#by reading thirteen/rose fanfictions

[microcroft]

going full pepe silvia mode on my theory that ruby sunday is the doctor and rose's daughter

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Thirteen — Cillian Murphy + somnophilia, dd/lg

Pairing -> dark!cillian murphy x step-daughter!reader

Warnings -> DARK!!!, smut (minors dni), little girl/good girl nickname, somnophilia, daddy kink, non-con, stepcest, reader is implied to be underage (near college), don't read if you're not comfortable, infidelity, cheating/implied cheating, wet dream, fingering, masturbating

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

A/N: Sorry I didn't get this out on time, I was too tired to write it the other day.

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun. + quotation credit - The Sleeping Beauty (Briar Rose) by The Brothers Grimm

“. . . ‘Then he went on still further,’” Cillian read, his thumb loosely brushing the page of the book, “‘and all was so quiet that a breath could be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into the little room where Briar Rose was sleeping. There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away; and he stooped down and gave her a kiss’ . . . Are you listening?”

You were not. You had fallen asleep a few minutes back, your chest slowly rising and falling by the rhythm of your breathing, little snores escaping until the noises finally died down and there was no sound but the closing of a book and the shuffling of the bedsheets. 

Cillian didn’t know why you always insisted on bedtime stories. You were almost an adult, about to go to college and mature in every way. You liked to debate with your friends, to discuss philosophy and life, and on occasion, you even divulged to him your fantasies, sexual ones — things you never talked about with your mother. He supposed it was something about the comfort, the nostalgia of childhood, to have someone you trusted tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight.

Cillian brushed your hair out of your face and started to caress your cheek affectionately. He loved you, that was the one thing in this world he was sure about. His broken marriage with his wife, your mother, had long past the stages of blissful happiness, and the only thing keeping him in this unfaithful marriage was you, his stepdaughter, his very own sleeping beauty. 

He couldn’t imagine a future in which you were absent. These past ten years, where he had watched you grow up, learn and fail, and guide you to be the person you were now, felt the most important of his life. If you were gone, what was he supposed to do? Dwindle away his life with work? Pursue a fruitless romance with another woman? No. His life’s purpose was here, taking care of you, protecting you like no other man could do. 

You needed him, and as it turned out, he needed you.

You turned around in bed, instinctively moving your body near Cillian. He froze for a moment, but didn’t push you away, and instead pulled you closer, close enough so that your breasts (absolutely beautiful, he thought, she’s changed so much) were pressing up against his chest with one of your legs draped over his body. 

It was at that moment that he decided he was going to stay for a while longer, make sure that you were comfortable and at ease before returning to his own room. It was his job as your fatherly figure, no?

About thirty minutes had passed by in this position. Cillian was rubbing your back soothingly, leaving feathery kisses all over your face, when you suddenly let out a sound, a strange sound, one that he had never heard come out of your mouth before — a moan.

You were rubbing up against him. He could feel a dampness form on his pants. Is she having a wet dream? he thought, his face heating up.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just ignore it, not with the way he was gaining an erection.

Cillian felt sick on the inside. Dreams like that were normal, he wasn’t supposed to be getting hard at his daughter having one. But he couldn’t just leave either. What if you needed help? What if you woke up, confused about what was happening to you? He had to be there to explain it all.

What am I thinking? She’s almost eighteen, she knows what it is. 

But still, it was better to have an adult there. Just for comfort. 

He tried to stay as still as possible, but the little moans and whimpers got too much for him. You just looked so innocent, despite the situation. Your lips were slightly parted, your eyebrows creased, like an angel receiving pleasure for the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. His erection was painful at this point, trying to escape from his pants but left to the confines of his morality. He had to keep it in. Yes. He couldn’t hurt his daughter because of his desires.

But as you kept rubbing—humping at this point—he reasoned that he could help you with yours. 

He lowered his hand to your stomach, hesitating for a moment, before deciding to go through with it. He slipped his fingers inside your pants, making sure to keep them outside your underwear.

You reacted when he pressed his thumb to your clit—a little shudder, one that encouraged him to keep going. How could it be wrong if you liked it? How could it be wrong if you needed it?

“Little girl,” he whispered. “Does that feel good? You like it when Daddy touches you like this, don’t you?”

Almost as if you could hear him, your pushed your body against his hand, craving more of his touch like a desperate little thing. The spaghetti strap of your top was slowly beginning to slip off, but Cillian didn’t bother pulling it back up. He was more focused on circling your clit, and palming his cock with his other hand.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good, little girl.”

This night had turned out better than he expected. Maybe this didn't have to be the last one.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

[emma-m-black]

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Sixteen

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

____

Author Master List

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen,

Chapter Sixteen:

“Rose!” The shout of her name broke through the suffocating darkness she’d been lost in. Her eyes fluttered open as her body trembled, pain pulling her further into consciousness. “Rose, wake up!”

Buffy’s frantic face hovered above her, concern flooding her features.

A dull throb turned into searing pain at the back of Rose’s head. “Oww,” she whispered, raising her hand instinctively, but the moment she did, memories slammed into her like a freight train.

There had been a knock at the door. Joyce had answered it. Rose had heard her scream, and she’d rushed to help, stepping out into the night—then the sudden force throwing her back, her skull colliding with the banister. Darkness had followed.

“If you bring her outside, I can heal her,” came a distant, familiar voice, tugging Rose’s attention.

“That’s not going to happen,” Buffy snapped, her voice taut with tension. “Rose. Rose, they took my mother. I have to go after her. Do you know where they went?”

“Boarding house, Prescott Lane,” the voice replied again, each word dripping with a cold certainty. “The Watcher’s Council has been working out of there for the last week.”

Her father. Slowly, Rose turned her head, and there he was—sitting just outside the open front door, leaning on the frame like an outsider watching from the shadows. His eyes met hers, tired and broken in a way that mirrored something deep in her own chest.

“Rose, I ne—”

“Go, Buffy,” Rose cut in softly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of pain and confusion inside her. “Save your mom.”

As Buffy gathered her weapons and disappeared into the night, Rose shifted, pressing her back against the banister for support. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her father, sitting there so casually after everything, made her skin crawl.

“Rose, you’re bleeding. I can heal you if—”

“I’m not stepping out that door,” she interrupted, her tone sharp as her gaze locked onto his. “Were you there the whole time? Just… watching?”

Her father nodded slowly. “Yes, I saw what happened, but I... I couldn’t get into the house.”

The words stung, not just for their content but for what they implied—he had seen her in danger and she had spelled him from being able to help. Anger and sorrow tangled together in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“How did you know the Watcher’s Council was here? Where they’re hiding?” Rose asked, her voice quieter now, as if the energy to stay angry was draining away.

“The coven has been watching all the comings and goings in town. The Elders went to them, told them about the interference from the Watcher and his Slayer,” he explained, his tone measured.

The betrayal hit her in waves—first slow, then suddenly, like a drowning sensation she couldn’t escape from. Her own family, people she’d trusted with everything, was tied up in this conspiracy. She wanted to scream at him.

“If you hurt them...” Rose warned, her voice trembling, though she wasn’t sure if it was from fear, anger, or the fresh stab of hurt.

“I don’t want anyone hurt,” her father said quietly. “Especially not you.”

Rose scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “But you’d still throw me on a pyre, wouldn’t you? All so you can keep your power.”

Her laugh was hollow, but it was the only thing holding back the tears she refused to shed. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“No,” he said, voice trembling slightly. “I’m done with it. They’ve excommunicated me, Rose. For telling your friends where you were. I won’t let them sacrifice you. I won’t let them destroy you. Not for this.”

There was a flicker of sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, just a split second, she wanted to believe him. But how could she? After everything? She had spent her whole life trusting this man, and in return, he had betrayed her. Lied to her. His actions had led her here—wounded, broken, and on the verge of losing everything.

“How could I ever trust you again?” she asked, her voice cracking. The words echoed the deeper pain inside her, a pain far worse than the throbbing in her head.

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” he admitted, sadness weighing down every syllable. “But I hope you’ll believe that I’ll be watching, and I’ll do what I can to help you. I’ll make up for the lies, somehow.”

Rose looked at him, eyes blurry with emotion, not entirely sure how to respond. She was too raw, too wounded. She shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.

But then he spoke again.

“So, you and the Watcher seem quite close...”

The shift in tone was enough to drag her out of her misery, and a groan escaped her lips. “Dad...”

“He’s quite a bit older, though...” his voice was laced with discomfort.

“DAD!” Rose’s voice was louder now, a laugh bubbling up despite everything. She couldn’t help it.

“He’s also quite protective of you,” her father added softly.

“Mr. Giles is like that with everyone,” Rose mumbled, though her heartbeat quickened at the thought of Giles. She tried to ignore the memories—the closeness, the connection, the intimacy that had somehow drawn them together.

But then her father’s next words stopped her cold. “His right hook said otherwise.”

Her eyes shot open, staring at him in confusion. “What?”

“When I came to him, to ask them for help, he... well, we may have come to blows.”

“May have?” she asked, her mind whirling with the information. It didn’t fit—Giles was always so controlled, but then her mind flashed to the motel room with Ethan...

“It was the spell.“ she said simply, the memory of that time rising to the surface.

“Oh, I don’t think that was because of that silly love spell,” her father said, his tone darkening. “That Mr. Rayne explained everything. I know what spell they used, Rose. It only amplifies something that’s already there. Or has the potential to be.”

The weight of his words crushed down on her chest, suffocating. Her family knew. They knew everything. The embarrassment burned through her, hotter than any fire her family could throw her on.

“Wait... how much do you know?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer.

“Everything, Rose.”

“Oh my God,” Rose groaned, the shame rising in her throat like bile. “I think I might die from embarrassment.”

Her father chuckled softly. “Hey, I never told you about my first time...”

“DAD! Oh my god no!” Rose screamed as she raised her hands to her ears to cover them.

A laugh broke through her lips before she could stop it, and soon her father was laughing too.

Rose wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she and her father exchanged stilted, awkward conversation. The distance between them—emotional and physical—felt like an invisible wall neither could fully breach. But then something flickered in her memory.

“Wait,” she said, snapping her attention to him. “You said came to blows… Did you punch Mr. Giles?”

Her father shifted uncomfortably, his lips twitching into a lopsided smirk. “Tried to. Didn’t get a very good hit in mind you,” he admitted with a small shrug. “But he was always faster than me.”

“What?” Rose’s voice was disbelieving, her mind struggling to connect the pieces of a life she never imagined her father shared with Giles. She stared at him in shock, the distance between past and present collapsing into one messy, tangled truth.

Before she could process the revelation, the familiar rumble of Giles’s car cut through the tension. Rose turned her head, watching as Giles and the Summers women emerged, each of them looking haggard and worn. It was as if the weight of the world clung to them.

Rose and her father stood as they made their way up the porch, the atmosphere shifting with their arrival. She made a move to approach Buffy, concern clouding her expression. “Buffy, are you okay?” she asked, taking a step forward before stopping abruptly, remembering the barrier—the house’s threshold that kept her father just outside and her safe.

“I’m okay,” Buffy replied, her tone flat but tinged with exhaustion. Her eyes flickered toward Rose’s father, wary and distrustful, but she carefully sidestepped him, ushering her mother inside and disappearing toward the kitchen.

Then, silence. The kind that crackles like static in the air, thick and suffocating.

“Rupert,” The greeting was cold.

“Cole,” Giles replied, his voice sharp with unspoken history.

Rose blinked, trying to wrap her mind around what she was witnessing. Her father, Giles, together. She could feel the words struggling to form in her mouth. “What is… happening?” she asked softly, her voice faltering, as if her brain couldn’t keep up with the revelations.

“We met long before all of this,” Cole said, keeping his eyes locked on Giles with an intensity Rose hadn’t seen before. “Oxford.”

“Oh, my god…” Rose whispered, her heart sinking into her stomach. This wasn’t just a collision of the past and present—this was a nightmare unfolding before her.

Cole’s gaze never wavered, hard and cold as it fixed on Giles. “Surprisingly, I wasn’t much of a fan of you back then either,” Cole said, his voice laced with bitterness.

Rose stood frozen, her heart hammering in her chest. Her father—the man who had betrayed her—and Giles, the person she trusted, the man she… had feelings for, were at odds. And not just because of her. They had known each other long before the curse, before her entire life had spiraled into chaos.

Giles’s response was biting, full of venom Rose had never heard him use. “Perhaps that was because you always knew, somewhere deep down, that I would be entrusted with your daughter’s care. While you and your coven plotted to kill her.”

“This was never what I wanted!” Cole’s retort came fast, his frustration clear as his voice cracked under the weight of his guilt. “I didn’t know about the curse until it was too late! By then, I’d already been blooded into the coven—excommunicated by my own family for turning my back on the Council. Don’t act like you’re some saint, Rupert. You slept with my teenage daughter.”

Rose’s blood ran cold as Cole’s words struck like a slap to her face. You slept with my daughter. The weight of that accusation—spoken aloud, right there in front of her—felt like a wave of humiliation crashing over her. Her face flushed hot, and she could feel the embarrassment suffocating her, knowing that not only her father but everyone knew what had happened between her and Giles.

“Wait, the Council?” she stammered, trying to latch onto anything to distract her from the overwhelming shame coursing through her.

Cole sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, his features hard with regret. “Much like Rupert, I rebelled against my destiny as a Watcher. But by the time I knew the truth—what your mother was, and the curse that bound the coven—it was too late. She was already pregnant with you, and there was no turning back. Not when I knew…”

Giles’s patience snapped, and his voice cut through the air like a blade. “That you would one day have to kill your own flesh and blood,” he spat, his face twisted in contempt. He shoved Cole, and the sudden violence startled Rose, her breath catching in her throat.

Cole staggered back, but he didn’t hesitate before pushing Giles right back. “There was nothing I could do! They would have hunted us down—hunted her down!” His voice broke, a hint of desperation leaking through.

Rose’s head spun as she stepped out into the night and between the two men before her—two people who seemed to care a great deal for her—now throwing accusations and fists as if she were some object of power, something to be fought over. Her heart ached with betrayal, and yet some small, wounded part of her wanted to believe her father. She wanted to trust that, somehow; he had meant to protect her. But how could she?

She looked at Giles, the man she had come to trust more than anyone, and saw the fire in his eyes—the protective, possessive rage that scared and comforted her in equal measure. And then there was her father, pleading for understanding in the only way he knew how. This wasn’t just some petty grudge between them; this was about her. About their failure to save her, their failure to keep her safe.

“So what, do you think you can protect, Rose? The good old Watcher—protector of the good and innocent—you threw your beloved Slayer to the slaughter.” Cole spat, stepping back, distancing himself from his daughter.

“What are you talking about?” Rose’s voice cracked, confusion and disbelief rippling through her as she glanced from her father to Giles.

Cole’s words were dripping with venom as he leaned against the railing. “Oh, did your beloved protector not tell you how, if the Slayer happens to live long enough, they’re basically put out to pasture by their Watcher? Strip them of their powers, see how they fare. It’s just a way to thin the herd, really. Get rid of the Slayer before they age out, before they’re too difficult to control. Then call up the next young, impressionable potential.”

“Buffy’s powers...” Rose whispered, her stomach twisting as horror crept into her heart. She turned to Giles, taking a step back from him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You did that to her?”

Giles opened his mouth, his hand instinctively reaching out to her, but he stopped himself short, his face drawn tight with guilt. “Rose, I can explain.”

“You took her powers away. You left her defenseless. Her mother was kidnapped, I was attacked...” Rose’s voice rose, shaking with the weight of the accusation. She couldn’t believe it—couldn’t believe him.

Giles’s face blanched, his eyes wide with concern, his voice soft and urgent. “Are you okay?” He stepped toward her, desperation in his eyes, as if needing to know she was unharmed.

Rose waved him off, her anger bubbling up, her hand trembling. “I’m fine, but this isn’t about me!”

“It’s okay, Rose,” came Buffy’s quiet, steady voice from the doorframe. Her tone was calm, but there was an undercurrent of pain. “Giles put his job and his life on the line to stop the trial.”

“It doesn’t matter much now. They sacked me,” Giles muttered, his voice heavy with defeat, as if the weight of it was too much to bear. “I’ll be lucky if they don’t have me deported.” His eyes met Rose’s, filled with regret, and something else—something tender.

“Rupert,” Rose whispered. Her heart twisted, aching for him, but her body remained frozen in place. She wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, but her feet wouldn’t move. She was caught between the love she felt for him and the overwhelming guilt, shame, and confusion choking her.

“The Council said he cared too much for me,” Buffy said with a faint smile, trying to break the tension. “And they were ready to hand you over to your coven, Rose. They didn’t want us meddling in your families affairs, but you’ll be happy to know, Mr. Murphy—” Buffy turned to Cole, her gaze steely—"Giles threatened to burn the Council to the ground if they laid a hand on your daughter. And we won’t have to worry about them. I made sure they got the message loud and clear: they’d better be out of town before my powers come back."

“The coven would’ve told the Council everything...” Cole muttered darkly, rubbing a hand across his face.

The weight of it all was too much for Rose. Everything came crashing down at once—the betrayal, the love, the guilt. The exhaustion from constantly looking over her shoulder, being hunted by her own family. Giles losing his place in the Council, risking everything for her... the reality of it cut through her like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. She wasn’t just feeling guilty for Buffy’s sake anymore. She felt a deep, gnawing fear that everything in her life was unraveling. Buffy’s mom had been kidnapped. Buffy herself had been left vulnerable. Rose’s own father, her flesh and blood, had been complicit in this madness. And Giles—Giles had sacrificed his career, his future, for her, and for his Slayer.

Her knees buckled. The weight, the shame, the love—it was overwhelming her. She felt herself falling, but before she could even register what was happening, strong arms caught her.

Giles lowered them both gently to the ground, his breath ragged with emotion. Rose let out a small, hiccupped sob as she looked up, her eyes locking with his. His blue eyes, always so calm, so steady, were now full of worry—worry for her. He cradled her gently, like she was something precious, something he couldn’t bear to lose.

And in that moment, her heart broke and mended all at once. She loved him. She loved him. It wasn’t the spell. It never had been. Her heart, her magic, every part of her, was bound to him in a way that transcended anything she could explain.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice barely audible as she reached up to touch his face. Her hand trembled as she traced the worry lines on his brow, her eyes searching his. She knew this love was another burden to carry, another complication, but she couldn’t deny it. Not anymore.

Even with everything falling apart, the truth was simple. She loved him, and he still cared enough about her to protect her—not even the chaos swirling around them—could change that.

Chapter Seventeen

[emmianturia]

Last year, I was in a very bad place mentally.

I was doubting myself and everything I was doing.

But then, I found a certain angel and his demon and was instantly engrossed and obsessed.

Good Omens gave me something to think about other than myself. And for a while, that was a massive relief.

I dove head-first into any fanfiction I could find and with every single one, I fell deeper in love with those characters and the amazing fandom that surrounds them.

I read on and on and somehow it all lead me back to thinking about myself again. But something had changed.

When I watched enough GO to be able to speak along with all the characters, suddenly, Doctor Who popped up in my suggestion list. I had heard about it, but never before watched. I was like, 'ohh yay, DT plays the doctor' and hit play.

Boy it wasn't like anything I had expected.

I was hooked even before nine regenerated into ten. And so I fell in love with the doctor as well. The grinning nine, the hippity-hoppity ten, bowtie-wearing eleven, grumpy twelve, crazy thirteen, burned-out fourteen and singing fifteen. I love them all because they are all parts of one beautiful being.

And then, Donnas daughter Rose appeared.

And that’s when it finally hit me. Her words finally made something click inside my head.

I'd never been able to fit in.

Not with the other girls (clothes, make-up, shoes - yikes) nor with the boys (hellooo friendzone, I actually would have liked to have a boyfriend as well, you know?)

Life went on and I had resigned myself to being the strange oddball (+ married and with a kid)

But now,

At 37 years of age, I finally understand:

I am not female (or male)

I am not binary

I am neither

I am non-binary

And I am more

I am me 💛🤍💜🖤

And I'm finally happy with who I am

[agerefandom]

Agerefandom 2022 Masterpost

This is a belated collection of my content from 2022! If you’re interested, here are the previous years: 2021 and 2020! 

In 2020, I wrote eighteen fics: In 2021, I wrote twenty-two. In 2022, I only wrote five full fanfictions, but that’s probably because I was writing so many more headcanons this year! Here are the fanfictions I wrote last year: 

Angels At The Window (Hazbin Hotel, caregivers!Charlie and Vaggie, regressor!Reader) As Sleeping Amber  (Phantom of the Opera, regressor!Erik, caregiver!Christine)  Flourishing In Sunlight  (Avatar: The Last Airbender, postcanon, regressor!Katara, careiver!Zuko)  Fancy Tuna and Frantic Texts  (Ouran High School Host Club, regressor!Haruhi, caregivers!Tamaki and Kyoya)  Natasha Is Young (Great Comet of 1812, regressor!Natasha, caregiver!Helene)

In 2020, I wrote thirty-two headcanon posts! In 2021, that went down to nineteen, but in 2022 I wrote forty-three headcanon sets! 

regressor!Gary King (World’s End)  caregiver!Jareth (Labyrinth)  regressor!Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel)  flip!Sans (Horrortale)  regressor!Adam/creature (Frankenstein)  caregiverse!Sundrop and Moondrop (FNAF Security Breach)  regressor!Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)  regressor!Severus Snape (Harry Potter) caregiver!Pennywise (It)  caregvier!Annabelle Crane (Magnus Archives)  regressor!Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice musical) regressor!Jade Harley (Homestuck) caregiver!V (V for Vendetta)  caregiver!Val Frizzle (Magic School Bus)  regressor!Stanley Pines (Gravity Falls)  caregiver!Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)  caregiver!Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)  caregiver!13th Doctor (Doctor Who)  regressors!Anna and Elsa (Frozen)  regressor!Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)  caregiver!Count Dooku (Star Wars)  caregiver!Caleb Widogast (Critical Role)  caregivers!Ruby and Sapphire (Steven Universe)  regressor!Dana Scully (X-Files)  regressor!Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein)  regressor!Stevonnie (Steven Universe)  caregiver!Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars)  regressor!Sam Winchester (Supernatural)  regressor!10th Doctor with caregiver!Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)  regressor!Eleven (Stranger Things)  regressor!Bea and caregiver!Mae (Night In The Woods)  regressor!Monika (Doki Doki Literature Club)  regressor!Yuri (Doki Doki Literature Club)  regressor!Sayori (Doki Doki Literature Club)  regressor!Natsuki (Doki Doki Literature Club) 

Disney Caregivers Gaston (Beauty and the Beast)  Belle (Beauty and the Beast)  Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves)  Bruno (Encanto)  Tiana and Naveen (Princess and the Frog)  Oogie Boogie (Nightmare Before Christmas)  Ariel (The Little Mermaid)  Captain Amelia (Treasure Planet) 

Under the ‘keep reading’ I’ve collected links to my thirteen favourite moodboards from the seventy-three I made in 2023, and some of my favourite art and edits as well! 

Favourite Moodboards: 

caregiver!V 

regressor!Will Graham

regressor!Dipper Pines

regressor!Erik/Phantom

regressor!Peter Parker

regressor!Kylo Ren

caregiver!Count Dooku

regressor!Charles Xavier

regressor!Cal Strider

caregiver!Bakugou 

regressor!Shigaraki 

regressor!Noah Czerny 

caregiver!Jasper Cullen

Favourite Art/Edits: 

Tokoyami and Dark Shadow

regressor!Jade Harley

regressor!Angel and regressor!Charlie edits

regressor!Himiko Toga

regressors!Mae and Gregg

regressor!Ashton and cg!FCG

regressor!Bruno Madrigal

[fairyniceyeah]

asks 3,6,17

Hey Anon^^

Thanks for the ask! I do love those games and introspective XD

3. Who is your favorite character to read? To write? 

Like I said in my Sicktember post: I tend to hyperfixate on fandoms and characters a lot, so much that it’s making being a multi-stan hard. Of course, right now I’d say Woozi (SVT) and before that maybe Hajoon (The Rose), Hongjoong (ATZ) and maybe Lee Know (Stray Kids) – basically my K-Pop biases.

In fiction I tend to fixate on male supporting characters – Derek Hale (Teen Wolf), Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), Legolas (Lord of the Rings), Enjolras and Combeferre (Les Misérables), Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters).

In writing I do tend to really need to write about my fav, in reading if the story and writing is good, I don't care that much.

I guess that doesn’t really answer the question but it truly switches a lot and I can only tell you the pattern.

6. When did you start reading and writing fic?

I started writing as early as I could hold a pen and actually spell. When I transferred to a higher level education school (the German school system is kinda hard to explain) I started doing the extracurricular called “Creative Writing”. Back then some of the older girls told me of fanfiction but I didn’t even have a phone for reading and I didn’t even really care for it back then. I started writing what one would call fanfics around that time though and then at some point started posting on a German fanfic website. I actually checked out my account just now and I am so embarrassed by the fics omg. Guess twelve/thirteen years old was too young to write good stuff...

But yeah, the first fic I ever posted was in October 2014. I’d say that I started “writing” fanfics in my head when I was much younger though.

17. What are your top 3 favorite tropes of all time? 

I gotta be honest, I first had to google what "trope" actually means, since I wasn’t sure if it’s more like the general style of the fic (Sickfic e.g.) or like a plot point (Sharing a bed e.g.). Since apparently everything is a trope, I guess:

-Sickfic

-(Emotional) Hurt/Comfort

-Whump

What a surprise, right? If that is not what you meant with tropes please let me know!

Lots of love,

🧚🏻‍♀️

[doverstar]

I love your fic so much! I absolutely love reading people's fics of "niche" ideas (I mean that in a good way like unique! Hopefully it doesn't come off as rude!! D: ) Because you can really see it's their child and like a labor of love!! Also thank you so much for adding to 11/Rose we're starved for centric fics😔

Take all the time you need!🧡

(also pls tell me about your writing process if possible, I'm envious of how you keep things so connected in a long format!)

It did not come off as rude and thank you so much! With Doctor Who there’s infinite room for people’s niche ideas. It’s the greatest idea for a show in the whole world; you can do whatever you want! I think the best way I can describe what you’re asking about regarding my writing process is Notes. I make a big messy document on my laptop for everything I write, long or short, called “[Insert Title Here] – Notes (or Pre-Write)”. In it, I talk myself through what the story is about, what happens, the themes, and how it ends. There are sometimes charts and color coding but mostly it’s me babbling in word form until I have it all down. Then I can go through it later and stick to what I want to do without getting off-course or distracted!

Here’s an example of one of my Notes documents, for a Stranger Things fic specifically:

Obviously, not everything I first write down in the Notes babble has to be what happens—it’s just something I can look at when I write the story to remind myself what I wanted to do, and if the story takes a different direction while I’m writing it—because of the flow or because it makes more sense—then I do that instead. Notes is just me being organized instead of winging it. I used to wing it when I was thirteen and writing Phineas and Ferb fanfiction, the old glory days –

Then, when Notes has been vomited out, I move on to a pre-write, which is not always the traditional sense of the word you learn in schools – it’s just me writing a paragraph under each chapter title to explain what happens in the chapter and whose POV it’s from, and I mark like Balto on tree bark any strand of thought or prop or character arc I want to carry over or change in the next chapter(s). For example, with Lost and Rewritten, I marked in each chapter’s pre-write (with blue letters) where I wanted to mention the Void detector, because it’s part of what Rose is noticing and what Rose is missing, and it’s basically a physical prop for why she is/isn’t seeing what’s really going on. It’s less about what the actual Void detector is telling her and more to show where Rose is at mentally after Doomsday. If that makes sense? Anyway, that’s how I connect things! Notes. I used to just do whatever felt correct without Notes, but in my old age, a little more background direction is necessary. Thanks so much for the kind words and for reading what I write!

[spookydxck]

I should probably get some of the basics out of the way before I start to ramble on.

My name is Katelin, I'm twenty-two (until July), and I live and work in England. I've used tumblr on and off for years, the longest period was back when I was 14/15 where I wrote fanfiction. Gotta admit I wasn't half bad, considering I ended up with close to 11 thousand followers at one point. Which looking back on is crazy.

Now I'm back for myself, to share my love for books and the peace they give me when I can wholeheartedly throw myself into them. Before August last year, I probably hadn't picked up a book since I was about thirteen, but since August I have read a whopping seventy-three books.

Twenty-three of those are towards my fifty-two books in one year goal, making me ten books ahead of schedule.

Mostly they are all spicy romance but I'm dabbling in other genres. I've read a couple thrillers by different authors , but I am looking forward to starting The Housemaid by Frieda McFadden when I get round to it.

I think first up on my never ending TBR has to be A court of thorns and roses by Sarah J Mass, so come along and experience my bookish journey as it unfolds.

[daytura]

OP nails the analysis. I skim-binged Homestuck in 2016, just around the time it ended, and even with all the fanfiction I've read there's still little I remember about it. But I constantly come back to alt!Calliope's quotes and dialogues. The Calliopes to me embody the balance between idealism and utility, the subjective and the ideal, and the way fiction and reality switch places and flow into each other.

See also: Hyperstition, joking about outcomes you want, meme magic, and multiversal views on language models

What's interesting to me structurally is that Calliope is fandom self-insert and represents tendencies, traits, and patterns we find in transformative fandom. John may be the audience, but Calliope are the fans. Calliope theorizes, stays on the outside, conducts hyperstition, waiting for someone to bootstrap her into reality. She is the one in the ivory tower, the one with Pinterest boards. She is the outsider. We've all been Calliope three times over.

Hussie created a character [...] for who inaction is the ultimate action. /r/Homestuck

CALLIOPE: how can i go in search of myself if i am blown to smithereens the moment i set foot oUtside? / pg. 6672

The second interesting thing to me is that alternate versions of characters, like Davesprite and the Aradiabots, operate as derivations of an ideal. Canonically, yes, Davesprite and the Aradiabots "occur first" in the sense that these events must happen in order to reflexively correct the main course of events. But functionally, as structural elements, they're derivations. alt!Calliope derives from Calliope; the archetype of alt!Calliope, then, is someone who has transcended fandom, filed off the serial numbers, and "won". alt!Calliope is life after fandom, or life without fandom outright. A writer publishing without ever reading fanfiction. They don't transform and derive, they invent. They are the outsider with utility.

Tangent — utility seems to be a theme running across the space players. Kanaya and the matriorb, Jade and the Yellow Yard.

JADESPRITE: but i dont know whats right JADE: yes you do! JADE: even though you dont want to be, youre here now, and there are still people who need you JADE: there is still something worth fighting for! / pg. 3244

Grandma English and the Condesce.

The blackness warped like it was laughing or shaking its head. "I can't do that, Jade. Please stop crying, it's just awful and awkward for both of us. Ugh, please! If you keep going like this, I'm going to cry, too." "And why should I stop? Why couldn't you stop this?" Jade clutched Dave tighter. "What does any of it matter if they all die?" The blackness flared. "Shoosh!" it commanded, and she shushed, blinking tears. It continued to roil itself, collapsing like a dwarf about to go nova, like an atomic warhead before the blast. It took form before her, growing limbs, weaving starlight into its hair. Jade's thirteen-year-old self stared back at her over Dave's corpse, lip bitten defiantly, eyes sparking. She bared too many teeth. "There is still something worth fighting for!" / Hold the Line, dashery.

But utility is not enough. From the Homestuck Epilogues, Meat!Rose:

ROSE: I observed more power and emotion in the single ragged notebook [the one she wrote] than the full span of the bestselling series. [the one her post-scratch self wrote] ROSE: It’s more raw. It betrays considerably more sincerity than my young self was surely ever aware of stitching into the prose. ROSE: It meant something.

At the moment alt!Calliope de-masks Calliope's trollsona, all abstractions collapse, the character evaporates, and the real-life actor remains. The ultimate story has always been the one you live now.

I'd like to end this rambly reblog with David Foster Wallace's response to metafictional and ironic literary (and to an extent, personal) trends in "E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction":

The next real literary "rebels" in this country might well emerge as some weird bunch of anti-rebels, born oglers who dare somehow to back away from ironic watching, who have the childish gall actually to endorse and instantiate single-entendre principles. Who treat of plain old untrendy human troubles and emotions in U.S. life with reverence and conviction. Who eschew self-consciousness and hip fatigue. These anti-rebels would be outdated, of course, before they even started. Dead on the page. Too sincere. Clearly repressed. Backward, quaint, naive, anachronistic. Maybe that'll be the point. [...] The new rebels might be artists willing to risk the yawn, the rolled eyes, the cool smile, the nudged ribs, the parody of gifted ironists, the "Oh how banal". To risk accusations of sentimentality, melodrama. Of overcredulity. Of softness. Of willingness to be suckered by a world of lurkers and starers who fear gaze and ridicule above imprisonment without law. Who knows.

Perhaps the antidote to our counterfactual tragedies were already here.

ok but the conversation between calliope and alt!calliope is was and remains one of the most touching moments of the entire comic both in how it deals with themes of depression and survival. 

alt!calliope is technically more “successful” than calliope. she’s stronger, smarter, less vulnerable. she dominates caliborn and takes his blood color, instead of the other way around; she’s a fully realized god tier, and in the end, she’s in large part responsible for the success of the session. she creates the new world. she saves everybody. and yet she clearly isn’t happy. she is calliope without any of calliope’s self-consciousness issues, the calliope that calliope wishes she was, but that isn’t enough. it’s chilling: no matter how “useful” or technically capable calliope is, the feelings of emptiness and despair remain. maybe she’ll always feel that way. 

even more brutally, alt!calliope literally tells her that she doesn’t serve any purpose except to prompt others to be helpful. she says flat-out that calliope isn’t “relevant” anymore.

that’s got to be incredibly hard for callie to hear, given how desperate she’s always been to help others. being trapped in a state of passivity for most of her life, not even always in control of her own body, calliope clings dearly to the hope of someday reclaiming agency, and helping others. that hope probably resonated with a lot of the audience, too. to hear a more confident, more successful, more competent version of herself tell her that she isn’t useful at all is a brutal move. for someone with depression, especially, that could be a devastating thing to hear.

except here’s where the conversation shifts. instead of using this to insult calliope, alt!calliope turns this into something else, something uplifting: she says that not only is calliope’s irrelevance not a mark of her character, but that it gives her a unique and incredible opportunity. 

alt!calliope’s speech rejects the idea of an existence defined by one’s utility to others, and says instead that regardless of how useful calliope is, regardless of whether she realizes her full potential, and regardless of how much she contributes to some epic scheme, her life still has worth. the very fact of her existence gives her infinite opportunities to take chances and do things that alt!calliope, for all her competence, never could. 

it speaks to a very deeply rooted fear in a lot of people, i think: that somewhere out there is an alternate version of yourself that’s done everything right, and done everything better than you, and anything you do is fruitless because it’ll never be as good as it could be. that sentiment generates a lot of despair and self-loathing, and can make it hard to get motivated to do things you love. alt!calliope is that person, for callie, but this conversation says that it doesn’t matter. this conversation says that the one crucial difference between you and that theoretical person is this: you exist. you have the chance and the choice to do whatever you want. even if it isn’t perfect, even if it isn’t grandiose, even if you never change the world. your life is enough. you are enough.

[incalculablepower]

@hprecfest | week one

day one | a favourite fic under 5k

a dream of winter by Delphi (1.4k words) summary: Three glimpses into the life of Kendra Dumbledore. (An interpretation of the ambiguous description of the character in Deathly Hallows.)

One of my favourite things fanfiction is capable of is correcting canon -- not just in no-one-dies fix-it fics, but by taking clumsy exposition at its word and expanding on it. This fic takes the odd description of Kendra Dumbledore in DH and breathes life into her as a Mohawk woman living on Godric's Hollow.

day two | a comfort fic

the secret diary of hugo granger-weasley, aged thirteen and a half by @floreatcastellumposts summary: Rose says that I am an oblivious moron, but would an oblivious moron have such a deep and sensitive diary? I don't think so. No one knows how I suffer in this ridiculous family. Written for SIYE's The Burrow Secret Challenge 2016, and inspired by Sue Townsend's Adrian Mole.

A particularly great comfort read for this time of year: Hugo, who Flo characterizes perfectly as an awkward, oblivious, serious teenager with a diary, tries to get to the bottom of a mystery at the centre of a busy Weasley Christmas.

day three | a podfic

the last enemy by @shootwithintenttokill @chdarling's Marauder's series is already one I recommend to everyone (even non-fanfic reading HP fans) and @shootwithintenttokill's undertaking of turning it into a podfic is so impressive. New chapters are slotted into my regular podcast listening routine and they're an excellent way to re-read TLE and pick up on all the wonderful foreshadowing in CH's fic.

day four | a fic with art

no amount of therapy can help by The_wig_is_a_metaphor summary: The entire internet is aware of occultist youtuber Lord Voldemort's infatuation with niche content creator JustHarry. The entire internet is baffled.

This is a Muggle HarryMort Youtube AU told epistolary-style with screenshots, comments, text threads, and it's the funniest thing I've ever read. Every single icon and screenshot is a joke and I still find new things to laugh at on every reread. As a bonus, this fic inspired one of my very favourite confused-bi!Ron-Romione Muggle AUs, HOW TO BUILD WATER WHEEL by doshu

day five | a non-ao3 fic

not as a last resort by Arabella summary: Hermione and Ron, a snowstorm, and Hagrid's cabin. Takes place during fifth year. This story was written prior to the release of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix."

Now only available on a wayback machine capture of sugarquill.net, one of my first favourite fics and my introduction to the "only one bed trope"! This fic surprisingly holds up, despite being written before half the series' worth of characterization. Some things make me laugh looking back (like the fanfic writers' steadfast belief that the yule ball would be an annual event) but overall it's just as sweet and romantic as the first time I read it when I was 14.

day six | an unreliable narrator fic

the disappointments of cormac mclaggen by morgs_writes(orphan_account) summary: Cormac McLaggen has a hard life, made even worse when Ron Weasley starts stealing everything Cormac desires.

Oh Cormac, HUGE BOY, one of my problematic faves, thinks he's the one who holds all the power when it comes to the Slug Club holiday party. 🙄

day seven | a canon compliant fic

the mountain tomb by @nought-shall-go-ill summary: A man and a woman meet at the base of a mountain. With no memories, they don’t know each other, they don’t know their past, they don’t even know their own names. All they know is that they have a difficult journey ahead that they must take together — one that they fear could destroy them in the process.

Since I read a lot of canon-compliant fic I wanted to choose something for this rec that really pushes the boundaries of what that can mean. This fic is misty and ambiguous and fantastical (even for fanfic of a fantasy series) and so worth reading.

[abrthephantomq]

Alex is High & Live Streaming - Chapter 1

October 8th, Sunday, 4:24 pm

I’ve been cycling various pieces we’re working on – Stellar, Just Talk, Little Green Men, Dear John… Well, those are the original pieces. I’m not including the Legendborn fanfic Cas’d started, or our fanfics for the Shared ‘Verse that we’d started months and months ago, but we looked at some of those, too. 

Writing is a fucking pain in the ass. Doing it every day is a pain in the ass. I understand that we need to do it. I understand the idea is to get us into the habit of writing, even when we don’t feel like it. It’s also to get us into the habit of not paying attention to word count, because paying attention to word count as opposed to time spent writing in the past meant we burnt ourselves the fuck out on it. 

And that was when we were working full time, too. 

I have no idea how I did any of that. How we did any of that. Fresh out of a divorce. Working at least 32 hours a week, depending on which job we were talking about. SIngle parenting our autistic child and housing our addict brother and his long-term girlfriend. 

Like, yeah, we’re a fucking DID System. Surviving is what the System is fucking built for. Emotional needs get fucking pushed aside for the sake of just pushing through and getting to the next moment we can fucking breathe. Over and over and over again. 

DID Systems are also built for stealth. Ten years ago, I would’ve denied the possibility that we were one. And I was well aware that DID Systems could actually fucking exist – I’d even met a couple of people (online) who were Systems themselves. Hell, I remember the first time I’d even heard of Multiple Personality Disorder – thanks, Maury Povich. 

Imagine it: Little Alexander Briar Rose, approximately age 11, maybe age 12. Tilting their head sideways a little as they watch a woman with a supposed 300 alters switch from one alter to the other and thinking to themselves: 

“...That’s not how it works, though?” 

We never examined that thought further. 

And at the time we’d already started writing. All the time. In notebooks, on loose leaf paper, on any flat, thin surface we could put pen on. Read everything we could get our hands on, too. We were a particularly big fan of Goosebumps, Animorphs, and The Secret World of Alex Mack. 

It’s hilarious, now, to think back on that particular era of our life. Goosebumps – Cas. Animorphs – me. The Secret World of Alex Mack – Alicia. 

Andrew likely had existed back then, too, but we wouldn’t recognize him as separate until high school. 

Or, well. 

I wouldn’t recognize him. Cas did. Alicia, well. 

Alicia didn’t recognize any of us as separate. We were characters. I was “Leg,” she was “Arm,” and Andrew was “Hip,” and Cas was “Jazz.” 

So she gave him recognition. But y’know, not in the way that would make anyone raise a fucking eyebrow. After all, at around the age of 6-7, we learned that talking to ourselves out loud was something that people looked at you kinda funny for.

And we were juuuuust high masking enough as an autistic child to realize maybe we shouldn’t do that. At least, when other people weren’t around. And somehow as an itty bitty child we realized that writing in a journal back and forth was probably a bad idea, too. So we wrote a normal journal. Detailing what happened that day or whenever we felt the need to. Y’know. Like a normal kid.

Chances are our mother probably read the journals we did keep in elementary school. 

Mom wasn’t really that big on letting her kids have privacy. 

At least, to some degree. She didn’t frequently read things that were private, but she did it just sporadically enough – especially once we were a teenager – that it makes me wonder if the only reason I think that is because we didn’t catch her, all the other times. 

Granted, I think she would’ve said something, if she’d read half the fics we were writing by the time we were twelve or thirteen years old. By then we’d figured out that fanfiction exists, and that people could be gay. Or even bi! 

Our first few fics that we posted dealt with angst, depression, suicide. Rape was a common theme, same with domestic abuse and violence. Discrimination based on someone’s sexual identity. 

And then I started watching Invader fucking Zim, and I was obsessed. Enemies to lovers paradise, that show, if you’re a baby queer. A baby monster-fucker, even, though that was a realization that wouldn’t hit me until much, much later. 

Some of those fanfics still exist on fanfiction.net. ArmAndLeg. You’re welcome for the time capsule. Every once in a while I wander over to that account, consider deleting all of my old works, and think better of it. 

They’re a microcosm of the various issues I – we – weren't ready to tackle yet. Things I was aware of and hyper-fixated on as a teenaged writer and never fully understood why until I was much, much older and we started deconstructing our trauma history.

I wasn’t the only one of us who wrote. Alicia wrote, too, back then. I think technically you could say that all of the writing we did back then was writing we did together – some of them were just more clearly influenced by me and the things I wanted to write about, and the others were more clearly influenced by her and the things she wanted to write about. 

And then we started dating our ex-wife sophomore year of high school and writing slowly but surely eroded as a hobby of ours. Marching band and sucking our ex-wife’s dick became more important. 

I’m being crass, but the fact remains that a shitty decision I made nearly twenty years ago, at this point, nearly completely destroyed…. All of us. It did destroy Alicia. It nearly ripped the only way we processed emotions safely completely from our life, too. 

Our ex-wife had high expectations of us. She wanted us to be masculine, where she was feminine. She wanted us to take charge, be the “man” of the relationship – all behind closed doors, of course, because she hadn’t realized she was trans yet. And then when she was seventeen she’d decided to join the Delayed Entry Program for the USMC. 

Within a couple of months of that, she decided that our relationship was toxic. That I was toxic. So she broke up with us – with me. Right before Christmas break.

And I mean, in some ways, she wasn’t wrong? Teenagers are fucking toxic, inherently, unintentionally. They’re sponges just like their itty bitty under 10 year old selves. They’re just sponges that are adult-shaped, as our best friend John would say. And I hadn’t realized that my boyfriend (remember, she didn’t know she was trans yet) was actually becoming an abusive piece of shit. So our relationship was definitely toxic.

See, what I had actually done was that whole – “I can fix him,” – thing. And Alicia agreed with me. We had some communication back and forth between our parts back then, but again – Alicia never thought we were actually separate personality states. I was either Leg, or Savin, or that annoying voice in her head, but I wasn’t, y’know, an actual separate person.

And I mean…. I’m not? All of us are technically the exact same person, we all live in the same fucking body, for fuck’s sake. 

But Steven, you might be asking yourself – why are you referring to her as your ex-wife when you clearly broke up in high school? 

That’s because, dear reader, we just kept fucking. A handful of days after Christmas, Carolyn (not her real name) wanted to hang out. Drove us in her shitty little Mazda econo-box of a car to a secluded corner of a park that wasn’t attached to either of our neighborhoods. 

Hey, have your hormones been all out of whack since we broke up? 

No? I mean, yes, if you consider the fact that I haven’t been horny at all… 

I was the horny one, obvs. I’m still the horny one. It’s literally how all of the System defines me at this point: “Steven’s the horny one.” 

Um, no. I’m not, actually. I’m just occasionally really horny, and I also was blessed with the fucking sense of humor of a 13 year old boy and like playing around with sexual innuendos (in your endo) because I think it’s fucking hilarious. But – it’s occasionally, I really only save the sexual innuendo comments for those who aren’t offended by that kind of thing, and generally, my imagination nowadays is better than actually having sex with another human being.

But after Carolyn broke up with us, I was appropriately fucking heartbroken. Alicia was appropriately fucking heartbroken. Neither one of us had even thought of sex, the entire week or so between her, “Our relationship is toxic and I’m breaking up with you,” and, “Have your hormones been all out of whack?” 

So, naturally, we ended up having sex in that tiny Mazda econo-box car. Because I was seventeen years old and stupid, like all seventeen year olds are. 

The sex didn’t stop. But we still weren’t dating. We sure as fuck argued like we were dating; she still critiqued every single thing we did, the entire time we weren’t dating. 

It continued until we graduated high school, and she shipped off to Parris Island, South Carolina, for bootcamp shortly after. During bootcamp, she apparently prayed to God to give her guidance. 

Oh, she’d kissed our best friend Melissa, the night before she shipped off, by the way. Which I found out after the fact, because Melissa is – well, was, as she died in a car accident at the ripe ol’ age of 24 – a true friend. And understood that we still had feelings for Carolyn, and that maybe we’d want to know that she’d kissed her. 

On top of that, Carolyn had asked her out. And she didn’t know what kind of response she should give her. 

I argued for dating Carolyn. I thought maybe Carolyn would treat Melissa the way she needed to be treated.

And then Cas told her that before she makes her decision, though, she should know that Carolyn had continued to sleep with me during our senior year of high school. Something that Carolyn had not told her. Or anyone else. 

(I say Cas was the one who told her, because now I can tell that he did it in that, “I’m telling this because you’re my friend,” kind of way, but he really just wanted to be petty and sabotage Carolyn’s trying to get with Melissa because Carolyn’d been such a huge ass to me/us. He’d never liked her, had always argued for how she was abusive, and no one else ever listened to him about it.)

(When I tell you he’s still bitter about it, he’s still a little bitter about it.)

Anyway. 

Melissa said she’d write Carolyn a letter turning her down. And really, at the time, everyone thought Carolyn was still a boy. A man. Whatever term you feel comfortable using for a 17-about-to-turn-18 year old. 

And Mel’s a lesbian. She just hadn’t figured that out yet. But also, kinda ironic, because Carolyn ended up being trans, but… y’know.

So – to bring me back to the one tangent I was on. Carolyn had asked God for guidance.

That question was about whether she should date Melissa, or us. 

And then Melissa turned her down. 

She asked us back out. Said she’d realized that during the course of the however fucking long she was at bootcamp at the time, that she’d not given us a real chance. That she loved us, and wanted to get back together.

I cried. Alicia cried. I think Cas cried, too, but in that “oh fucking goddamnit no,” kind of way. Andrew was probably like oh score, someone who’ll throw us around like a rag doll and leave bruises on our body while fucking the shit out of us (he really likes it rough). 

Of course, there were more than just the 4 of us, even back then. But I honestly stopped keeping track of the others. Cas kept track of some, through high school, instead, but he didn’t get all of their names. Or they’ve been, ah, partially-integrated with the Main 4, in the sense that they’re very much still a part, and they do have a voice, but their voices are filtered through us. 

Being a System is complicated. And there’s not really a whole lot of our childhood and teenaged years that we remember in detail enough to piece together. As a queer, neurodivergent kid in the 90’s and early 00’s, there was….just a fucking lot, that happened. 

I took her back, by the way. Obviously. And not even a full year later after I received that letter and sent it back, we were getting married. I was nineteen years old. She was still eighteen. 

She was old enough to go to war, and we were old enough to get married, but neither one of us were old enough to get drunk at the wedding reception. 

Make it make sense. 

(I can’t make it make sense. I’m never going to make it make sense, we were teenagers. Human brains aren’t done developing until at least 25, and now there’s evidence that maybe it goes on into our 30’s… how the fuck could we have known what we were getting ourselves into?) 

Anyway. 

In the past 3 years since Andrew and I stepped forward in a way that Alex could not reasonably handwave away, we’ve come to learn that there’s about 20 of us. We’re not even sure if that’s actually the right number – I get the sense that it’s actually lower than that, now. That some folks merged or something like that.

We’re not under insane amounts of stress, anymore, since we stopped working back in February. Yes we’re stressed and anxious, still, but now we’re also on Zoloft and have hydroxyzine for our fucking severe panic attacks. We’ve been doing a lot of mental health work, attending therapy weekly, doing Shadow Work on our own, exploring our spirituality as a group and learning how to reshape our reality so that it’s less…fucked up. 

But – we’ll go with 20. We were sexually abused as a young child, our mother was not…well, she felt like an emotionally supportive parent, but she really kind of wasn’t, in retrospect, and we were heavily bullied by one of the girls in our catholic school class from kindergarten through fifth grade – because we were neurodivergent and didn’t know it. 

You wanna know how many of us there were before we met Carolyn? 

Five. 

You wanna know how many of us there were in 2014, when we finally moved out of Carolyn’s house and started living on our own? 

Sixteen. Seventeen? Alex was the last of the ones Carolyn caused. Either way – 11-12 of us, all because of our ex-wife. 

Number 18 came in 2018, during a horrendous fight we had with John – we were dating back then, I saw them as abusive, Cas did not. Cas believed that we could turn things around – that they were actually capable of learning how to do better, same as we were. (He was right.)

Numbers 19 and 20 happened at the same time – or well, I suspect that 19 actually happened earlier, but we didn’t know about them until 20 showed up. Either way, we became aware of them in February/March, 2023. After we’d had this huge, huge panic attack on our physical birthday that caused us to go to the ER because we literally thought we were dying of a stroke. 

I’d explained it to John once that even though I stopped keeping track of all the times the “thread” split off in different directions, I could still feel roughly when those splits happened. And yes, I know it’s not actually splitting, if you go off the current theory of Structural Dissociation – where y’know, as a kid we all start out as having multiple parts that eventually merge into one cohesive identity – but “splitting” is how I’ve conceptualized that deep nick that prevents the pieces from fitting together anymore. 

I feel like I mixed my metaphors together, there. Eh. You guys understand what I mean. 

If you followed all of that, I commend you, honestly. It’s gonna get weird from here on out. 

– Steven

[clairetalon]

Masterpost for active stories

So, I figured I’d create this pinned post in case you’re interested in finding and reading anything I write. I’ll try to list all the current stories that get regular new chapters and where to find them, plus update it when I produce other stuff. Pretty much all of them are drama stories (either fantasy or sci-fi) with action/adventure and F/F romantic elements. You can click the titles to get to the story links

Fanfiction 

(Posted on: My AO3 account. When: Roughly once a week for each)

The Moths Who Chased Fate Fandom: Honkai Impact 3rd Main characters: Kallen Kaslana, Yae Sakura + most Thirteen Flame-Chasers and CE characters + a couple of HSR and Genshin ones Summary: An alternative world where PE Sakura and Kallen try to forcibly alter their fate, to escape the cycle of humanity’s doom by going into another reality. (sequel to Of Moths And Roses) Dragonblood Fandom: Elder Scrolls V - Skyrim Main characters: Yarun Svalen (Female Nord/Redguard Dovahkiin), Serana, Tarinwe Kaereah'eylin Ayrennith (Female Altmer OC) Summary: My canon-divergent version of Skyrim’s storyline, with the former legionnaire, Yarun, as the Dovahkiin and her entering the political powder keg that is Skyrim in the Fourth Era, where Serana is the only one she can trust A Realm Sundered Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Main characters: Joltin Dazkar (Female Au ra Warrior of Light), Y'shtola Rhul, Lyse Hext, Kjat Sja-naris (Trans-female Viera OC), Jhera Rakkan (Female Miqo'te OC), Fordola Hext Summary: A split story of my heavily canon-divergent version of FFXIV’s plot. Follows the journey and creation of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on one side, and the imperial Battalion Subzero performing spec ops missions against Eorzea on the other. Dawn of the Damned Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Main characters:  Zal'riva Vivees (Female Twi'lek Sith Warrior), Valcera Nih'etat (Female Mirialan Sith Inquisitor), Ktila (Female Chiss Jedi Knight) Summary: More canon-divergence, this time in a revised version of the original SWTOR plot, but with fewer paths, different masters, different companions and intermingled with characters from previously separate stories. Follows the two former slaves Zal’riva and Valcera on their dissimilar journeys as Sith, plus the Jedi Ktila who finds her fate cursed by the most dangerous Force entity in the galaxy.

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Original fiction

(the full epub and Kindle versions with cover images etc get posted later on to Amazon and other digital book stores, seen on my linktree)

A Eulogy to Ahjula: First Verse Posted on: My Wattpad account When: Roughly once a week Main characters: Eyren Katlattar, Nivra, Malkiz, Hiekari Izoru nå Kevalen, Imtoryat Kohja namek Zawósk, Easfan, Soraya Summary: A once flourishing continent was devastated by a sudden darkness that fell from the sky, known as the Shadow Herd, which shattered the Ahterilion Empire that ruled the land. Here in the aftermath, where lords fight over remnant power and monsters roam forbidden areas, a young former knight named Eyren is providing her services to those who cannot fight for themselves. What she doesn’t expect is that Fate is watching her stride and her journey is about to take a monumental turn. By the Unshackled Flame Posted on: My Wattpad account When: Roughly every 2-3 weeks Main characters: Eireki, Miva’yon Summary: The story of the witch Miva’yon and her necromantically resurrected companion, the former holy knight Eireki, as Miva’yon tries to travel a land filled with depraved necromancers, strict mage academies and zealous churches, in her journey to find the freedom from a world which rejects her

[bluehoodiewoozi]

BlueHoodieWoozi Masterlist

PS! Search “avy recommends” on my blog for some great fanfiction works by other authors!

♡ OT13

Serenity Street 17 (ongoing!)

Reactions

Drabble series:

THIRTEEN DAYS, THIRTEEN ALTERNATE UNIVERSES

AUTUMN SEMESTER DRABBLE MARATHON

♡  SEUNGCHEOL

drabbles:

“My Pillow Doesn’t Smell Like You Anymore” [350 words /// fluff]

“I Hate Laundry Day” [547 words /// fluff, jealousy]

♡  JEONGHAN

coming soon

drabbles:

"Can't you feel the sparks?" [437 words /// royal au, angsty?]

♡  JOSHUA

drabbles:

“Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.” [690 words /// fluff]

"I'm yours" [511 words /// soulmate au]

♡  JUNHUI

coming soon

♡  SOONYOUNG

Double Trouble (6k)

[Platonic Hogwarts!AU] Hufflepuff!Soonyoung might be too curious for his own good. He enlists the help of an equally enthusiastic and curious Ravenclaw to solve the mystery of the several odd disappearances of one Kim Mingyu.

“Right? Right.” (13,5k)

[Soulmate!AU] Your soulmate mark might be broken, but at least he will always be there for you. 

drabbles:

“Where are you going? Don’t go.” [440 words // fluff]

♡  WONWOO

coming soon

♡  JIHOON

Broken Pieces (5.3k)

[Soulmate!AU] Your friend broke your soulmate’s heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of both his and your own heart.

Neverending (14k)

[College/University AU] With the help of his friends' advice, Jihoon goes on a quest to become the best boyfriend he can be.

If You Want Me (1.8k)

[Established Relationship AU] You find a strange box in your boyfriend’s drawer and it brings forth a life-changing event.

drabbles:

“Will You Nap With Me?” [935 words /// fluff]

“That’s... That’s not yours.” [356 words /// fluff]

“I read somewhere that red roses mean love.” [1.1k words /// fluff]

♡  SEOKMIN

coming soon

♡  MINGYU

Fools in Love (10.5k)

[College/University AU] When Jeonghan made you declare a stranger in the library your new boyfriend, you had a very different outcome in your mind.

drabbles:

“In the Cereal Aisle? Really?” [722 words // fluff]

"I'm gonna make him sorry." [715 words // fluff]

♡  MINGHAO

coming soon

drabbles:

“Choose me.” [263 words // ???]

♡  SEUNGKWAN

The Beach House (9.7k)

[Enemies to Lovers AU] Maybe Vernon made a mistake by inviting both you and Seungkwan to the beach house, or maybe he was smarter than the two of you combined.

drabbles:

"I love you, I hope you know that" [565 words /// fluff, comfort]

♡  VERNON

drabbles:

“Can you teach me?” [371 words /// fluff]

♡  CHAN

coming soon

[emma-m-black]

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Seventeen

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

Soooo I have 20 Chapters written for Part One written, and there is a Part Two underway, but I am so excited for Chapters 18 & 19 because they will be snippets of Giles's point of view since Chapter 1 eek!

____

Author Master List

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen,

Chapter Seventeen:

Rose lowered herself gingerly into the chair at the library table, wincing as her muscles protested every movement. Her whole body ached after being thrown across the library during last night’s battle at the Hellmouth. Despite the soreness, she knew she had come out the least injured—everyone else had taken harder hits. Everyone except Xander, whom they’d wisely left out of the fight to keep him safe. She tried to sit still, but even the slight movement of breathing sent sharp reminders of her bruises rippling through her.

“Here,” came Giles’s soft voice, his presence a calming contrast to the aches of the day. He held out a steaming cup of tea, the familiar scent of chamomile filling the air.

The warmth of the tea radiated into her palms the moment she took it. “Thank you,” she whispered, her lips curving into a faint smile as she accepted it. Her fingers brushed against his during the handoff, a brief touch, but it sent a ripple of warmth through her that had nothing to do with the tea. It was a touch that lingered, sparking feelings she hadn’t fully come to terms with yet. She forced herself to focus on the tea rather than the tugging sensation that always seemed to stir whenever Giles was too close.

Since that night on the porch, she and Giles had stumbled into what she privately called the “we’re-just-going-to-forget-we-slept-together-and-be-friends-again” stage. It was safer that way, simpler. They acted as if nothing had happened between them. But it didn’t stop the memories from clawing their way back at the worst times—like now. She remembered the heat of his skin, the weight of his hands, the way his eyes had darkened as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered. The intimacy had been brief, but the tension between them hadn’t disappeared.

She shoved the thoughts down and cleared her throat.

Giles settled into the chair across from her, his own cup of tea cradled in his hands. He pulled a thick tome closer and began rifling through the stack of books spread across the table. “Hopefully we can figure out the final components of the unbinding spell before the others return from patrol,” he said, his brow furrowing as he scanned the ancient pages.

“That would be nice.” Rose winced as she shifted in her seat, trying to find a position that didn’t send a sharp pain through her ribs. “I’m getting tired of not being able to pee without someone standing outside the stall door. There’s a limit to how much ‘safety’ a girl needs.”

Giles, just in the middle of a sip of tea, choked, sputtering as his cheeks flushed with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “Yes, well...” He set his cup down quickly, clearly flustered, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That would indeed be... quite uncomfortable.”

Rose glanced up through her lashes, hiding a smirk. There was something endlessly amusing about catching Giles off guard, watching his formalities crumble just a little. She took another sip of her tea, trying to suppress the grin spreading across her face. “You’re far too easy to tease sometimes, Rupert.”

He shot her a sidelong glance, his expression hovering somewhere between exasperation and fondness. “Yes, well,” he muttered, his voice carrying a touch of affection despite his attempt to remain stern, “some people are incorrigible.”

A soft chuckle escaped her. “It’s one of my better qualities, you know.”

“Brat,” he mumbled, but there was no real bite to it, just a familiar warmth, a fondness that made her heart twist in her chest.

For a while, the conversation faded into a comfortable silence, the soft sound of turning pages and the occasional clink of a teacup the only interruptions. It was a reprieve, a quiet moment that Rose found herself cherishing more than she’d ever admit. In these rare pockets of calm, it was easy to forget the complexities hanging over them—the unspoken feelings, the dangerous threats, and the inevitable battles looming on the horizon. Here, in the quiet, they could just be... them. Two people sharing tea and searching for a solution that would hopefully save them all.

Then, something in the passage she was reading snagged her attention. A spark of hope flared in her chest. “This... this might work,” she muttered to herself, her eyes widening as she scanned the lines again, her pulse quickening.

“What is it?” Giles’s voice was immediate, his focus snapping to her. His tea forgotten, he leaned forward, watching her with intense curiosity.

Without thinking, Rose shoved back her chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, and hurried over to his side of the table. She slammed the book down in front of him, leaning in so close that her shoulder brushed his. “Look,” she said, her voice thick with excitement as she pointed to the passage.

Giles’s eyes followed her finger, and he bent closer to read the text. His face was inches from hers, so close she could see the way his breath stirred the strands of hair near her face. His concentration was palpable as he scanned the lines, his brow furrowing. After a moment, his lips parted in a slow smile, the kind of smile that made her breath hitch in her throat.

“This… this could work,” he said softly, a note of relief threading through his voice. He reached up, sliding his glasses off and turning to face her fully. His smile widened, a spark of triumph dancing in his eyes.

Rose’s heart skipped a beat as she realized how close she was standing to him. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the subtle scent of his cologne mixing with the warmth of the tea. His gaze dropped, briefly flicking to her lips before snapping back to her eyes, and she felt the ground shift beneath her. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to back away before the moment slipped into something more.

But she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her entire body felt like it was caught in some invisible current, drawn to him despite the warning bells ringing in her mind. The connection between them crackled in the air, too real, too close, and for a heartbeat, the world outside the two of them ceased to exist.

She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat, could see the soft twitch of his fingers as if he was fighting the urge to close the distance between them. And for one terrifying moment, she wanted him to. She wanted to let the dam break, to let all the tension and unsaid things spill out into the open.

But just as the tension seemed about to snap, the sound of laughter echoed from down the hallway, and the library doors creaked open.

Rose pulled herself back, instinctively putting some distance between herself and Giles, though her pulse was still racing. She tried to focus, but the want for him to reach up, grasp her cheek, and kiss her flashed vividly in her mind. She swallowed hard, pushing the thought aside as best she could. Clearing her throat, she turned to the group, offering a casual distraction.

“How was patrolling?” she asked, though her voice betrayed the slight tremor of someone who was far from casual, barely masking the intensity of her earlier thoughts.

“Boring. Seems like everything took the night off,” Buffy replied, sounding almost disappointed as she unloaded her weapons into the cage.

“Maybe because we handled the Hellmouth last night,” Willow suggested brightly, “all the big baddies were like, ‘Oh, we can’t take them—best move on to the next town.’”

“Or,” Xander cut in with his usual sarcasm, “it’s because Rose’s creepy family was out in full force tonight.” He threw himself into a chair, his tone more serious than usual.

A chill crawled up Rose’s spine at his words. She grimaced, nodding in reluctant agreement. “I think they know they only have one shot. They’re waiting for everyone to gather. They want it to be... perfect.”

“You mean there’s more of them?” Xander asked, eyebrows raised.

Rose rubbed her temples, feeling the weight of the coven’s presence. “Yeah, I can feel them. Every time more of them get closer, it’s like I’m... more connected to the coven’s power. It’s stronger.” She glanced around at her friends, who watched her with concern. She wished she could tell them she was okay, but she wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

Giles slipped his glasses off, the faint glint of worry etched into his features. “Well, hopefully we won’t have to worry much longer. Rose may have found the spell we need to sever her connection to the coven, and take their power with her.”

Willow’s face lit up. “See? I knew that spell was in these books somewhere!” she said, bouncing excitedly on her feet.

Rose smiled weakly, but her heart wasn’t in it. The closer they got to a solution, the more the dread inside her gnawed at the edges of her mind.

“There’s a catch, of course,” Giles added gravely, his eyes scanning the room. “The ritual requires it be performed on sacred ground. So we won’t be able to do it in the protection of the house.”

Buffy’s resolve kicked in, her Slayer instincts kicking into full gear. “What do you need from us?” she asked, stepping closer to Willow.

Giles rose from his chair and disappeared into his office. When he returned, he had a notepad in hand, scribbling a list of ingredients. He tore the sheet off and handed it to Willow. “We’ll need these things from The Magic Box tomorrow. Rose and I will stick together and gather the rest. It will take twenty-four hours of preparation for the potion to set.”

“Can do,” Willow said confidently, looking over the list. “They should have all this in stock.”

“Then we’ll meet at Buffy’s home at noon,” Giles said, glancing over at Rose. “And hopefully, by Sunday night, this will all be over.”

“Is it really safe for the two of you to be on your own?” Buffy asked, the question holding a double meaning, it was not just their safety the Slayer was worried about but the fact that Giles and Rose still seemed to hold some more personal connection.

“There are some things I need to discuss with Rose about the ritual and the risks that go along with it, I think it would be best to have that discussion in private there are-“ But Giles’s voice became distant and soon Rose felt her thoughts slipping further away from the conversation. Her gaze drifted toward a scuff on the wall, her heart heavy with an unshakable fear. What if this didn’t work? What if the separating herself from the coven wasn’t enough?

An itch crawled up her spine, something dark stirring at the back of her mind. She could feel the weight of her family’s sinister intent pressing in on her. They were biding their time, waiting to strike when she was most vulnerable. Her family needed to kill her in just the right way to preserve the power of the goddess for the coven. But if she cut herself off from the coven in another way... if she died before the ritual... would that stop them? That is why they kept her safe this whole time.

Her heart clenched painfully as the reality settled in her chest. Could she sacrifice herself? Could she end it all—her life, her bloodline, everything—if it meant keeping her friends safe? If it meant protecting Giles? Her thoughts swirled in an agonizing storm. She knew the answer, deep down. If it came down to it... she would do it. She would sacrifice herself, no hesitation. She would never let them hurt Giles. She would die before that happened.

Her breath hitched as the decision anchored itself in her heart, and the enormity of it left her trembling inside.

“Rose?” Giles’s voice pierced through her haze, his hand lightly resting on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch startled her, pulling her abruptly from her dark thoughts.

“What?” she whispered, blinking up at him as if just realizing where she was.

Giles tilted his head, concern etched deep into his eyes. “Are you ready to leave?”

Rose stared at him for a moment, trying to shake the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. The urge to reach out, to tell him everything, burned in her throat, but she couldn’t burden him with that. Not now. Not when everything was hanging by a thread.

“Rose, are you alright?” Giles asked softly, his worry deepening as he searched her face.

She forced a smile, giving her head a small shake as if to clear the fog in her mind. “Yes,” she lied. “I’m ready to leave.”

Xander took Rose’s car as the Scoobies made their way to the Summers’ residence, while Giles, quiet and tense, held the door open for Rose to slip into the passenger seat of his own car. As soon as they were driving, Rose turned to study the man next to her. His jaw was tightly set, and his knuckles had gone white from gripping the steering wheel too hard.

“Rupert, what’s going on?” Her voice wavered, sensing the tension, but Giles didn’t answer. The silence felt heavy, ominous.

“Why aren’t I going to Buffy��s?” she asked again, her brow furrowing.

“Willow and I spelled my residence for protection,” Giles replied, his tone clipped and unreadable.

“But that doesn’t explain why I’m going there. Besides, The Magic Box has everything we need,” she pressed, turning her body fully toward him now, desperate to understand why he seemed so troubled.

Still, no answer.

“Rupert...” she said softly, a hint of panic creeping into her voice, “you’re scaring me.” There was a fragile quiver in her tone, betraying the fear clawing at her chest.

His silence broke at last. “I thought perhaps,” he began, his voice low and strained, “you would want to see your father. One last time... before everything.”

Rose’s confusion deepened. “My father? But you said your place?”

“When we performed the spell, your father was within the protective circle of my house,” Giles explained, his voice measured, though tension rippled beneath each word. “Which means he’s been able to come and go safely. As much as I despise Cole, I couldn’t let anything happen to him. I didn’t want to see you lose any more of your family than you already have.”

Rose stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. His words hit her with the weight of a confession she hadn’t expected. “You... you’ve been protecting my father?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, the enormity of it sinking in.

“Since Buffy’s birthday, yes.” Giles’ tone was gruff, but there was no mistaking the tenderness behind his actions.

Rose felt a rush of emotions swell inside her—surprise, gratitude, guilt. Her chest tightened, and she blinked rapidly as moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Rupert,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you...” The words came out broken, thick with the sudden realization of everything he had done for her. Giles had protected her father—a man he loathed—for her sake. He had sheltered him, ensuring his safety, even while knowing the depths of her family’s betrayal.

In that moment, Rose felt something shift. Giles had taken care of her in ways she hadn’t even realized. His loyalty, his devotion—there was so much more to him than she had ever allowed herself to see. The realization left her raw, vulnerable.

The rest of the ride passed in thick, contemplative silence. When they pulled up in front of Giles’ home, Rose immediately felt the presence of her family nearby. Their magic hummed faintly in the distance, like a static charge in the air. As she gazed out into the darkness, she could make out shadowy figures scattered across the surrounding streets, sentries no doubt placed there to keep watch on her father’s movements.

“Come on,” Giles said quietly as he gathered a book from the back seat, then gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The weight of his arm was steady, grounding her, even as her mind swirled with uncertainty. Together, they moved toward the front door, his protection a quiet, constant presence beside her.

Inside the dimly lit house, Rose’s eyes immediately found him—her father. Cole stood near the window, his figure tense, as though he had been keeping vigil. When his eyes met hers, something softened in his expression.

“Daddy,” Rose whispered, her voice small, fragile. The formal tension in her posture melted, and before she could stop herself, she rushed across the room and into his open arms. All the anger and betrayal faded, if only for a moment, as she collapsed into the safety of his embrace. She let herself believe, just for a few precious seconds, that everything would be okay, that this was all just a nightmare she could wake up from.

“Rose,” her father breathed, his voice heavy with guilt as he held her close. He pulled back, just enough to look down at her, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry... for everything.”

Rose swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to forgive him, wanted to believe that the man who had once been her protector was still there, despite everything that had happened. Tears welled in her eyes as she blinked up at him, her resolve hardening. “It’s okay,” she whispered, though her voice shook. “I have a way to stop all of this.”

Cole’s gaze searched hers, worry creasing his brow. “How?”

“I’m going to stop the coven. I’m going to take away our magic... and put everything right.” Her voice was steady now, determination coursing through her veins. She felt stronger than she had in weeks. She would end this—no matter the cost.

As Rose stood there, wrapped in her father’s embrace, something profound settled over her. She realized that trust, once shattered, could be rebuilt—not through words, but through actions. Giles had protected her father for her. And now, standing here with him, she felt the warmth of that trust rekindle. She would save them all—even if it meant sacrificing herself.

Chapter Eighteen

[hood-ex]

Helloo i really like your fanfics and i wanted to start writing for nearly 10 years but never have. So can you give me some general tips? Also i ran out of good fics i cant find new ones to read so can you suggest some? (Dick centric or any batfam titans related ones would be great) hope i didnt ask too much :)

Sure, yeah! I've actually written a few posts on writing fanfics that you can take a look at:

Fanfiction 101

Filling in a plot structure

Building conflict around your villain

As for fics, I really haven't been reading any new batfam fics recently, but I will offer you two Dick and Donna stories. I think the first one's characterization is on par with The New Teen Titans characterization.

if you just call me by BeatriceEagle

“Dick.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Dick, look at me.”

Slowly, as if he were pushing against a terrible force, he lifted his head.

“I have known you since I was thirteen years old, and I have known you in a dozen other lifetimes, so I need you to believe me when I say that there is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”

Dick held her gaze. He looked like he was searching for something in her eyes, so Donna held still and hoped he found it.

“Did you really know me in other lives?” he asked.

i'll carry you 'til you carry on by Mayarene Rose (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)

It’s past noon and Dick still can’t bring himself to get out of bed and into the living room. He’s cocooned in the covers, not quite shivering from a non-existent cold but not quite warm, either. He’s been awake for a few hours already but the thought of even attempting to lift his head from his pillow is exhausting. It’s getting bad.

Not the worst he’s been but slowly getting there. He knows someone’s about to come bursting through the door soon. Someone always comes through the door. The Titans have a sixth sense for days like this. They never seem to hold it against him, no matter how much he thinks they should.

[randomsnakesimp]

Okay. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna take the leap and say: Phobos is the victim (sorta).

Quick disclaimer: I am going to abuse plot holes and cartoon logic for my cause in a very nitpicky way. If you dislike that, I can completely understand, and I hope this warning will save you a lot of reading.

Also, this won't go into just headcanon territory, I'll put those in a separate post. Everything here I'll try to keep based on actual information from the comics and what I made of them.

That said...

Let's take a look at this scene:

(for a quick translation of the important part, the mother says: "No, Phobos, Meridian is meant for your sister. That's the law. The crown is hers.)

What we can see here are a few very important things:

1. Phobos is at most 5 years older than Elyon.

2. The name "Phobos" is not an edgy nickname he gave himself. Five-year-olds don't go around calling themselves Phobos. So his parents, for some reason, gave him that name.

3. His mother is very adamant about him not even touching the crown and reminding him of his sisters' birthright.

So, after establishing what I would call more or less facts, what else can, relatively savely, be deduced here?

- Since Elyon never noticed anything weird about herself, she can't have aged slower than earth children. So neither can Phobos. This would mean that, as she was kidnapped after her mothers death as a baby, he would have been five. So, he either tried his best to rule at age five, or the council we see as Elyon rules stepped in for him for a while

- this would then mean two things: we need an explanation as to why Miriadel, Alborn and Galgheita fled explicitly from Phobos (I'll give my explanation a bit further down) and second, Phobos' reign of terror wasn't even thirteen years, and a lot of that time he was a child/teen and could not even have been mature enough to rule.

- This also means that Kandrakar pulled up the veil when Phobos was at most five, likely younger, and that the so called "Seal of Phobos" also existed at that time, as both the veil and the seal are seen in the flashback depicting Elyons abduction. For Kandrakar, this, too, I will try to explain soon, but as for the seal, I find it most plausible that the theory @ror-witch used in their fanfiction, of the seal being a royal heirloom and named after each ruler, is true.

- His and his mother's relationship was neither as bad as some assumptions go, but neither was it that good, probably, or at least it wasn't in his perception. See how his memory is of her cradling the baby the entire time and talking more about his sisters birthright than about what he has/can do? Yes, it's only a short memory, but I think it's clear that it's a summary of what he remembers of his mother.

- Phobos desire to rule Meridian does not stem from something deeply sinister, but rather from a childish spite. Five year old Phobos probably just wanted the crown cause it looked nice and shiny, and he was fabulous even back then, but after his mothers words, he sulked and decided to show her. That's his motivation.

So, now let's go a bit further and look at some other things we can deduce from the rest of the comics:

- Phobos has a huge dungeon, a wall of roses that turn people into more roses if they touch it and his plan for the annihilation of Meridian is "Well, Cedric and I hide in the castle and...we'll see". He hates the people of Meridian, but he doesn't seem to have it in him to directly attack anyone until Elyon is there and even here, when he has her knocked out in their duel or locked up as Endarno, he isn't unnecessarily cruel. He's not evil in nature, he's more of a very dangerous child throwing tantrums. ( Cedric is kinda similar, and they both start losing it toward the coronation, but I sincerely believe that before that, there would have been a chance for them to come around )

- The only person he ever tortures or even hurts directly is Cedric. Because one, he likes Cedric and so gets more extreme emotions around him, and two, Cedric never says anything, and just plays it of afterwards, so I don't know if he even fully realizes what he's doing, like a child hitting someone. If Cedric ever just said "Stop it, you're hurting me", Phobos would probably need an entire week to process that input.

- Phobos is VERY reclusive, and he doesn't want anyone to have even pictures of him, and while that could be a God complex, I get some highly insecure vibes out of it, in a vulnerable narcissist kinda way, in that he is massively overcompensating. I gotta admit, though, that I cannot put my finger on why, so maybe take this with a grain of salt and decide for yourself if you agree.

- Kandrakar never orders the guardians to help Meridian in any way, just to make sure nothing oozes out. They likely pulled up the veil for their own protection, so Phobos wouldn't be able to spread far enough to become a real danger, rather than to protect innocent people, as clearly the Meridian people mean shit to them

- while the guards are widely feared in Meridian, Cedric seems to be viewed as... not very frightening or important, as some random merchant feels comfortable clinging to his cape (and rightfully so, apparently, as Cedric just tells him to piss off and doesn't care any further). This further leads me to believe that Cedric is rather unhealthy devoted to Phobos and his tantrums while their shitty ass reign leaves a lot of free space for unsuited people to become guards and tyranize the people.

- the King and Queen seem to have died in rapid succession, and shortly after the scene shown above, yet she looks perfectly healthy in that scene.

Now, what do I make of all this?

I believe the line of events to be as follows:

I don't think Phobos traveling back in time is a viable theory for mainly two reasons: I think his mother would be less chill around him if she saw/heard about his reign herself, and I believe that it would have been mentioned somewhere along the way if that were the case. Instead, what I believe happened is that the oracle had a vague vision of Phobos nearly taking over Kandrakar. Deciding in their random mood swings that today was a day of action, they had the people of Meridian informed that the next male born to a queen would become a dangerous tyrant, pulled up a veil and set their guardians to make sure nothing oozed out.

The veil, of course, made the people of Meridian feel trapped and a horror of the unborn prince who would ruin their lives spread.

So, when Weira gave birth to that prince, a full blown panic spread, so much so that she, in a fit of hysterical emotion, named him after that boust of panic. Of course, people tried to kill the prince basically from the moment he was born, and he was met with barely concealed resentment.

Soon after, Weira and her husband died - whether they were killed, or fell ill, or died in an accident, I have no idea, but I wouldn't completely rule out an assassination either aimed at Phobos and accidentally hitting them or the strain making at least one of them fall terminally ill.

Either the people rioted and Phobos' magic panic reaction or the leftover loyal guard was enough to fight them back, or the people succumbed to their fate at this point, slumping into the state of despair seen throughout the comics. But in the end, five year old Phobos had to be handed the throne. I assume the council still had some say at this point, but he did manage to get all pictures of him destroyed - this order was likely due to the fact that they were mostly caricatures.

So he grew up with the very volatile combination of a shitton of power and no one able to tell him if he was being stupid on one hand, and feeling unloved and unwanted on the other. He withdrew, likely also due to countless assassination attempts or things he perceived as such, and went into a negative feedback loop of being unable to mature and take responsibility, therefore being a shit ruler, therefore being hated, therefore having no one to help him, therefore being unable to face and grow from his mistakes, rinse and repeat.

So, Meridian was plunged into chaos, yet he seemed fine more or less just sitting in the new playroom he made for himself in the gardens, sporadically giving out an order or two and having generally no idea about anything that didn't directly concern him.

Enter Elyon. Now, she send him of the rails, as she was a danger to his lifestyle AND a reminder of all the sentiments he'd be drowning in alcohol if he wasn't too much of a recluse and education denier to know of that option. He doesn't even try. He just lets Cedric, the one person he trusts, handle her, like everything else, and somewhat plays along sometimes, when he feels like it. This is where he passes the point of no return and starts actually trying to kill people, culminating in him creating an army to wipe out Meridian. I still believe that even at this point, in his head, what he's doing is just throwing a nice toy out the window just so his sister won't have it.