#fanfic writing goals

[el1997jk]

Hi, El! Hope you're doing good 🦋✨️

Just passing by, uh—

I was asking myself the same question, and I found it an interesting thought exercise, so: in the next five years, which ten goals would you say you've got for your fanfic writing hobbie?

It doesn't need to be ten goals you'll actually run towards in the next five years, if you ain't got smth like that in mind, but if you Had To choose ten goals, which would they be?

Hi, well, firstly, thank you so much for asking. I'm doing well. 🦋😊⭐️ How about you? How are you doing? I hope you're doing well 💗

No worries, you can pass by and ask me questions any time. 😊

You are right it is a question that is very interesting, though exercise.

My answer to your question is:

Honestly, I think that for me, coming up with those ten goals for my hobby of fanfic writing was harder than the part about it happening in the next five years 😅

My ten goals (in no particular order except for the first one)

1. Finish my two ongoing fanfics. (Hopefully, I can achieve this by the end of this year)

2. Write at least half of the ideas that I have for fanfics into full stories. (I currently have 20+ ideas, and I know that number will get bigger as time goes by)

3. Finish writing a fanfic either fully or at least halfway before I post the first chapter.

4. Get better at writing scenes that are out of my comfort zone (18+ scenes, sad scenes, fighting scenes, etc.)

5. Write for at least thirty minutes to an hour every day (or longer depending on how much time I will have throughout the day)

6. Have people submit ideas that they would like me to write for them. (I would like to try it)

7. Write down any ideas that I might have for either ongoing fanfics or future ones so I don't forget them. (Either on a piece of paper, into my phone, or voice record it)

8. Have at least somewhat of an idea for a plot that will happen in the fanfic before I start working on it so I don't get stuck. (Or start rewriting the fic from the start when I'm already halfway through)

9. Keep track of what plot points I want to have in my fanfics and write them down into a list, so the story doesn't end up all messy.

10. Have a posting schedule from Monday to Sunday for my fanfics, so whoever reads them knows on what day the next chapter will be posted. But it also helps me to stay organised and not get overwhelmed while posting. (There won't be a fanfic for every day of the week all the time, obviously. It will depend on how many fanfics I'm posting at the time)

I don't know if those goals actually fit what you have asked me, but it was really interesting to think about and come up with them nonetheless.

Thank you for such a thought-provoking question. I don’t think that I would have thought about these goals otherwise.

🦋El🦋

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: Y/N pulled back slightly, wiping her tears gently away. “But you didn't; that's what matters," Y/N responded. “You fought so hard, baby, and I am so proud of you."

Or

Abby is reunited with her family.

A gunshot rang through the air. Ellie let up, pulling back in surprise. Abby gasped for air, grounding herself as she was suddenly released from under the water.

"Put your hands in the air," the voice was trying to be firm; it wavered at the end.

"Ellie," the voice continued.

Ellie turned around at the sound of her name; she recognized the source of the voice instantly. When Tommy had told her where Abby was and how to find her, he had referenced this girl. Y/N had been described as a best friend and right-hand woman of Abby's. Ellie had known better than to assume that this girl, who Abby just happened to share a life (and bed) with, was simply only a friend.

But their shared dating preferences hadn't brought her any sympathy; perhaps it had secretly angered Ellie with a slap-in-the-face reminder that Ellie was more like Abby than she wanted to be.

"Ellie, you need to listen to me," her voice became clearer as it moved towards them. The now visible girl's rifle was clutched close to her. She looked over at Ellie, pointing the gun at her head.

"If you move, I will kill you."

Ellie nodded along.

"Put your hands in the air and leave them there, I swear to God."

Her gun was still pointed at Ellie as she moved to raise her hands above her head, keeping them there as the girl walked past her. She placed the gun strap over her body, her face falling when she saw Abby.

"Christ."

Y/N dropped down, pulling the injured girl close.

"My love, oh my honey."

Ellie's chest tightened with a feeling she was unsure of as she watched Abby grab onto Y/N’s t-shirt, pulling her down to her knees, wanting to have her girl impossibly close. Y/N pulled her head close into her chest, rocking Abby for a moment. A tear escaped her eye as she ran her hands through the rough hair that had been brutally slashed off.

Abby spoke weakly.

"Lev, he u—"

She was gently shushed.

"I know, my love, we're going to get you two out of here safe, okay? He's coming home with us," Y/N told Abby gently.

The water around Ellie sloshed gently as she moved to stand. Y/N was quick on her, flipping around and pointing the gun right back at Ellie.

Y/N stood up, her once loose shirt now wet and clinging to what seemed to be the unmistakable curve of a pregnancy bump.

This had to be a joke—a cruel sick joke that was being played on Ellie. She felt ill—something more than regret settling in the pit of her stomach. She had come all this way for revenge. She had been so sure that she was going to kill Abby, that it would sedate the longing and grief inside her.

It hadn't.

She felt diseased with the thought of what she had left to come here—her family. She was more than angered by the cruel truth—a painful reminder of her wrongdoings. Abby had a family—a growing one at that—a family that Ellie had been ready to tear apart when she had walked down to this beach.

Ellie had left her family behind. She knew deep down she probably wouldn’t be returning to it either. She had left all of it behind only to become a killer. Abby had a family—a family that was here with her now, ready to take her home. Abby had a pregnant girlfriend that had fought to come save her.

Ellie had no one.

"Don't move," Y/N ordered, standing in front of Abby. "Ellie, you need to leave, okay? You can walk out of here unharmed by me. End this."

Ellie went to yell, adrenaline coursing through her veins, angered by her realization, her jealousy.

"OR!" Y/N was quick to yell over her. "If you don't leave my family alone, if you try and win this fight, I will kill you right now."

She moved closer to Ellie, who, despite her protests, still had her hands in the air. Y/N stepped close, placing the rifle against Ellie's chest. She spoke lowly.

"You've already killed enough people and ruined enough families; you don't have to ruin this one too."

"Go home, Ellie."

She used the rifle to nudge her back towards the shore. Ellie wasn't sure why she was compelled to listen. Perhaps, deep down, she knew that this girl was right. The circle of violence she had created would follow her around forever if she didn't cut it off at some point.

Ellie couldn't tear her eyes away from Abby, from Y/N. She sits in the shallow water, allowing the saltwater to burn her open wounds. The sting aids her anger; it distracts her from the pain inside her, the ache in her chest that won't let up.

Abby lifts Lev gently into the boat; despite her weakness and her injuries, he feels light; everything was going to be okay. Everyone she cared about was accounted for. Lev was laid down in the boat, her lover placing a jumper under his head. Abby watches as Y/N leans close to a barely conscious Lev, pushing his hair back gently. He reaches up towards the older girl in a weak attempt to put his arms up, wanting to be closer to her. She smiles at him in a way that makes Abby's heart ache; she can hear Y/N promise him something, leaning down to kiss his forehead gently afterward. Lev appears to settle after that, allowing himself to relax, finally safe, back with those who love him.

The attention falls to Abby next; she knew that it would have fallen to her first had Lev not been there. Y/N had taken quickly to looking after Lev; she had a maternal instinct that Abby had taken longer to learn, taking care of Lev in a way that confused him. He had confessed to Abby that he was unsure what to do with the doting; it had made Abby laugh. It was a sentiment that she understood; she had been unsure what to do with Y/N's caring nature back when they had only been friends. It had only gotten worse when they had begun dating. Abby had yet to go hungry or have a neck ache from sleeping funny since they had begun dating what seemed like forever ago.

Abby feels Y/N pull her close; she was weakened by the torture, holding her with as much strength as she could. Abby was used to holding her girl close, crushing her into a hug. It had become a joke between them. Abby's strength was a source of fun between them. Abby throwing Y/N over her shoulder or lifting her off the ground during an innocent hug (it was also a source of something else when they were alone). She had let up when Y/N had fallen pregnant.

Abby had always been protective, but it had gotten far worse when they had come to the realization of her girlfriends pregnancy. It hadn't exactly been a positive realization, but after the initial shock and horror, Abby had become more than eager for her expanding family. Their search for the fireflies had been less than successful, and it had put Y/N in far more danger than Abby had been willing to accept.

Abby had been so scared and worried for her family that she had considered stopping. Searching for an abandoned gated community or farm, taking her family there and ensuring that they could always be safe, protected within the walls of somewhere she could control.

“I thought,” Abby spoke quietly.

Y/N shook her head, imploring her not to speak, but Abby continued, “I thought I was going to die.” She began to cry, wetting Y/N's shoulder. “I was going to leave you all alone.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, wiping her tears gently away. “But you didn't; that's what matters," Y/N responded. “You fought so hard, baby, and I am so proud of you."

Abby could barely nod in response, her body shutting down from relief.

“We don't have to think about that anymore, okay? We can move on,” Y/N stated firmly as she led Abby towards the boat. “We can leave in one second, okay?” Y/N spoke after Abby was situated, walking back towards the shore.

Ellie flinched as she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Her body was immediately put into fight or flight, but for some reason, she remained still; she knew who it was.

Y/N crouched down beside her, a little awkwardly due to her protruding belly, but Ellie didn't want to think about that right now, the thought made her feel sick.

She spoke lowly to Ellie almost as if she were a child, a child who had just learned a hard lesson.

“Go home, Ellie,” Y/N spoke, “go home and live to see another day."

Ellie couldn't respond; Y/N had sounded so sincere it made her head hurt and her eyes wet. She nodded in response, rendered silent by everything.

It seemed to be enough for Y/N, who walked away, back towards her boat. Toward her loving family.

[veveisveryuncool]

HII ok so would anyone believe me if i said i'm like 17 pages into my Moominvalley S4 rewrite......

yeah so! here are some fake storyboards i've come up with for a few of the episodes i have plotted out! right now, i've only got about half the episodes with a rough plot, but i've written a crap ton of analysis for each character arc, episode, and overall narrative and how they could be improved, especially since i felt really... unsatisfied with the final season? it didn't feel like a satisfying conclusion to the characters nor story as a whole (due to a lottt of problems, but i think i've rambled about them for too long lol), so i plan to rewrite that fourth season through a mix of art and writing to attempt to give this show the impactful ending it deserves :]

[metaliczz]

Charles Leclerc smut

In which your boyfriend broke up with you and you go over to Charles' place

You were devastated. 3 long years of relationship and your boyfriend decided to put an end to it. You couldn't stop crying. He had left your house 10 minutes ago, leaving you alone in this awful situation. Tears filled your eyes as you could barely see what was in front of you. You were tired from all the crying, but you couldn't go to bed yet. You were sat down on your couch an the whole situation was far too painful. You needed to see someone. And you desperately knew who that "someone" would be.

You stretched your arm, reaching the coffee table that was in front of you and you grabbed your phone. Wiping the tears away, you dialed your bestfriend Charles' number. You didn't know if he'd be awake by now since it was almost 1am, but you decided to give it a try anyway. On the 3rd ring, he picked up.

"Hey (Y/N), what's up?" Your bestfriend asked. It took you a couple of seconds before answering.

"Can I come over to your place?" You asked as tears started to roll down your cheeks again.

"Always. Is there something wrong?" He said.

"Yeah.

You hung up, quickly put your shoes on and grabbed a jacket. As the front door closed, the pain in your chest started hitting you again. It hurt, so bad, but you still got into your car and made it to Charles'.

-

Three fast and hard knocks made Charles open the door in two seconds. As soon as your eyes met his, you could feel he knew what was going on. He closed the front door and wrapped his arms around you.

"It's him, right?" Your bestfriend asked, looking into your eyes.

"It's over." You said.

Charles joined you in his bed as he got close to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Your face was buried into him.

-

You had fallen asleep and you woke up at the sound of shuffling besides you. You looked over to your left and there was Charles. He somehow managed to get closer to you. You smiled and looked up at him, his face relaxed and shiny. He was still sleeping and you loved watching him as he did so. Charles looked angelic.

After staring at him for a while, he eventually woke up from his sleep. His eyes met yours quickly, looking into yours before he closed them and rubbed them. He yawned and let out a small groan before finally talking to you.

"Hi." Charles said, giving you a small smile.

"Hey."

"Are you feeling better?" He asked.

"Yeah, I really appreciate you."

"I'm always here. Whenever you need." He said, replacing a strand of your hair that got messed up while you were sleeping.

-

The two of you stayed in bed for a little talking about other things to change your mind from what had happened last night. The more you talked to Charles, the more you realized how badly it should've been him all along. Those 3 years and more should've been spent with him and not your stupid ex.

You stared into his eyes, feeling safe, but also butterflies. You've always felt different around Charles, but this time it was a whole other type of different.

Your bestfriend didn't say anything. He stared at you in return, his arms still wrapped around you, warmth surrounding your bodies. Charles moved one of his hands up to your face. His hand caressed your cheek, cupping it with his hand as his thumb rolled circles on it.

"Why do I feel this way?" You whispered, tons of emotions filling your body up.

"Because we love each other." Charles simply answered still caressing your cheek

Your heart started beating faster. Your eyes could only focus on his lips and your hand tugged at his shirt impatiently. Charles smiled, and pulled your face closer to his. His lips brushed against yours, making you envy him. He gave you a small kiss on the lips before having a whole make out session with you. You rolled over on your back and Charles got on top of you. His kisses trailed down to your neck, leaving hickeys all over it. His hands went all over your body causing you to shiver. Charles went back to kissing you. His heavy breathing made you go crazy, wanting nothing but more of him.

"Charles..."

"What? Did I do something wrong?" He asked suddenly stopping, a worried look on his face.

"No, don't stop. Please. I need you."

"Are you sure?" Charles asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You answered by tugging at his hair and pulling him closer to you for a kiss. Charles pulled away from the kiss and took his shirt off, throwing it to the ground before getting back to making out with you. His hands trailed on the hem of your shirt, helping you take it off. The two of you took off your pants. You could see how the buldge in Charles' pants was growing, and you loved it.

"You are everything..." Charles said kissing your cheek, then your neck.

Your hands played with his hair. You couldn't wait for him to be inside of you. It's all you wanted. Charles took off his boxers... God was he big. You looked at him, not saying anything. You didn't know if you could take all of it.

"(Y/N), are you feeling okay?"

"I don't know if I'd be able to... take it all." You answered, kind of embarrassed. Your cheeks flushed pink as you kept looking at him.

"I'll go slowly and you tell me if you want me to stop, okay? I would never in my life hurt you, ever."

You nodded in response, biting your lip. Charles took your underwear off and guided his member on the edge of your core. He could feel how wet you were, and you could feel his pre-cum already. The mix of the two of you felt heavenly. Charles slowly put his dick inside of you, making sure you couldn't get hurt. A loud moan escaped from your lips. A wave of warmth flushed through your body as Charles kept whispering in your ear how perfect you are. After a few seconds, you got more used to it. Charles started thrusting in and out of you, each time going a little faster. He felt amazing. He was sweet, passionate and smooth with you. He was so patient. His thrusts got only better. His moans and yours filled the room. Charles' hand got to your clit, gently rubbing it with his fingers. A sharp moan was heard from you, burying your head in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around it.

"(Y/N)... I'm close..." Charles moaned as he went faster.

"Me too... keep going. You feel so good."

In a matter of seconds Charles came inside of you, filling you with his warmth and love. You joined in at the same time, letting go of Charles' neck. All of a sudden you got extremely tired. Charles let himself fall besides you on his bed, exhausted. The two of you stayed in silence, thinking about what had just happened.

Charles rolled onto his side, looking at you. You turned your head to face him. He was admiring you, his eyes full of love and care for you. How long had he felt this way for? So many questions ran through your mind but you ignored them. You ignored them because you now realized that the man lying besides you was your only purpose of life. You were ready to drop everything you had for him. At the end, you didn't know why you loved him, but to you, that meant true love. Not knowing why you love someone is the purest kind of love there was, is and ever will be to mankind. His slow blinks proved he was ready to do anything for you.

"I think this is as close to heaven as I'll ever get." He said.

[stinkrat-aleks]

HEY. ABOUT THAT CHERIK SOCCER AU. I FINALLY UPDATED.

You can read the first chapter here || concept art here

[todorokis-girl]

Let's talk about the caffeine addiction - Kirishima x reader

Kirishima and Y/N navigate an evening of tension and care. Despite struggling with a caffeine withdrawal headache, Y/N resists drinking coffee to preserve their breakfast date the next morning. 

Requests are OPEN!

masterlist

No one had ever really paid attention to your struggles before. You knew caffeine was an addiction, and the headache you’d had all day was definitely because of the caffeine withdrawal. But it was 7 p.m., and you couldn’t have coffee. Kirishima had planned a breakfast date for the two of you tomorrow morning, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

As you massaged your temple, Kirishima glanced over from the driver’s seat while waiting at a red light. His concerned eyes studied you, taking in the tension etched across your face.

“I have to stop at the gas station. Need anything, baby?” he asked, his voice a soothing rumble.

“No,” you replied softly, trying to muster a reassuring smile.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, but didn’t press further. Once he parked at the gas station, he got out of the car without another word. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat, wishing you could skip the party. But you knew he was excited about it. It was a reunion of sorts—a chance for his old class to be together again after so long. You didn’t want to dampen his excitement, even if you felt like curling up in bed instead.

The car door opened, and the cool night air rushed in. Before you knew it, a cold bottle was pressed against your cheek. Startled, you opened your eyes to see Kirishima holding a glossy bottle of iced coffee—vanilla, your favorite.

“What?” you muttered, taking the bottle from his hand. It felt cool against your fingers, and you bit your lip, hesitating.

“You’ve been nursing that headache all day. You’re the one who wanted to come to the party,” he reminded you gently, his crimson eyes filled with concern.

“I can’t. We have breakfast tomorrow, and you haven’t seen all your classmates in forever, Eiji,” you protested, your voice wavering.

“It can be breakfast for dinner. Please, drink it,” he urged, his tone sincere and caring. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch comforting.

You looked at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face. His thoughtfulness warmed your heart. You unscrewed the cap and took a tentative sip, the sweet vanilla flavor immediately soothing your headache.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft with gratitude. “You always know how to make things better.”

Kirishima grinned, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. “That’s what I’m here for. Now, let’s go enjoy this party. And if you’re still not feeling great, we can leave early. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agreed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. With Kirishima by your side, you knew you could handle anything, even a caffeine withdrawal headache at a party.

[moonlightflower-queen]

Listener bf with his info dumping gf and info dumping bf

[megyulmi]

a line to commemorate bluebird, spread your wings (here’s a piece of the broken dream) reaching 500 kudos and turning pages (the narrow road to the deep north) ending on sept. 30.

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 

Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

[saphstories]

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

A ShadowxAurora One Shot

Shadow never meant to keep it. With the limited space in his apartment, a piano wasn't exactly practical. But he'd seen it sitting on the street while on a run, a pathetic little spinet that apparently wasn't worth the effort for repair according to the owner, so it sat in wait for the dump truck.

Omega thought he was nuts when Shadow had used Chaos Control to transport the piano into the apartment, and perhaps he was. The instrument had definitely seen better days, and it would take more than a simple tune up to get it in pristine condition again.

That didn't stop Shadow from shoving the spinet against the wall between his mattress and the front door and then going out to purchase the necessary items for piano repairs.

The spinet became Shadow's passion project over the next several weeks. Any spare moment between his mercenary work with Omega and dates with Aurora, Shadow could be found with the spinet piano, painstakingly doting over the instrument to set it to rights again.

"You never told me you can fix instruments." Aurora had noted once, sitting on the little bench with her legs swinging while half of Shadow's body was inside the back of the spinet.

"Never came up." Shadow had grunted.

"Where'd you learn?" She'd pressed.

Shadow had shrugged. "I did a lot of things while off world, Light. Sometimes I was asked to fix things, and music is universal." Aurora had accepted that answer, and Shadow minutely relaxed.

No way he was EVER going to tell her that some aristocrat across the galaxy had taken fancy to him and tried to get his attention by breaking her piano, just so he'd come and fix it. It was the fastest he'd ever fled a planet. Omega still hadn't let him live it down.

The plan for the spinet once he'd finished repairs was simple enough: take it to the resale shop and get a decent sum of cash for it. He'd contacted the shop, gotten a good offer, and was set to deliver and receive his rings, but when he arrived and saw the buyer...a mother and son duo, the latter whom was whining about how much he HATED piano lessons and was currently and carelessly swinging a baseball bat around in his fit....Shadow took his piano and left.

No way was Shadow going to let all his hard work repairing his baby go to waste on some ungrateful brat that lacked basic appreciation. So, the little spinet piano became a permanent fixture in his apartment.

Shadow had never considered himself a musician of any sort. He was a warrior, a mercenary, the Ultimate Lifeform, a guardian. Music...required a certain softness that Shadow, with all his broken pieces and jagged edges, simply did not possess. But, somehow, that didn't matter. Sitting at his little spinet, gingerly filling his apartment with the soft tones of the classics centered him with a kind of peace he rarely ever achieved...with one exception. When he played, Shadow could pretend that was all there was. Just him and his spinet, creating something beautiful together. It was almost magical, if he believed in such a thing.

Shadow huffed a quiet chuckle, gently resting his hand atop the keys but not pressing down, his thoughts drifting towards the other almost-magical thing in his life. Honestly, if it magic was a thing, Shadow could believe it, because of her. The way she pranced through life, with such light and arms wide open, eager and excited for whatever came her way...could anything else but magical describe his precious Light?

Almost without his command, his fingers gently drifted across the spinet's keys, a delicate melody that swirled and danced through the air. Shadow sighed.

"Though I tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her

In my heart.

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done

From the start."

How many times has Shadow looked into those emerald eyes, seen that smile, and choked? It was three simple words, why was it so difficult? He's made peace with the past, hasn't he?

"Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

A sniffle behind him had Shadow whirling around, Chaos Spear halfway formed in his hand and a snarl on his muzzle, when those same piercing emerald eyes damp with tears stopped him dead. Shadow gulped, his ears flattening against his head. Damn. How long had she- Shadow made get up, averting his eyes as embarrassment colored his cheeks rosy red.

And then she's right there, pushing him back down on the bench with pleas of "Please don't stop, don't mind me-," and she's still looking at him with those eyes, pleading and wet, her body pressed tight against his side, lips protruding in the most pitiful pout...

Chaos, he was screwed, wasn't he?

Shadow sighed and tapped her nose with his finger. "You will say nothing to anyone about this." He commanded, and tried to ignore how distracting that beaming smile was in order to return to the piano. He gulped, frozen with his fingers in position. He knew his voice was not what anyone would call gifted, hers was so much better, and he chanced a glance down to his shoulder where she'd laid her head. She smiled at him again, eager and encouraging, and Shadow gulped and resumed playing.

"Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days

SInce we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me

That ends up getting wet.

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

Shadow rested his cheek against the top of her head, mindful of the short grouping of quills that acted as bangs, closing his eyes momentarily and just breathing.

"I resolve to call her up

A thousand times a day

And ask her if she'll marry me

In some old fashioned way.

But my silent fears have gripped me

Long before I reach the phone.

Long before my tongue has tripped me

Must I always be alone?"

Her arms squeezed him gently, reassuringly, around his middle, and he pressed a kiss to her head in response, smiling at the growing damp spot on his shoulder.

"Every little thing she does is magic,

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on,"

Shadow dropped one hand from the piano and cupped Aurora's cheek, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes, shining with light and joy, and he knew his words wouldn't fail him this time. He smiled at her and leaned his forehead on hers.

"Every little thing you do is magic

Everything you do just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Know that my love for you goes on."

Shadow ended the song with a soft kiss to her lips, sealing his declaration of devotion with all the love and passion and dedication he had in his heart in the best way he knew how. Words always failed him, but somehow, in this moment, it didn't matter. Aurora wept through his kiss, and he smiled as they parted, a quirk of his mouth so gentle and loving that only she would ever get to see it.

Aurora pounced on him a single moment later, using her own gift of speed to press kiss after kiss on his lips, face, head, everywhere she could reach, glowing so brightly and joyfully exclaiming "I love you"s between kisses. Shadow briefly wondered how she wasn't suffocating before dismissing the thought and basking in their shared love, trading her kisses and words with ones of his own. It didn't matter anyway.

Every little thing she did was magic, after all.

[griefabyss69]

Silence Awakened

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

[ AO3 ]

Week Five: Degradation, Impact, Silent, Full WC: 6054 | Rated: E | CW: Dubcon (Elaborated in author's note on ao3), Under-negotiated kink

Maybe Eddie shouldn't have goaded Steve so much, but... he wasn't expecting him to react like this, so it's not really his fault, is it?

Excerpt

...but he's always, always been a fucking sucker for a heart of gold, even when it comes with a mean streak.

A set of experienced hands doesn't hurt either.

Steve lifts one of the noise-canceling earmuffs and the world is loud again, including the other dimension of Eddie's muffled yelling, no longer confined to vibrations inside his own skull.

"Shut. Up." he orders, stony and bitchy at the same time. It's like he's a brick shithouse with the personality of a cheerleader sometimes.

[t1meslayer]

It's Dungeon Meshi Thursday!! Hope everyone is excited for a brand-new episode of—

*holds a finger up to my earpiece*

What was that?

*listens a little bit longer*

To shreds you say?

Well. Sorry folks, turns out the anime is still on break. In the meantime... Perhaps I can sate your hunger for new Dungeon Meshi content with this preview of three (3!!!) Fun Facts set to appear in the upcoming @dunmeshizine!

For my part, I worked on flavor text based on Floors 2, 3, and the Surface. But the book is going to be absolutely chock full of amazing art, writing, and recipes all around, with tons of great merchandise too!

Preorders are open RIGHT NOW, and last until September 23. Proceeds will support World Central Kitchen, so don't hesitate to check out a really fun project that benefits a cause we all know Senshi would be proud to back.

See the zine on Bigcartel: https://dungeonmeshizine.bigcartel.com/

(Or if you're in the UK: https://www.etsy.com/shop/dungeonmeshizine)

[pearlypairings]

New November goal!

Aiming to write at least 400 words a day on any wip 🥰

Feel free to send an ask for a snippet of that day's addition for proof (and sneak peeks!) 😉

It'll keep me honest :)

[youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal]

Confessions in the Clouds

AO3

Summary: In which Corvus has some realizations mid-flight

Note: This is inspired by a promo image for season 7 that was released last month so if you are looking to go into the season blind do not read this!!

If it's after season 7 comes out and you’re reading this, hi! Hope you enjoy the fluff after a season that I’m sure left you in pain.

…

“Hey, uh, Corvus? You okay back there?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Are you sure? Did you forget to tell me you’re afraid of heights? Or flying?”

“Definitely not afraid of heights -“ Soren nodded, thinking of Corvus’s love of trees “- and I’m not the biggest fan of flying, but… it’s gotten better. I especially feel safe with you at the helm. Again, why?”

“Well… we’ve been flying for a bit now and you’re holding on as tightly as you were when we were taking off,” Soren chuckled.

Corvus had been hugging him close since they hopped on their Twin-Tailed Inferno-Tooth Tiger. At first he’d assumed it was due to their take off and not wanting to fall off. It was both of their first time riding this type of flying animal, after all. But it had been a solid ten minutes of easy flight, and Soren still felt Corvus’s arms grasping at his middle.

Soren chose to omit the fact that Aanya and Ezran had managed to fit themselves, Aanya’s bow and arrows, and Bait onto the back of Aegis with room to spare. Corvus may be the best tracker in Katolis, but his usually keen observation skills had seemed to be a bit muddled since he got back from the wedding.

“Oh!” Corvus loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “Sorry about that. I guess, I, uh, just got comfortable.” He mumbled into Soren’s back, flushing.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” Soren clarified, placing one of his hands over Corvus’s, briefly giving it a squeeze before returning it to hold on to Embertail. “Just checking in.”

He felt Corvus nod in response, chin slotting over Soren’s shoulder to look out at the sky. Soren involuntarily shivered at the feeling of warmth permeating through him. He chose to ignore what he knew deep in his bones: he’s in love with his best friend.

But Corvus is his best friend, after all. Nothing more, nothing less.

Right?

…

Corvus pretended not to notice Soren’s reaction to his presence on Soren’s shoulder, and chose to ignore the thrill it brought him. He’d been ignoring a lot of those feelings recently.

Janai and Amaya’s wedding must’ve made him sappy. Or maybe it was being captured by an enemy. Again.

This definitely was not the time to be having emotional breakthroughs. They were mid-flight, mid-disaster, mid-world-ending-scenarios, mid… well, let’s just say there’d been a lot going on. Corvus didn’t exactly have time to analyze his feelings.

His thoughts stalled. Feelings? Where did that come from?

Sure, he loved spending time with Soren more than anyone else and he felt like a piece of him was missing every time they were apart. Sure, he hadn’t felt like he could properly breathe since Ezran received the letter at the wedding until they’d landed back in Katolis - well, what was left of the capital, that is - and he’d enveloped Soren in a hug. (Corvus definitely wasn’t going to analyze the fact that he hadn’t wanted to let Soren go ever again during that.)

Because that’s normal between best friends!

Right?

Not that either of them really knew the answer to that. Soren’s closest and best friend before Corvus had been Claudia, and Corvus had been more of a loner growing up. Corvus knew Soren was close with the Dragang and viewed them as family, but also felt like the odd one out at times.

Sure, Corvus had some casual friends and he was close with his family. But he’d never had anyone he’d considered his best friend. Regardless of how close he was with Amaya and Gren while serving in the Standing Battalion, there was also always a level of formality due to being in the military. And, honestly, there were times where Amaya felt like more of a parental figure than just a friend.

Although, technically Soren was his superior too. Captain of the Crownguard and all that. Sometimes it was easy to forget, but there should be a level of decorum there. Usually it was always in the back of Corvus’s mind, but since the mushroom forest, he found himself forgetting often - or just not caring.

What made his relationship with Soren so different from the others?

You don’t want to push them against a tree and kiss them, his brain butted in.

He reared back far enough to move his head off of Soren’s shoulder, but didn’t let go.

Where had that thought come from?

Corvus had heard about Soren’s reputation when they were teens, even though they hadn’t truly run in the same circles. Everybody knew Soren had a tendency for being a bit of flirt and loved doling out affection to everybody around him. But the more Corvus thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever hearing about Soren actually being in any relationship. He wondered why that was.

Corvus, on the other hand, had never been too keen on flirting. He’d never really imagined himself with anyone. He’d been perfectly content by himself, with his group of casual friends, or with family for most of his life. He’d had good people around him and that was all he needed. Being in the military in a world at war, he also hadn’t really thought he’d live long enough to want any romantic relationship. The type of deep, meaningful relationship he needed to feel those things was hard to come by when you were a tracker constantly being sent on secret missions.

But then he’d met Soren. Well, he met Soren, a lot of things happened, and the whole world changed. Then he joined the Crownguard, and his whole world had changed. Simply because Soren had asked him to, no puppy dog eyes required. And they had become friends, and spent every moment possible together, and…

Corvus, against all odds, had found somewhere - someone - to call home.

Corvus’s eyes widened, and he looked back at his feelings and actions of the past few days, weeks, months, and, heck, years a little differently.

At the very least, that initial shock helped clarify some things for Corvus. He had feelings for his best friend.

…

Soren frowned at the loss of Corvus’s warmth.

“Are you sure you’re okay back there? I know you’re usually quiet, but… you seem extra quiet today.”

Soren could feel more than hear Corvus’s sigh. He felt his heart twinge at the thought of Corvus being sad. Or in pain. Or struggling in any way.

“Honestly?” Corvus asked.

Soren nodded. “Always. If you can’t be honest with your best friend, who can you be honest with?”

Soren felt sick saying the words, when he knew he wasn’t being honest with his best friend.

“Honestly, I…” Corvus couldn’t help but trail off. Corvus wasn’t even sure where to begin. When he’d been captured - the most recent time, that is - one of his first thoughts was I may never see Soren again. He hadn’t realized quite why at the time, but now he did.

It felt especially ironic, considering where their relationship had started out.

He took a deep breath, and started again. “Currently, I’m thinking about when you knocked me out with a rock - ”

Soren spluttered. “I thought we moved past that!”

Corvus couldn’t help but laugh and rest his head on Soren’s back. Soren was one of the only people who made him laugh so easily. So freely. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that I was thinking about how far we’ve come since then.”

Soren puffed out his chest. “Okay, good!”

“I was also thinking about the most recent time I was taken hostage,” Corvus said. Maybe this wasn’t the ideal time to do this, since if this conversation went badly his only choice would be to jump off of a flying cat over who knows where. But that just meant the conversation couldn’t go badly. “I… I kind of had a realization. Soren, my first thought wasn’t of King Ezran and how I’d get him out of the situation. It was of you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Soren asked, turning his head. Corvus held his breath. This had been a mistake. He wished he could take the words back. He - “You’re talking to my back more than me; I can barely hear you as it is up here with the wind!” Soren shouted the last words for emphasis with a goofy grin.

Corvus felt his face heat up. It had been scary enough to say it the first time. He cleared his throat and moved his mouth closer to Soren’s ear. “I said, when Karim took me and Ezran, I was thinking more about you than the king.”

“I - what? Why? We’ve both been in dangerous situations plenty of times. I was nowhere near there.”

“I think… I think the wedding helped me figure some things out.”

Soren, for one of the few times in his life, went quiet. His throat felt dry. “Like… like what?” he rasped.

“Like… I was afraid that I would never see you again. That I would never get to make up for all of the times I pushed you away because I was too afraid of feeling things that are hard.”

Soren skipped over the part that made his heart flutter. “I can’t imagine you being afraid of much of anything, Corvus. You’re the bravest person I know.”

Corvus chuckled and shook his head. “No, sorry, that title has to go to you. You have the biggest heart. You’ve been through so much, yet you still put on a smile every day. Or at least try to. And the most infuriating part is, it’s so often genuine! You ask how everybody’s doing, even when nobody asks you how you’re feeling. And, Soren, I want to be the person that asks you how you’re doing.”

Soren swore his heart skipped a beat. He knew he was overanlyzing this - after all, everyone knew thinking wasn’t his specialty. He’d had that drilled into his head since childhood. So he tried to do what he did best - lighten the situation, as per usual. He leaned back into Corvus’s personal space, just like Corvus usually hated. “Aww, right back at you, bestie.”

Corvus groaned at the nickname. He was messing this all up. “Soren, that’s what I’m trying to tell you! I don’t want to be your ‘bestie.’”

Soren stiffened and leaned forward, trying to get as far away as he could. Which wasn’t very far, considering they were on a flying magical tiger. Oh, he’d definitely read this situation wrong. Corvus was tired of him, just like everybody else. It seemed to be an inevitability of his life. Corvus was leaving him alone, too. Somebody was always leaving. Just like his mom had left the family, just like he left Claudia, just like -

“Oh, Sources, that did not come out right. Soren, I don’t want to just be your best friend. Because I…”

But Soren couldn’t hear Corvus attempting to course correct. He felt the pressure of a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, but his chest felt tight and he was struggling to breathe. He had the sense of mind to keep Embertail on track, but aside from that, he couldn’t notice anything else, trying to focus on his breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. But that made him think of his childhood, and his father - no, Viren - which made him think of everything he was doing his darndest not to think about, and -

“Soren?” Ezran’s shout cut through Soren’s chaotic thoughts. What could he say, he’d been trained well as Head Crownguard. “Are you okay?”

Soren looked down and swallowed. He schooled his face accordingly and put on a smile. “Yup! Just peachy, my King!”

Ezran made eye contact with Corvus who had alerted him to Soren’s condition, becoming concerned when Soren became unresponsive. “Okay, if you’re sure. We should be close now.”

Soren nodded. “Aye, aye, captain!” Soren saluted Ezran dramatically. Soren hoped Ez wouldn’t notice the shake in his hands.

“Soren?” Corvus said quietly. “Are you back with me?”

Soren nodded. Normally Corvus helped to tether him to reality during moments like that, but he guessed he’d need to get used to him not being there.

“Yup. Like I told Ez, just peachy.”

“Soren, I thought we just promised to be honest with each other.”

So it seemed that now Corvus didn’t even need to see his face to know exactly how he was feeling. Lovely.

“Well, that was when you still wanted to be my friend.”

“Soren, you disappeared on me before I could explain. I know, I know, the way I worded that before was… awful. But what I mean is that I don’t want to just be your best friend.”

Soren’s still racing thoughts screeched to a halt. Maybe his initial analysis of this conversation wasn’t so off? “Wait. What?”

“When I was at the wedding, I realized I wanted to be there with you. When Karim had us, I was so worried that I’d never get a Soren hug again. When we got the letter about Katolis, I dropped to my knees because I feared for your wellbeing. But it took me until right now, forced to be face-to-face - or, well, back-to-face - with you and my feelings that I realized…

“I never imagined myself living in one place, let alone in a castle. Adjusting was… difficult - “ Soren laughed, thinking of the times he’d seen Corvus sneaking out in more and more outlandish ways to sleep under the stars “ - but you made it easier. You made it worth it. You made me feel at home.”

Soren so wished he could turn around right now. He also knew this might be easier on Corvus because they were back-to-face. While both men admired each other for their bravery, he knew he’d been afraid to tell Corvus his own feelings for a while. Maybe this was what they needed.

Corvus took a deep breath, and leaned close enough to Soren that his lips brushed his ear. Soren felt all tingly.

“Soren, I think I love you - “

“I love you too.”

They both went silent. Corvus let out a surprised little “oh!” and Soren chuckled.

“Is it that surprising?” Soren asked.

“Well, I just figured out my feelings, like, five minutes ago. I don’t know what I expected.”

Soren grinned. “And are you happy with the outcome?”

Corvus nodded.

“Nope, use your words!”

He guided Soren’s face towards him, and Soren turned his body so that he could see Corvus more comfortably. Corvus made a face and rolled his eyes, because he knew it always made Soren laugh. He was not disappointed.

“Yes, Soren. I am very happy with these results.”

In that moment, Soren’s smile - his genuine smile - could’ve outshone the sun. Corvus felt like his heart was going to burst.

…

They’d been flying in comfortable silence for a little bit, when suddenly -

“I’ve gotta tell you something super embarrassing.” Soren blurted out.

Corvus laughed. “Okay, sure, that’s one way to start this relationship.”

Soren’s smile somehow grew wider. They were in a relationship. “So, I’ve never told you, or anyone really, about how - or, uh, why - I got this scar,” he pointed to his left eyebrow. “You know how we crossed paths at trainings and summer camps for most of our teen years?”

“Yeah, of course. Even being in different age groups, you were always the most boisterous person around. It was hard to miss you.”

“Well, uh…” Soren faced forward, suddenly flustered, debating if he should go on.

“C’mon Soren, use your words,” Corvus needled with a poke to Soren’s side.

Soren took a deep breath. Corvus would never judge him. He hadn’t judged him for any of the awful things he’d done in the past. He wouldn’t judge him for a silly accident in his teen years.

“Well, there was one year where I noticed your scar. And, looking back, I thought it made you look incredibly attractive. But young, still-figuring-himself-out Soren wasn’t sure how to handle those feelings, and decided he wanted to look like you. So, after camp, I, uh, attempted to shave a slit into my eyebrow.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. I messed it up pretty badly, and ended up with a little scar all of my own. All because I’ve been crushing on you since we were kids.”

Things went silent. Soren silently cursed his talkative nature. He’d ruined things already. Corvus would think it was weird he’d paid so much attention to him when they’d basically been strangers. Acquaintances at best. Before Soren could get too lost in his thoughts, a gruff voice broke through.

“I really wish I could kiss you right now,” Corvus said before he could overthink it.

Soren froze. He was so used to being the one to initiate physical affection, he wasn’t sure how to react to being on the receiving end of that request, especially from someone he was actually attracted to.

Corvus misunderstood his silence, fearing the worst again. “Wait, are you okay? We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to or you aren’t ready to. You just being you makes me happy.”

“Wait, no, I definitely do want to kiss you,” Soren explained. “Like, so badly. I just didn’t think that anybody I really, truly liked would… actually want to kiss me.”

Corvus’s heart broke for the kind soul in front of him who had been so damaged by life, he didn’t see his worth or desirability outside of his strength and status. Corvus swore to whatever higher beings were out there that he would make this man feel worthy of love and affection, even if it’s the last thing he ever did.

Corvus just hugged Soren tighter. “As soon we land and have some space from others, I promise I’ll prove it to you.”

Soren felt himself get flustered. “I - uh - “

“In the meantime, I just got you back. I’m not letting you go. Okay?” Corvus asked, scooching somehow even closer and resting his cheek on Soren’s shoulder.

Soren nodded, lacing his fingers through Corvus’s as they flew. “More than okay.”

They were silent for a few minutes.

“So, now that we’re… together, and I’ve told you an embarrassing story, does this mean I finally get some Corvus backstory? Or at least the story behind the scarf, O Great Man of Mystery?”

Corvus pretended to contemplate the questions with a loud hum. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

“Well, I already feel like a pretty lucky guy.”

Corvus steeled himself, leaned forward, and kissed Soren’s cheek. “Me too.”

Even with everything going on, they both had a strange feeling that everything would be okay, so long as they had each other.

…

Not included: Ezran owing Aanya jelly tarts because, while being back in the lives of these two men for mere days, she knew this would happen within the week. She’d been shocked when Ezran told her they weren’t dating. Ezran had hoped it wouldn’t happen yet because he had a whole elaborate scheme originally planned for after they got back from the wedding and he still wanted to see it through. However, when they saw Corvus and Soren downright cuddling on the back of their ride, he knew he’d lost. But he could still use his scheme to help Soren plan a date sometime in the future.

…

Author’s Note:

Thank you so much for reading!! This is one of my first times writing about guys and from a guy’s POV so I was very nervous. I hope I did these two justice!

I’ve probably read almost every Sorvus fic on this website at least twice and have stalked social media since I finished season 6 in August, so I have lots of pieces of inspiration.

First, I have to mention the Aftermath fic by the talented ChaoticGoodThiefling on AO3/@/SorineTheMastermind on Tumblr. The “I just got you back. I’m not letting you go.” line in chapter 5 has had me in a chokehold since I first read it and it is what inspired me to write this fic. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing it.

Second, this post made my brain start working in overtime. If you look at my tags on the post, you’ll find the beginnings of a portion of this fic.

Third, as I mentioned above I’ve read. Just. So many Sorvus fics at this point. I’ve likely taken a little bit of everybody’s characterizations of them and mashed them all together. I finished this and have been fine tuning for weeks, and it’s been wild to see ideas I included in this included in other fics. I love how we all share a braincell when it comes to this couple.

Fourth, I accidentally and then on purpose included some RWBY confession references in this, so if you spot them please be my friend.

Also if someone is not familiar with the headcanon of how Soren got his eyebrow scar, check this out: https://x.com/thedragonprince/status/1096511787556454400?s=46&t=vXzCmFCffK1Tzl3093q15w

Finally!!! Thank you again for reading if you made it all the way down here. I haven’t been here for long, but I love The Dragon Prince fandom (specifically on Tumblr) so much already.

[captain-lessship]

Breathe

a/n: I loved this request and I loved the idea of a overwhelmed reader and I am just 💕💕

You were tried and you were laying on your bed, looking up at your ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” A calm voice asked. 

You happily lolled your head to your window, where the blonde boy was sitting. It was Jasper, your boyfriend.

“Today’s just been,” you shrugged, “tiring.” 

You began to rant on about how your friends were acting, how your family was bickering then switching up and laughing with each other.

You loved each and every one of them but the constant fluctuations threw you for a loop.

He had moved to sit on the bed, he fiddled with your hair as you talked, calming you slightly. 

“You aren’t responsible for their feelings and you don’t need to bring them onto you and your feelings. It isn’t good for you, lovey.” 

You moved to lay your head in his lap, “I know, I know but it’s just so hard.”

“Because you care.”

“Because I care.” 

He sighed, “It’s admirable to an extent but you need to take care of yourself.” He sat you up and you turned to look at him.

“Breathe in,” you followed his words, “Breathe out.” 

“Say it with me.” He began, “I care about people.” 

“I care about people.”

“People care about me.”

“People care about me.”

He held your hands as you went back and forth, speaking words that made you feel better and not as alone. 

“Thank you,” you said, hugging him.

He hugged you back and fell back onto your bed. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“It goes both ways. You make me feel better about myself.”

You smiled as you rolled up his sleeve and began drawing shapes on his arm. He let you do this as a sort of relaxation technique, he didn’t mind you seeing his scars and he saw yours. 

He felt a slight wave of relief come over you, he smiled to himself as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. A tip-tapping added a even greater sense of peace in your room. 

“It’s raining.” You whispered.

“It always is here.” 

[isalisewrites]

A ramble on writing for my mental health

At the end of 2023, I calculated how long it would take me to finally get through the slow burn to the first kiss between Tom and Harry in Terrible, But Great.

At the rate I'd been posting at, I discovered that it would take an approximate of 3 to 4 years to get to the first kiss.

When I tell you that I lost it, I mean that I lost my motherfucking mind. 3 to 4 GODDAMN FUCKING YEARS to get to the FIRST KISS???

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I ranted. I screamed. I raged. Unacceptable. Absolutely not. Fuck no. I refuse. Friends would say, "No, it's okay. We can wait. Take care of yourself. Mental health. Important. Blah blah blah."

NO. I love you.

NO!

I don't want to wait that long. I, ME, the author, do not want to wait three to four years to share one of my favorite chapters of all time. I don't want to wait. My soul wept at such an idea. Because there's so much more to come after the first kiss. How long would it take me to finish what I'd started? Life is fleeting. Life is fragile. I know this all too well when my mother died far too young in my arms. I'm not saying something will happen to me, but this story is so important to me.

And so

A determination like no other came over me.

I made an immovable, unshakable goal. I needed to write every single day, before everything else in my life. It had to be first. I wake up; I write. I've gained so much good by going to college, but I've also lost so much when it came to writing. I needed this. I needed to write - before the duties, the homework, the chores, before EVERYTHING because I needed it.

I decided that 700 words a day was a reasonable goal for me. I could do it. I could reach that. If I wrote 700 words a day, it'd be an average of 21,000 words per month with a total of 255,500 words for all of 2024.

Not only would I reach the first kiss, not only would I finish Arc Two, I would also finish Arc Three, which contains the climatic purpose of the whole story.

On that day, when I never really made New Year's Resolutions in the past, I set this daily goal of 700 words per day.

It's now the end of January. Did I accomplish this goal?

Yes.

-

This is a screenshot of my daily word count in January.

50,461 words.

Not only did I reach the goal, I surpassed it. There's 35,000 words more in Arc Two than there was at the beginning of January. There's 15,000 words more in Arc Three, Arc Four, and Arc Five collectively.

I discovered so much about the story in Terrible, But Great. I learned so much more about the characters. One day, if you're a reader of the story, you'll learn about it, too. I promise.

I learned there was an Arc Five, when I'd barely thought about a fully realized Arc Four. I learned about the final chapter, about the final lines.

I cried that day.

Life is still hard; it's still stressful. But you know? The depression that would settle over me by this point in the semester hasn't come. I'm so much happier than I've been for a long time. Putting what gives me the most joy in life has been the best thing I've ever done.

Yes, there are still some hard days. Yes, some days, it's harder to write. But as I look back on every day, I am so happy that I still choose my writing and story first.

Until next month.