts in hospitality and are frequently hosting and entertaining guests from all over Twisted Wonderland. This is skilled labor, and that demands commiserate pay. Not only that, but Kalim describes his father as someone who is very generous (and the guy has plenty of money to spare). I don’t see why Mr. Asim would purposefully skimp on specifically paying the Vipers.

I would also imagine that the Vipers are afforded other benefits. Jamil has said many times that he has to look or act a certain way, as his behavior/appearance reflects on the family he serves. Therefore, the Asims may provide other things Jamil and the Vipers need to “look good” and to best represent and serve the Asims. This could mean food, clothes, transportation/travel expenses, education (like additional training, manners lessons, certification exams, etc.) all paid for on the Asim family’s coin. Jamil has mentioned that his parents gave him lessons in everything he’d need to know in order to serve Kalim, so this tells his parents are also well-educated and/or were at least able to pay for lessons for Jamil. And these lessons aren’t “normal” lessons either, it includes things like formal bodyguard training (you’d have to pay for this irl) and formal table manners (which most of us aren’t taught unless we seek it out).

We also recently learned in book 7 that the Vipers live on Asim property, which is very luxurious. Jamil states that his family would be on the streets should they lose their place serving the Asims—and this could be interpreted in a very literal sense if we think of as losing the roof over their heads. Yes, it's technically not land or housing that the Vipers own, but it is still free high-class lodging, nonetheless. It is a benefit that is afford to them (among others) because of their job(s), similar to those real life examples I mentioned before. One could make the argument that none of this wealth truly belongs to the Vipers. However, you could also argue that because these benefits come with the job, it technically is theirs as long as they keep their job (which is, in fact, how jobs irl work; if you stop working for an employer then naturally you’ll stop getting the benefits that come with that job eventually). It’s complicated. I suspect that, at the very least, part of the reason why the Vipers don’t want to depart from serving the Asims is because they don’t want to lose the pay and the perks that come with their work.

I want to add that the Vipers’ position also gives them the unique advantage of exposing them to tons of important individuals. They are able to meet and connect with these VIPs when most people could never even dream of meeting them, even if just from the viewpoint of a servant. It’s a similar to Lilia and Silver, who technically are not rich (money-wise) but still have ties with majorly influential people (members of the Draconia royal family).

Obviously, the Vipers still aren’t as rich as the Asims and probably will never be, but I believe they still enjoy a comfortable lifestyle. We never see Jamil worry about money or being short of it. He gives his VDC/SDC earnings away without batting an eye, unlike Deuce (from a single-parent income family) who keeps the money since it would really help out his mom. He doesn’t have to work a ton of odd jobs to make ends meet (unlike Ruggie). But Jamil does haggle and act frugal. I think that behavior comes from not a genuine need but Jamil being mindful and planning ahead to avoid being scammed. He’s shown to be a cautious individual who often is the one putting the breaks on Kalim’s extravagance, so I feel the skill also comes partly from having to be the one to curb his ridiculous spending and bring Kalim down to earth. Jamil is still the type of person who would tell Kalim when he’s buying too much or overdoing things, even when it’s not Jamil’s own money being spent and he knows Kalim can afford it. That’s what leads me to believe his frugalness isn’t necessarily the result of him being low income and “needing” to save. If that were the case, he shouldn’t care if Kalim throws his own money at buying diamond jewelry for all the dorm members as souvenirs.

I think the closest metric we have as a frame of reference for how wealthy Jamil is comes from the Tapis Rouge event. In it, Jamil forks out 500 thaumarks (or 50000 madol) to buy a jacket. He remarks that the price is fairly expensive but good quality so it’s worth it. Whether you consider this an indicator of his low or high wealth is really all relative to what your own perception is. Jamil had also previously remarked that what the Mostro Lounge charges is absurd. In Ruggie’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Azul quotes the price of one soft drink as 4 thaumarks/400 madol. Jamil responds with “Four? Talk about a markup.” It should be noted that the latter example doesn’t mean Jamil cannot afford a drink of that price; he’s complaining about how expensive Azul has made it to capitalize on the high demand. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope I was able to explain myself well. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to express them ^^

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

It's so interesting because lately on AO3 I have been getting a lot more comments on fics that are 2 or 3 years old - which is great. I always encourage people to comment on fics that are older.

But the fics people are commenting on are the ones that are some of my most popular fics of all time, fics that have had time to acquire a lot of kudos and became popular in their respective fandoms because they struck at the right time and used popular tags and buzzwords (not something I did on purpose, just a coincidence).

And I am 100% getting the vibe that these comments are from people who only filter by most popular (or most kudos fics) and it only makes me feel really - gross?

Especially because I have posted two fics so far this year that have gotten 0 comments and I know they are being ignored just because they are newer and have had less time to acquire kudos, so when people filter that way, those fics do not come up.

The quality of my writing is always consistent (if anything, I would say my newer fics are better) but fics from less popular fandoms that will naturally have less traffic are being ignored, and newer fics are being completely ignored in the name of "popular" fics. Fics that are only popular because they are from an intensely large fandom and because I posted them during a time of peak activity for that fandom.

I just always get annoyed when people say that they sort by highest kudos to "get the best fics" - because that is factually incorrect. You are not getting "the best fics", you are getting the fics that have been on the site for the longest, have the most popular tags that appeal to the widest range of people (tags that you might not even like), and fics that just happened to be seen by the most fans - whether it was because the link was posted somewhere else popular and got a lot of traffic or because the fandom was particularly active when it was posted. The fics that have the most kudos happen by pure fucking coincidence, not as a mark of genuine quality of the fic.

If you're not filtering by date, then you're missing out on some real gems that are very old and very new and aren't popular by coincidence.

[the-himawari-otome]

[Shuuen no Virche] Birthday Short Story - Yves

The birthday celebration of a certain handyman

<Original post here>

･ﾟ･:,｡★ translation under the cut ★,｡･:･ﾟ

Mathis: H-Happy birthday, Yves!

Yves: Thanks, Mathis. And the rest of you guys— I can't believe you went through all the trouble to hold a dinner party just for me...

Adolphe: I mean, you're always helping us out after all. Although... you probably didn't need us to celebrate for you, huh?

Yves: Hey, that's not true. I'm super happy about it!

Adolphe: You say that, but...

*Baaam...*

Ankou: You can't help that thought when you see all the gifts from the townspeople piled up in the garden...

Lucas: Indeed. The moment I saw that huge amount of boxes, I thought you might be moving homes...

Hugo: Haha. He's a real natural charmer, isn't he?

Scien: Well, you won't be running low on supplies for a while.

Yves: Gosh, while I'm grateful for the gifts from the neighbourhood... it feels especially nice being celebrated by my precious friends.

Ankou: ...I see. Our princess and the others should be arriving shortly as well. Please enjoy today's party to your heart's content.

Lucas: I must say, it was surprising that Scien came to participate in the festivities.

Scien: Dahut was nagging me to bring over a birthday gift. I decided to have a drink and a bite to eat while I was at it.

Hugo: Isn't that what the person being hosted should say, not the host themselves...?

Yves: Now, now. Don't sweat the details. 'Tis the occasion, so let's all enjoy it together.

Mathis: That's right! I helped with the cooking too!

Mathis: Ah, but before that... Wouldn't it be better to give him his gifts first?

Lucas: Yes, good point. More guests will be coming later. Let's give him ours first, shall we?

Yves: Huh, you even brought presents? That's too much...

Hugo: Alright, I'll go first. —Happy birthday, partner. Eat this and stay your ridiculously energetic self from tomorrow on.

Yves: Thanks, Hugo. I'll be relying on you too! Is this... a fishbowl? ...And inside is— Woah, there's a fish I've never seen before!

Hugo: It's a big one, right? It's a special catch reeled in by the genius fisher, yours truly.

Yves: It looks like it'll be worth slicing up! I'll cook it up nice and tasty for us.

Hugo: About that. Eat it yourself. Alone. Seriously, by yourself. Down to the last crumb. There's no need to share it with me, got it?

Adolphe: (He's just making sure he doesn't suffer any harm himself...)

Ankou: Now then, as for the gifts from the others—

Lucas: Um. If I am not mistaken, it seems there are ominous sounds and fumes emanating from the gifts all of you are holding...

Adolphe: ...Yours is the same, isn't it?

Scien: It appears all of us had the same idea.

Mathis: I see, everybody brought fresh ingredients that Yves can cook!

Ankou: I-Indeed... However, we also prepared tangible items in addition to the ingredients...

Lucas: Oh my, to think our gifts would overlap to that extent.

Yves: Woah, woahhh...! Is this much okay!? I'm going to happily accept all of it, you know...!?

Adolphe: ...Well, it's fine as long as he's happy. Mine's a whetstone, so you can use it to maintain your sword.

Yves: Great, thanks! ...It really is wonderful to have people who are special to you celebrate your birthday.

Yves: I wonder if it's alright to be this happy. ...Won't God punish me later?

Scien: I won't, so don't worry.

Hugo: Haha. God guaranteed it. Don't fret, Yves.

Yves: ...I see. That's true. I hope I'll be able to continue to spend my birthdays together with everyone I care about.

Yves: And forever with her—who bound me to this fate.

*CLICK*

Yves: ! Hey, come on in. I was just thinking about you. Thanks for coming for my birthday.

Yves: Huh... a present? I see, you also—I appreciate it. ...Can I look inside?

Yves: ...! It's a gorgeous gem— You found it at Marché? And you thought it would suit me?

Yves: ...Thank you, truly... I'm over the moon...!

Yves: I really am blessed with encounters. After all, I was able to meet a girl who's giving me such a wonderful present—

Yves: From the bottom of my heart, I love the happiness I feel for having met you, my hope—

And I pray that in the future that awaits, I will be able to dedicate my first "love" to you...

---

[DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WORK W/O PERMISSION, THANK YOU]

[frostgears]

We Who Serve

"Lookin' good, Coda! Got something for ya," the student mage said, rolling the shimmering violet soul gem between her fingers.

"Heya, Bree," the artificer grunted. "You look, as always, like a teenage delinquent who styles her own hair using alchemical process runoff."

"Well, I'm hardly going to wear an Academy uniform down to this end of the artificers' quarter. And I don't give you shit for wearing the same reagent-spattered leather apron every time I see you."

"It's shop gear, sweetheart. Some of us have to work for a living. And I see your gem, but it better not have a dream-junkie soul in it this time," Coda grouched. "Remember your last bright idea? Remember the one that was convinced she was still dreaming? Remember the repair work when she tried to fly? Turns out a service compulsion built right into your corporeal form doesn't do jack if your mind is so scrambled that you think you're asleep."

"Dream-junkies usually die alone and unremembered, Coda. And nobody, I mean nobody, cares about them once they start using heavily. I'm practically saving lives, right?"

"Sure. Saving lives. So where's this one from?"

"You really wanna know? Thought you promised me not to ask where the souls come from, when we started doing this thing together."

"Bree. I don't want another attempted flight on my hands. Especially not off a balcony and into the middle of the owner's gala for his daughter's debut. Lost a big client there and had to eat the repair bills. No good, get me? Another like that and we're through."

"And you'd get animating souls for your dolls from where, then? But no worries. No worries at all. This one's from far away, and guaranteed worth the juice it took to bring them here." Bree's smug smile suggested repair bills would be the least of anyone's worries this time around.

"How far away?"

"The other side of a summoning circle."

"Bullshit." The artificer folded her powerful gloved arms across her chest. "You told me you looked into that, and it'd take a dozen mages as powerful as your dean to even try."

"Oh, I didn't do the summoning. Someone else did. You see, I just happen to be in the top twelve of my class…"

Coda raised an eyebrow. "You?"

Bree pouted. It was a good pout, a practiced pout; it had been the undoing of several of her classmates. "Do I not look it?"

"Academy uniform or dancehall grunge, I can't imagine you studying; that's the real fork in the mind's eye."

"I do study! I just… study best when I've got something I want to study, that's all! Anyway. So. Here I am, right? Top twelve in my class. Invited to see, for my education, a ritual that takes place at most once a decade: the Calling of a Chosen Hero."

"That time again already?"

"Evil never rests, or so they say. Anyway, it was very impressive. The best archmages in the Kingdom chanting up a hullabaloo around this huge summoning circle carved into a slab of obsidian. Candles. Incense. Wardlights glowing like a solstice tree. And they literally reach outside the boundaries of this world, Coda, and pull a soul from another one. Very heavy shit, very potently executed. Except just as they've got the soul on this side of the boundaries so they can start building a body for them, Archmage Eldreid has a stroke."

"Well, that can't be good."

"Wasn't great. Ritual falls right the fuck apart. The slab shatters and the circle with it. For a moment the combined light of the wardflames is like a stained-glass sun, but I can see the summoned soul glittering naked in the chaos, and, well," she paused and ran her fingers through her multicolored hair, "I keep my soulcatcher on me at all times because it's illegal as hell, right? Can't leave it lying around the dorms. So, me, soulcatcher, soul… my reflexes kinda took over. Next thing I knew, the docents are rushing all us students out of the room so they can get a healer and a fire crew in there."

"Bree, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So here's the final thing," she said, ignoring Coda. "I inquired, as soon as possible, as any nervous teacher's pet would, after the health of Archmage Eldreid and the fate of the Hero. Eldreid's gonna be fine in a few weeks. And the conclusion of the other archmages, or at least the one that could be bothered to talk to us, is that 'the Hero's soul simply returned to its own world', and that they'll have to try the ritual again in a month. Which means I have the soul of a Chosen Hero in my hand, and it's untraceable, Coda. Missing and not from this world. You've heard of what they do. Just imagine how good your next doll is going to be."

The artificer took a moment to process this. Then she nodded. "You're mental. But lucky. Happens I've been working on something special. Have a look with me, Bree."

Coda proudly uncovered a draped figure at the far end of the workshop. The doll glistened, caressed by even the fading afternoon light. Its skin was fine white matte porcelain, its many joints glistening darkly iridescent metal barely visible behind ceramic limbs, and its shape a figure of idealized human perfection that any sculptor would have been proud of. Soft cotton ropes in contrasting black wrapped every limb in complex twisted bindings.

Bree whistled. "Wow."

"A cut above the ones you've seen so far, right?"

"It's gorgeous. If it was ensouled right now, I'd be asking if she was single." The student mage bit her lip. "Wait, why's it all tied up so prettily? Coda, you absolute alleycat, is she not single?"

"Gods, the imagination on you, girl. The ropes are just to hold everything in place on the stand during assembly and storage."

"Is it done?"

"Frame was finished weeks ago, shell last week, but the cosmetic detail work took forever. I attached the last of the hair this morning, installed the eyes — so, yes, I suppose it's done."

"Then let's make it go!"

"Eager to get paid, Bree?"

"No. Well. Yes. Academy studies aren't cheap even on a scholarship. But you showed me this wonder, and now I am entirely believing my own bullshit. You're a godsdamned artist. This soul has to go in this doll, Coda. It's too perfect."

"You get the money on successful ensoulment. As always."

"Tch!"

Bree carefully marked a diagram for ensoulment on the floor, enclosing herself and the stand, then, chanting lines in a guttural voice almost entirely unlike her usual, reached around behind the doll's neck to press the soul gem into a hidden receptacle there. The diagram flared into life, a curtain of green sparks drifting upwards from the shop floor and then vanishing in directions named only by mages.

"—y'glacht nissat ephed, be thou whole and one with yourself, itisc, drah, nyen."

A shiver passed through the doll.

Clearing her throat, the mage said, "It's done," and carefully scuffed the diagram with the toe of her shoe.

It was then that the door exploded, and a blazing silver radiance filled the workshop.

"What the fu—"

"JUSTICE."

Bree and Coda could barely make out the general shape of a skeleton, winged, within a halo of silver light.

It awoke to a very loud voice, a bright light, and a body that couldn't move.

"—CRIME THAT CANNOT BE UNDONE, YET FITTING PUNISHMENT HAS BEEN FOUND FOR BOTH."

Sleep paralysis again? Can I make something move anyway? It tried to flex, found immediate resistance everywhere.

"THE ARTISAN HAS SOILED HER HANDS WITH STOLEN SOULS, BUT THOSE THAT HAVE BEEN STOLEN WALK IN HER BODIES, AND THOSE MUST BE CARED FOR. THE ARTISAN IS BOUND FOR THE TIME BEING TO CREATE NO MORE BODIES BUT ONE, AND ONLY TO SERVICE HER CREATIONS TO THE BEST OF HER ABILITIES AND AT HER OWN EXPENSE. LET HER ATONEMENT BEGIN THUS."

Silver sparks flared from the left. Someone screamed.

"THE MAGE HAS STOLEN SOULS, AN EVEN GREATER TRANSGRESSION. LET HER EXPERIENCE WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE SEVERED FROM MORTAL FLESH AND BOUND TO HER ACCOMPLICE'S WORK. HER FLESH SHALL BE HELD RANSOM, AND HER TASK FOR THE TIME BEING SHALL BE TO SAFEGUARD AND PROTECT HER MOST RECENT VICTIM, UNTIL AND UNLESS SAID VICTIM MAY RELEASE HER FROM SERVICE, SATISFIED. LET HER ATONEMENT BEGIN THUS."

More sparks. A ripping sound, a brief shock in the air as if a taut string had snapped.

Then a hand under its chin, a face that was no face, only shining bones, and a voice that reverberated inside it.

"THIS IS NOT A NIGHTMARE, UNWILLING TRAVELER. WE REGRET THAT YOU CANNOT GO HOME. THE SKEIN OF DESTINY IS TANGLED, BUT JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE HERE. YOU WILL BE WATCHED. GOOD LUCK TO YOU."

Then the silver light was gone.

It still couldn't move.

Later, it heard the sound of bitter laughter. A woman with close-cropped hair wearing shop leathers held a shimmering violet gem in one hand, a scroll and a carved stick in the other. She waved the objects in front of it. "Look what's become of my business partner," she told it. "She'll need a body soon. Like yours, I think. Bree liked yours. You'll help me. You don't have a choice, by the way."

She busied herself with its restraints. When a critical knot was loosened, it suddenly collapsed to the ground. It should have hurt; it didn't. It stood up, taking a proffered hand from the woman in shop leathers.

"Hmm. We should get some clothes on you. Should be a uniform your size in that box over there. Mirror on the left."

It opened the box, held up frilly black and white pieces of cloth, some vaguely recognized.

A dress? But… I'm…

It looked down on unfamiliar curves rendered in ceramic and metal, and collapsed again.

A hand hauled it back to woozy verticality.

"You'll get used to that body soon. Just stand, I guess. I'll put it on you." Hands brushed its side. Fabric dropped over its head and into a snug fit. Ties were tied.

"Better. Mirror."

It walked, slowly but more steady with each step, to the mirror.

A doll looked back at it, wearing the tight-fitting dress and apron of a maid.

It spoke, and its own voice sounded strangely musical to it: "Who am I?"

"Do they not have names where you come from?"

"I don't remember mine."

"Hmm. I'll call you after your design, then. Your name, doll, will be Lyric."

"Lyric."

"Coda," the woman said, indicating herself with a thumb.

It curtsied, feeling that this was somehow the thing to do, and then asked, "Doll?"

"Yep. But like I said, you'll get used to it. Welcome to Coda's." She sighed. "You can start by sweeping up what's left of the door."

It would have time to wonder later why sweeping felt like the right thing to do. Why obeying felt like the right thing to do. How "JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE HERE" had anything to do with chores. But for now, it had the broom. Now was fine. It could stay in now. So it did. □ --- next: We Who Will Not Bow

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam. If you're so inclined, could you recommend a few 'must eat' places in Downtown Chicago? My hotel will be near the Red Line (Grand station) and I'm fine walking a good 10 minutes for awesome food. I'm planning my trip and trying to put together a few food places for lunch and dinner and such. Pizza, burgers, bbq, donuts, steak, sushi..., I'm flexible!

You know, honestly, I don't eat out much anymore so I'm not sure where the best places to get a bite are. I'm going to make some recommendations but they're about to be a mixture of "If you come to Chicago this is somewhere everyone goes" and "This is somewhere Sam personally likes to eat but which you may not go for." :D

So, if you're at Grand, you are pretty much on top of the Weber Kettle Grill. Weber Kettle Grill does GREAT grill food and my parents always want to eat there when they come into town. If you ask to sit at the chef's table, you'll be seated at what looks like a bar, but it also looks all the way down the row of giant indoor grills the chefs use to cook the food. If you want something quieter and less busy they also have a fairly large dining room.

If you want a real Chicago experience, there's a Portillo's pretty close to you (that one's called "Portillo's & Barnelli's"); Portillo's is a local chain that does burgers, dogs, and crucially Italian Beef. Italian Beef is my go-to Chicago food for people who (like me) don't want to eat Deep Dish Pizza. It's a crusty roll filled with shredded braised beef; you can get it with sweet peppers, hot peppers, or no peppers (they might call it "giardinera" which is the local term for the pepper relish they use). If you get it "dipped", once the sandwich is made it's dunked in a flavorful jus before being wrapped up; if you don't like wet bread I'd skip this, but I love it. If you REALLY don't like wet bread, maybe get a Chicago Style hot dog instead. Portillo's is also famous for being The Place Where they make you a milkshake with an entire slice of chocolate cake in it. You can also just get a slice of cake, which is fantastic.

There's also an Al's Italian Beef near you if you want a more local experience. Locals absolutely can and will eat at Portillo's, the food's not better at Al's, it's just a bit more tourist-friendly than Al's tends to be.

If you want that true authentic Chicago deep dish experience (pie crust filled with cheese and then topped with sauce) Pizzeria Uno and Pizzeria Due are very close by; they vie for the dubious honor of having invented the deep dish pizza. I can't recommend it, but if you want it, hit one of those.

If you're not from the midwest and would like to sample a decent approximation of Detroit style deep dish (thick bready crust topped with cheese and then sauce) Jet's Pizza likely delivers to your hotel. I can't recommend going to a Jet's, many of them don't have anywhere to sit and eat, and for a pizza joint they're a bit costly, but it's very good pizza. My Detroit friends say it's a perfectly acceptable pie by their standards.

Volare Ristorante is a nearby hidden gem if you're in the mood for upscale Italian; I really like their pasta, but they are on the pricier end. If you're walking east on Grand to get there, you do have to go under Michigan, and you will likely fear that you will be stabbed and left for dead in this weird underground cavern, but I promise you, it's smelly but safe.

Goddess And The Baker and Beatrix are both good places to pick up breakfast. If you wish to glimpse Hell, the Starbucks Roastery at Michigan and Erie is one of the largest buxes in the country (possibly the world?) and is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE to navigate, but it's certainly an experience.

If you're venturing into the Loop, Russian Tea Time is a fun place to have afternoon tea and the a la carte food is also quite good; they're very close to the Art Institute. There's not much to eat if you're going to the museum campus, and my favorite Greek place closed down, but Minghin Cuisine is a good Chinese place (I've eaten there) and AO Hawaiian Hideout is supposedly some of the best Chinese in the city (I have not eaten there).

If you are craving Chinese, you can also catch the Red Line directly to the Chinatown stop and browse, I've never had a bad meal in Chinatown. When you get off the train, if you go north to the station exit with only stairs, you can exit, look left, and see the "new" Chinatown that's basically an outdoor mall; if you go south to the escalator exit, once you leave turn right and you'll see the big pagoda entrance to "old" Chinatown, which is more shops than restaurants. New Chinatown has some excellent bakeries, and also a Korean fried chicken place, Bonchon, that's extremely good. Usually when I take friends we go to Joy Yee which has a huge menu and also bubble tea.

As a final plug I'll list The Berghoff, which is in the loop (off the Jackson Red Line stop); it's pretty hefty German cuisine, all excellent food, and also is a top notch place to take anyone with gluten issues -- the owners have a kid with a gluten intolerance and the restaurant has an exceptional gluten-free menu with unusually strict protocols to prevent cross-contamination in the kitchen.

And if you want to get a little baked first, you are pretty close to Sunnyside dispensary, which is a very nice dispensary with super friendly people. If you take the Red Line to Roosevelt or are in the area, Grasshopper Club is less expensive, just as friendly, and Black-owned, and they've been my go-to for a couple of months now. At either one you can walk-in to speak to a budtender about what you'd like, or you can preorder online, but be aware that there are limitations on what out-of-staters can purchase. Having sampled most of the gummies out there, I'd recommend Mindy's (any flavor is good but the black cherry is my preferred). Do bring ID, you will be carded.

I hope you enjoy Chicago! If you have more questions feel free to hit me up here or at copperbadge@gmail.com if you'd like to have more of like, a dialogue :) Have fun and eat well!

[alphacentaurinebula]

Fanfic recs - AU edition!

In honour of You're the Bad Guys (E), my Cold War spies AU where Crowley is KGB and Aziraphale is MI6 and they're stationed in 1980s Berlin, I thought I would recommend a few of my favourite AUs.

Half Agony, Half Hope(E) by @gorgeousundertow - a regency romance AU with lots of the real life political unrest, class and privilege all providing a great replacement for the Heaven/Hell Celestial System. The regency period is often portrayed just balls and poshos in empire waistlines, but actually it was a hugely tumultuous period. The disenfranchised classes were demanding better pay, better conditions and the vote, whilst those in power feared any concession would reduce their own power and privilege. The result was some horrific state violence, and some of the most oppressive laws in British history (though there's a lot of competition there...!). It's always nice to see a historical AU that engages with the period so well, and uses it to make Crowley and Aziraphale's romance all the sweeter. One of the only fics I've ever read as a WIP (yes, I still want you to read my WIP, I am a complete hypocrite).

A Love Story with Detective Interruptions (T) by @fremulon - a 1930s AU series (2 works), where Aziraphale is an amateur sleuth in the vein of Miss Marple, exonerating the wrongfully accused (ie, Crowley), and solving house party murders willy nilly. The plots are based on Golden Age of Detective Fiction books (Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Chistie, specifically) and are delightful. The romance is definitely slow burn, but absolutely lovely.

South Downs (E) by @summerofspock - Crowley and Aziraphale star in a historical Bridgerton-esque miniseries, except it's gay. (I would watch the fuck out of that, just saying). Sometimes art mirrors life - sometimes life mirrors art! I love this one and I would legitimately like to watch the TV show they're supposed to be in.

Sit Tight, Take Hold (E) by @nieded - OK this one is not even remotely historical and, like, I hate cars and formula one holds zero interest to me...and yet I INHALED this formula one AU with Crowley and Aziraphale as drivers on opposing teams. Like...I really cared who won...a car race???? Features Gabriel and Sandalphone being true twats, which I must admit I enjoy.

Slow Show (E) by @mia-ugly - And finally, of course, Slow Show. Sure this one is not exactly an undiscovered gem but I still love it and if, in some wild, unreasonable twist of fate you haven't read it, you definitely should!

...plus one last rec - The Leap, by - @friendofcarlottathis is a Destiel fic, not Good Omens. But it is a historical romance AU about Cold War Berlin (in the 1960s, rather than 1980s, and there are no spies, but it is SO excellent for historical detail, especially life in East Germany). And in my opinion you only need to watch a few Castiel and Dean clips on youtube and you're ready to read Destiel AUs. I have only watched a season or so of Supernatural myself 🤷‍♀️

What do you think, have you read any of these? Any favourites? If anyone has other AU's to recommend, especially historical ones, please do!

[ratinayellowbandana]

Not sure if you're still taking imodna prompts but if so, I'd love it if you wrote something for 4. "I just don't want to scare you off" from the November drabble prompt list.

Alternatively, something from the Red colour prompt would be great too! (either 1. or 4.?)

this prompt has been in my inbox for. um. too long. decided to use it to finish an old ficlet and join in on imodnovember (prompt: mud) for a day :)

if you have a prompt you want filled, lmk! can't guarantee I'll do it but I'm really trying to get back into writing. some lists if you need inspiration 1 2

very quick and unedited. little bit of angst little bit of hurt/comfort. ~1.1k

~~~

Laudna wished she could say the fight was over before it began. That they vastly outnumbered their opponents, and the Ruby Vanguard waved the proverbial white flag well before any combat could arise. That the combined forces of the Ashari, Vasselheim, and Whitestone had been enough to make their enemy flee.

Laudna wished she could say she held her own. That she had fought valiantly and fired an eldritch blast at any robed soldier who looked at her with a hint of a sneer. That she and her companions felled hundreds with ease.

Laudna wished she could say this was an easy victory.

She doesn’t know where she is. Somewhere on the outskirts of the real fighting, she thinks, given the shouting in the distance. She doesn’t know where her friends are. They had been split up almost immediately, each swept along in a different current. She can’t see any of them.

How long has it been since she last saw someone she knew? The sun hangs low in the sky, bathing the battlefield in a swath of ruddy orange that casts the armor of the fallen in flame. Little fires scatter across the desert plain like gems strewn between what sparse wind-swept plant life had made its home here.

Imogen had been the last one she saw, her lavender hair billowing around her shoulders as she cast a lighting bolt and carved a hole in the advancing battalion. Ozone crackled and tinged the air with a metallic odor that lingered in Laudna’s nose. Imogen vanished soon after.

An Ashari blade had clung to Laudna’s side in her stead, a lithe half-elf with whom Laudna conspired to wipe out a group of Ruby Vanguard members attempting to enter the fray. The half-elf fell some time later, Laudna snarling over the body, shoulders extending into branches as she clawed at man who killed her companion.

The battle is ongoing, bloody, with heavy casualties on both sides, and Laudna is spent. Her chest heaves, two wicked gashes across her ribs that haven’t stopped oozing dark blood. Her shoulder hangs loose in its socket, the flesh around the joint purpling, and she has yet to pop it back in. She limps to the nearest cover, a sunswept rocky outcropping, and hunches in its shade. A patch of seared skin on her calf stings as it hits the sand.

She takes stock of her injuries, uncorking a healing potion and grimacing at the flavor. Nearby, a man shouts as he parries a blow. The familiar hum of magic singes the air.

Laudna.

Her name burns through her mind, hot and desperate. Afraid. Imogen’s voice, clear.

Near the tower. I’m–

Her message cuts off.

Laudna is running, pounding through the desert, a beast, hunting. Tree trunk limbs make heavy contact with the sand as she swats away an arrow let loose from somewhere to her right. Another hits its mark in the woody shell of her back, and she howls. She lets a fireball loose in the general direction and keeps going. 

The tower is across the field. How had Imogen gotten so far away?

How had Laudna let her?

Her path is clear, friend and foe alike parting for the monstrous tree creature galloping across the sand on all fours. The warmth of the healing potion spurs her on, soreness fading into a mere afterthought. She really ought to thank Orym for insisting she take some of the spares. If she sees him again.

She’s getting closer. The tower looms three hundred feet away. Two hundred.

Where are you? She sends.

She receives no reply.

A throng assembles at the foot of the tower, a shifting sphere of electricity at its center. Imogen is nowhere to be seen. Smoke curls off the sand and wafts into the air. Patches of shrubbery are little more than crisped tinder and ash. Figures lie prone in a sixty-foot radius around the sphere. The ground glistens, the dying sunlight shining off a section of smooth sand ten feet in any direction below the mass. Glass, Laudna realizes. The smell of burnt meat tastes charred on Laudna’s tongue.

A flash of blinding light leaves her blinking spots from her vision, and she skids to a stop at the lip of the small crater, searching frantically.

There, at the center, is Imogen on her knees. 

Imogen? Laudna shouts silently.

Don’t come any closer, Imogen growls.

A small battalion of Whitestone soldiers keeps the tide of enemies at bay long enough for Laudna to prowl over the rim and blatantly ignore Imogen’s plea. The earth grows warm beneath her wooded knuckles as she inches closer.

Imogen’s dress is torn and bloodied, sleeves tattered and shredded. Her skirts are all but gone, wispy tendrils in strips around her thighs. Her arms glow red, tracing veins up her shoulder, disappearing into her collar. Trails of mud and blood streak her cheeks and run down her side, staining fabric an alarming crimson hue. Her vest is drenched in it.

“You’re bleeding,” Laudna says, voice raspy and warped with dread. She allows her form to collapse a few feet away from Imogen. Bones grind and click together, shifting beneath parchment skin. Laudna’s wounds stretch and burn.

“‘S not all mine.”

“What were you thinking?” Laudna says shrilly.

“Didn’t want to scare you off,” Imogen replies wryly, and Laudna startles.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Was hopin’ you wouldn’t have to.”

And, suddenly, Laudna is confronted with a far worse reality: one where the blasted crater did not have an Imogen at the center.

“Fuck you,” she spits.

Imogen blinks, taken aback.

“That was reckless.”

“Do we have to do this here?”

“You turned yourself into a weapon. You could have been killed.”

“I had it under control.”

“Did you?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“It was spectacular, naturally, but–”

“I’m not seein’ the issue here.”

“You scared me.”

Imogen’s face softens.

Laudna backpedals, “And I know, I know, it’s selfish to be fretting over one person when so many have died, and you are very capable after all, and I trust you a great deal, of course, I do.”

“I’m sorry for scarin’ you,” Imogen says, squeezing Laudna’s hand, “but can we pick this up later?”

The sounds of the battlefield shift back into Laudna’s field of perception. Suddenly, the clash of weapons and the hum of magic is inescapable. The Whitestone battalion has been pushed back to the lip of Imogen’s crater. Laudna fishes a lesser healing potion from a pouch at her waist and thrusts it into Imogen’s hand before she can protest.

Imogen gives her a crooked grin, “Let’s give ‘em hell.”

[neppednep]

Hello! I would like a request for Madoka Magica

Mami or Sayaka with the reader looking like Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen (like he is very strong but arrogant)

Sayaka Miki w/ Gojo!Reader

I choose Sayaka for this one, as I haven't touched her yet and I already have something in the kitchen cooking w/ Mami. May or may not have to do with everyone's favorite spin-off manga. In any case, hope she isn't too OOC. Enjoy.

》 If she claimed Madoka was a cute anime character, you'd bet she'd convince herself you were the main character of some battle shonen manga.

》 Seriously, what don't you have? You're hot, powerful, confident… hot. Who the hell is Kyosuke again?

》 She would be lying if she said she didn't have a bit of a crush. It would be hard not to fall for you. In the course of a few days her life practically did a 180 and was going to hell in a handbasket real fast.

》 She lost her crush to someone she considered one of her best friends, Mami died right in front of her, then that magical girl, a spit in the face to what a magical girl should be came along. She was powerless to stop her and she was falling into despair… that's when she first met you.

》 You may have been a bit arrogant, sure. The way you talked down to the red haired girl, tossing her around like a ragdoll with a smile on your face, treating her like nothing more than a minor nuisance may have not been the most ‘heroic.’ Yeah, she definitely enjoyed watching that girl get her comeuppance. After red was firmly planted in the concrete, you walked over to her and Madoka to check if they were still okay, Sayaka couldn't help but blush as she stared up at you.

》 In Sayaka’s eyes, there were two people she hoped to be like. Mami, the girl who introduced her to all this magical girl stuff. She was kind and caring, saving many innocent lives with a smile on her face, even if she did end up dying, she did it fighting against evil. Then there was you. You weren't selfish like that other girl, even with all that power. You were untouchable yet still cared for others who were quite frankly far below you. If she also had that kind of power and had the mindset of Mami…

》 From there, the two of you start meeting a lot more often. She's far weaker than she'd like to admit, and she had to learn that the hard way. All great heroes had to have someone to teach them at some point, so if she's going to become the Magical Girl of Justice, she might as well tag along and see what she can learn. She never really gets tired of seeing you crush witches and familiars with ease. No matter what kind of weird powers they may have, she's relieved to know you'll make it out fine and have her back In the process.

》 Eventually you did end up explaining more about magical girls to her. She wasn't too big a fan of essentially just being a gem, going into schizo mode and going on about how she's just a zombie and such. She wasn't really listening to you when you told her it isn't all bad and tried explaning the perks… so you took her sword and stabbed yourself in the neck. That understandably spooked her back into the real world, but it at least gave you time to explain everything to her. Your thanks was a swift smack and getting called an idiot. Tough crowd.

》 Luckily, with you by her side she never fell into despair, having someone there to remind her what she’a fighting for, keeping her grounded, and helping her grow into the best hero she could be really helped. She never really got over her crush, and she really wanted to confess. Turns out after seeing how powerful you are and the whole thing of essentially just being an empty husk got to her head and made her doubt herself.

》 After putting her pride aside and going to Madoka, who she is much more protective over after finding out the truth about magical girls, she was talked into going through with it, only having to wait until whatever she thought would be a good time to ask.

》 After thanking her best friend and leaving, she ended up running into Homura who recruited her to help against a very powerful witch who was supposed to be appearing soon. She just brushed her off, saying she'll help but I'm reality she suspected she wouldn't have to do much at all. With you there, everything would be fine. Maybe even after the battle she would finally ask you out. Then the day finally came…

“So, this is the strongest witch, huh?” You say to yourself, arms crossed with a confident smile on your face.

Sayaka nods, seemingly put at ease by your presence despite the inevitable battle to come. “Strongest witch vs. the strongest magical girl(?). You think you can win?”

“I'm disappointed you'd even ask that of me Sayaka.” You sigh, pushing off the wall you were leaning on and taking a step towards the edge of the roof you two were standing on.

“Wow, am I finally going to see the great Y/N get a run for his money?” She playfully retorts, lightly jabbing you with her elbow.

You just huff, glacing at her before bringing your attention back to Walpurgisnacht.

Y/N:

[falloutboylyricss]

Fall Out Boy and Places

note: this post only includes names of specific places, both real and fictional

Evening Out With Your Girlfriend

"I'm deep with futures like Chicago / No, Glenview never meant a thing to me, she never meant a thing to me" - Growing Up

Take This to Your Grave

"Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoria with promise and precision" - Saturday

"Landing on a runway in Chicago, and I'm grounding all my dreams of ever really seeing California" - Homesick at Space Camp

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago (title only)

"But there's a light on in Chicago, and I know I should be home" - Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

From Under The Cork Tree

none

Infinity On High

"Put love on hold, young Hollywood is on the other line" - The (After) Life Of The Party

"And everyone's looking for relief, United States versus disbelief" - You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

"New York eyes, Chicago thighs, pushed up the window to kiss you off" - I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers

Folie à Deux

"Erase myself and let go, start it over again in Mexico" - I Don't Care

"Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess, I'm in love with my own sins" - America's Suitehearts

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet (title only)

"Plant palm trees on Lake Michigan before it gets cold" - The (Shipped) Gold Standard

"Said, 'I'll be fine 'til the hospital or American embassy'" - What A Catch, Donnie

"And you're a bottled star, the planets align, you're just like Mars" - 27

"A Roman candle heart, keep us far apart" - Tiffany Blews

"Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery, go out and preach on Manic Street?" - 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

West Coast Smoker (title only)

"Got my degree in the gutter, my heart broken in the dorms of the Ivy League" - West Coast Smoker

Save Rock And Roll

"Did you trip down twelve steps into Malibu?" - The Mighty Fall

"Bel Air baby, did you get dressed up?" - The Mighty Fall

"But we are alive here in Death Valley, but don't take love off the table yet" - Death Valley

"When Rome's in ruins, we are the lions, free of the Colosseums" - Young Volcanoes

"Americana, exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby?" - Young Volcanoes

PAX AM Days

"Cargo and despair, all American made" - American Made

American Beauty/American Psycho

"You know you look so Seattle, but you feel so L.A." - Irresistible

"She's an American beauty, I'm an American psycho" - American Beauty/American Psycho

"Take me down the line, in Gem City, we turn the tide" - Uma Thurman

"In between being young and being right, you were my Versailles at night" - Fourth Of July

"There's a room in a hotel in New York City that shares our fate and deserves our pity" - Twin Skeleton's (Hotel In NYC)

MANIA

none

So Much (For) Stardust

Heaven, Iowa (title only)

"6 AM, Mulholland Drive, Moonlight Sonata and I" - Heaven, Iowa

Misc.

"I wanna put the Midwest home again" - Alpha Dog

"Sometimes, when I'm in Heaven, I get forgetful of the Earth" - Lake Effect Kid

"And joke us, joke us 'til Lakeshore Drive comes back into focus" - Lake Effect Kid

"I love you, Chicago, you make me feel so summer fling" - City In A Garden

"You know the world can get my bones, but Chicago gets my soul" - Super Fade

"Captain Planet, Arab Spring, L.A. riots, Rodney King" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Oklahoma City bomb, Kurt Cobain, Pokémon" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Nuclear accident, Fukushima, Japan / Crimean peninsula, Cambridge Analytica" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"More war in Afghanistan, Cubs go all the way again / Obama, Spielberg, explosion, Lebanon / Unabomber, Bobbitt, John, Bombing, Boston Marathon" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Stranger Things, Tiger King, Ever Given, Suez" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Elon Musk, Kaepernick, Texas failed electric grid" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Great Pacific garbage patch, Tom DeLonge and aliens / Mars rover, Avatar, self-driving electric cars" - We Didn't Start The Fire

[eri-pl]

Silm Advent calendar 18: Dream

Elros fell asleep. Unlike Men, he was fully aware of this, but unlike Elves, he no longer perceived the warmth of his tent or the camp noises.

He was home, but it was not destroyed. Just empty. No people, no animals, no dust. Silence. 

Vingilot came to the shore—shining but carried by water, not by air—and Earendil left the ship. Even though it was just a dream, the lack of the gem on his forehead filled Elros with relief. 

His father's shape changed like a mirage, now resembling Elros’s own looks, but as a Man. 

“Why do you cry?” asked Earendil-Elros.

“Because I dream of something I cannot have.”

“‘Has been just offered to me’ is quite a peculiar definition of ‘I cannot have’.”

Dreaming Elros turned to the other one and gave him an angry look, but it had no effect. The phantom’s face was still his own, but also not his. And he was smiling. 

“Who are you?” demanded real Elros.

“A dream. Come.”

They entered a cave—the cave. The air still smelled of the sea.

“What do you see?”

“My past. My pain. A dome of stone. Splashing water.”

“What happens to the drops of water?”

Elros shrugged. “They land on the floor and on my shoes, and everywhere.” 

“And then?”

It was a strange dream, and not a very useful one. 

“They evaporate, I suppose.”

“Tell me, is water useless?”

Elros tried to wake up, but it was harder than usual. 

His dream companion—now looking more like a wisp of pink smoke than a person—stepped back. “Please, don't. I apologize for my directness, or maybe for my indirectness, but please, let me get to the point.”

Elros squatted on the ground, one hand in the water. The memories weren't as painful as he'd expected. He looked again at the visitor. “Fine. So what is your point?”

“I need you to make it. This is your dream, after all. So is the water useless?”

It felt like Maglor teaching him science. Boring. Frustrating. Pointless. Still much better than other things he'd brought into Elros’s life. And less complicated.

“Of course not. Water is necessary for life, and it's singing the themes of the Great Music, and seawater isn't good, but it evaporates and leaves the salt on the ground and then it condenses into clean water.”

“And still, stone is much better.” The visitor looked at Elros with a glint in his eyes. Was there a joke somewhere? If there was, he didn't care.

“It's good for building cities, but when you're thirsty…” He shrugged again. 

The visitor nodded. “Exactly. So why do you feel obligated to be a stone?”

Oh. So that's what this whole riddle was about. 

Elros stood up. “Listen, I don't know what I did wrong with falling asleep to end up here, but you're the most stupid dream I've ever had, and I've had many. To be a stone, really? Make it a pun on our names? As if it was just— water has no friends! Nobody to miss it when it goes away. Nobody who had already lost both his parents and then some more people to whom he shouldn't have gotten attached. To whom I shouldn't have gotten attached. I'm not even sure if it's more that I don't want them to grieve one more person, or that I don't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing yet another of Luthien's line dead... I can't. Even if it wasn't for them— I can't do this to Elrond.”

The visitor withstood the whole argument calmly, and bowed. He looked like an elf now, most likely a Sinda, but his hair had a pearl sheen and in his eyes danced clouds of colors. “I apologize. I have—that's not the best point in my life either. I'm usually better at this. Maybe let's go sit somewhere more comfortable?”

“Where?”

“You lead. It's your dream. I probably shouldn't have been so forceful before.” 

A tension that Elros hadn't noticed before loosened, and the dream became more bendy, as they usually were. He imagined them in a sitting room — not a memory, but something safer: a fantasy based on a painting. A bowl of fruit on a table, surrounded by wine glasses. Carved wooden furniture. 

The visitor took a small pear and bit into it. It smelled more lively than in most of the dreams. “You mentioned Lúthien…”

“She was in love. I have no good reason.” Elros looked at the fruit in the bowl. All of them were more detailed than he'd expected. Maybe it wasn't such an unpleasant dream after all. He would have to remember this room, it was a nice place to dream about.

“So, being in love is a good reason. What's a bad reason then?”

Elros shrugged. “It just… feels right. That's not even a reason. Not anything I could explain. What kind of reason is that?”

“So what kind of reason is it?”

“Foolish? Mine? Why are you so stubborn about it? Why am I —or whatever you are, whoever—why would anyone need that?”

The visitor finished his pear and looked at Elros. “I'm not saying that you should choose the fate of Men. Not this for it's own sake. But I'm saying: please, make the choice that your heart leans into. Are those two the same, it's up to you to tell.”

“They are. And yet, I can't. I can't do this to Elrond. To everyone.”

“And can you do to them whatever shall come from you making the wrong choice?”

Outside, rain started falling, and also in the room drops of water fell on Elros’s head and at his cheeks, fell down, and evaporated.

“And what do you know about any of it? Do you know pain? Do you know how it is to love someone whom you hate? To hate someone whom you love? Do you know death?”

The rain turned to hail, then to snow. “I know as much as you, Elros. Which is still too little, I'm afraid. And yet, we have to make choices. Even if they mean learning more of what we wouldn't want to learn. I wish I had more comforting words for you. I wish I could tell you to not be afraid. And yet, I am also in fear, because the world still hangs in balance.”

Elros looked at him, puzzled. “We won the war.”

“We won a war.” The snow stopped falling and melted, but black clouds still hung in the corners of the room, hiding behind shelves and curtains, twirling. He watched them for a while, until his face was dry again.

“My heart tells me to choose the Secondborn. And yet… What shall I tell everyone? How can I explain it?”

“Tell them what you told me. Your heart calls you there.”

“Will they understand?”

The visitor played with an apple for a while, then put it back in the cracked bowl. “I don't know. I hope your brother will—I believe that he will. Earendil almost chose the same, so I think your parents will too. And while the personal feelings of kinslayers are surely an important factor to consider—”

“Are you trying to provoke me to do it out of spite?”

“I'm trying to help you to choose freely.” The visitor smiled. “Well, maybe provoke you a little. I must admit that I'm not entirely displeased with the thought of a certain singer learning that some people actually can make difficult choices. But that's just a small and secondary benefit.

Elros stood up and came to the window. Behind it now was only darkness, pricked with stars. “I know what I should do. I simply don't want to have to handle what everyone does about it.”

The visitor put a hand on Elros's arm. “You can do it. Or at worst you can leave them and go for a walk. That's what I do when I can't handle more stupid people.”

“Fine.” He opened the window. I'll do it. I'll—”

He woke up with tears. Beside him, Elrond was also crying, but when he embraced Elros there was no anger in his touch, only sorrow.

[swifty-fox]

hi, sorry to pop in like this. i've followed you for a while and i was intrigued by your mota posting, so when i was on an airplane recently i watched the first three episodes on the free in-flight service, and... first off THANK YOU for that. i have now finished the whole series and fucking loved it??

anyway, second off--i hope this isn't too awkward but i was hoping i could ask a million questions about like...... what your experience is writing fic and how you tag things and approach the historical aspects etc? i've just started poking around at the ao3 tag but i'm getting fic ideas and i'm not sure how to go about the tagging/writing/etc

(either way, i'm excited to dive into your fics because some of these are 👀👀👀)

HELLO I LOE YOU WELCOME TO DEAD GAY PILOTS!!!!!!!

First and foremost, I would recommend following @hogans-heroes who knows all things plane and has written up some good info on how they work. And also pilots in general

@thatsrightice has a TON of good research done about the irl boys as well

And in general check out the tag for all our lovely lovely writes there's so many to name.

For meeee i think the HboWar fandom understands the separation from the real guys and the fictionalized versions we play dolls with. Some people will put disclaimers but not all. Generally you're not going to piss anyone off by exploring them through a queer lense so long as nobody's harassing the real family members (really only find them in the FB groups. @bcolfanfic has had some sweet exchanges with the Egan and Crosby family)

In terms of researching, my kind of separation from the real people is that I only take show canon as fact. Anything not included in the show about the real guys I don't follow. That's what feels respectful of me! But there's so many lovely writers out there who do follow the events of their real lives and such good content for 'canon' fic.

In terms of researching Google is my best friend as well as the historians we have in the fandom. (Hogans-Heroes again is a gem. @reallylilyreally has a great attention to detail and we also have a few current/former service members who family of service members who are good points of reference!)

In terms of other research. the Masters of the Air book is a great go to

Cros actually wrote a book called A Wing and a Prayer which is a great resource and also pretty heartbreaking!

I personally referenced The Evening Crowd at Kirmsers by Ricardo Brown for queer underground culture in the 40's

Coming Out Under Fire is a fucking devastating but really helpful book about gay service members in the 40's and kind of the danger they were in. @bcolfanfic also has some excerpts from that she posted a while back if you don't mind digging.

I've also used ancestry.com to research the guys as well as these websites contains the personnel and mission files as well as photos of the guys!

https://100thbg.com/ you can search both the guys AND the planes!

another great website with a similar search function but they have a few diff documents.

For tagging the main tags are: Mota, Clegan and Hbowar (this one will include the other shows like Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Generation Kill)

Really it's treated like any other fandom. Everyone understands that we're playing with dolls, not real people. But also RPF is fine kill the cop in your head and join the hockey rpf fandom next >:)

[marta-bee]

This story from @eilinelsghost really and truly blew me away. I don't want to say too much for risk of spoiling it (for he that breaks a thing to see how it works, etc. etc.), but by way of summary, it involves Finarfin and Finrod being reunited after Finrod's death and re-incarnation, and it is every bit as intense as a fic would need to be to do that moment really, really well.

I mean: damn.

Aside from that, I think it's pretty well known in these parts that my two big fandoms are Tolkien and Sherlock Holmes. What I've maybe made less obvious is I relate to these fandoms in pretty different ways, and this fic helped me understand why.

Tolkien is the one fandom I've ever really felt driven to write for, though I don't read it much these days. Whereas Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock especially, I love to read but feel so little drive to actually write in. And I think it's because with Sherlock, there are these great fun characters and so many people still writing in this really accessible, relaxing writing style. Also, canon really did do quite a few of us Johnlockers horribly wrong. Slipping back into that world is like slipping into a warm bath at the end of a long day. But there's not this metaphysical grist the way there is with the Silmarillion especially, and the way my brain works, there's nothing to work out the same way.

And writing is hard. It takes me months often as not, and while I love being on the other side of a good story-telling, the getting-there process is quite grueling. Even the wordcrafting, the turns-of-phrase, I really love writing a character that demands that and whose character demands it. Mycroft, maybe. Denethor, certainly. But more and more, with Sherlock stories, the kind of stories I feel like I should be writing there just don't seem to spring naturally from the canon.

Then I read this gem and got a glimpse of what I was yearning for. It's the archaic language, I think, and the way that other-ness just really, really serves the theme I think the author is aiming for. It's gloriously told on its own, but it's also not (to borrow a line from Hitchhiker's Guide) not just some guys, you know? It's almost like Finrod and Finarfin are characters almost (but not quite) elevated to archetypes so we can play around with what it means to be reembodied in Arda Marred, in a way a philosophical treatise never quite could.

Doesn't mean the story itself doesn't pack a punch. This is plunge the dagger in and twist it around while you're in there why don't you? level angst, and I do mean that as the best compliment.

As I said: damn.

To the extent I'm in a place to make New Year's resolutions, I'd say this makes me want to reread the Silm and maybe write some Tolkien fic of my own again. That wanting is the highest compliment I can muster. Whether I can actually do that is an open question (I'm both tired and very busy with RL), but the desire is real.

Seriously, Silmarillion fans, if you've gotten this far and are still reading me please go and read the thing. For a oneshot especially, it packed an utterly ridiculous amount of wallop.

Sherlockians, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. But sometimes, game just has to take a moment to recognize game.