#cannot sing the praises of these fics and their authors enough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitsoa · 11 months ago

Note

I'd love to hear about all the fanfics that inspire you / you recommend

Yeah?? You're asking? Oh boy, I am so excited to share. This is my comprehensive fanfiction recommendation/inspiration guide.

Fandoms:

Trigun (current fixation)

Kingdom Hearts

The Legend of Zelda

Detective Conan

Danny Phantom

Criteria?

Chances are I have reread this stuff a few times. That's it. I love it. There are some that I have rose-tinted glasses about and I think there are a million more I just didn't list but I love fanfiction and just knowing these exist lets me work hard to indulge and enjoy on the things I love.

Trigun/ Trigun Stampede

The Second Celestial Evening series by tragic_unpaired_electron

Child of Blessing

Daughter of Eve

Season of the Witch

Multi-chapter. Complete. Gen.

A beautifully crafted series covering the complexities of Vash's place in the universe starts with a heart-tugging series covering Vash's growth into adulthood from Brad's perspective in "Child of Blessing". Then compelling and dark torture featuring ghost Tesla in "Daughter of Eve" and 'so good we had to share the fun'-- the Knives' redemption fic of all redemption fics in "Season of the Witch". Their plant biology headcanon, the masterful prose, and the vibrant character explorations are downright incredible.

Bloodletting series by tragic_unpaired_electron

The Pale Horseman

The Walls of Jericho

After Eden

Multi-Chapter. Complete. Gen.

Hands down the best Twin!Swap AU in all of Trigun fandom. It turns Nai into the most compelling, prickly, and surly protagonist. He pulls at your heartstrings and grows in ways you cannot fathom. There are twists and turns both inspired by canon and naturally spun from the various want-of-nail scenarios. Amazing headcanons and innovative and imaginative worlds and backgrounds. When I tell you that this Nai is one of my favorite characters of all time-- folks would think me blasphemous. I cannot sing the praises of this one enough. I love all their trigun work but this is my favorite. Sun, Moon, and Stars by tragic_unpaired_electron

Multi-chapter. Complete. Gen.

Tesla Lives AU with amazing character vignettes, imaginative worlds and characters and scenarios. And just an incredible message overall. If you want to chew on something by this author with a little less trauma and not as many total chapters this basically eases you into their genius. You get to really see how they roll with characterization.

the unknowable tomorrow by ScreechTheMighty

Multi-chapter. Unfinished. Gen.

Tristamp timetravel fic that turns Meryl and Wolfwood into little guardian angels to baby Vash. This makes my heart weep with fluffy feelings and emotions and the tension inherent to their being there is captivating. I love reading Vash through their perspective in this fic.

ten cent grace by fathomfive

Oneshot. Gen.

Trimax-ish. A plant sickness has Vash regress to childhood with no memories and only Wolfwood to cling to. It's such a great character retrospective and gives me feelings. Big brother Wolfwood. Strange but traumatized child Vash. It's written very well.

There are soooo many good trigun fics. I could actually keep going but I'll move on.

Kingdom Hearts

(i don't need you to) Worry for Me by Cygna_hime

Three-shot. Complete. Gen.

A freaking work of art. A Vanitas redemption story that humanizes and explores a character built on such wild extremes. Reading this made me cry. I fell absolutely in love with Vanitas and it explored the Wayfinder Trio in beautiful ways. It has great headcanons and world building. It's a rather long 3 chapters but it is an incredible ride. Islands Like Glass Towers by Organization VI

Multi-Chapter. Complete. Gen.

This is a famous and rather old fic that explores Sora's parents and it dives into the whimsical and bittersweet world Sora is to be born into. It left me feeling wistful and nostalgic and it's very hard to put into words but it's a fic about parenthood and love. It's a profound little read and I think it captures the unique magic of Kingdom Hearts in a grounded way.

IV[or]y Wall by me.... haaaa im sorry

Multi-Chapter. Incomplete. Gen.

You write what you wanna see. Self-indulgent self promo. Big ol' "Kingdom Heart 4" speculation fic that deals with Sora reverse isekai'd into the real world and having to parse what is real and what is fake and he's... really going through it. Basically a character deconstruction fic on his side. Very meta. Much suspense. I try. It's on Hiatus but you could enjoy the 29 chapters while I get ready to soft relaunch it.

The Legend of Zelda

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild by TheZedofAges

Multi-Chapter. Complete. T . f/m (Zelink)

BotW novelization that is an actual fantasy epic. It takes and develops the world and the plot into this very organic and vibrant cohesive story. Link is characterized so darn well. There are extrapolations and flourishes that suck you right in. There is a masterful use of non-chronological flashbacks and the relationship between Zelda and Link is total gravity. I read this story to my nongamer, not hip, completely clueless mother and she loved it.

Insomnia by tikitikirevenge

Multi-Chapter. Incomplete. T. Hiatus.

Majora's Mask Novelization! This is such a smart fic I'm always in awe as I read it. Not only does it have whipcrack good dialogue and great pacing, it's got a complex closed-time loop premise that has intersections and crosses that take tons of foresight and skill to pull off. It is just an electric read that covers the trauma of a hero out of place and a world that is crushed by oppressive fear and depression. And Tatl. Is. Just. the best.

Detective Conan

Fallout by the Silversage

Multi-Chapter. Incomplete. Hiatus. T.

... this fic. Is everything to me. What I would sell to get this thing finished. Basically, let's take the consequences of the Raven Chaser movie and kick the series into high gear toward the conclusion. Featuring intense intrigue and well-researched mystery and conspiracy. Kaito Kid being an incredible ally. The gosho boys. The Conan mystery being confronted and needled to such a satisfying degree. This fic makes me scream. I am so rabid about this fic. Sense & Sensitivity by KosagiNoLegion

Multi-Chapter. Complete. T

This one is also kinda old. Nature of the beast with Conan fic but like it's Psychic Detective Heiji. Which in the midst of all the 'realism' and 'science' is absolutely glorious. He's surrounded by skeptics and has to keep it secret but like it's a great time. There's another in the series from my memory.

Switched by Boogum

Multi-Chapter. Complete. Gen.

Kaito-Conan Body swap. It's got great dialogue and a fun pace. Just good ol' body swap shenanigans which are heightened by the two at the center who are great foils and have various context's to complicate things. Fun fact, I made the cover art for this one.

Danny Phantom

Yo this seres is what I like to call evergreen for me. For some reason these fics are just always in style. Always ready to be consumed.

Phantom of Truth and Shadow of a Doubt by Haiju

Multi-Chapter. Complete. T

Probably the big staple fic of this fandom. Dark, emotionally complicated. Body horror. Trauma. Danny's mom experiments on him and then we gotta pick up the pieces in the sequel. Love the ghost headcanons. It's captivating.

Candlelight by HappyLeif

Multi-Chapter. Complete. Romance. T

An AU with Danny being alone during his portal accident so he actually drifts away from his friends. This allows for a really sweet love story between Danny and Sam as they reconnect and form a friendship through his alter ego. I love outside-perspective fics and this takes that for a spin and makes a delightful romance.

Treading Water by The Full Catastrophe

Multi-Chapter. Incomplete. T

An AU where instead of ghost powers we've got Mer-Danny. It is so imaginative and fun that feels like the original show with all the great grounded drama we expect from fanfic. This is a total classic and the quintessential mer-Danny fic.

......And I could keep going. There are a few fandoms I've dabbled with reading but I'll save that. It's great to have this here in one place for me to refer back.

#trigun #kingdom hearts #detective conan #loz #the legend of zelda #danny phantom #fanfiction recommendation #fanfiction rec list

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jovenshires · 1 year ago

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can you rec some of your favorite smosh fics? i'd love to read some while prepping for domo!!

OH BOY it is my Time to Shine!! i have so many but i'll try to keep it short and sweet

honestly every fic in the spommy tag is a gift and i cannot hype them up enough BUT to narrow it down, i'll do my fave fics from each of my fave authors: just to talk by ancientvamp, maybe my animals live in your zoo by creepysounds, congrats on being sluts! by miss_soupy, and trust fall by halfwheeze (nsfw warning on this one). these are my BELOVEDS. i hold these fics so close and reread them Constantly. i can talk ab each of them individually if you want but im sure we all knew i was gonna post these ones LNDKNLNF

just to cure it ('cause i can't ignore it if it's love) by visiteroda is a shaymien fic that's SOOOO sweet, it captures damien's pov so well and i LOVE a good 'didn't know they were dating' trope so gotta rec this one

it’s a risk (but babe, i need the thrill) by baflegacy bc i will NEVER stop singing this fics praises!!! i simply will not!!! THE amangela fic. to Me. so in character, so well written, SUCH a fun read!!

flickers by ubemacapuno, which is another shaymien fic and a classic imo. it just so effortlessly captures the transition between friends to lovers. it also captures shayne and damien's voices really well and its so good

timeless by lilacfoxes is SO good and SO fun. y'all know i don't really go around reading ianthony fic but i saw this like out of the blue in the smosh tag Months ago and was so delighted by the concept that i had to read it. angela is so silly and the ianthony dynamic is so wonderful i had to re-share

someday soon by stackofhay - another one i will never shut the fuck up about. it is absolutely no SECRET that this is one of my favorite fics of all time. characterization, writing style, inner voice, dialogue, internal monologue - it is ALL so good. not to mention, a JAMIEN FIC? that's written from JACKIES POV? i have literally NEVER seen another fic from her pov. this fic is revolutionary. a must-read!!!

okay, that's enough from lil ole me. i hope you enjoy!! <3333

#fic #fic rec #shipping #rpf #ask #asks #anon #anonymous

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fictionfixations · 10 months ago

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Yuu and the Power of Magic by writingerror (TWST x HP fic rec)

— At the dawn of her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Yuu finds herself waking up in an unfamiliar world known as the Twisted Wonderland. Enchanted by this strange and wonderful realm of magic and charm, she nevertheless resolves to find a way back to Wizarding Britain. However, besieged by the colourful characters of the magical Night Raven College at every turn, Yuu is about to discover how difficult surviving her first year here will be, let alone making her way home. Especially with the darkest secret of the world right by her side—and her growing attachment to this lair of Villains. —

forgot to make a post about this so HERE rq

its so good, i cant understate how good it is

apparently it was written before an official english translation came out (holy crap)

its very enjoyable

its VERY long (a million words..)

i understand that some ppl dont like crossovers, but this is more that yuu's a witch from the hp world who ended up in twisted wonderland. you do sort of need knowledge from it because you might not understand what things do or what yuu's referring to, but i think you could probably still get by with just twst knowledge

additionally, while it follows the storyline-ish (as in it still goes in the book order established)

think of it like an alternate retelling of events. some things will be similar, some things will be wildly different. (in that aspect id assume that you could probably read it without twst knowledge either. there's also in the notes explanations on stuff, like names, terms, etc etc)

i cannot sing its praises enough!

unsure if its still being continued

the author's last update was something like their file for the next chapter getting corrupted, so they had to rewrite it. been a hot minute since then but also their chapters are ungodly long

EDIT: THE AUTHOR CAME BACKKKK (they're editing some chapters n stuff and have a bunch more to add). so glad i joined the discord server WOO

#twst fic #twisted wonderland #twst #fic rec #fic recommendation #not my fic #ao3 fic #fanfic rec #fanfic recommendation #hp fic #crossover fic

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holytrohmanempire · 2 years ago

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Oh! Oh! I volunteer! What's your all time favorite vampire media and do you have links?

Thank you anon I'm so delighted you took the bait!

It is with deep bemusement and slight dismay that I inform you and the world at large that the best vampire story I have ever read is called "temperance" and reader, "temperance" is an NSYNC fanfiction.

Yeah you read that right this is a fanfiction about the men in the boyband nsync (and the backstreet boys, and elvis' manager? for some reason?????) and it's 64,000 words long with two short sequels and listen. I don't want this to be the best piece of vampire media ever any more than you do. But my god, it is. The vampire rules are well thought out. The world is built richly but without Dune-style infodumps - you just learn to understand what the universe is like so organically as the story progresses. The romance is sweet, the debate regarding the souls of vampires is explored thoughtfully. The prose is beautiful and it's easy to sink your teeth into. It's equal parts beautiful and horrifying, the way vampire media should be, but the beauty is of a southern gothic cottagecore nature and the horror is feral and toothsome, as opposed to the genteel nature of most vampire stories. I genuinely believe you don't have to give a shit about NSYNC to enjoy it, either. Cannot sing its praises enough - link to the first story is here: http://www.nopseud.org/nsa/fic/temperance.html

My second fave piece of vampire media is the Carmilla webseries. Picture it: the year is 2014 and you have come to terms with being a bit of a lesbian and someone takes The sapphic vampire story of all time and turns it into a college au romcom (ft some gorgeous leads, by the way.) Laura only drinks from a tardis mug. Carmilla eats cereal with blood in it. Black cat/golden retriever dynamics. It made my cry. The theme song ("Love Will Have Its Sacrifices") is baller and I've put it on every playlist for THWTH I've ever made. I have, to be fair, only finished season one, but god, I fucking love Carmilla: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uPd3g5wi1A

My third fave piece of vampire media is a little more traditional and it is the book "The Coldest Girl in Coldtown" by Holly Black. Holly Black as in author of grimdark fae novels for teenagers, yes. "The Coldest Girl in Coldtown" is excellent and on my list because it is, in spite of being written for teens, probably the sexiest piece of vampire fiction I have ever read. Gavriel is such a hot lead and we finally get an author unafraid to make the blood drinking sexy as well as gory and alarming. 10/10 would recommend this book to literally anyone, and it has shockingly good trans rep for being released in like 2013: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-coldest-girl-in-coldtown-holly-black/110465?ean=9780316213097

Lastly, I think the Fright Night remake from 2011 is amazing. Like, look. I know it's not "good" as in well-written or anything, but like. It's funny, it's sexy, they play into the ridiculousness. I fully believe Fright Night walked so that Renfield could run. It's star studded for literally no reason. The CGI is terrible. The vampires are ridiculous. The soundtrack to this one is also way better than it had any right to be. It comes in fourth because it is kind of sexist and I think we should have had more characters fully soaked in blood a la Evil Dead Rise, but c'est la vie. Please please please note that I do mean the 2011 remake the one from the 80s was, like, fine, but the 2011 one was camp: https://letterboxd.com/film/fright-night-2011/

#vampire recs #i have more but these are top tier #long post #ask #fright night 2011 #carmilla #the coldest girl in coldtown #i feel like it would be chaotic to tag nsync #nsync

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oldtowrs · 3 months ago

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holy. fucking. shit. the amount of yearning in this fic I think about killed me. like I felt this one in my fucking heartstrings dude.

"is this your long winded way—[...]—of saying you missed me?" he taunts, lips cut into a genuine smile. (Because I did. I missed you so; Never thought it possible that my heart could sing so longingly when I saw light upon your face again.) — You’ve always been so beautiful. He couldn’t think of any other grand prose or way to describe it. You’re the only one who’s ever rendered the Herald speechless. — “Besides," you wave, "I’ve been told he’ll be settling all the ways to Eregion, by the end of the season. I imagine we would hardly ever be feasible. ” And then, in a slip of his tongue, or in new-found confidence (foolishness?), or perhaps because Elrond simply cannot help it anymore— “Why not? I have loved you from further.” — Then he lingers. In one hand his wine, and the other ghosting across your cheek; As if he fears this an illusion, as if he’d touch you and you’d fade into a ripple. “Tell me to walk away,” he says from where he stands a foot from you, voice so quiet it nearly fell into nothing. “And I will.” I will do anything for you. Your answer is barely a whisper, and drowned in affection. “Stay.” (Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.)

absolutely every. fucking. word. was beautiful. the yearning was woven into every word and I could feel it so deep in my chest, that I thought I was having a fucking heart attack. good fucking god. I'm literally on my knees, in tears, hands over my fucking heart in AWE.

Your lips are glaringly stained red. “Do go easy on the First Age wine, Marshal,” he suggests, before finally disappearing around the corner. Elrond fights back from barking out a laugh. “Yes, go easy,” Elrond croons your way, once you sink in relief. “Tell me, was I enough of a taste for you?” “Snide little—” You swat with a laugh, but he catches you easily by the wrist, wearing that tight-lipped, boyish smile, and bends down to nudge you into another kiss once more. You give in, ofcourse. “Fool,” you whisper somewhere inbetween. You can practically feel him smiling against you. “Half-wit.”

this scene? the banter between elrond and the reader was so well written, and I was clinging to every word, which is not often the case in dialogue heavy fics. this was so good. go fucking read it. this author deserves miles upon miles worth of praise so go give it to them.

( credits to the incredible @goodsirs for this beautiful gifset ! )

✵ — OF HALF-WITS & FOOLS !

summ. You & Elrond have been at odds for as long as you both can remember. So when did it all start to change? or: Everyone’s sick & tired of Elrond’s lovesick denial. pairing. elrond peredhel / f!reader w.count. 5.5k (oops) a/n. pre-s1 (implied AU) , time-jumps galore , established elven name , loose neo-Quenya translations , childhood rivals-to-lovers , Elrond is less serious here & more of a little shit , ‘unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object’ trope, but it's literally just stubborn!reader & bratty!Elrond

PERHAPS, ELROND SUPPOSES, it had started when he’d accidentally bucked you off your horse on a race.

That would come to be centuries ago by now, when you were both children; and he can even recall your face still— drenched in lake water, tangled in a bramble he couldn’t quite pull you out of because he’d allowed the most unbecoming laugh to ever grace himself first before bothering to help you.

You’d been humiliated, and you never allowed it again since.

Payback comes tenfold just a season after, however. (Spring had yet to be in full swing— Elrond should have known better than to trust your claim of rare Niphredil blooming early by Lindon’s border.)

“Was it worth it?” he snorts, letting the rain wash the muck from his hair and wincing at the crumple of his scrolls under the hooves of your horse. “Your petty endeavour for retribution?”

“Indeed.”

“...You say this, after having fallen in the same bog you yourself have led me to. Incredible. Your pride rivals that of Man.”

A beat. You huff.

“...I admit, I had imagined this to go far more smoothly on my end—”

Elrond rolls his eyes.

“—But it is satisfying, nonetheless.”

“How childish.”

“You’re one to talk,” you snap, narrowly dodging a dirty pebble thrown your way.

“You ought to apologise!” Elrond hisses.

“Apologise to the likes of you? Never.”

“Fool!”

“Half-wit!”

And so was sown early the seed of a rivalry between you both.

The High Elves watch it bloom through centuries of the Age.

The Valiant-hearted Maiden against the Vault of Stars; Locking horns by every way of competition and prowess— be it academic brain or athletic brawn, or in inanities of conversation, where every answer is met with a petty counter or a provoked jab.

A constant dance of bickering, bantering, barbing.

“Of us two, I’m the better scholar,” Elrond states once upon a time, during a practised-combat, amid one of your shared tiffs.

You side-step and knock him to his feet; catch the stroke of his blade with a hard swipe of your own. It sings— metal against metal— and pierces into the earth a pace away where Elrond crumbled defeated.

The smile you wear is triumphant as the tip of your steel hovers at his throat. “And I, the better swordsman.”

A curl of his hair falls between his eyes, and he blows it with a scoff. “Even if the High King blesses you one day as Marshal of your own Cavalry,” Elrond narrows his gaze up towards you. “I hazard I could fell more damage than you ever could, with a quill and my tongue alone.”

“Bold. Why ever need an army, then?”

“Betimes, a sword must still be drawn.”

“Or not drawn,” you counter.

As if in emphasis, you sheathe your sword and bent to offer him a teasing, albeit, helpful hand. “Hard to tell with ‘just a quill and your tongue’, I imagine. No?”

Quick-witted shrew you are, he thinks to bite. But you are right, after all, and Elrond is clever enough to know when to yield.

“The maiden thinks herself o’ so wise,” Elrond bristles, after you’d steadied him to his feet.

You laugh.

It’s bright and resonant— startles something deep in his heart far, far more than the kind hand you’d offered him. Elrond struggles to shake it off.

“Fool,” he gripes.

“Half-wit,” you volley.

And the familiar exchange follows again, wherever forth you go throughout the Age. Between field and fallow, lake and stream, and Kingdom to Kingdom.

Oaf to dullard. Troll-headed to lame-brained. Runt to mooncalf. Dimwit to—

“Aulë’s beard!” Durin cries aloud, following a stormy aftermath of you and Elrond’s brief visit to Khazad-dûm. “I’ve never seen his patience crumble as swift as soapstone! They despise each other, Disa!”

“On the contrary,” she dissents, amused. “Why would Elrond allow it, that his so-called ‘bane of his existence’ meet you, Durin— one of his greatest friends— if he didn’t trust her at least one bit?”

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean he cares for the girl.”

“Aye, ‘til you remember trust is the naked stone of love.” There’s a twinkle in Disa’s eyes like that of pure quartz. “And I wager that Elf hasn’t the slightest idea of that yet.”

She’s right, of course. Elrond hasn’t.

Not even a decade later.

Or the one after that.

And to the next.

Until, slowly, something begins to gives way.

“Elmendëa,” Elrond hears you swear, exasperated. “Ává tuluvanyë! I know you are a fool, but even an idea as rash as this is beyond you.” *

“That has to be the kindest words I have ever heard you utter in regards to me,” he muses, unable to stop from grinning.

Elrond is intelligent. Cunningly so. He’s gleaned exactly how to push your buttons because he’s the only one well-versed to your short temper, buried somewhere under the sunshine of your adoring face, and the bell-like sound of your laughter he’s grown to—

“Remind me what it is your name stands for, again?”

The grip on your horse’s reins tighten. “Beríniel. Maiden of Valiant heart.”

A terrible move, in hindsight. You should have never entertained his question.

“Hm. I always admired it. A mighty name,” he agrees, shrugging lazily. “For a coward, that is.”

You scowl, fight a scathing remark. Elrond always gets childishly riled up whenever he tests your nerve; you’ve known him long enough to know it would not do to satisfy him with a reaction.

“Five stone-trolls against one lone elf in the blackest of night is not cowardice, it’s folly.”

“These creatures have eluded us too many seasons long, laying waste to these lands. The General said this himself,” he says, spurring his horse with excitement. “Now’s our only chance! Besides, I am far from alone, no? Come now; I have you, and you have me!”

Your heart stutters.

You might’ve had the time to mull that last line of his comment over, including that unexpected bloom of something in your chest, even, had he not bolted off straight into his demise.

“Elrond! Valyë—!” You snarl out a curse. “Wait!” *

You’re drenched.

So is Elrond.

You may have laughed at the sight if you weren’t so busy with being humbly contrite at the wrath of your Cavalry General.

And maybe if you weren’t drenched in literal troll-blood.

“Taking on five of those foul creatures,” comes the disapproving hiss. “At the height of the night!”

“General—”

“You are lucky, thick-headed colt that you are, Belírien, that I have decided only to suspend you of your rank.”

You flinch.

Elrond snaps his bowed head up in surprise.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, General,” he defies, much to your absolute horror, “But if you wish to exorcise your anger, I beg of you to do so against me—”

“No,” you override, furious. Call it competition if you must— but Elrond will not take a punishment from and for you. You had far more honour in you than to let anyone take your blame, even if it comes in the form of your childhood nemesis.

The glare you shoot that reads, Quit attempting to be a damn hero, goes unnoticed, however. (Or perhaps, more likely, now that you remember this is Elrond Peredhel, wilfully ignored.)

“—Belírien defied your order, but she did so only to protect me from my own folly. It was I who went after the trolls, and in doing so forced her hand—”

“I made my decision, you fool,” you protest. “Of all people you should know best that you could never force my hand to do anyth—

“If you would just let me speak, you half—”

“Dínen!” The General snarls. *

Both of you snap to attention.

“Must you two always argue like whelps?” he thunders. “I will speak with Elrond myself. Meno!” *

You practically deflate in your armour. “General, please, lá asanyë a—” *

“Every second you tally standing before me thins my patience, Belírien,” he says, voice strained with finality. “Do not test it.”

You grit your teeth, your breath a sharp exhale.

“Dúro di,” Elrond whispers, before you can say anything rash. He can recognise all too well that tide of stubbornness in you— the same one that always rises ashore towards trouble. Then, gently: “Ilqua nauva mára.” *

You relent, only to surmise much, much later that evening, when the sun bled dusk over Lindon’s citadel, that it had not, in fact, gone ‘okay’.

“Manan nîn rehtanë tye, Elrond?” *

You can imagine the cheeky smile in his face for yourself, from where he’s peering up the gleaming stars, “Must there be rhyme or reason?”

“I’ve been informed that my rank as Marshal still stands,” you say, sidling to his side on the stone allure. “Was that your doing?”

“Yes.”

It’s said so easily. Sometimes you wish you could curse that slippery, literary tongue of Elrond’s.

“Then why is it I hear they’ve withheld yours as Herald?”

“Merely an abeyance,” he dismisses, but you can hear the disappointment in his voice nevertheless, even if his eyes are cast away from you.

It pains you more than you’d expected it would have— Elrond has spent centuries working towards the role, and just when it’s come within reach, he’d chosen to let it slip to defend you instead.

“Save your despair. In time, h—”

“Ánin apsene.” *

Elrond blinks in surprise.

Unbidden, an old memory resurfaces: of mud, and crumpled scrolls, and a pebble thrown your way, after which you’d claimed: I would never apologise to the likes of you!

You’d both been children then. Has so much time passed already? What a gift, he finds he couldn’t stop himself, That you are still by my side.

“There is nothing to forgive. I defended you, because I—” he falters. Something passes in his eyes you cannot decipher. “—I believed it just. On this I am certain.”

“You need not have, regardless,” you retort. “Especially with the price you pay now.”

“I know,” he shrugs. Shrugs. As if you hadn’t just been the potential end-all to his hard work. “But, alas.”

Alas? How stubborn you are, you resist. You silver-tongued, nonchalant, handsome little—

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” he adds, pointedly. “Marshal.”

“I don’t,” you say. “I would never.” There is no way to turn back time nor the decree, afterall, so you settle with, “Just don’t get used to it. Defending me, I mean.”

Or, in plain: Thank you.

The corner of his lips tug closely akin to a smile.

“I would never,” he parrots.

That is to say: You’re welcome.

--- C R A C K !

Deep in another pass of Summer, in the fields of Lindon west where the capital towers stand, an arrowshaft splits perfectly down its middle, from the shot of another.

A bullseye on a bullseye.

You ready; take aim to fire, again—

“I gathered you would be here,” comes Elrond’s voice. “You always found solace in target practice.”

—and miss your mark.

The arrow splinters wood off the edge.

With a scowl, you turn to where Elrond sits by the root of an old tree, fidgeting with something in his hand.

“Endë intyë,” he recites Rúmil. “You draw your bowstring with anger. It needs conviction, to fly true.” *

The familiar sound of a nocked arrow reaches his tipped ears. Elrond lifts his head, meets your steel gaze behind your loaded bow, set dead-straight towards him.

“And would you like to test my conviction, Elrond?”

I would, is his instinctive jab of a response, for I’d wager you’ll miss.

But he can spot the slightest of tremor in your hands; the unseen waver in your voice. You’ve been gravely unsteadied— he recognises the suffocating weight of grief, rolling from you in waves.

“No,” he says, sincerely. “Not today.”

“So you’ve come to patronise me for one erred shot, then. Charming.”

“You know why I’m here,” he says, watching you patiently as you pluck your arrows and tidy the target. “Don’t—”

“Be a fool?” You finish for him, annoyed.

A breeze passes. It’s silent.

There’s no caustic remark, no spiteful words. It’s almost unsettling to not hear half-wit being said in reply. Even then, though, you find way to fault him even for that.

You curse him for his… his inherent patience. For bothering you here and now. For his damn face; that always makes it so hard to stay mad, and so easy to forgive.

“Don’t push me away,” he corrects. “Is what I intended to say.”

A piece of you cracks. For someone who’s claimed to be irked by the very sight of you, Elrond could be frustratingly gentle to you when need be.

“What does it matter to you?”

You reach for your quiver. Focus, you tell yourself. Focus. If you looked in his eyes again you might just shatter.

“The village sent word,” he begins, striding towards you and standing by your side. “They plead for you to come and plant a seed in their land, in Îdhendiel’s name. A token of gratitude to her memory, and to you, the Marshal, who led the cavalry to save their lives.”

Something potent roars in your veins. A flame; A fire— burning white-hot behind your eyes, kindling them with tears; stoking a bloodthirsty anger in your heart.

“What worth is their gratitude? The person they ought to thank is dead,” you say, vicious. “It’s because of their recklessness that they roused the wrath of the beasts sleeping in that forsaken cavern. Îdhendiel’s life was—”

Wasted, you couldn’t bring yourself to say, as you draw and take aim.

But your vision is swimming, blurred by memory and unshed tears, taking the heart of the target along with it.

“They are innocent, you know this.”

Your shot will be poor. Likely, it would embed the stand. Maybe you should shoot Elrond, instead.

(You could never.)

“If you are here to argue with me, Elrond,” you whisper, a pained breath escaping you as you lower your bow. “Please, leave.”

“I am here to convince you.”

“And I will not be convinced,” you grit.

“Do not let your grief blind y—”

“Please!”

Your voice cracks. The arrowshaft in your grip snaps.

Elrond seizes.

“Please, just… Just go.”

You wait for it. For one last reproach from him. But instead, he unravels something with his fingers.

“I will not tell you your anger is misplaced,” he says, gently, stepping forward to place the object in your palm. “For that, I have no right. But I am certain of one thing—”

It’s a seed. An acorn. Cradled in threadbare cloth, weathered and worn.

“—Îdhendiel would have wished only for peace.”

It would grow to be an oak tree that can outlive mortal men by a thousand years. Elrond had been purposeful with where he’d placed the seed: right next to the broken arrowhead in your palm.

A proverbial choice. Grief, he seems to say, or peace?

“I hate you,” you answer, uselessly.

But a Herald's very art is to read between words, and better yet— Elrond has come to learn every lilt and cadence in your voice. It’s hollow. There is no malice meant in what you’ve said.

“This is but one seed, and yet it feels the heaviest thing in all of Middle-Earth.”

He softens at that. “Such is the weight of grief.”

Something knots in your throat. Stricken. You’re stricken. It’s the kind that reminds you of all your other, untreated hurts; of everything you’ve lost and can never forget, and would never be reunited with again until the Undying Lands.

“You—” Your hesitant voice calls out.

(You are the only one I trust. Would you bear this weight with me?)

“Would you accompany me? To the village?”

Your words are small. Almost fearful. As if he could ever possibly be so cold as to forsake you at a time like this.

He reaches out, settles his hand atop yours. It may very well be the kindest, most tender thing you’ve ever felt from him your entire life.

“I would never abandon you,” comes Elrond’s answer.

Then, to himself, candidly: I’d go anywhere with you by my side. He’d thought it. Realised. Swore. It had brought no surprise, no hesitation. My place is with you.

Elrond Peredhel had never been so sure of anything.

And he stays true to his word.

He journeys with you for a sennight North, with the acorn in his hold; had kept you steadfast all the way to the tilled grounds of the village.

And alas when the time had come: If your fingers didn’t shake neath the earth; if you didn’t falter your grip on seed and soil as you planted—

It was because Elrond was there, standing with you.

“I was a fool to think I can escape without Herald Elrond himself having one last word in.”

“That you are,” he huffs, breathless from the full gallop ride he’d taken downwind to the kingdom gates. The Winter season means the Northern air blows colder from the snow-capped mountains of Ered Luin.

It means more time between you two has passed, yet—

“And a half-wit,” he finishes.

—nothing’s changed. Or so it seems.

Astride the saddle of your own steed, you cock your head at him. “Well, what did you come here to say? Let me guess, you’ll enjoy the silence while I’m gone?”

Elrond almost grimaces. If you’d noticed, though, you didn’t appear to show it.

“No.”

“Or perhaps—”

“Why did you not tell me you were leaving?”

(He says, instead of something unforgiveably sentimental, that is: Do I matter to you so little?)

And. Well. If his tone hadn’t startled you, the flash of betrayal in his eyes certainly did.

“I…” You blink. “I assumed you knew.”

“I didn’t,” he says, uncharacteristically sharp.

Your brows furrow. “Well, I’ll be gone a mere blink. At best only six Sun-years, not an entire yén. Galadriel sent me to scout aways to the South before reporting my findings back to Lindon for our archives. I will not apologise for serv—” *

“I seek neither an explanation nor an apology,” he says, curt enough that your company sneaks a wary look from the gates; enough that his own very horse shifts uneasy.

“Then be plain. Why have you come here?”

The fight leaves his body.

“I…” He trails off. Blinks as his gaze darts across your face.

(I think— )

“…To bid you farewell.”

A lie. Blatant. Plain as daylight and as clear as the stars in their courses to your discerning eye, borne from the long years endured beside him. Dúath whinnies below you. He must have sensed the unseen discord, too.

Elrond purses his lips to smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“And to you too, Dúath. Keep h— Yourselves— safe.”

Then, with only a nod and a fleeting glance, as if the effort to watch you depart might cut too deep—

“Elrond—”

—he steers his horse away and spurs into a leaping gallop before your sentence could take shape.

And he doesn’t speak of that day, not a word; not until Galadriel had brought it up herself.

“I have noticed,” Galadriel begins, after the season had finally ended, and the last of the snowflakes had come to fall. “You have never been more distant since the company left. If my sending them away has offended you someh—”

“No. Never,” Elrond says, cut to the quick. His gaze tears from the forests to his best friend. “I am merely… pensive.”

It’s the truth, and yet somehow he’d delivered it embarrassingly unconvincingly. So much so that Galadriel raises her brows him.

“Over?”

He flounders.

“...Lore.”

Galadriel deadpans. “Ah, of course. Lore. Then why have you been—” She’s careful to pick her words. “—Sulking?”

“I am not,” he insists, and manages to swallow back the instinctiveness of saying fool, or half-wit. (These are… words reserved solely for you.)

“It is unlike you to lie, Elrond,” she says, levelling her stare. “Was it not Rúmil who said absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Speak plain, Galadriel.”

“Your Marshal. You miss her,” she states. “You like her.”

“You are delusio—”

Galadriel pins him with a look.

“—Mistaken,” Elrond amends.

She tilts her head. “Your brooding says otherwise.”

“First and foremost, she is not my anything. Secondly, I do not brood,” he says, turning up his nose. “And lastly, I am confident I do not harbour anything but simple courtesy for her. She is insufferable.”

She hums, amused. “I see.”

“Truly!” he insists. (Too hasty, almost, to hide the obvious lie.) “Unbearably prideful, too.”

“And terribly impulsive?”

“As a colt in full gallop.”

“And distracting?” offers Galadriel.

“Endlessly.”

“Because she’s beautiful, yes?”

“Frustratingly so.”

A beat.

Elrond blinks, aghast.

“No, wait—”

Galadriel’s laugh is bright.

Reunion aligns perfectly with Mereth-nuin-Giliath.

The celebratory feast has the verdant halls and forest of Lindon’s Kingdom alive with moonlight and lantern; laughter and song. Elves alike are clad in their best: silver wreaths braided into hair; golden trims embroidered into robe.

And— you.

There’s you.

Donned in the finest cloths and the brightest garlands, seated at a small table spread with some of your closest companions, where Elrond quietly watches you laugh— Singing something of soldiers, poets and kings; how you’d been taught it from a migration of halflings you happened across during your time in the wilds.

But then there is Glórieldir.

Golden-one. Shouldered next to you, with his yellow hair and his glinting smile and his gilded garments. Everything that could possibly live up to his name, even in attitude. A perfect soldier. A perfect friend. A perfect Second-in-command.

Specifically, your Second-in-command.

“Any longer and you might burn a hole through his head,” comes a voice. It’s Gil-Galad, ever the omnipresent gravitas that comes with him. “Do be more merciful. Glórieldir has quite the talent for bowmanship.”

Elrond straightens in an instant. “High King.”

“At ease,” he waves, behind a sip— no, a gulp— of wine. “I am trying to escape from Círdan and his frivolous attempts to pester me so. Do humour me, why the withering glare? Glórieldir is no threat to your rather peculiar bond with Beríniel. Despair not.”

It’s said with such casual precision Elrond nearly buckles. He couldn’t have possibly been measured that swiftly?

“I do not— despair.”

A snort.

“Do you know why Glórieldir is only Second-in-command?” Gil-Galad says. “Because he bends too easily to higher authority. Much unlike your Marshal, who would not hesitate to question anyone and anything even under duress. I hazard maybe even toward myself.”

“She is not my— anything,” he blusters, recalling his conversation with Galadriel those winters ago.

“Ach. She is the only elf in Middle-earth who could shake the very foundation of your being free from conviction,” he says, nonchalant, “Do you think me blind to your longing gaze and clandestine trysts—”

Elrond chokes. “Trysts?!”

(Had he not been burdened with the crown and its status, Gil-Galad may have allowed his Kingly demeanour to crack for a moment, just to laugh at Elrond’s scandalised look.)

“There have never been trysts. We are furthest from lovers. She is my— friend, at best. You are mistaken.”

“Of course,” Gil-Galad hums, wholly unimpressed, after which he sets his goblet down a passing tray and grabs two fresh cups, and hands them both to him, much to his confusion. “I whole-heartedly believe you.”

Then, to Elrond’s horror: the High King beckons Glórieldir from the table, and Elrond pieces together the cunning scheme too late as Gil-Galad sweeps the Second-in-command away for an oh-so-interesting discussion over archery.

That sly fox of a—

“Thank you,” you say, once the both of you are alone, out of sight and earshot from the festivities, and Elrond had handed you one of the cups of red wine.

You should thank Gil-Galad, he thinks. And his horribly wicked sense of humour.

“Seems you enjoyed your adventures to the South,” he says instead.

“I did. It gave me plenty of time to… think.” Of you. Of us.

“Must have been peaceable without me around,” Elrond muses.

You set your cup to the stone wall of the parapet overlooking the rivers. “Quite the contrary,” you say, and Elrond has to try to convince himself he’s only imagining that tone of wistfulness in your voice out of self-indulgence. Surely.

“The seasons ran surprisingly long. Summers less kind, less sweet. Oftentimes, it was too quiet. And I’d seek for your voice in conversation.” You pick idly at the filigree of the goblet. “…But no one in my company tests my nerve like you do.”

A sense of pride curls around his heart. “Is this your long-winded way—”

“Oh, here we go again.”

“—of saying you missed me?” he taunts, lips cut into a genuine smile. (Because I did. I missed you so; Never thought it possible that my heart could sing so longingly when I saw light upon your face again.)

You roll your eyes, but your laugh betrays you. It’s musical, dizzying. Has him stirring into another smile as he watches you muffle it into your palm, and the moonlight catches the jewels of your crescent eyes; the shining tresses of your hair he’s been fighting the urge to tuck behind your ear.

You’ve always been so beautiful. He couldn’t think of any other grand prose or way to describe it. You’re the only one who’s ever rendered the Herald speechless.

Elrond hadn’t known what to do with himself, really, when he first faced this revelation unravelling before him. He’d spent his days reflecting when exactly the tides had changed; at what hour he came to love, instead despise, the prick of every thorn and thistle that came with the flower that you are.

He’d thought perhaps something else was sown the day Îdhendiel’s seed was planted in the earth. Something between you two that was more gentler. Kinder. Fonder.

Or perhaps, Elrond supposes, it has always been there.

Yes, had come the realisation. Foolish of him, indeed. To have been remiss. To have been blind. To have tarried so long.

“You’re right, I missed you,” you finally relent, sighing theatrically. “I owe you that much, after… after the way I left things before. I suppose it’s high time I ask for your forgiveness.”

It’s said so sheepishly, he has to bend to chase your timid gaze.

“Elmendëa. The journey truly has changed you… I hazard this is the second time I’ve ever heard you apologise in my life, Berílien, you should be quite proud—”

“The audacity!” you bat at him, bursting into a laugh. “Thick of you to keep tally. You and Glórieldir are irritatingly alike.”

Elrond’s mouth clicks shut. He tries to hide the hard press of his tongue against his cheek; the sudden bout of sour and ire. “Ah. Right. Your knight in golden, shining armour. Tell me, has he plucked the courage to court you yet?”

You’re almost winded. “What?”

He shrugs. “Word goes he’s head over heels for you.”

“Word is word. We— I— We’re not, no. He is more my charge, if anything,” you wrinkle your nose, disapproving.

He tries to tamp down the relief secretly bleeding through him. “Oh? Why, you’ll break his golden heart.”

(This time, it’s you trying to convince yourself that you’re imagining that note of jealousy in his voice out of self-indulgence.)

“Besides," you wave, "I’ve been told he’ll be settling all the ways to Eregion, by the end of the season. I imagine we would hardly ever be feasible. ”

And then, in a slip of his tongue, or in new-found confidence (foolishness?), or perhaps because Elrond simply cannot help it anymore—

“Why not? I have loved you from further.”

A beat.

The world stills.

Your heart stutters.

Even the stars seem to hold their breath to bear witness.

Manwë help me, he freezes. This is not how I meant for this to go.

Your eyes flicker to his lips. He catches it in a glimmer of hope. Was that confession? he wonders. Admission? Concession?

“Your wine is… speaking, Elrond.”

“I have had but a quarter of a cup.”

“It is First Age wine.”

“I digress. It would take more than that to master the tongue of an elf. Especially mine.”

“You're half-elve—”

“Must we dance this age-old dance?” he blurts, half-desperate, half-terrified. Elrond isn’t like Galadriel, who could probably make flowers grow by sheer dint of belief. He doesn’t have it in him to pretend. Not anymore. “Just. Tell me I am wrong. That I’m mistaken. Tell me if— Tell me I have overstepped.”

Eärendil’s star is blinding in the momentary silence.

The wind blows bated with white-winged birds. It breathes a strand to your cheek, compelling, almost. Reach for her.

He does. Slowly. Elrond gathers, finally, the conviction, to reach for that stray tress of hair, to tuck it behind the high-tip of your ear.

Then he lingers. In one hand his wine, and the other ghosting across your cheek; As if he fears this an illusion, as if he’d touch you and you’d fade into a ripple.

“Tell me to walk away,” he says from where he stands a foot from you, voice so quiet it nearly fell into nothing. “And I will.”

I will do anything for you.

Your answer is barely a whisper, and drowned in affection. “Stay.”

(Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.)

“And is your wine speaking?” he dares.

You shake your head honestly.

Concession. “I’ve not had even a taste, yet, this whole night.”

A taste? “I see.”

And then, as swift and smooth as a breeze, Elrond moves to finish the last swallow of his wine, and let slip the goblet to clatter onto the floor, so he could hold you wholly in both hands—

And ducks his head to kiss you.

It’s like the world sighs in song.

You’re melting as he kisses you, urgent— a talisman of a kiss; fierce and unhesitating and like a wick lit aflame. It’s sweet, cloyingly so, laden either from the red wine or the weight of all the unsaids between you two, or maybe both.

“Melin tye,” he pants, when he pulls for a chaste breath. "I've always—" *

But then you’re leaning up to him again, running your hand up his nape and into the locks of his curly hair, and tugging him back down to meet him halfway. Words can come later. There’ll be time. You’ll weave it into existence, if you must.

Right now you’re content with this. With seeing his eyes slide shut and feeling the press of his palms and thumbs on your cheeks; with letting him fold you tight into his arms, and kissing you so desperately it feels as if he’s cleaving his very soul apart so he could tuck you into it forever.

You exhale his name. A thin, reedy sound, when he sidles you to a plinth. “I thought me the ‘bane of your existence’?”

He bumps nose and forehead to yours, eyes half-mast and pupils blown in naked admiration. “You misquote me, surely.”

“Oh?” you murmur, low and close.

He doesn’t bother with an answer. Just dips to kiss you, slower this time, relaxed— Like a tender apology for the wasted centuries, like he wanted to carve into memory the seam of your lips and the slope of it; trace every crack, crevice and curve of your face; memorise the warmth of your skin and the shuddering feel of you in his searing touch.

It’s slow and steady and careful and painfully endearing. You have half the mind to just stay like this with him forever, eclipsed by Elrond's lips, hands and shadow; and translate everything you’ve ever held back from saying into this one fervid kiss alone—

“High King?” comes an approaching call.

Both of you fly back from each other in alarm, just as a figure turns the corner.

(The sound produced from the both of you pulling apart that ardent, sealing kiss is damning.)

“Círdan!” Elrond greets just in time, voice a strangled, breathless rasp.

He clears his throat to try again. “Ah, I’m— afraid the High King is not here.”

You pray to the Valar Círdan doesn’t notice the harried way both of your chests rise and fall, or the way the circlet on your head has gone distinctly off-kilter, or the windswept tousle of Elrond’s curls.

He does, however, notice the empty goblet that’d been rolled to a stop, right at his foot. “…Are you two alright?”

“Very,” Elrond drags, and shoots you a there-and-away glance that leaves your cheeks hot. “We were just—”

Círdan toes the cup. “Having another petty row, I assume?”

“Yes,” you agree hastily. “Arguing.”

“As always,” the shipwright assents. “Right, well, don’t let me interrupt.”

Then, Círdan turns to face you and narrows his eyes curiously. Your lips are glaringly stained red.

“Do go easy on the First Age wine, Marshal,” he suggests, before finally disappearing around the corner.

Elrond fights back from barking out a laugh.

“Yes, go easy,” Elrond croons your way, once you sink in relief. “Tell me, was I enough of a taste for you?”

“Snide little—” You swat with a laugh, but he catches you easily by the wrist, wearing that tight-lipped, boyish smile, and bends down to nudge you into another kiss once more.

You give in, ofcourse.

“Fool,” you whisper somewhere inbetween.

You can practically feel him smiling against you.

“Half-wit.”

Footnotes:

Under the suspended belief that the spoken English is translated from Sindarin, any Elvish dialogue in the story is Quenya unless stated otherwise.

*Rough translations as followed:

Elmendëa = Wonder/Amazement. Ává tuluvanyë! = I will not follow you! Valyë—! = Don’t—! Dínen! = Silence! [a/n. Sindarin] Meno! = Go! Lá asanyë a— = I do not wish for— Dúro di = Obey him. [a/n. I believe this is Sindarin] Ilqua nauva mára = It’ll be okay. (Lit: All will be well.) Manan nîn rehtanë tye = why did you defend me? Ánin apsene = I’m sorry/Forgive me. Endë intyë = Center your heart. (Lit: Center yourself.) Melin tye = I love you. Yén: an Elven unit of time, amounting 144 solar years.

Sindarin names:

Beren — Valiant/Bold Ind — Will/Heart Wen — maiden (alternatively: -iel/-il/-el) Therefore, Beríniel > Valiant-hearted Maiden Îdh — Peace -(n)dil — Friend/Lover Therefore, Îdhendiel > Lover of Peace. Glóriel — Golden -dir — name suffix Therefore, Glórieldir > Golden one Dû — night Gwath — shadow Therefore, Dûath > Night shadow Mereth Nuin Giliath > Feast Under Stars. (As lifted from the Mirkwood Elves in The Hobbit movies)

#literally shitting bricks over here guys it was so good #elrond x reader #elrond peredhel x reader #elrond peredhel #elrond fanfic #the rings of power #trop #sin's fic recs #fic recs #elrond fic recs

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letstrywritingmaybe · 8 months ago

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If you can read Chinese, drop everything you’re doing now and binge chimo777’s fics on ao3 cause that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. I love them!!! I really love when I read fics by authors who share my headcanons!!! I haven’t gone through all of them but I’ve read the Mr. Mystery ones and the rated one and i would definitely rec those. Will update later when I’m done reading the others but I love them! Please leave love letters too! I can read Chinese but I tend to comment in English cause I can barely make sense of my words when I’m gushing

Update: I’ve read all of them and they are all rec worthy!!! I love them! I love that I got so many new fics to read!!! The CoAi fandom is alive and well I swear! At this rate I can go back to fangirling full time, I love this for me. Cause writing sucks, it’s why I’m extra grateful for authors. You guys are truly doing the most and I cannot sing enough praise <3

#cynful babbles #woke up with the intention to write but I had to do a bunch of errands #came back to see that these fics were posted and I am obsessed!

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boimgfrog · 4 years ago

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THE LONG AWAITED MATCHABLOSSOM LONG FIC REC LIST:

Kaoru pining momence:

Long-Lasting Husband Material

15k words

Summary: A fact about Kojiro Nanjo and his soft, big heart; he was in love with his best friend. And he was an adult, so admitting that was so much more embarrassing than it should be.

It didn’t help that he had been feeling this way for fifteen whole years.

Kaoru had to double-check his brain. Yup, he definitely put the words ‘Kojiro’ and ‘Husband’ together in a sentence. His brain put the words together and they fit. The words fit better than any puzzle Kaoru had ever solved. What.

Or, the one where Joe is the perfect husband material and Cherry only realizes that after getting smacked in the head with a longboard.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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Cherry realizes he's been pining for years and then can't stop realizing it. When I tell you this fic made me so fucking happy- I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort but this fic is just comfort. The ending will make you feel so held.

the brightest shade of sun

Summary: Kojiro's looking at him in that funny way again, exasperated but fond. "Nah," he says, easily. "I just saw you."

12k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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summary's vague as hell but!! Kojiro and Kaoru move in together, and Kaoru realizes. hm. maybe he's a bit dependent on his friend. and hm. maybe he's also a little bit in love too. Honestly, the little moments and details between them really make this fic 10/10. just. gosh it's so good.

Kojiro pining momence:

The inevitability of falling in love

Summary: There are things that are inevitable in life, for Nanjo Kojiro it's that he will fall in love with Kaoru.

Or,

Kojiro falls in love with Kaoru and then just keeps falling in love

14k words

Rating: Mature

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Joe falling in love with Cherry and then just. pines for years. fuck I love him. there are so many good scenes in this one, a couple that made me genuinely tear up, 10/10

falling for you

Summary: You know what they say: the best way to figure out that you’re in love with your best friend is to watch them fall in love with someone else.

(Alternatively: Kaoru’s got a crush, Kojiro’s got a crush, and it all goes wrong before it goes right.)

11k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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teen Kojiro my beloved,, gosh this one is just really sweet.

An Ordinary Pain

Summary: Kojiro and Kaoru have had a lot of injuries and hurts over the years, but they always manage to take care of each other.

(or, h/c throughout the ages)

18k words

Rating: Explicit

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The true beauty of this fic lies in the subtleties in their interactions, the way the author described everything was just,, just so perfect.

Fics where Kojiro helps Kaoru move on/heal after Adam (tw for abusive relationships in all of them):

Hey Street Boy, Want Some Style?

- or-

Summary: Kaoru learned to skate to get away from the police.

Kojiro learned to skate to make sure Kaoru actually did.

from high school to present day, Kojiro and Kaoru grow up, mess up, and eventually figure their shit out

38k words

Rating: Explicit

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DEAR GOD. This one is just so beautifully written??? like holy fucking shit. I read it in an afternoon and spent the rest of the night thinking about it.

Divinity

Summary: “I don’t need anyone,” Kaoru whispers. He’s always been good at making bad decisions when it comes to Kojiro; this is another in a long line of failures and he’s not willing to admit yet that maybe Adam fucked him up past the point of no return. “It’s fine,” he mumbles when he hears Kojiro shifting. He’s too afraid to watch him walk away. “You can just go.”

And instead of leaving, Kojiro shuffles forward and hugs him. Kaoru is surrounded by impossibly gentle arms and the scent of pine, and though he’s used to the latter, he hasn’t been touched like this in a long, long time. “I’m not going to go,” Kojiro says softly. His face is buried in Kaoru’s shoulder, lips warm where they brush across his skin. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not, Kaoru. I don’t want to.”

11k words

Rating: Explicit

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this is another really good one, more smut focused than the first one, but like,, in a therapy way?? idk how to explain it but. fuck. yes.

C.E.E

Summary: After spending years in an abusive relationship, Cherry takes it upon himself to engage in what he describes as "corrective emotional experiences". When his safety is threatened during a hook up, he finds himself accepting Joe's offer of:

"Use me. Whatever you need to do, do it with me."

Can Cherry navigate the complicated dark feelings that have lingered for years while juggling (denied) feelings for Joe?

25k words

Rating: Explicit

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When I tell you I am obsessed. phew, okay, just the way the author writes Cherry?? The way the author writes Joe???? I swear nobody understands these characters better. like. fucking hell I simply cannot sing this fic's praises enough.

The 900

Summary: “You haven’t skated since your beef with Adam, have you?” Kojirou says, and Kaoru feels that brick fly right through his glass house.

10k words

Rating: Explicit

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This one is just *chefs kiss*. The dialogue is what really made it stand out to me, it's so in-character and realistic and I want to kiss the author on the mouth for it.

Misc:

Cookin’ like a chef (i’m a five star Michelin)

Summary: Kaoru was going to punch Kojiro if he didn’t stop laughing.

“I know what a bento is,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I would like to know WHY there is a bento on my desk.”

A secret admirer starts to leave bento boxes on Kaoru’s desk in his senior year. He says he hates it, but after a while, it grows to be something he looks forward to every morning.

17k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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Kaoru's POV in this is just. I mean it's everything to me, quite literally. The ending really got me, honestly, this whole fic is just lovely.

i've got these habits that i cannot break

Summary: miya puts on his most pitiful face and tucks himself into joe’s side. “my dads are getting divorced,” he says, trying to sound like the very subject of conversation puts him close to tears. he feels joe’s chest constrict, like he’s trying to hold in a reaction, and miya digs one of his nails into his friend's side. if joe laughs now, not only will miya commit homicide, but the victim will be one specific head chef.joe’s chest relaxes and he says, in the same sad tone as miya, “he was cheating on me with the head chef at his restaurant."

14k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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This one had me dying- Miya playing matchmaker by forcing Joe and Cherry to be his fake dads. yes I know, I know, they'd be awful dads. I don't care, this fic is my favorite fucking thing.

#jay says a thing #matcha blossom #matchablossom #sk8 #joecherry #joe x cherry #these all slap tho like they all fuck so hard

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janzoo · 2 years ago

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I will always have “tornadogenesis” on hand as a recommendation! (Here’s the author’s link to it via tumblr if you’d like to reblog it directly from them.)

This fic explores Haurchefant and Francel’s friendship throughout their lives, especially through the lens of Francel loving someone whom the rest of society sees as lesser.

The characters are spot on. The prose itself sings. I cry a little every time I read it. It is my headcanon for Francel’s life and every character involved.

I also recommend it to those who like the Haillenarte family, especially Stephanivien. He plays his part as older brother beautifully.

I just cannot praise this fic enough. So go on ahead and read it, I hope you like it too.

in search of angsty ffxiv fics, please send recs (your own stuff counts as a rec btw)

also if you have any angsty prompts pls send it in an ask so i can be motivated to write lol

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tickle-bugs · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Do you have any advice for those who want to start writing?

Yes! So honored you asked. I'll put it below the cut. Other writers, feel free to chime in!

(Gearing this specifically towards tickle fics because, well, *gestures around*)

- Mentioned it a whole bunch in my other advice post but it really is a big deal: Write for yourself. I cannot stress it enough. Whatever you like to write, make sure you're having fun and you're writing what you like.

- Find your style! There is no krabby patty formula for The Ideal Style. Everyone has different preferences. Your preferences matter most! If you like all caps laughter dialogue? Great! No laughter dialogue at all? Cool! Reader fics? Nice! First person fics? Sick (pos)! Most people emulate the things that they like to read in their writing and I think that's a great place to start! I like 3rd person POV with an internal monologue and that's what I stick to, pretty much.

- Follow your inspirations. Okay so this one, yes, but be careful. If you like someone's writing or style, there's nothing wrong with emulating it/borrowing bits. That's how I learned to draw, actually (and how most artists learn their craft). If you like a certain author and they do something you like, try it out for yourself! I personally am not a fan of laughter dialogue, so I looked to the amazing writers around me to see how they describe laughs/sensation. It's a great way to learn, because your voice and style will filter through. What this doesn't mean, though, is plagiarizing. Not to sound like a school teacher but if it ain't yours, don't use it.

- Your style will change. Embrace it. I have improved so much since my first fics, and I did that by embracing change. Changing things up is good, actually, and it helps keep things fresh for you! Take a risk, switch something up, etc. It'll help avoid feeling like your fics are stale.

- Writing is practice. The only way you can possibly learn is by doing it. Whether or not you have a blog, just get writing! Try things out! Pick a pairing/group/character and experiment. That's how I started my blog in the first place. I posted a few FinnPoe experiments that I had and decided that I liked it here. Practice, practice, practice, my loves. Don't crunch or make yourself miserable.

- (re: write for yourself, writing is practice) if you find yourself writing fics for the sake of writing/attention, not because you enjoy it, then step back. I had...trauma relating to creating any sort of fandom content because of this. Not everything is gonna be sunshine and roses (talked about in the next point), but if you feel miserable, it's okay to take a break. I don't want to lean too heavily on this, but if you'd like to read more on it, this post about covers it.

- You don't have to like everything you make, okay? You really don't. Don't let anyone tell you that you do. Not every fic is gonna be the Mona Lisa, either. I have many a fic that I've made that I loathe--some posted, some not. Sometimes you run out of steam, sometimes the idea doesn't blossom how you want, sometimes you just fall out of love with a fic. That's okay and normal. Just try to learn from the creative experience for your next go around.

- Taking prompts is hard. Don't hurt yourself. This...is one I need to get better at. If you're looking to run a blog and take prompts (which you don't have to do, btw), that's so cool and funky fresh of you, but do so with your health in mind. Please. If you get a prompt for something you don't like/are uncomfortable with, you don't have to write it. If you are creating content, you have no obligation to create anything that makes you uncomfortable.

If you wanna take prompts, take a number you can handle and the ones that inspire you most. If you have to decline a prompt, that's totally fine. Start and don't finish? That's okay too. People may be disappointed, but you matter more than that disappointment. I can talk more about taking prompts in another post if anyone's interested but I'll leave it at that for now.

- (Re: writing is practice) Get going! Easier said than done, I know, but really do get going. No amount of theorizing is gonna get a fic done, just do it. Try it out. You and your writing are worthy and ever-growing. The writers you idolize are likely agonizing over a WIP or five (hey writers go write a sentence on one of your WIPs rn). Take the leap and try.

- It's okay to work on a fic little by little. I have literally 30+ fics cooking at the moment. Every once in a while I add a paragraph or two. Sometimes I get inspired and write a fic or two in one go. I've had WIPs I've been sitting on since my blog's inception (*casts a sidelong glance at the Home Again series*) and that's perfectly okay. You'll see some people churning out fics every week. If that's you, great! If that's not you, that's okay. Be gentle with yourself.

- (Re: writing is practice, get going) Headcanons and drabbles do wonders for inspiration. I do this all the time. Tell us your thoughts on a character, write something short, etc. It's a great way to dip your toes in the water. Ask for headcanon requests if you want! I have a headcanon tag and I treat it like my spice rack when I write. Not only will writing little bite-sized bits help your brain get going, you'll be able to lean on these bits for later works. Do one of those little "send me a character" ask memes! Reblog a sentence starter list and ask for submissions! Or just do them on your own! Get going.

- Submit fics if you want! My submission box is open (I only take SFW submissions at the moment) and other writers likely take them too. Send an ask/message and ask the person (me included) if it's okay to submit something, and they'll host that fic on their blog! This is ideal for anon writers who don't want to/can't run a blog. I always sing the praises of having a blog because there's nothing better than having a space that's yours, but if you're nervous, that's an excellent place to start. Make sure you follow any submission rules that person may have (and sign your work)! AO3 is an excellent avenue as well.

- EDIT: Writing is like riding a bike. It may take some time for you to get used to it/get into a groove you’re happy with. That’s okay. Take your time and soon enough you’ll be on your way. If you fall, just make sure you get back up.

If you're looking for a sign to start, this is it. I believe in you. If anyone has any more questions, feel free to ask. Anon, I hope this helps <3

Other writers feel free to add your own advice!

#advice tag #bug answers #anon #thank you for asking <3 #if anyone has questions/comments my askbox is open and so are my dms #if you'd like to talk in specifics ('how was your experience writing x fic?' 'how did you do y?') im always happy to do so as well #if you want clarification/me to expand on one of the points above lmk! i have plenty more to say #sorry if i sound aggressive/tense/hostile at any point. ive made my fair share of mistakes and i dont want anyone to follow in my footsteps #hope this helps!!!!#writers feel free to add to this <3

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dramioneasks · 4 years ago

Note

(1) Hi! I checked the fic index and tried to see if anyone else has already recommended this (if so, I'm sorry). Also, submissions seem to not be working for me, so I am sending this as an ask (sorry again). It is "The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy" by speechwriter (batmansymbol on Tumblr). It is literally the BEST FIC I have ever read and I cannot understate that. It is a Deathly Hallows rewrite following what would happen if Draco accepted Dumbledore's offer of protection.

(2) When you ask yourself how could canon Draco be realistically redeemed, this fic is the answer. The writing is stunning, characterisation and world-building just blew me away. I cannot sing its praises enough. The writer is also a published author. Some details to help you tag this are: Draco redemption, Horcrux hunting, enemies to friends to lovers, forgiveness, Draco POV, Hermione POV, camping, Draco learning about the muggle world, insecurity [Hermione], wedding [Bill/Fleur], daily prophetThanks!

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by speechwriter - M, WIP - The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix.

(Also we closed the submission box here)

#fic recommendation #horcrux hunting #hate turns to love #au #draco's redemption #harry #ron #war #draco: turncoat #forgiveness #muggle life #true to character

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schittscreekficrecs · 4 years ago

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I’d Swing with You for the Fences by nontoxic

Rated: E

Relationship(s): Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose

Additional Tags: Ivan (Schitt's Creek), Johnny Rose, Moira Rose, Emir Kaplan, Mutt Schitt, Jake (Schitt's Creek), Twyla Sands, Ray Butani, Marcy Brewer, Clint Brewer, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Baseball, lots of self-indulgence here folks, What's the opposite of a slow burn, Long-Distance Relationship, egregious use of text messages, egregious use of social media, egregious use of pop music

Summary: Patrick Brewer of all people sliding into his DM's is intriguing.

Because just two days ago, David stumbled across Patrick Brewer's Raya profile.

He remembers a single black-and-white photo of a clean-cut looking guy, wearing a baseball cap and laughing, his face turned away from the camera so it's seen mostly in profile. He had a great smile. David was struck by the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, by how genuine he looked.

PATRICK, 30 @patrickbrewer Lives In: Toronto, ON From: Toronto, ON Work: MLB Baseball

David swiped right without reading further.

PROFILE NOT FOUND.

Okay...

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Patrick Brewer, the MVP of last year's World Series and a viral social media star, has a bit of a crush on David Rose, a gallerist living in New York City and occasional guest star on his sister's reality show. He convinces himself to do something about it - after all, he's only in town to play the Yankees for a few nights.

(a self-indulgent baseball/celebrity au)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Recommendation by: Anonymous

I'm assuming I'm not going to be the only one to rec this fic because boy, this was a game-changer. Easily in my top three fics of all time. This one has everything you could want in a fic (in addition to amazing storytelling and beautiful writing) - celebrity baseball, Rose sibling shenanigans, light angst resolved in the most rewarding way, the best Patrick Brewer moment - I could go on but don't want to spoil anything for those who've been living in the dark and haven't yet read this. Plus, the author also creatively codes in a bunch of fun text messages, Twitter posts, etc. and an AMAZING epilogue format that ties everything in together so well. I cannot sing enough praises about this fic.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Submit a rec!

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sanoiro · 4 years ago

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Lucifer Meta Post - Tether Me

I have seen and read many meta flying around regarding this song but none seemed to satisfy me. On the contrary this is a song that downright confused me since I watched the episode, therefore the circulating explanations or meta given were not enough for me. I’ll not say they are without merit, they are just not clicking the right way with my mindset of all things Lucifer.

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Since August I’ve wondered why they didn’t reverse the songs between 5x05 and 5x06 meaning why they didn’t use ‘This Year’s Love’ for the ending of 5x06? It would have made sense I thought albeit it would also be cheesy. On the other hand, the commitment that was expressed and the step taken in 5x05 while Chloe comes to her realisation that they chose each other makes that song quite perfect. Especially as it echoes the 3x23 scene and kiss.

In 5x05 Chloe manages to take down the killer on her own - albeit with Amenadiel’s help - in the same way she uncovered the killer in 3x23 with Charlotte’s aid. Both episodes then end with the party who comes to a groundbreaking realisation to seek the other. In 3x23 Lucifer comes to Chloe while in 5x05 Chloe goes to the Penthouse to find Lucifer.

“If you do not need me you are working with me all this time because you want to. Because you choose to. You did choose me.” - Lucifer 3x23

Then Lucifer goes on, that he was procrastinating to face the present as he was afraid of his feelings, that Chloe wanted him because she had seen only certain sides of him and if she knew all of him she would run. Yes, Chloe did ran but from Season 4 we see that the same issue happens with Chloe and it also manifests spectacularly in 5x03 and in 5x05.

Is she a mere human that one day Lucifer will realise she is not worth it? The fact she is a miracle is that the only thing of value she has? Is the rest of her that insignificant that her existence and her relationship with Lucifer is based on the grounds she was designed for him, meaning that there will be another toy or distraction in the near or far future for him? Toys after all are meant to be played, used to promote growth and knowledge and sooner than later are disposed in storage or a bin. Learning experiences are not meant to be revisited when sucessful and as a parent Chloe knows that.

All the above are relevant believe me.

And now back in 5x05.

“His theory is that you choose to be vulnerable around me.[...] If you choose to be vulnerable around me then I chose to be vulnerable around you.” - Chloe 5x05

Now this is what leads us to the use of “Tether Me” as the chosen song in the sex scene of 5x06.

As a form of habit I always go back to AGN a fic, not really worth your time, but since day one I knew how it would end. Lucifer in the comics #75 (last one) - of the first and original series - says that “Perhaps this is the ultimate freedom, eh Dream Lord? The freedom to leave.”

In a twist of words and due to life experiences I thought to turn the tables a bit there and say that the ultimate freedom sometimes is the freedom to stay.

Lucifer as a series has explored free will and freedom a lot and we were always so fixated with the concept that freedom is a synonym of breaking free, of getting away, running. But since S2 when Lucifer in 2x14 came back to Chloe despite knowing she was a miracle and directly connected to him, in his opinion, we see that freedom in the end was not of him being liberated by this manipulation but setting his own terms into the situation by deciding to stay.

The same thing happened with Chloe in S4. She stayed in Lucifer’s life despite his relationship with Eve and his internal and external Devilness and as we saw guilt manifestation. So now we can take the concept of “Tether Me” on a whole new level. Shall we?

First of all. Tether Me.

The definition here is to practically bind someone. But they are bound out of will and so the freedom they seek is through the commitment they make on their own terms, time and ways to express it.

The physical connection as has been said before surely, is not just about sex. Many opt to forget or disregard the fact that Lucifer stayed celibate for thousands of years in Hell and then when he came on Earth he never sought a companion as he had done every time he visited Earth for millennia. Not even when he believed his time on Earth was limited and his relationship with Chloe impossible to progress.

The fact the above is always brushed aside bothers me as it shows not just Lucifer’s emotional state but also his maturity and commitment on an ‘idea’ and a person. For the first time his coping mechanism for an emotional attachment through carnal gratification is rejected because the alternative is more fulfilling even though the consummation on any level up to 5x05, is deemed improbable.

Lucifer emotionally and spiritually, as we may say, like Chloe since the end of Season 4 have, on a basic level, bound themselves to the person they love. They willingly surrendered not the option of being with someone else but their whole entity to the one they loved.

But many poets have praised love stories that were never consummated or were led to tragic endings like Romeo and Juliet as they brought forward a commitment that lacked the difficulties and grind of what may come next. It is why such love stories, see the Titanic one, are viewed as pure and everlasting. That was Deckerstar before 5x06.

In 5x06 the bounding each character experienced as an individual on the mode of surviving external pressures and grief, now turns to a new entity of two joined parts.

As Lucifer and Chloe decide to take the leap we listen to the singer singing “Tether Me”.

On a very simple way we can say that at that moment both characters stake their claim and on a cognitive BDMS level they allow the other to vine them. Do not mistake it as surrendering. They both equally maintain their identity but they commit to something that started since Season 1.

In Season 1, Lucifer asked if Chloe trusted him and she said yes. Now in 5x06 we see that trust blooming.

As characters, Chloe and Lucifer could never commit. Chloe in Season 1 lamented over the fact that Dan was not committed to his family as he was too preoccupied with his job but throughout the seasons we see that her commitment had to do with loosing her ground and allowing to be patronised in many ways. She believed that allowing her partners to take control over some aspects of her life, like with Dan in 3x11 where he was an authoritative/mentoring figure and then Marcus in the same way she was committing to that relationship. It is also interesting how she stopped doing that once Lucifer entered her life.

Lucifer told her to trust her gut, he didn’t question her authority although he did go his way when he wanted to. When Chloe was backsteping for him he didn’t walk over that space albeit for several reasons. Her silly attitude in 2x12 was met with mistrust while in 4x08 he was truthful on how he was tired of being placed in a pedestal or be expected to act a certain way.

So from Chloe’s side, her relationship with Lucifer in 5x05 finally reaches the point where as a person she does not back down to accommodate him and that is cherished because there is a difference between settling things as couple and letting others degrade you for a relationship to work. It is also why Deckerstar in a way it’s a healthy relationship despite all its ups and downs.

Lucifer on the other hand as we have seen since Season 1 he has been very assertive to his sexual relationships but in the kisses of 2x11 and 3x23 he let Chloe set the pace. The only time he initiated a kiss due to the circumstances it was in 4x10. Now in 5x05 we see both of them start their decision to progress their relationship to a sexual one.

For a being that constantly fled any form of commitment and abhorred notions of surrendering power and control it is interesting to see his choices in 5x06. First of all if we go back to his sexual history we shall see for example how his lovers in 2x14, were all describing a person who took control in the bedroom as he knew their desires and became a tool to fulfill them. You cannot have an emotional connection to a tool as you may very well know hence why none of Lucifer’s lovers ever looked back or would ever be willing to kill for him. Additionally in 3x13, it’s interesting of how Lucifer exhibits himself as a giver to the Korean mob boss. A tragic self-awareness if we want to be honest.

We can say that Lucifer is mainly a pleaser but at the same time he rebels when he is enforced or constricted by something. It is why like the song describes (Pull me back, out of my body I'm tied to my limbs They're spinning me out of control) being bound to yourself gives out this sense of vibration, where you want to be set free but also cocooned into a blanket of security. Because sometimes it’s not about setting a person open like a starfish but making sure to sooth their violent tremors and let them rest than be painfully rigid.

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Now let’s follow the rest of the lyrics.

In the corners of my mind Long forgotten, lost in time Turning stones to look for light It's dark out here in the dead night

Always in my perception of things, the theory of relativity is prominent here in my opinion. It’s about time and how when we are alone time seems unclear, passing but it creates a still numbness, overthinking and we are getting lost in a self-constructed mind maze. Basically what has happened to our characters througout the seasons. While they doubt themselves, trying to find a meaning behind each other’s reactions and decisions and even the world they live in.

The ‘light’ part, for me at least, it’s a synonym of time. Of change and change often brings hope and progress. I mean progress is based on the concept that time exists and is passing so everything can only move forward whether they like it or not, but where can you find light and thus time when you are in a state of self-isolation from your wants and feelings?

So in 5x06 we see Lucifer and Chloe stretching out only to let the other in. Their awareness of freedom is having the other in their arms, to emotionally and physically consume them until there is no clear indication they were once two separate beings, but careful we are talking about their emotional connection. As I have aforementioned, they retain their attributes as individuals and as we see in 5x07 they word and respect each other for that. About what is shared and how a relationship is not the end of ones self but neither the surrendering of everything that makes you unique.

Change is never easy and never slowly paced and it is why the line of the lyrics:

For a moment, I was gone. Speed of light right to the red dawn.

For me it’s when the clock starts ticking from both ends without that meaning it’s a countdown. Mornings are set to be the set of new beginnings after all but they all require a sacrifice, a red one in preference. Hence the:

In this space, do I belong?

Breaking insecurities is hard as one set of them is replaced by yet another and it is a great song if we get it under that scope. That a relationship and particularly sex is not the resolving of everything but the transcription of yet another set of adventures down the road.

And the:

It's dark out here in my own thoughts.

Will remain a part of Lucifer’s theme in P2 but also in Season 6 so no idea if they went that far in the meta level but knowing your partner needs helps and there will be dark spells, after all bad spells it’s part of life. There is no easy fix as you will see. No matter what will be resolved, a troubled mind will remain one. The question is how you will tackle the difficulties and the bad days or moments. That is all. And the difficult moments will also be the good moments. Weird thinking for some I know but we cannot expect life, even a made up one to be perfect or even easy.

So Tether Me.

Bind me in a safe place alongside you, without the possibility to harm you or myself, to be free because I’m with you and the perception of how grand a world is, it’s but a matter of debate and time.

#lucifer meta #tether me #lucifer 5x05 #lucifer 5x06 #deckerstar #lucifer season 5 #lucifer season 5 part 2 #lucifer s5p2

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